Chapter Ten
Sour in My Gut
Deck put the bowl of food on the floor and Buford stuck his nose in it immediately.
He rose and turned to face the kitchen, seeing Emme, hair wet and pulled back in a wide band, his t-shirt on, no panties (he’d copped a feel after dressing and following her there and made this phenomenal discovery), makeup half on, shoveling oatmeal in her mouth and sipping coffee, doing all this in a hurry.
Deck moved to his own bowl of oatmeal that she’d made him as Emme slugged back some joe, looked down at Buford and addressed a dog with a fresh bowl of food thus a dog who forgot she existed in this world.
“You need to tamp down your instincts to hunt, puppy, so you can come to my house because the drive to work from my house is fifteen minutes and the drive from here is twenty-five and I don’t like getting up early so I’m not a big fan of getting up earlier.”
“Emme, it’s ten minutes,” Deck pointed out.
Her eyes sliced to him, her head tipped and her brows went up. “Morning sex?”
He grinned. “Okay, forty-five minutes.”
“Right,” she muttered tetchily as the phone in her purse on the counter opposite him rang.
She glared at it and walked there.
Deck’s grin turned into a smile.
Apparently, the orgasms he gave her half an hour ago wore off.
She put down her mug, pulled out her phone, looked at the display and Deck’s gut clenched when her face lit up.
F*ck, she was gorgeous.
She put the phone to her ear and chirped, “Hi, Dad!”
His gut clenched again, but a different way.
This time it was just plain f*ck.
Her face grew confused so this time he verbalized in a mutter his, “F*ck.”
She didn’t hear him. She was listening to her dad.
He knew what she was hearing.
He forgot, when he was putting the finishing touches on the case, and McFarland was definitely going down, he’d called Emme’s dad, Barry Holmes. This was before he knew Kenton Douglas had gone to Emme to question her and get back the ring.
He meant to tell her.
In all that happened, he did not.
Her eyes cut to him and they narrowed.
He repeated, “F*ck.”
“Yeah, Dad, I know but—”
She was obviously cut off. Two seconds later, her jaw got tight.
Deck sighed.
He knew Barry. He’d spent time with him at some of Emme’s dinner parties. He and Elsbeth had also been invited to their home for their annual Christmas party four years running and they never missed it. Now he knew he never missed it because it was a chance to see Emme. Then he just thought it was because he liked and admired Barry Holmes.
The man came from money, was given it and still, he worked for it. He was funny, shrewd, hardworking, honest, and he loved his family.
He made a mint but when his kids went to college, Barry paid room and board but his kids were responsible for tuition no matter how they had to go about that. Getting jobs, working for scholarships, applying for grants. It wasn’t heartless or miserly. He gave them their tuition back in full as a graduation present. He just made sure they worked for their education so it meant something to them.
They all did.
Elsbeth thought Barry was too hard on his kids.
Deck never agreed.
This was because he reckoned he’d do the same with his kids if one day he had the money but didn’t want them to grow up feeling entitled to it, like Elsbeth often demonstrated she felt.
But also because, with his kids, there was nothing hard about Barry Holmes. He might want to teach them life lessons and they might not be easy, but he often told them he loved them, shared wide and in their presence he was proud of them, and the family was close.
And last, even though he could afford country clubs and sprawling estates, his home was nice, large, well decorated, but it was warm and welcoming and not much more than a family of six needed. Just a solid, attractive, family home for him, his wife, two boys and two girls, a brood where Emme was the youngest.
Talking to Barry days ago, he’d called up the fact that losing Elsbeth had meant losing Emme and that had meant losing Barry, his wife, Maeve, and Emme’s loving but far-flung siblings (a sister in India, a brother in New Zealand and her other brother lived in Boston). All who, however far-flung, often came home to visit.
It hadn’t sucked as much as losing Emmanuelle. But it sucked.
“No, I’m not there because I’m, um… um…” Emme’s words brought his attention back to her. “Staying with Jacob.” Her eyes were big, pained, totally pissed and still on him. “Yes. Jacob Decker.” Pause then, “He’s… well, sure. He’s right here. We’re eating oatmeal.”
She made her eyes even bigger at him and if looks could kill, he’d be f*cked.
Then again, he was in danger of choking on the laughter he was swallowing.
“Sure, right, he’s eating,” she said as she made her way to him. “But he can talk.” She stopped two feet away. “Yeah.” Pause. “Okay.” Pause, then softer, “Love you too, Dad.”
The soft went out of her face when she took the phone from her ear and extended it to him.
“He wants to talk to you. And after you’re done, I’ll want to talk to you too.”
He reckoned so.
He fought back a grin but felt his lips twitch. They twitched more when her eyes narrowed on them.
He took the phone and put it to his ear.
“Mr. Holmes?”
“Barry. Barry. Son, for years, been telling you to call me Barry.”
Emme was pissed.
Barry Holmes sounded like he just won the lottery.
“Right. Barry,” he felt Emme’s eyes sharp on him at his familiarity with her father which was obviously invited, “what can I do for you?”
“Just to say, going into the office to get things started. I’ll be staying today, just in case. When’s that bond hearing you were talking about?”
He had explained to Barry what was happening, had been relatively forthcoming and asked him to come up to deal with McFarland should he be bonded out and head to work or even call in.
He did this because Deck needed that man far away from Emme. And that included him getting him suspended from work.
Barry had explained he had all employees sign contracts and he also had extensive employee handbooks. Barry then shared that an employee could be suspended pending investigation or fired outright should they engage in criminal acts, either on or off the job.
So McFarland was f*cked.
But Barry was going to handle that particular f*cking.
Emme was having nothing to do with it.
“Ten o’clock,” he answered.
“Good, good,” Barry replied. “I’ll have a natter with the boys, look around, visit with my baby girl and wait for your call.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Deck agreed.
“Now, before you go, I’m standin’ outside this money pit my girl bought and lookin’ at a big pile of insulation tied under a tarp at the side of her house. Did my Emme get that sorted, do you know?” he asked a question he was not asking.
He wanted to know if Deck, suddenly very in Emme’s life, sorted that for his girl.
“Me and some of my boys saw to that yesterday, Barry.”
Mental spears pierced his skin. He looked to Emme then quickly looked back to his feet in an effort to hide his smile.
Definitely pissed.
“Son, I cannot tell you, she bought this place, so excited, ‘Dad, Dad! You gotta come up and see!’ I came up and saw. Nearly had a heart attack.”
Deck kept smiling at his feet.
Barry kept talking.
“Her mother and I bought that boiler for her, scared as shit the one she had would blow sky high. Tried to pay for the electrical work, she refused it, cleaned out her accounts to do it. I told her insulation was next. She renovated the master bath. I told her insulation was next. She renovated the master. You’ve been here. You see where I’m going with this. Offered to have it put in, she says, ‘Dad, it’s my house. I’ll see to it.’ Told her she might as well build a fire in one of her five thousand fireplaces and throw her money in it, not having insulation. Two months ago, she calls me and asks, ‘Dad, can you come up and help me get the chandelier in the front room down?’ Chandeliers!” he yelled. “She’s cleaning chandeliers before putting in insulation? I gave up. I’m glad you got her to see the light. Now we just gotta work on her getting these windows fixed.”
“She’s getting bids for those, Barry.”
“Hallelujah!” Barry shouted.
Deck bit his lip to stop from laughing.
“I’m glad you think this is funny,” he heard Emme hiss.
His eyes came up from his feet, his hand covered the phone and he whispered, “Baby.”
She stomped out.
He went back to the phone because Barry was speaking but he did it with his eyes on the backs of Emme’s legs exposed under his tee from mid-thigh down.
“Now, Jacob, I’m seeing you can make my girl see sense. You get those bids, you talk her into letting her mother and me pay for those windows. She balks, get her to accept half. She balks at that, she’s getting a big bonus for doing a good job at the yard, seeing as she actually does a good job at that yard just like I thought she would, but that bonus is gonna be whatever you tell me those bids say. You hear?”
The only people in his life who called him Jacob were his mother, Barry, Maeve and Emmanuelle Holmes, the last three because he allowed it and liked it. The first one because he had no choice but he still liked it.
He was Deck.
Everyone called him Deck.
This was because his father nicknamed him Deck when he was a kid, starting so young, Deck never knew anything but, and his dad, then others, never called him anything else.
He liked the nickname.
But he loved his dad.
Therefore the only time he got sharp with Elsbeth was when she once called him Jacob. He shut that shit down the minute it started. It hurt, she showed it, and she gave him that look every time she heard him allow Emme to use his given name.
But he didn’t care.
F*ck, he had a 150 IQ and he still was a dumb f*ck.
“Barry, I’m thinkin’ that Emme likes to do things on her own. I’m also thinkin’, since a lot of shit has gone down the last coupla days and I forgot to tell her I phoned you, I got an angry woman on my hands. So, we’ll talk about the window bids later. Yeah?” he asked.
There was silence then, “Son, you best get on that. Emme’s her own girl, always has been. So when she gets irked, things can get iffy. Then again, she’s always had a soft spot for you so you’ll be all right.”
The call to Barry days ago had included Barry being surprised as well as delighted not only to hear from Deck but also to know Deck had reconnected with his daughter. Though, he hadn’t been delighted at what Deck had told him and Deck hadn’t shared how he, at the time and accomplishing this since, intended to connect with his daughter.
“I hope you’re right but I best get on that,” Deck replied.
“Right. I’ll let you do that, just one more thing,” Barry said.
“Yeah?” Deck prompted when he didn’t give Deck that one more thing.
“I know this question might seem strange but I’m a father, far’s I know you’re not, but if or when you are, you’ll understand me. She’s there first thing in the morning. I’m here with the insulation you pulled out of her house. Does this mean good things?”
Deck knew what he was asking.
“By good things do you mean am I seeing your daughter?” Deck got to the point.
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Barry answered.
It wasn’t strange but it was nosy.
He shouldn’t answer, but a man whose daughter was kidnapped when she was a child and now what was swirling around her, he felt should have his mind put at ease.
“I don’t find that strange and in normal circumstances that should come from Emme. Since you asked and with what’s goin’ on, you should know she’s covered, as in safe, as in I intend to keep her that way. And I intend to do that ’cause she’s Emme and I’ve always had a soft spot for her but also because I’m seein’ your daughter.”
“Hallelujah,” he breathed.
At least he had Barry Holmes’s approval.
He still had a pissed Emme on his hands.
“Means a lot, Barry, that’s your response. No joke,” Deck told him. “But I really gotta go.”
“Right. Right. See you in a bit.”
“You will. Later, Barry.”
“Later, Jacob.”
He disconnected and put Emme’s phone by her purse. In an effort to give her time to burn at least a little of it out, he picked up his oatmeal but his eyes went to his dog who was sitting on his ass, having wolfed down his food, and he was staring up at Deck.
“Go in and butter her up for me, will you, pal?” he asked between bites of oatmeal.
His dog ambled out, headed in the direction of the master. Deck wanted to believe his hound was smart enough to understand him, but it was more likely he was on the trail of strawberries.
Deck finished his breakfast, ran water in the bowl but left it in the sink, got a cup of coffee and belatedly followed Buford.
He heard a hair dryer, saw his dog on the bed, eyes aimed to the door of the bathroom and he found his girl in the bathroom wearing nothing but jeans and bra, torso bent over, ass his way, drying the back of her hair.
Deck settled in with a shoulder to the jamb of the door, sipped his coffee and enjoyed the view.
The view turned more spectacular when she flipped her hair back. It got even better when he saw the sexy, lacy white bra she was wearing.
Her eyes caught his in the mirror and flashed.
He pressed his lips together.
She aimed her angry eyes at herself in the mirror and kept drying her hair.
Deck didn’t move.
He’d discovered, you pay attention and a goodly amount of it, every day you could learn something. You watched how birds flew, expressions on faces, traffic flow.
And how women got ready and went out to face the day.
Emme now had on full makeup and it looked good on her. F*cking good.
It wasn’t like back when he knew her before that she didn’t wear it. She just wore enough she had a mask on to go out. Emme was all about the mask, and makeup was just part of it. But it was clearly something she did as habit. Not something she enjoyed.
As with a lot of things about her, that changed. Her makeup wasn’t heavier, as such, though there was more of it. But it was far more expertly applied, like she gave shit, not like she had to do it and get it done with.
Same with her hair, which was not only a f*ck of a lot longer and had highlights, but had a healthy sheen it didn’t have before.
She also now didn’t wear a perfume that was a floral scent that was nice enough, though a little overwhelming, like she used to wear. Her old perfume was a perfume for women to like. Not one that would lure a man. The smell and the amount she used was likely another unconscious indication she wanted people to stay back.
Now her perfume was far more understated. You had to get close to smell it. It was still floral but more mellow and musky.
It was a perfume a woman might like but a man definitely would.
Until he saw her on the street just days ago, he didn’t give one f*ck what it said about him that he liked his women to take care of themselves. Unshaved legs, visible roots, unkempt eyebrows and a thrown-together outfit was a massive turnoff.
The truth of the matter was, the more high maintenance, the better.
It wasn’t about perfectly toned bodies. It was a demonstration they gave a shit, not just for him, for them. They had the confidence and energy to trick themselves out and make an impression, even if it only made them feel good. No, especially if it seemed they did it for themselves, because they liked it, because they got off on it, and it wasn’t about attracting a man.
He thought that was sexy as hell.
The last few days, he’d struggled with the fact that it was not lost on him that Emme not doing this years ago meant he didn’t see deeper what she had to offer nor did he feel how they’d connected. He’d lost time, they both had, because he was young and shallow, blinded by Elsbeth having that without having what was more important.
That said, he sure as f*ck wasn’t complaining that Emme now had it all.
The dryer went off and she immediately yanked out the plug, turned and dumped it into her overnight bag that was sitting on the floor behind her.
“Babe—” he started, and she whipped around, her hair flying with her and again it was a spectacular show.
“You know, I’ve had two guys before you. Just two,” she announced.
Her eyes on him were flashing fire. Her words making him war between elation that that number was so low and meant even at their ages he had a shot at giving her a lot of good shit she’d not yet had, and distress that all that was Emme was wasted so long and his girl had spent so much time alone.
She went on.
“And neither of them lasted long so I really don’t know how to do this relationship stuff. I don’t have a lot of practice since obviously neither of those went the distance or, really, any distance.”
“Emme—” he tried again, but she talked over him.
“But I still know you calling my father about a work issue, my work, is not okay.”
“This isn’t a work issue, this is a guy issue,” he corrected.
“Oh yes?” she asked, putting one hand on her hip and tipping her head the other way, not a stance any man wanted to see, ever, even if his woman was wearing only a jeans and bra doing it. “So, you didn’t phone my father to come up and deal with Dane’s suspension and/or termination should he show at work after his bond hearing? And you didn’t do that without telling me?”
“I did that because it’s not safe for you to be near this guy and I intended to tell you but you got pissed and disappeared, I searched for you, only found you because you were at my house, things got heated then other shit took it off my mind.”
“So you did,” she stated. “You did phone my father to deal with a work issue.”
He pushed away from the jamb, her eyes fired and she took a step back so he settled in where he was, putting his mug on the counter and crossing his arms on his chest.
“I keep tellin’ you, I know that guy and I don’t want you anywhere near that guy,” he said.
“Well, luckily, I haven’t gone temporarily and spontaneously deaf every time you’ve mentioned that so I actually heard you say that. But this isn’t the same.”
“He’s that guy and you dealin’ with him in person or on the phone is just not gonna happen.”
“When it comes to my work, Jacob, you don’t get to make that call,” she declared.
“When it comes to my girl bein’ at work and dealin’ with this guy, I do,” he shot back.
“So, say, you’re out crimefighting or whatever you do and I feel it necessary to make sure you’re fed properly because I feel it’s my job to see to you, it’s okay I infiltrate your secret lair without your knowledge or permission to bring you chicken noodle soup and crackers?” she asked sarcastically.
He was finding it unfortunate she was in that bra that made him want to trail the lace at her tits with this tongue, those jeans that rode low on her hips that made him want to peel them off, she was cute, funny, and smarter than any woman he’d ever met, which meant she could go head to head with him and sometimes win. And he was finding this unfortunate because he didn’t know whether to laugh, grab her and kiss her, or growl.
“I meant to tell you about the call to your dad,” he reiterated.
“How about this for an alternate scenario?” she suggested, still sarcastic. “You talk to me about such things, including and especially if it involves speaking to my dad who’s my dad but he’s also my boss. Then I decide, or if necessary, we discuss how said speaking to my dad will happen.”
“He was happy to know, Emme,” Deck informed her.
“Yeah, Jacob,” she leaned toward him, “I know. He is right now lamenting the fact that I didn’t run into you on the street months ago so he could invite you to our annual family trip to Breckenridge and he is currently out buying you your own personal snowmobile. Which FYI, me, all my siblings and brother and sisters-in-law all have at Dad’s place in Breck. In other words, not only is he coming up to take care of business that he pays me to do, he’s either figured out we’re together or is praying to God at the same time doing a voodoo love dance, hoping we’ll get together because he’s always liked you like I always liked you. A lot.”
“He knows we’re together,” Deck told her.
“What? Did you tell him that too?”
Deck said nothing.
She stared.
The stare turned into a glare.
Then she hissed, “I cannot believe you.”
“Babe—”
“Don’t babe me, Jacob!” she snapped, her voice rising and her hands flying out to her sides before she clamped them both on her hips. “I can’t believe you told Dad we’re together!”
“Is it a secret?” he asked.
“No! But you haven’t seen him in nine years. I have, like, regularly, and I’m also his daughter, the fruit of his loins, so I think I should get to share with him who I’m dating, don’t you?”
The fruit of his loins.
F*ck, he wasn’t going to be able to stop his smile.
She caught it, the vibe in the bathroom turned heavy and her voice got low. “This isn’t funny, Jacob.”
“Emme, you don’t want me to laugh, don’t rant at me saying shit like ‘fruit of his loins’ lookin’ cute and sexy in jeans and a bra.”
He knew that was the wrong thing to say when she closed her eyes, looked away, then turned back and opened her eyes again.
“You are very intelligent,” she said quietly. “But because of that, you do not know all and get to do whatever the f*ck you want to do. We’re talking about my job and my father. Discussing those how we’re discussing them and why is not amusing. I don’t care if I’m wearing a clown suit.”
Yeah. It was the wrong thing to say.
But something struck him about her reaction and this entire scenario.
She was pissed but this was something important that they could work out, even if the dialogue was heated.
So she wasn’t cursing like a sailor. She wasn’t shouting. She hadn’t lost her mind.
She was holding it together, sharing what was on her mind and calling up patience in an effort to get it through to him.
And f*ck, he liked that.
He uncrossed his arms from his chest, planted his hands on his hips and spoke quietly in return.
“You’re right. You’re cute, sexy and funny, even when we’re arguing, but you’re right. And, just so you know, he knows about McFarland’s issues with the law but he doesn’t know about your relationship with McFarland.”
Relief flashed in her face and Deck kept talking.
“But I don’t seem to be able to impress on you I got concerns about this guy, I don’t want you to have f*ck-all to do with him no matter how that comes about, and I think the fact that I’d go to your dad to deal with him should say just how fundamental those concerns are.”
“Okay, Jacob, I hear you, but you need to understand, things that are important to me, my family, my job, my house, you don’t make unilateral decisions, act on them and inform me later… or not. You talk to me.”
“Point taken,” he conceded and she blinked.
“Pardon?” she asked.
“You’re right, baby. I acted out of concern but f*cked up. It won’t happen again.”
“You… I…” she blinked again, this time she did it twice and fast, “just like that?”
“Just like what?”
“You’re agreeing with me?”
“Yeah, Emme. You’re right. I f*cked up. I’m admitting it. Shit happens like this again, which I hope to Christ it won’t, I’ll discuss it with you before I carry a decision forward if that decision affects you.”
“I…” she hesitated, “don’t know what to say.”
“Nothin’ to say. We don’t have time for makeup sex, seein’ as your dad’s lookin’ forward to seein’ you, I gotta drop you at work then I gotta get to the courthouse for the bond hearings. So you need to get dressed and we need to go.”
“Can I at least kiss you?” she asked, and Deck grinned.
She was indicating the fight was over and now he could appreciate her being cute and sexy again, up close.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
She started toward him, stopped and her brows drew together.
“Why are you dropping me at work? Persephone is here. I can drive to Gnaw Bone and you can go to the courthouse.”
“Cletus is stayin’ in the garage since you’re spending the night.”
Her face softened, she liked that idea but she said, “Dad’s in town.”
F*ck.
“Your dad, your call to make, Emme. But whatever bed you’re in tonight, want you to know, my preference is that I’m in it with you.”
“I renovated the guest room so Mom and Dad would have a nice place to sleep when they came up.”
“Then it’s your place.”
She held his eyes. “Dad will love Buford.”
He grinned again. “And me in your bed.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, and he knew she liked that idea.
Seeing her room during and before his tour, not to mention seeing her sleeping naked in her bed, he did too.
“You gonna kiss me and get your ass in gear or stand there staring at me?” he asked.
She moved forward, rolled up on her toes, rounded his shoulders with her arms and she kissed him.
Deck bent into her and kissed her back.
* * *
Three and a half hours later…
“Hey, honey.”
That was the greeting Deck got from Emme on his phone as he was walking out of the courtroom after the hearings.
“How’s everything going?” he asked.
“Dad’s communing with the men, cracking jokes and generally being his normal awesome. He’s happy we’re in the black and how in the black we are. He’s ecstatic I have new insulation. He’s disappointed you didn’t drop me at work so he could see you. And he’s decreed I’m not cooking tonight, we’re going to dinner in town. And just so you know, when that happens, he pays and don’t even try to fight him. A couple of my sister’s boyfriends tried to do that and it got ugly. So, unfortunately, our date night is screwed but on the bright side, I get to spend time with my dad and you, which far from sucks.”
He was glad she was having quality time with her father even if the reason it came about was f*cked.
But no one paid for his dinner and now no one paid for his girl’s. She pulled that shit last night and then distracted him before he could have it out with her.
And he didn’t give a shit if it got ugly. Barry would have to deal. And the kind of man Barry was, Deck reckoned he’d get it. But if he didn’t, they’d split the check.
“Sounds like you’re havin’ a good morning,” Deck noted as he moved to his truck.
“Yeah,” she replied. “How’s yours?”
He got close to his vehicle, bleeped his locks and answered, “Judge set bail. After that, shit can go fast, honey. And McFarland had a nice condo and a nice truck. I found a storage unit with a shitload of stolen property in it they hadn’t got ’round to fencing but Chace phoned this morning and said the inventory the boys were doin’ shows that a lot of shit that was reported stolen was not in that unit. Which means it’s already been fenced, he probably got his cut so he could have the collateral to make bond in the form of cash. And that cash won’t be in a bank account they can freeze. So you need to go talk to your dad. He’s up.”
“Okay,” she said on a sigh.
“No phones, Emme,” he warned. “Your cell only if you know who’s callin’. But other than that, your dad or someone else mans the phones. You good with that?”
“Don’t you think Dane has enough problems, imminently losing his job being another one, that he won’t be thinking about bothering me?”
She just wouldn’t get this. Then again, she’d twisted in her head that the whackjob who snatched her from a playground at school was a good, kind guy.
But he saw the photos of her with McFarland. She was affectionate and enjoyed affection. He was over the top. He gave her a stolen ring to press his suit. He’d used his one phone call to phone her, not an attorney, not a relative, not anyone who could do something for him, but Emme to talk about whatever the f*ck he wanted to discuss with her, being incarcerated and knowing she knew he gave her a stolen ring.
This guy was bad news. Deck felt it in his gut. He was not the ringleader of that crazy shit. But he was stupid enough to get pulled in. And stupid enough to do something for a woman he was gagging for that would bring them all down.
The rest of that crew, they found out about the ring, if they didn’t already know, were going to be pretty f*cking angry.
He needed McFarland’s focus off Emme and he needed to be certain no other focus turned to her.
Shit like this went warped in a blink of an eye, and people like Emme got caught up in it in ways no one would imagine if someone didn’t pay attention.
He stopped at his door of his truck, hand on the handle but turned his sole attention on her.
“I get you don’t want to think bad things about anybody, about bad shit that may be comin’ your way or about a guy you spent time with, baby,” he said quietly. “But I’m asking you if we can end this go-round we got goin’ about this guy, and to do that, I’m askin’ you to trust me. Be safe and be safe by lettin’ me keep you safe however I gotta do that. Now, do you trust me?”
There was a moment’s hesitation before she said, “I’m sorry, honey. I’m being obstinate about this and I don’t know why. Maybe denial.”
“How about you don’t think about it, let me think about it, and you just go about your day. Yeah?”
“It’s… it’s… this is really cool of you, Jacob,” she said, her voice now soft. “We just started. We should be about fun stuff, not you having Dane always in your face. This is a pain and—”
“Babe, just starting or not, this isn’t a pain. You’re in my life, when it comes to you, this is my job. You get a good man, he’ll think of it that way. And he won’t give a f*ck it’s a pain.”
To that he got nothing.
So he called, “Emme?”
“I really like you,” she whispered, and he closed his eyes as her words made his blood heat.
He opened them and yanked open his door.
“I really like you too,” he replied.
“I’m glad.” She was still whispering.
“Go talk to your dad,” he ordered.
“Okay, honey. When are you coming ’round and are you bringing Buford or going back for him after dinner?”
“Your dad know I’m spending the night?”
“Yes, and please don’t worry about that. I’m thirty-four. He’s not stupid. He’s got three other kids older than me and has been through this before prior to them being seriously dressed up in a church. Not to mention, he thinks you can draw up the plans in your mind for a spaceship that can get us to Mars in four hours not four years at the same time go three rounds with Mike Tyson and best him. He’s not got a problem with you spending the night.”
As she was speaking, he’d angled in his truck and closed the door.
Well before she was done, he was smiling at his steering wheel.
“Good to know,” he murmured then said, “Don’t want Buford ambling around your house alone first time he’s there. Also don’t want him to sit in a cold truck while we’re eatin’. I’ll swing back by my house after dinner and get him.”
“All right.”
“Gonna let you go.”
“Okay, honey. Talk to you later.”
“I’ll be at your house around four thirty.”
“Works for me.”
“Good, baby. See you then.”
“Okay, Jacob. ’Bye.”
“Later, honey.”
He disconnected with a smile still on his lips and he was about to toss his cell on the seat beside him when it rang.
The display said “Lee Nightingale calling.”
He put the phone to his ear. “Lee.”
“Yo, Deck. You got time to talk?” Lee replied.
“Yeah,” Deck answered, settling back, eyes scanning the area outside his windshield, attention on the phone.
“Did what you asked, set Hector on it, got a verbal report this morning,” Lee told him.
“Give it to me,” Deck invited.
“Harvey Feldman. Sixty-one years of age. Did a nickel for kidnapping, refused to be considered for parole. Did the whole run, his decision. Got out, did his stint in a halfway house. Got a job. Got a house. House paid in full now. Car paid in full. Bills paid on time. Taxes filed on time. Goes to work on time. No sick days. Stellar performance evaluations. Well liked at work. Not a loner. Goes out for drinks with the boys. Looks after his neighbor’s cat when she’s on vacation. Mows his other neighbor’s yard ’cause she’s eighty-nine and refuses to go into a nursing home. Described as kind of quiet, but friendly, and kind. Although not a loner, never remarried. No one’s ever seen him even datin’. Puts money in a 401K that’ll mean his retirement will be comfortable but he won’t be in the lap of luxury.”
Deck didn’t have a good feeling about this.
Too perfect.
And it fit something Emme said in a way he didn’t like.
“There more?” he asked when Lee stopped talking.
“Yeah. Hector said Harvey Feldman is the most boring assignment I’ve given him and he says you now owe him too.”
Deck didn’t smile.
Instead, he noted, “Squeaky clean. Hector get eyes on this guy?”
“Yeah,” Lee answered.
“What’s the vibe? He report that?”
“Outside of the job being boring, no. And if Hector got a vibe, he’d report it. Regular Joe outside of out of the blue once kidnapping a twelve-year-old-girl. Got no priors to that, no problems after. Not even a parking ticket.”
“I don’t like this,” Deck muttered, unable to put his finger on why he didn’t.
“You wanna clue me in on who Emmanuelle Holmes is to you?” Lee fished.
“She’s in my bed,” Deck gave it to him.
“This guy make an approach to her?” Lee asked, his tone, usually alert, was now more so.
Then again, Lee was married, he loved his wife, didn’t mind people knowing it, so he’d get a man looking into the kidnapper of the woman in his bed.
“Not that I know of.”
Her words came to him.
And Harvey took it because he thought he deserved it. He had a daughter. If someone did that to her, he would have done the same.
She called him Harvey like she knew him.
He’d asked how she knew that about the man, she hadn’t answered. Something was not right, and it wasn’t just how Emme had twisted all that to okay in her head.
She’d laid it out, surprisingly honestly.
But this evasiveness was why he didn’t ask her straight up if she had some current connection with Harvey.
She was figuring things out, untwisting what she had twisted in her head, emerging from behind the veil, letting him in. He didn’t want to trip a trigger when she was working on all that, a trigger that might drive her away.
Especially if there wasn’t something to worry about.
But he had a sick pit in his gut telling him there was something to worry about and, until he knew what it was, to avoid tripping that trigger and in order to form a plan on how to deal with it before he approached her about it, he couldn’t broach it with Emme.
“I’m goin’ to Denver, tomorrow or next day. I’m settin’ up eyes on his house,” Deck told Lee. “You got another marker, you let me send those feeds to your control room and your boys keep an eye on that house.”
“No marker, men in that room 24/7, Deck. We can do that, not a problem. I just gotta know what you’re lookin’ for.”
“I also want ears on his phone. Don’t give a f*ck about anything he does, says or who he talks to, except Emme phonin’ him or goin’ for a visit.”
“She’s visiting him?” Lee asked.
“Don’t know. Got sour in my gut, though, so I just gotta go with it until I can work it out.”
Lee Nightingale understood that sour in your gut.
This was why he said, “Let us know when you’re in Denver. I’ll ask Vance to go out and help you with the feeds.”
“Obliged.”
“In the meantime, we’ll get into his phones.”
“Thanks, Lee.”
“Again, not a problem. Later, Deck.”
“Later.”
They disconnected but Deck didn’t turn on the ignition or throw his phone aside.
He tapped it on the steering wheel and looked straight ahead, unseeing.
It was coming to her, what that whackjob wrought when he took her, how she’d slipped behind that particular veil, breathing but not living, not connecting. Twenty-two years later, it was coming to her.
But she seemed entirely calm and unaffected when she talked about the kidnapping, only concerned that what she was learning it did to her cost her time with him.
She showed no fear whatsoever when it came to Harvey Feldman.
Deck had taken two contracts where he’d tracked, and rescued, kidnapped kids.
He’d also worked a situation with Chace that led to two kidnapped kids.
They were not calm and unaffected in the slightest.
That sour feeling in his gut, he pulled his thoughts out of that shit, tossed his cell aside, turned on his truck and guided it into traffic.
He drove three blocks.
Then he positioned.
* * *
Forty-five minutes later…
Deck stood, ass and shoulders to his truck, feet out in front of him, ankles crossed, arms crossed, shades on, eyes to the door.
The crew came out one by one.
McFarland was the fourth one out.
Deck had no interest in the rest but McFarland felt his gaze from twenty yards away and looked immediately to him.
Deck didn’t move. Not his shades. Not a muscle.
McFarland looked to the ground, jaw tight, pissed off and hustled to a black SUV that was idling outside the jail.
He got in and took off.
Deck watched him go.
Only then did he get back in his truck and drive away.
* * *
Late that night…
Deck’s eyes opened.
Emme was sprawled half on him, dead weight, where he’d put her when he was done with her and where she’d stayed.
The guest room was at the other end of the hall. Still, when he did her, he had to do it with his mouth on hers nearly the whole time, stifling her mews, moans, whimpers and, finally, cries.
Not to mention using her mouth to smother his groans.
The moonlight was coming in through her sheers, something he liked even though it was possible heat was escaping her windows, heat the curtains would trap. Still, the house was warmer and it was likely the boiler didn’t have to work as hard to make it that way.
She still needed new windows.
She was naked, something he asked for and got. Taking back that memory of McFarland leaving her that way, making that his.
He was awake because he didn’t sleep much. Usually when this happened, he got up, worked out, went for a run in the dark, worked or read. The last couple of nights with Emme, he lay with her cuddled close and let his mind wander. This was not an issue, he’d done that plenty in his years of short sleeps. It was just better with Emme’s strawberry in his nostrils, her soft body tucked close.
Now he lay with her but he was unsettled.
This was because, even with the nonverbal warning Deck gave him by standing outside the jail, McFarland had gone right home to his truck then right to the lumberyard.
He was met by Barry Holmes, and according to both Barry and Emmanuelle, Emme didn’t even see him.
Barry suspended him without pay pending the outcome of the investigation of the charges filed against him. He’d be terminated officially when he went down, but the deed was done. He was gone.
Barry also told him he would be officially terminated if he got anywhere near lumberyard property or anything associated with it, including vehicles, clients or employees.
McFarland took this and went away.
But it didn’t say good things he ignored Deck’s multiple warnings as well as Shaughnessy’s.
It was partly about keeping his job.
But Deck reckoned it was mostly about Emme.
Knowing he wouldn’t sleep and his mind too cluttered to enjoy lying there with his girl, he carefully slid out from under her. She curled around a pillow as he angled out of bed.
“Stay,” he murmured when Buford’s head came up.
Emme had a king-size bed. He had a California king but Emme’s bed was far from small. Even so, looking at the bed, Deck and Emme had been taking a quarter of it. His hound had claimed the other three.
Buford put his head back down on a groan. Deck reached out over Emme and ran a hand down his dog’s side. That got him a quieter groan.
He went to his bag, yanked out a pair of pajama bottoms and a thermal, tugged them on then rooted around for his book. Nabbing it, he moved back through the room, a room he still found it hard to believe Emme refinished by herself.
The floors had been sanded and restored, now gleaming. The same with the woodwork and mantel. Beamed wood ceilings, the wood cleaned and polished. Reskimmed walls, painted a soothing light green.
The furniture in there was not modern or antique. It was welcoming and comfortable with a bent to feminine. Two overstuffed easy chairs angled in a corner with ottomans and a table close at hand with a silver-based lamp. Heavy glass-based lamps on the nightstands by the bed. Soft cream sheets with green stitching. Downy, green-colored comforter cover. Warm woods all around, but with carving and scrollwork that gave it femininity and personality. Thick woven large area rugs on the floors, delicate patterns in them reflecting the room’s colors.
Nothing in your face. It was subtle. Attractive. Inviting. It wasn’t a room you slept in. It was a room you spent time in.
All created and chosen by Emme.
It was so remarkable she did this all on her own, it was almost humbling.
He liked that.
He also liked her room.
Maybe when they were deeper in their relationship and she was used to him and his sleeping patterns, he’d leave her in bed, go to one of those chairs, turn on that lamp and read with her close.
Maybe, if she could sleep through the light, he wouldn’t leave her at all, turn on the lamp by the bed and read with her curled into him.
He’d have to explain his sleep and ask.
He hoped she was up for the latter.
But now was not that time.
Instead, he headed to the family room to read but changed paths when he saw a light coming from the kitchen.
He wasn’t surprised to see Barry sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, robe on, slippers on his feet.
And he was again reminded that even as smart as he was, he could be dumb.
Barry, not a young man, was still a handsome one. Dark hair now densely silvered with gray. Dark brown eyes. Fit body. Not brawn. Not lean either. Tall.
His wife, as displayed in pictures in their house, had been stunning and given her eyes to both her daughters. When Deck met her, she could still turn heads.
And all their kids were the same, save Emme way back when, who was, she just didn’t show it.
Nor did Deck look for it.
Seeing Barry up late, drinking coffee and appearing reflective, Deck knew why.
Deck had not only shared that McFarland was an employee run amuck. He’d also carefully shared that he might have an unhealthy fixation on Emme. He had not, however, shared that Emme was seeing McFarland. Making that decision, which had turned out to be a mistake, was hers to share with her father and her boss.
When he came in, Barry’s eyes came to him and Deck asked, “Can’t sleep?”
“Father’s intuition,” was Barry’s reply.
Deck nodded and joined him at the table.
“Get you a cup?” Barry asked, tipping his head to his.
“I’m good,” Deck declined.
Barry nodded, put his eyes to his cup and lifted it to his lips.
Only when he put it down did his eyes go back to Deck and he noted, “I’m feeling I’m missing something in all this.”
His father’s intuition was on the mark.
“Emme was not pleased I didn’t give her the opportunity to share direct with you something like this was happening with one of your employees,” Deck told him. “If something’s missing, this morning I promised to let her share that or discuss it with her before it’s shared.”
“So I’m missing something,” he surmised.
“Askin’ you not to put me in this spot, Barry,” Deck replied softly. “Ask your daughter.”
Barry nodded and looked to the dark window over the kitchen sink. He couldn’t see anything out that window, but Deck knew he wasn’t really looking.
“Why are you up, son?” he asked the window.
“Sleep four hours a night. Use the extra time to do shit I don’t have time to do during the day.” Barry looked back at him and Deck tapped the book he’d put on the table. “Thought I’d read awhile.”
“Don’t have to keep me company if you don’t like,” Barry told him.
“Don’t have to keep you company if you don’t want me to,” Deck replied, and Barry shook his head.
“Liked you the minute I met you, Jacob. Liked you and liked how you were with my girl. Never quite understood why Elsbeth ended things with you. Maeve said she was plum stupid. I agreed. It appears things work out the way they’re meant to be, or at least that’s my hope. Bottom line, nice to spend time with you again seeing as I enjoyed having that opportunity occasionally back in the day.”
“Sentiments returned, Barry.”
“But if you break my daughter’s heart, I’ll break you.”
Deck’s head jerked at this swift turn in their conversation.
“Know how sharp you are,” Barry continued. “Don’t know what you do for a living but I suspect it’s interesting. But money goes a long way, I got a lot of that, and you hurt my girl, I’ll use everything I got to hurt you back.”
“Barry, this isn’t—” Deck started to assure him.
“She’s different,” Barry whispered, and Deck shut his mouth at the pain and worry stark in Barry’s eyes.
Old pain and worry. Etched there. Hidden by strength of will. Exposed now for a purpose.
“I know what happened to her,” Deck told him quietly, hoping to ease the burden and not make him say those words out loud.
But he’d find with what Barry said next there was no way to ease this burden.
“Man lives three days not knowing where his daughter is,” Barry replied. “Three days not knowing if she’s eating. Not knowing if someone’s touching her. Not knowing if she’s dead in a ditch. Torture, Jacob. Utter torture made worse by looking at my wife, my boys, my other little girl, knowing they have the same thoughts eating away their brains. We got her back, we went on but we never recovered. You don’t. You don’t forget that feeling. You wake up tasting it in your mouth and you go to bed and send your thanks to God you got through the day and she’s somewhere you know where she is, sleeping safe.”
“I can’t imagine, Barry, and I don’t want to,” Deck said truthfully, holding his eyes.
“No. You don’t. But what I’m saying is, not one thing is going to harm my baby girl. Not again. I like you, Jacob. I respect you. I got the feeling you’re a good man, and I’m rarely wrong about that. And she likes you too, a great deal, years ago, but now, it’s a whole lot more. So if you hurt her, I will break you.”
“Again, I know what happened to her. You don’t know me well but I’ll tell you straight. I would not be at this table with you coming from where I just came from, knowing what I know Emme endured, knowing the woman your daughter is, how I feel about her, taking us where we are and leading us where I want us to be if I wasn’t very serious about being on that path.”
Barry’s gaze didn’t waver from Deck’s for long moments before he nodded.
“You’ll take no offense,” Barry stated, ending it.
“Absolutely,” Deck agreed.
He should have expected it just because Barry was the man he was. And that was a man who loved his daughter and took care of her no matter what her age. In other words, he argued about the bill that night and only backed down when he took a good look at Deck’s expression and the bulk of his frame. But when he backed down, he did it only slightly.
He was a man like Deck. No one paid for his meal. No one paid for his girl.
They split the bill.
Barry kept talking.
“As her father, I got to let her be free to live her life, make her decisions and make her mistakes. As her boss, the same. As both, I got to give her the freedom to share about her decisions or her mistakes if she feels she needs to do that. Emme’s her own girl, and I reckon you had an interesting conversation this morning but tonight you both made it clear there are no hard feelings. I appreciate the respect you’re giving her by making a promise and keeping it. But as just her father sitting at three thirty in the morning at her kitchen table with the man who’s making my baby girl his, I got to know how worried I need to be about what I don’t know.”
“I’m not a father. I can’t answer that. But I reckon whatever I say is not going to make you worry any more or less than you already are. The only thing I can tell you is I’ve shared my concerns with the right people, including Emmanuelle, and she’s got a lot of eyes on her, including mine. That’s all I have to give now, Barry, and I hope you can accept that.”
Barry sighed before he stated, “I’m getting the impression this is new for you two, so I hope in return you don’t mind me cramping your style because I’ll be taking more frequent trips to Gnaw Bone, Jacob. Not because I don’t trust you. But when it comes to Emme, it’s just what I got to do.”
“Understandable.”
“I’ll give you space but I’ll be around.”
“We’ll work with that.”
“And, you need me to, you two go on a date or something, I’ll watch your dog because he’s a cute, droopy bugger.”
Deck smiled. “Might take you up on that.”
Barry nodded. Then he patted a hand palm flat on the table before he got up and walked his cup to the sink.
He turned around and declared, “Maeve tells me she has nightmares about this kitchen.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Deck replied, still smiling.
Barry smiled back. “I’m gonna hit it and try again to sleep. See you in the morning, son.”
“Good night, Barry.”
“Night, Jacob.”
Barry walked out. Deck picked up his book, turned out the lights and went to the family room to settle in.
He opened his book making the decision to speak with Emme, tell her what happened with her dad and encourage her to lay it out so Barry had the information he needed to focus his attention and his worry.
Then he put his eyes to his book and read.
When the time was right, he stopped reading, switched out the lights, walked upstairs and slid back into bed with Emme, woke her gently then proceeded to do things to her where he had to use his mouth to stifle the noise.