“No. Family…situation.” Macavoy’s breathing was worsening, each breath ending with a squeaky wheeze.
The dispatcher paused before saying, “You’re sounding pretty short of breath, Angus. Are you okay?”
“Fine.” The word came out as a gasp.
“You sure? Do you need me to send medical out to your place?”
Rob’s hand jerked, jamming the gun barrel against Macavoy’s head. The deputy winced away and then froze, as if expecting a shot.
“No!” Macavoy yelped, before he sucked in an audible breath and then continued more calmly. “No. I’m…fine. Just stress because…of the family…thing. Don’t send med. I’ll nebulize right after…this call.”
“Okay.” The dispatcher sounded reluctant to let it go, and Rob gave Macavoy’s temple another shove to remind him to wrap up things. “You’ll call back if things get any worse, though?”
“I…will. Have to…go now.”
“Well, you have my email.” The dispatcher’s tone had lightened. “Let us know how things turn out for you.”
With a sideways glance at Rob, Macavoy muttered agreement before ending the call. “I did…what you asked. I’ll…leave. I won’t tell…anyone.”
“It’s really too bad. You were a good deputy.”
Rob pulled the trigger.
Chapter 6
Tyler met him at the back door with a bucket of soapy water, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and a garbage bag. How had this happened, that his sixteen-year-old son knew Luminol would light up bleach residue like a Fourth-of-July sparkler? All Rob had ever wanted to do was to protect his kid, but everything had gone wrong.
“What are you doing?” Guilt leant a snap to his voice, and Tyler took a step back.
“Helping.” Tyler held out the garbage bag. After a long moment, Rob sighed and accepted it.
“You shouldn’t help.” Rob stepped farther into the shelter of the porch before he dragged off his boots, BDUs, and sweatshirt. Although Esko Hills was a nice neighborhood, a good place to raise a family, it had more than its share of busybodies and curious gazes. “I’m your dad. It’s my responsibility to take care of things like this, not yours. Your job is to go to school and not get into trouble.” He gave his son a meaningful look.
Dropping his gaze to the floor, Tyler muttered, “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
“We’ve talked about this.” In just his boxer briefs and socks, the air was cold against his skin. Rob hurried to shove his clothes into the garbage bag and yanked the drawstring. “Every time, you risk exposing yourself—and me.”
His son’s shoulders curled forward. “I know.”
“C’mon.” Rob reached to put a hand on the back of Tyler’s neck, but stopped when he saw blood smeared across his thumb and index finger. “Let’s go inside.”
As the door closed behind them, Tyler turned. “Dad?”
“Yeah?” Rob used the soapy water to scrub at the smear on his right hand. Once the visible blood was gone, he uncapped the hydrogen peroxide and began pouring it over his hands.
“What really happened to Mom?”
He froze for a moment, watching the peroxide bubble on his skin. “What do you mean?”
“Until that day, she’d always come back. Always. And when you walked in and saw her hitting me… You looked really mad. Like, madder than I’ve ever seen you get.”
“Why are you asking this?”
Tyler lifted one thin shoulder. “I guess because you always take care of me. That, and I wondered why she stopped coming home.”
Drying his hands on a paper towel that he added to the garbage bag of clothes, Rob said, “Take these to the outdoor wood furnace, would you?” As much as he didn’t want his son involved in any part of this, no matter how small that part may be, Rob needed to escape the conversation. He’d never lied to Tyler, and he wasn’t about to start now.
“Sure.” Taking the bag, Tyler took a few steps toward the door and then paused. “Thank you. I used to be so scared she’d come back.”
Rob watched his son’s back until the door closed behind Tyler.
You’re welcome.
*
Her mom was sobbing. Daisy had never heard her mom cry—not like this. In her spot, crouched behind the snack-cake display, she shook and mentally called herself a coward. She should do something, help her mom somehow, but all she could do was cower and try to hold back the scream that wanted to escape. His finger tightened on the trigger—
The ringing of her cell phone brought her out of her nightmare with a jerk. Before she could figure out where she was, Daisy twisted toward the sound and fell off the window seat onto the hardwood floor.
“Ow,” she groaned, crawling toward where her still-ringing phone sat on her nightstand. By the time she reached it and saw that it was her dad, the call had gone to voice mail. She tapped her screen to call him as she sat on the floor, leaning her back against the side of the bed.