by Debbie Mason
“What did you tell him?” Michael asked.
“My great-grandson won’t be happy about this, Simon. Or happy with me, I’m afraid. But I did what I thought was best at the time. I only meant to protect the girls.”
“Your great-grandmother was the one who called social services on Charlie all those years before and had Shay and her sisters removed from his care.”
Michael stared at him and then closed his eyes. Leaning forward to place his elbows on the desk, he brought his hands to his face and rubbed his forehead as if to banish the words Jasper said from his head.
Colleen knew her great-grandson well enough to understand what was going on in his mind. There would be no coming back from this. No hope of him having a second chance with Shay after she learned the truth. Though Colleen imagined Michael had begun to come to terms with that possibility when Shay failed to meet him at the village green as she had promised. A piece of news Colleen had gleaned from sitting in this very room while her great-granddaughters-in-law conducted their weekly coffee klatch. Still…“I’m sorry, my boy. It happened long before I realized Shay was your one true love. Even had I known, in good conscience, I couldn’t have stayed silent.”
Atticus shoved his snout under Michael’s arm, no doubt in an effort to comfort him. His master absently patted the dog’s head.
“Madame had her reasons, Master Michael. As you well know, Charlie wasn’t a pillar of society.”
“I don’t think that will bring much comfort to Shay, Jasper. She lost her sisters and, as far as I know, has never been able to find them.”
“Yes, and that’s why we decided to bring the matter to Charlie’s attention. Madame had recorded the name and number of her contact at social services in her book”—he cleared his throat—“a letter that I recently came across in her desk. The adoptions were closed, but your great-grandmother managed to get some information, which she recorded. Both of the adoptive families moved not long after the girls were placed in their care. I gave Charlie their last known addresses. We were just trying to make things right.”
“Obviously, Charlie wasn’t happy to learn the truth,” Michael surmised.
“I’d say that would be an understatement.”
“So, when you gave him the information, did it seem like he was going to tell Shay or was he going to try and find the girls himself?”
“I believe he meant to keep the information to himself in hopes that he would be able to find the girls. You aren’t the only one who feels they have something to make up for where Ms. Angel is concerned, Master Michael. Though, as I’ve told you countless times in the past, the guilt is not yours to bear.”
“The sins of the father, or in this case, the mother, Jasper. And now it seems my great-grandmother.”
“I’m sure Shay will understand that none of this is your fault, darling.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Grams,” he said, a determined look coming over his face as he pushed back from the desk. “I have something I need to check into. If you don’t mind, I’ll leave Atticus here. I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”
“I’ve known you for thirty-four years, and I recognize that look in your eyes, Master Michael. I feel it’s my duty to warn you that going against your code of honor has never served you well in the past. Don’t do it. Don’t put your job in jeopardy.”
“I appreciate your concern, but you don’t have to worry about me putting my job at risk. Shay and I used to date, so it’s reasonable to assume that I could still have a key to Charlie’s place.”
Jasper drew a long and somewhat exasperated breath through his nose before coming to his feet. “You were, without a doubt, one of the finest prosecutors I have ever had the pleasure of watching, and I’m sure, given your desire to serve and protect, you will be an excellent FBI agent. But I’m afraid I don’t have the same level of confidence in your abilities as a thief. So tell me what it is you’re looking for, and I’ll go in your stead.”
Michael appeared both touched and amused. “Thanks, but I’m not sure I’m any more confident in your abilities as a thief as I am in my own.”
“Oh, darling, you have no idea what Jasper is capable of. He’s an excellent thief as well as—” Kitty caught Jasper’s raised-eyebrow glance and cleared her throat. “He’s very good at whatever he sets his mind to.”
“Look, I appreciate the offer, but this is something I have to do on my own. You two have done enough already. I’ll take it from here.”
“What exactly is it you’re planning to do, Master Michael?”
“First, my job. If Charlie is, as you think, searching for his nieces, there should be some evidence of that at his place. Which means he’s not in danger and my interest in him in connection to my case diminishes. But if he wrote anything down about GG’s involvement or happened to leave any of the papers you gave him lying around, I don’t want Shay to find them. According to staff at the Salty Dog, she left Vegas for Harmony Harbor and is expected in the next couple of days. Don’t look so shocked,” he said to Kitty and Jasper. “I still might need her cooperation in my case, and she won’t be feeling very cooperative if she finds out what GG did. And if Charlie doesn’t find her sisters, I will. So don’t worry, she’ll learn the truth eventually. Just not right now.”
“It appears your mind is made up. As that’s the case, wait here for a moment. I have something that should help in the night’s business.”
Michael watched Jasper leave before turning to his grandmother. “What did you mean when you said Jasper was an excellent thief?”
Kitty made a zip-it motion with her fingers.
Colleen wished Jasper had kept his lips zipped. She had a feeling her great-grandson’s trip to the dark side wasn’t going to end well.
* * *
Shay pulled onto the parking pad that looked down on the cedar-shingled home she’d lived in for nine years of her life. It was more of a cottage really and sat just beyond the salt marshes. There was a small enclave of ten homes that had seen better days. Although those days must have been long past because she couldn’t remember them.
It was dark, the quarter moon and stars barely visible in the late-night sky. The lack of streetlights didn’t help. Two were out, the broken glass lying at their ornate cast-iron bases. A leftover symbol of days gone by.
Shay stretched, glad to finally have arrived. She glanced in the rearview mirror at Cherry and Roxy. They were sleeping, soft snores emitting from their open mouths. If she wasn’t so tired, she’d take a picture. It would make for good blackmail material. Cherry didn’t like anyone to see her looking less than her best. And if the road trip from hell was any indication, Shay would need all the blackmail material she could get her hands on.
She popped the trunk, about to get out of the car, when a flicker of light from inside the house caught her eye. Muscles that she hadn’t even known were tight relaxed as her worry over her uncle faded. She picked up her phone, checking to see if it was on, checking to see if there were messages or calls she’d missed. There weren’t any.
She looked back at the house, eyes narrowing on the halo of light that moved from left to right. She’d been wrong. Her uncle wasn’t home. Whoever was in there hadn’t been invited. They were looking for something, or someone.
Movement from behind her brought her gaze to the backseat. Cherry sat up with a sleepy smile and reached between the seat and door. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand, Shaybae. I can’t wait—”
“No, you’re not going anywhere. Not yet,” she said, and leaned across the passenger seat to open the glove box. She took out a Five-seveN handgun.
“That’s a gun. Why do you have a gun?”
The question should probably be how. As a convicted felon, no matter that she’d served her time, Shay wouldn’t legally be allowed to carry had she not worked undercover for the DEA. They’d petitioned a judge for a license on her behalf.
Cherry flapped her hands in front of her face. It sounded like she w
as hyperventilating.
“Relax, it’s just a precaution. I want to check the house.” Shay carefully opened the car door, stepping outside. Keeping an eye on the house, she reached for the lever and moved the seat forward. “Sit up front. If anyone other than me comes out of the house, you drive away, and you drive away fast. Don’t stop until you’re sure no one is following you, and then find someplace well lit and populated and call the cops.”
“Let’s call them now.”
“No.” If Danny Costello had sent someone looking for Charlie, Shay didn’t want the cops involved. She needed to do this on her own. She needed answers, and one way or another, the person inside her uncle’s house would provide them.
Chapter Five
It had been over an hour since Michael had broken into Charlie’s house, and he was beginning to think Jasper would’ve had better luck. Michael’s guilty conscience kept slowing him down. At every squeak and creak, he’d freeze, afraid Charlie was going to walk in and find him there. Though it was possible Shay’s uncle wouldn’t recognize him. Part of Jasper’s break- and-enter kit had consisted of a disguise.
On one level, the fact the older man actually had a B&E kit was worrisome and warranted further investigation. On the other, his expertise had come in handy. Michael was beginning to think he should call Jasper and ask where he thought Charlie might hide the papers if he’d left them behind. So far Michael had searched the living room, kitchen, and Charlie’s bedroom and come up empty.
He didn’t want to push his luck by being there much longer. He’d almost gotten caught when he was picking the lock. Probably because, after failing to open the door for what felt like the twentieth time in so many minutes, he swore in frustration. Repeatedly. And the lights had gone on in the house next door. He was pretty sure he’d heard their sliding glass door open too. He couldn’t tell for certain because, at that point, he was lying facedown on the wooden deck that was littered with dirt and leaves.
If he was honest, though, which he was, sometimes to a fault, he’d admit there were a variety of reasons for his frustration, reasons that had several layers. However, once all the layers had been peeled back, the heart of the matter remained the same. Shay and how he felt about her.
Jasper was right. Michael had been extremely good at his job as ADA. So good, in fact, he probably could make a case that he hadn’t been able to completely get over Shay because circumstances and people had torn them apart. They hadn’t had a chance to quietly grow tired of each other and fall out of love.
Which, given his track record back then, would’ve happened a week later if she hadn’t stolen his car. Instead, all he remembered was being completely and utterly head over heels in love with the woman. Of course, he’d known in the eyes of the world and his mother she was completely and utterly wrong for him. Young and stupidly in love, he hadn’t cared.
“Get a grip and stay focused,” he muttered to himself as he left Charlie’s bedroom empty-handed.
He glanced to his left and headed for Shay’s childhood bedroom at the end of the hall, speculating that Charlie may have gone in there after learning the truth from Jasper. He might have sat on her bed to think about the past—the part he’d played in ruining her life. Everything Shay had suffered because of the Gallaghers.
A low creak caused Michael to freeze in his tracks. He stayed still, listening intently before shaking his head at himself when all he could hear was the hum of the refrigerator. He really wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing. Breaking the law wasn’t in his DNA, even if he could make a justifiable excuse that he’d done so for the greater good. He took another step on the pine floor. No creak, no squeak, no…
“Flashlight down and on the ground,” ordered a familiar terse, feminine voice.
“Shay, I can…,” he began as he turned around.
Bang!
The flashlight exploded in his hand. “Jesus! Shay, it’s me!” He dropped what was left of the flashlight and held up his hands, trying to gauge her reaction from her stance, but he couldn’t really see her. She stood in the shadows. He remembered his disguise and lifted his hand to remove the beard.
Bang!
A bullet whizzed by his head and into the wall behind him. “What the hell? It’s me, Michael. You recognize my voice. I know you do. And if you’d just give me a chance to—”
“I know exactly who you are, Special Agent Gallagher. You’re the man who is trying to build a case against my uncle for murder, and you’ve broken into our home in the middle of the night wearing a disguise, gloves, and boot covers. So excuse me if I’m—”
“Okay, I can see how it looks bad, but if you’d just give me a chance to—” At the sound of the front door crashing open, followed by high-pitched barking and higher-pitched shrieking, he jerked his gaze from Shay's shadow to the space behind her. Within seconds, a small blur of fur barreled toward him and was quickly surpassed by a blonde in fluorescent pink.
“I’ve got him! I’ve got him, Shaybae!” the blonde screamed just before she tackled Michael to the ground.
* * *
Shay was just about to pull Cherry and Roxy off Michael when she heard the familiar slide of a chamber. “Drop your gun and get them off Charlie. Get them off him now!” yelled a young girl.
Slowly lifting her arms, the gun still in her hand, Shay said, “Calm down. That’s not Charlie.”
Inching her way around, Shay came face-to-face with a double-barrel shotgun in the shaking hands of a teenager. About five-three and ten pounds too skinny, the young girl looked to be seventeen. She had long, dark hair with a gold stud in her nose, and she was doing her best at playing it tough despite her ashen face and the tremor in her voice. It didn’t mean she was any less of a threat. A gun in the hands of someone who was both angry and afraid…
If Shay got out of this alive and found her uncle, she planned to have a word with him not only about dead bolts but also about gun safety. “Put my uncle’s gun down.” She saw a flicker of confusion cross the young girl’s face. “I’d only know that’s Charlie’s gun if I was his niece, so trust me”—she nodded at the tangle of bodies on the floor—“that is not my uncle.”
“You know, you could have said that before your friend and your dog attacked me,” Michael said, his voice gruff with irritation.
She glanced over her shoulder at Cherry’s gasp. Her friend pushed off Michael’s chest to sit up and straddle him. “I know that voice! It’s you, Agent Panty-Melting Gallagher.”
“Cherry, there’s a kid here, so—”
Her entire focus on Michael, Cherry waved off Shay without turning. “No offense, but you sound a lot hotter than you look. Younger too.”
“Shay.” Ignoring Cherry, Michael lifted his chin, presumably at the young girl behind her.
She saw why as soon as she turned back to the teenager. Shay caught the minute movement of the barrel and her finger. One twitch and she’d blow off the back of Cherry’s head.
“What do you mean, agent? What kind of agent?” the girl asked, sounding panicked.
Shay stored the kid’s reaction for later. “This is your last warning. Put the gun down. Now.”
Her bottom lip quivering, the teenager wasn’t quite able to pull off a cocky smile. Still, Shay gave her points for trying.
“Yeah, what are you going to—” the kid began.
Shay stepped in, grabbed the barrel, and aimed it at the ceiling, at the same time hooking her fingers around the young girl’s and removing them from the trigger. Once she got the gun away from her, Shay laid her free hand on the kid’s shoulder, holding her firmly in place. “Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to hurt—” The sound of a child’s sob jerked her attention from the teenager.
“Teddy! Where are you, Teddy?”
The girl wrenched away from Shay, turning to run toward the back of the house. “I told you not to follow me, Gabby.”
Shay found the teenager she assumed must be Teddy kneeling on the kitchen floor in front of a
little girl of about five who wore only an oversized black T-shirt, her round face tearstained beneath a mop of curly, dark hair. The sliding door was open, evidence indicating that this was how Michael had gotten inside, and then the girls. He had some major explaining to do.
“Okay, take it easy, Roxy. I don’t want you to get glass in your paws. Just give me a sec, Cherry. I’ll help you next.” Michael’s deep and smooth voice came from the back hall.
Shay rolled her eyes as she flipped the light switch. Did he always have to be so damn polite and chivalrous? It irritated her to no end. Even more annoying was that she noticed. She reminded herself of all the reasons she had to distrust and dislike him.
She refocused on the girls on the floor. “Do you live next door in Hattie West’s house?”
Gabby buried her face in Teddy’s shoulder. “She was my great-grandmother,” the teenager said, watching Shay through suspicious, pale blue eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss. I didn’t know she died.” Unless the years had changed her for the better, Shay remembered Hattie as a bitter old woman who had no use for children, so she wasn’t surprised to see Teddy raise a negligent shoulder in response to Shay’s offer of sympathy. “Have you lived there long?”
“A couple months,” Teddy said, coming to her feet. Like Shay, the teenager seemed to favor the black-on-black look—jeans, hoodie, and sneakers.
“Why don’t you let me get a blanket for your sister? She is your sister, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, what did you think? She’s my kid?”
“No…Okay, so maybe I did. It does happen, you know. Just give me a minute, and I’ll walk you guys back—”
“No, we’re good.” Her eyes skittered past Shay and went wide.
Michael walked into the kitchen with a blanket in one hand and Roxy in the other. She winced at the sight of his black eye, wondering if Cherry or Roxy had landed the blow. Despite the black eye and without his fake gray beard and silver-streaked bushy eyebrows, he was as drool-worthy as Shay remembered. A black knitted hat covered most of his hair that no doubt was just as thick and lustrous as she remembered. Her fingers itched to rip the hat off his head and check for herself.
