“And that’s what being a real leader is about. If you want any hope of replacing me one day, you will help Wilkes see that.”
“I don’t think he can be swayed. At least, not by me. I’m the devil reincarnate, as far as he’s concerned.”
Canning’s gaze flickers over the framed picture of his son for a moment, before meeting my eyes. “Everyone can be swayed.”
CHAPTER 48
Officer Abraham Wilkes May 2, 2003
“Hey, babe.” I lean over the couch to plant a kiss on Dina’s lips. “Sorry I missed soccer tonight.”
“Did you catch the bad guys?” She peers up at me with those stunning green eyes, the ones she’s blessed our daughter with. She’s not happy about all the extra hours lately, but she’s never openly given me grief about it.
That’s why lying to her about what I’m doing is especially shitty. But I’d rather lie than tell her the whole truth. At least, for now.
“Not yet. Did she go down easy?”
Dina shrugs. “She’s your daughter. Stubborn to the bone.”
I chuckle.
“I’ll bet she’s still holding on to that book.”
“Did you do the gruff voice?”
“?‘Not like Daddy does it,’?” Dina mimics Gracie’s childish timbre. “Hey, did you come home at all tonight?”
I frown. “No. Why?”
A worried look flickers over her face. “Just a feeling I had, is all. Like someone had been in here.”
“The doors were locked?”
“Yeah.”
“Anything missing?”
“Not from what I can see. I don’t know . . . it was a weird vibe. It’s probably just me, being home alone so much. Maybe we should get a dog,” she admits reluctantly, and then rolls her eyes at my wide grin. I’ve been trying to convince her to get one for years, with no luck. “You know, Gracie saw this mangy little thing at the park and tried to bring it home with us.” It sounds like an accusation. “I told her that Noah wouldn’t come over anymore if we brought a stray home.”
“He’d get over it soon enough.” As soon as he saw how much Gracie loved having a dog.
Dina levels me with a look. “We are not bringing home a stray.”
“They need love, too.” I lean down to kiss her again. “Gonna grab a shower. See you in bed soon?”
I get a coy smile in return, and it’s enough to make me rush.
But Dina’s words linger in my mind, long after her naked body lies still beside me. Enough that I find myself wandering through the house in the middle of the night, checking the locks and drawers, seeing if anything looks out of place.
I find nothing.
And yet my unease lingers.
* * *
May 3, 2003
“A head of romaine, right?” I call out over my shoulder, heading for my car.
“Please.”
“Daddy, wait! I wanna come to the store with you!” Gracie comes tearing down the steps, stopping to adjust the Velcro on her bright pink sneakers before rushing the rest of the way.
Dina and I share a knowing look. Gracie hasn’t left my side all morning. “I’ll be back in fifteen.” I give one of Gracie’s curly pigtails a light yank and then open the car door.
I freeze when I spot a black duffel bag sitting on the backseat. I don’t have to open it to guess what it is.
“You know what, Gracie May? I just remembered. I have to stop at the station today and—”
“No!” She begins to pout. “I wanna come with you!”
“You can’t today. Next time, I promise.”
“But, Daddy! I want to—”
“No, Gracie,” I say with a rare firm voice, before she resorts to a full-blown tantrum in the middle of the sidewalk. I soften it with a promise to get ice cream later.
With a huff and tears in her eyes, she trudges back up the stairs and buries her face in Dina’s legs.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth, nearly flinching at the look of displeasure on Dina’s face. “It’ll be more like an hour.”
CHAPTER 49
Grace
Noah slides in from behind to hover over my shoulder as I toss a handful of peppers into a bowl. His skin is slick with sweat, but I don’t mind. Actually, I find it appealing.
“Is Jenson still here?” I left them outside, playing one-on-one in the driveway.
“Gone home.” I can’t help the slight tremble as he leans in to kiss the side of my neck, his hands hot against my hips. “Is there enough for me, too?”
“There’s plenty. This fool I know bought way too much of everything.”
I feel his lips curve into a smile. “Lucky for me. I’m starving.”
“Didn’t you eat half a cow an hour ago?” I glance at the oven clock to confirm when Jenson showed up with a bag of burgers. Noah ate his and most of mine.
“What’s your point?”
“I don’t understand where you put it all.”
“I burn it. Playing ball, running . . . doing other things.”
I glance up in time to catch Noah’s eyes dipping into my tank top. He grins at me and heat floods through my body instantly. It’s been three days since I woke up tangled in his bedsheets, and we’ve spent most of that time holed up in that room, distracting ourselves while we wait for the FBI and APD to nail Mantis and Stapley.
Noah has made the frustrating wait bearable.
I sniff teasingly. “You need a shower.”
“I do need a shower.” Strong hands pull me backward.
“Uh-uh. No way. I’m not drying my hair again today.”
“Then don’t.”
“Are you . . . did you forget what happens?”
His deep chuckles tell me he hasn’t forgotten the untamed clown’s wig that I woke up with this morning, after I shared a shower with him last night.
“You’re such a jerk.”
“Come on . . . You can wear one of those things to keep it dry.”
“A shower cap?” I cringe at the mental image of a gorgeous, naked Noah and me, in my pink plastic cap. Having sex. I turn to give him a playful shove away, but he’s no longer paying attention to me, distracted by the TV.
Canning’s on the news again.
I dive for the remote to turn up the volume.
“We have what we’d call ‘persons of interest,’?” Canning says. “Though, I’m fairly confident two of them will be cleared of all wrongdoing.”
I frown. “Who’s he talking about? Mantis and Stapley?”
“I don’t know. But look at him, pretending to be innocent.” Noah’s teeth grind, his jaw so tense. “He shouldn’t be up there. Towle’s the acting chief. Why the hell is he up there!”
“There’s nothing we can do about it. You heard Kristian.” I called him the second we turned out of Canning’s driveway yesterday. Aside from an “I told you so” and a sharp warning to not say a word about it to anyone including the DA, he confirmed what we already know—that “sleeping dogs” gets us nowhere.
“Confidential sources have confirmed that these persons of interest are APD officers. Can you comment?” a voice in the crowd says.
“I cannot. Next question.”
“Is there any connection between Chief Jackie Marshall’s suicide and the uncovering of this new evidence behind Abraham Wilkes’s death?”
Noah’s back stiffens.
“I can confirm that Chief Marshall’s death led to law enforcement discovering new evidence.”
“Did Chief Marshall have knowledge about Abraham Wilkes’s death that she did not make public?”
“She did.”
“Son of a bitch,” Noah mutters.
“Was Chief Marshall involved in Abraham Wilkes’s death?”
“Involved?” Canning seems to mull that over. “I’d say there certainly have been questions raised, yes, sir.”
“That son of a bitch!” Noah roars, looking ready to tear the flat-screen from the wall. “He’s trying to throw her under the damn bus!”
I bite my tongue before I say something insensitive. Before I point out that nothing Canning said was a lie. Technically, all of it was true. Because Noah’s also right—Canning is trying to focus the attention on Jackie. He wants her pinned with my father’s murder. Kristian warned as much.
“Do you want me to phone Kris—”
“What the hell is he going to do?” Noah snaps, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
I reach for him, smoothing a hand over his back, his shirt damp beneath my palm, the tension coursing through him palpable.