Dane

Dane rubbed his face once, debating how much to share with the man. He knew Bert was trustworthy, he'd been keeping his secrets since he was a teenager. But it really had been years. And this…

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"How much do you know about the shitstorm my father's currently creating?"

"Very little. I saw your name in some reports about a scandal recently, but I'll be honest, I haven't really followed it much. And I've heard nothing recently."

Dane tapped his fingers on his knee. "The woman who was at the center of those stories disappeared a week ago, then turned up dead on Saturday. And even though it initially looked like a suicide, everyone's about to find it out it wasn't."

Bert's lips thinned. "And you're sure it's him?"

"It would be a miracle if it wasn't, at this point."

Bert gave him a look. "I still believe in miracles, but I take your point."

Dane rocked both feet on the floor, his eyes darting around the room. His tie was too tight. Did they not have air-conditioning in these places?

"Breathe, Dane. It's okay. There's no threat here."

Dane snorted. But Bert, with a compassionate look that made Dane want to punch him, leaned forward and put a steadying hand on his shoulder. And as had always happened with this kind man, Dane's body relaxed and he was immediately able to breathe more deeply.

Bert sat next to him silently for a moment, just holding his shoulder. Dane didn't look at him.

"Dane, you don't have to handle this alone," he said quietly. Dane scoffed before he could stop himself. "I know it's been a long time since we spoke, but nothing's changed. God still cares about everything in your life—"

"God only cares about the nice people, Bert," he seethed.

"Not true."

"Well, anyway, there is one person I'd like you to do your praying for, or whatever it is."

Bert smiled. "Who's that?"

"Her name's Lila. Delilah. She's…wonderful. She's kind and thoughtful, and nice to everyone. And now she's in danger just by being close to me."

"Oh, Dane. That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you!"

Dane's eyes flew wide. "No! No, she's an employee. I just…really appreciate her and feel bad that we hired her right when all this started. She didn't know what she was getting into. At least the other staff are used to the crap that happens around me."

Bert stared at him for a second. "Well, she sounds great. And I'll definitely keep her in my prayers." He couldn't hide his smile though.

"Her safety," Dane muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Pray for her safety," he said through his teeth. "That's all I'm concerned about."

"Of course. Of course. And I'll be praying for yours, too."

Dane gave him a flat look, but didn't respond. Bert kept his hand on his shoulder. Dane was always surprised how much it helped. He didn't know much about Bert's faith, but there was no doubt the man possessed a calm and inner peace that he'd always envied.

He'd met Bert when he was sixteen and caught up in one of his father's operations. The Chaplain had been a lot younger then, but he'd already had the same unshakeable manner, and sense of peace around him. He was the only man Dane could remember allowing to touch him for any reason that wasn't aggressive. His touch always seemed to calm Dane's mind and emotions so he could think more clearly.

"Have you seen him?" Bert asked quietly, shattering the calm Dane had been starting to feel.

"Of course not," Dane snapped.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Dane. I wondered if he'd…made himself available, or something. I wasn't sure."

"We haven't spoken since I was twenty-two and he killed Talia," Dane snarled. "If I ever see him, I'll come to you later and ask you to forgive the blood on my hands."

Bert sighed. "I've always told you Dane, and I mean it: It isn't me, or any other man, who can ease your conscience. It's only Jesus, and He'll help you as soon as you recognize what you did was wrong. All you have to do is ask him to take it for you and he will—"

"I don't want to hear it." Dane pulled his shoulder out of Bert's grip and sat up straighter, leaning away from the man. "I already know where I stand with God. I don't need your sermons."

"Except, what you believe about God isn't true. He isn't angry with you, Dane. He wants to know you—" Dane snarled at him and the older man lifted his hands, sighing, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Bert sat back and crossed his legs at the ankle, looking Dane up and down. "Forgive me, Dane, I still see the boy I met fifteen years ago. I forget you're a man now. I meant no disrespect. At all."

Dane nodded, inwardly hating himself for overreacting. Bert was one of the few truly good men he knew. "You don't need to apologize. I'm just…on edge."

"And with good reason. Look, why don't we—"

A knock interrupted him. Dane was on his feet and facing the door in a blink. Bert put that hand on his arm and smiled a second before he called, "Come in!"

A moment later the door swung half-open and the ruddy face of Detective Harry Quinn appeared beside it, his black glasses too far down his nose as he scanned the men over them. "Well, she wasn't playing a joke on me," he muttered, then looked at Dane. "I guess we need to talk?" he sighed.

Dane nodded, then turned to Bert and offered his hand to shake. "I'm sorry. I'll try to come by again when things aren't so…touchy."

Bert nodded and shook his hand. "I'd love to see you anytime." He picked up something off the desk. "Take one of my cards. You can always call if that's safer."

Dane slid the card into his pocket and thanked the man, then started for the door.

"And I won't forget those prayers!" Bert called after him.

Dane nodded and flapped a hand at him, but didn't respond as the Detective held his eyes, waiting for him to make it out into the hall.