Talia couldn’t think what to do next.
“Take off your shoes and jeans, honey. You’ll rest better,” Bowie said, but when she tried to unbutton the waistband of her jeans her hands were shaking too much to grip.
“Here, let me help,” he said, and had her barefoot and her jeans off in moments.
She crawled in between the sheets, and when her head hit the pillow, she sighed. She closed her eyes as Bowie drew up the covers to warm her, then pulled the shades and curtains to darken the room. She needed to thank him, but she could barely focus.
“Bowie?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for coming back. Thank you for forgiving me. Thank you for—”
Bowie sighed. She’d fallen asleep in midsentence. He glanced around the room to the easy chair near her desk, pulled it close to her bed and settled in. He sent a text to his mother, telling her Marshall was gone, and that Talia was in shock and he couldn’t get her warm. He said that he’d put her to bed and wouldn’t leave until he was sure she was okay.
Within seconds he got a text back.
Stay with her. Samuel and Bella are spending the night. They send their love and so do I.
Bowie pinched the bridge of his nose to keep from crying as he laid his phone aside. There was a knot in his belly. The past few days had, without doubt, been the worst days of their lives. Things had to start getting better.
He heard Talia crying, but she was asleep and so fragile he couldn’t bear to see her lying there alone. He kicked off his boots and eased down on top of the covers beside her. He put one arm over her waist, and stretched the other on to the pillow above her head and just held her.
Slowly her shaking began to ease until she was finally still.
And they slept.
Eleven
Constable Riordan and a search team rolled up to the Wayne lake house at mid-afternoon. Riordan had asked Chief Clayton of the Eden PD to deliver the second search warrant to Jack Wayne as he and his men were on their way to the property. He intended to be there before the family got word of the search to make sure no one had time to remove any incriminating evidence.
Riordan had just dispatched part of the team to the large outbuilding west of the house when two vehicles suddenly appeared on the road leading down to the house, driving at a high rate of speed.
“It appears the search warrant has been served,” he said, and then headed for the house with the rest of his team behind him.
*
Blake Wayne was in the car behind his Uncle Jack without knowing exactly why. He’d received a brief text from Jack that he couldn’t ignore.
Get to the lake house now.
He’d reacted without question, but now that he saw the contingent of police vans and vehicles on the property, his gut knotted.
“What the hell?” he muttered, as he came to a sliding halt beside Jack’s car.
Jack had pulled up practically to the front door and was already out of his car and heading for the house, bellowing at the top of his voice, when Blake caught up with him.
“Stop them!” Jack yelled, pointing at the police, who were about to break in the door.
Riordan heard Jack shout and stopped his men in the act of forcing the door.
“It appears the man with the key just arrived,” he drawled.
Jack waded through the officers surrounding Riordan, resisting the urge to push and shove.
“If you wanted to search this property, you should have asked,” Jack blustered, as he fished the door key from his pocket.
Riordan resented the man’s attitude and didn’t bother to hide it.
“No, sir, I don’t have to ask you for anything,” Riordan said. “Your legal notification was served, and that’s all the warning you get when you are a suspect in a murder investigation.”
Jack sputtered and muttered beneath his breath as he unlocked the door, but it was hard to argue with the truth. The door swung inward, and Jack started to lead the way inside, when Riordan stopped him.
“No, sir. You will be staying outside.”
“But I can help—”
Riordan’s eyes narrowed angrily.
“You didn’t even mention this place existed when we asked where the guns might be, so your assistance is not only unnecessary, it is unwanted. It’s a trust issue. I’m sure you understand.”
Blake made his way through the crowd in time to hear Riordan ordering Jack to stay out of the house, and when Riordan saw him, he waved Blake away, too, designating a young officer to stay outside with both of them, under orders not to let them out of his sight.
Jack threw his arms up in a gesture of exasperation. “I resent the hell out of you continually treating us like criminals.” But the moment he said it, he realized how ridiculous it sounded. In the eyes of the law, they were all murder suspects. “Whatever,” he muttered, and strode back toward his car.
Blake followed, saying nothing. When he saw a half-dozen other officers milling around the garage, he started toward them when their guard stopped him.