Interrupted Lullaby

by Dana R. Lynn

  “Understood, Chief. But I would suggest we don’t want to let her on her own just yet.”

  A fierce scowl on his face, Chief Kennedy leveled a flat stare on her. She sat straighter and tried her best not to glare back. She wanted him on her side, but she hated feeling as if she were being judged. All she wanted was her life back. And to get that, she needed this man’s assistance.

  After a few tense moments, Chief Kennedy nodded, although clearly not convinced.

  “I’ll agree that Ms. Slade needs to be kept in the loop, and because someone is obviously after her, she needs to be protected.”

  She released her breath. It was going to work out.

  “How deep do you think Dennis was, sir?” Dan shifted a stress ball from one hand to the other. Maggie doubted he even knew what he was doing. His brows were drawn together as he considered the situation.

  “I don’t think Dennis was a key player. He’s been working here for eight years. The information I found on Phillip Nelson indicates that he was only in the area for about five.”

  Her mind reeled at the way these people casually spoke about Phillip. They were focused on the job at hand. She understood that.

  “Maggie, we don’t mean to be insensitive,” Dan murmured.

  She startled. Her hurt must have shown on her face.

  “He’s right, Ms. Slade,” Chief Kennedy agreed. “But we have to be objective if we are to find who is after you and help you get back to your normal life.”

  Okay, she was definitely on board with that.

  “All righty, then.” Chief Kennedy rubbed his hands together, then reached for the phone. “You two need to visit the prison in Vegas, while Jace and I—”

  Maggie interrupted him. “Sir, before we get too far ahead, when will I be able to contact my mother? I need to check on my children.”

  Silence met her question. Realizing she was drumming her fingers against her thigh, she forced herself to relax. At least on the outside. Inside, her stomach muscles cramped, and her heart was thudding. Oh, please. I just need to know how my babies are doing. A light hand brushed her shoulder. Then it was gone. Dan.

  “Mags, I wish you could contact her—for your peace of mind, if nothing else.”

  “But why can’t I—”

  “Shh.” She glared at him. Arrogant man, telling her to shush. But the gentle expression in his eyes melted some of her anger. He truly cares, she marveled. “They are with two officers and their grandmother. We have no idea who is orchestrating any of this. Until we do, they are safer if we don’t contact them. You know I’m right, don’t you?”

  “Argh!” she yelled. The three men stared at her, wide-eyed. “Aye, I know you are right. But I’m not likin’ it at all, and that’s a fact.” She crossed her arms over her chest and slumped in her seat. Part of her was embarrassed to be acting so childishly. But mostly she was so frustrated she felt she could blow at any second.

  A chuckle to her left caught her off guard. Shifting on her chair, she glared at Dan, incensed that he seemed to find her situation amusing.

  Raising his hands to halt her fury, he shook his head and got himself back under control.

  “I’m sorry, Maggie. I’m not laughing at your situation. Honestly, I’m not. I’m a little punchy right now.”

  She continued to stare him down, unimpressed.

  He shrugged. “Your accent gets really strong when you’re emotional. Did you know that?”

  Blinking, she gawked at him. “Aye, so I have heard.”

  She blew out a quick breath, sending her bangs flying upward. There was a dull ache inside her chest. She had never been so far from her children. They were her life. The entire reason she had been able to keep going for so long. She hated being separated from them, but she knew that until this impossible situation was resolved, she couldn’t return to them. At least she knew that if something happened to her, her mother would take care of them. Sorrow crept into her heart. She had blamed her mother for so long. But now she understood that her mother had had no control over what had happened to her. If Anna had known what would happen to Maggie, she would have sacrificed anything to stop it. Having kids of her own helped Maggie finally understand and forgive. But she had wasted so much time. She hoped with all her heart she would have the chance to make amends for her stubbornness.

  * * *

  Maggie’s mobile face twisted with one volatile emotion after another. Dan wished he could give her what she wanted. He couldn’t imagine what she was suffering, being apart from her kids, not knowing for sure what was happening. But he knew they needed to move, keep ahead of whoever wanted her dead.

  “How ’bout we get some plane tickets to Vegas?”

  The next hour was a blur. Paul dealt with the aftermath of the shooting spree in the basement. Somehow, the bloodhounds, meaning the press, had caught wind of something going down at the police station. The three major news stations had trucks and camera crews set up right outside. The newspapers had photographers and journalists on hand, as well. Paul was at his urbane best, deflecting questions that were too close, answering those he could with dignity and charm. He would not give out the name of the shooter or the officer who had taken him down.

  An hour later they were on a flight from Erie to Pittsburgh, where they would catch a second plane to Vegas. They were fortunate. The layover time was relatively short. Actually, it was nonexistent. They had to walk as fast as they could to board the second plane before the doors closed. They were in relatively secluded seats.

  Maggie sighed. “I wonder if we’re being followed now.”

  “Paul bought us a little time,” Dan murmured to Maggie. He kept his voice low, just in case. She raised a brow in question. “Whoever is calling the shots here will probably guess that Dennis was the shooter. That can’t be helped. Although the guy behind all this seems to have a lot of people willing to kill for him, I am really praying he is running out of resources. After all, he’s lost the man who attacked you in your house, the men in the car who blew up the gas station and now Dennis.”

  “Is that just a figure of speech?”

  “Huh? What do you mean?” Dan’s heart lurched as he peered into Maggie’s shadowed face. It was more than strain from the recent events. He could almost feel a struggle going on inside her.

  She slumped back in her seat, a bleak look on her face. She turned her head toward him, her mouth trembling. He was struck by the memory of a young girl he had known briefly in Afghanistan. He had never even asked her name. But her large eyes, so empty and bewildered, had haunted him these past three years. Except Maggie’s eyes weren’t empty, he reminded himself. She still had her children to go back to, to give her something to live for. He would do all he could to see that she returned to them. And then he would walk away. He had to. He steeled himself against any foolish dreams that wanted to take root and focused on his mission.

  “Is what a figure of speech?” he asked her, more to distract himself from his musings than anything else.

  “You said you were praying the man who wants to kill me runs out of resources,” she explained. “Are you really praying about that, even when you are in danger?”

  “Especially when I’m in danger.”

  She looked lost and he struggled for the right words. How do you explain faith?

  “I’m not going to lie and say that I have always prayed. I was a foster kid in Pittsburgh. By the time I was fifteen I’d been in four different homes, two of which were abusive. I had a chip on my shoulder the size of Texas, and I couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble. When I was about sixteen, I had my first run-in with the law. I ended up in Chief Garraway’s office. She looked right at me and told me straight-out I could either plan on a life of crime, which would end with me in jail, or I could get my head on straight and make something of my life. I don’t know how to e
xplain how much she impressed me. She believed in me. And she was the first person I’d ever known who was a Christian, and she inspired me to find my own faith. Well, it wasn’t easy, but I got myself straightened out, and I joined the military. That’s when I decided to be a cop. I was fortunate to be able to find a job in Chief Garraway’s department.”

  “I thought you served two tours of duty.” Her voice was soft, unsure.

  He closed his eyes briefly and bowed his head. “Yeah. My unit got called back. I can tell you the faith I developed because of Chief Garraway was the only thing that kept me sane while I was in Afghanistan. I got sent home after I was injured on a mission.” Dan pressed his lips together tightly. He wanted her to understand. He wanted her to know that faith was a good thing. But there were things from his past he just wasn’t ready to share yet. And maybe he never would be.

  Maggie lifted her head off her seat and leaned forward, her eyes filled with compassion. She raised one trembling hand and laid it on his cheek. It was a gesture of affection, but even more than that it was a gesture of one who recognized suffering all too well.

  “I used to have faith,” she whispered. Dan leaned forward just a little bit in order to hear her better. “Growing up my family never had much. You know I was born in Ireland?”

  Dan held his breath, feeling he was on the brink of discovering what made her tick. He was filled with the sense that what he said or did in the next few moments would impact Maggie’s faith, or lack thereof, for the rest of her life. It’s a very frightening feeling to know you could affect somebody’s soul that much.

  “My mom and I, we lived with my grandmother. When I was about, oh, I don’t know, five or six, we were able to move to the States. I never really understood how we had the money to do that. We had always been poor. And when we arrived in the States, we were still poor. My mom worked two jobs, but she always had time for me.”

  Maggie’s eyes grew distant, clouded over with the force of her memories. Her accent grew stronger, letting him know better than words that her emotions were running high. “Even though we were poor, we were happy. I remember going to church every week with my grandmother, and she would pray with me whenever my mother wasn’t home. She died when I was ten. I was so desperately sad. But I knew, I just knew that I would see her again in heaven. I never doubted that. Until my mom married.”

  A chill traveled up Dan’s spine. Some instinct warned him that he wasn’t going to like what he heard next. He also knew that this was not a story Maggie told to many people. His fingers curled into fists as he waited.

  “At first, I was happy she married. Some of the kids at school had started to pick on me, bully me. I talked different. I wore the same clothes again and again because we couldn’t afford more. My stepfather was a really nice guy. And I used to confide in him. Until I was twelve. My mom had taken a new job and she worked third shift. Then he started getting really creepy, following me around, making comments about how pretty and grown-up I was. It freaked me out. I started to avoid him, but he was always there. I even woke up one night to find him sitting beside my bed, just watching me.” She shuddered. Her head bent forward and her hair swung to hide her face like a dark curtain. He saw the way her shoulders hunched, and anger started to burn in his gut. She was ashamed, even though she was the one who had been taken advantage of. She had been a child and had done nothing wrong.

  “Mags, you don’t have to—” Dan started to interrupt her. She shook her head.

  “I need to get this out of my system, Dan. It’s poison. And you are the only person I trust enough to tell.”

  A tremor shook him. She trusted him. Him.

  “I don’t know what would have happened. He was killed in a car accident two weeks later. It devastated my mom. But I was so relieved. I had been so scared, and then he was gone.”

  “Maggie, did you ever tell your mom?”

  She rocked in her seat, her arms tight around her stomach. She shook her head, but a low sob erupted from her mouth. He wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but was afraid to cause her to recoil. Who knew how fragile she was right now?

  “I didn’t need to. My mom found pictures. He had been taking pictures of me when I thought I was alone. Sharing them with his friends.”

  His throat burned as bile hit it. He swallowed, keeping himself still with an effort. “One of his friends must have left the pictures out. Because two months later, a boy at school was passing them around.”

  He couldn’t take it anymore. With an exclamation, he reached over and hauled her trembling form into his arms, rocking her as he would a child. She resisted at first, her body stiff. Then she slumped against him. A drop splashed on his hand. With care, he wiped her tears off her cheeks.

  “I had to leave school. Parents started calling, complaining that their children had to be exposed to someone like me,” she continued, her voice thick, hitching every few words. “We changed our phone number because we were getting crank calls. I was homeschooled until high school. By then we lived in a different district, and no one knew me. But I was always scared someone would point me out. I kept to myself. And I didn’t pray anymore. How could God have let that happen?”

  Before he could respond, the flight attendant came on the intercom. The plane was starting its descent. Maggie pulled away to sit all the way against the back of her seat, her hands gripping her armrests. Dan saw her gulp. Poor Mags. She hadn’t admitted she was terrified of flying. But it was written in every line of her body. He took her hand in his and gripped it. Then grunted. She probably didn’t even realize how hard she was squeezing his hand. Well, if it made her feel better, he would let her—even though he wouldn’t be surprised if she left a bruise.

  He couldn’t leave her last question completely unanswered, though. He leaned close to her ear.

  “Maggie?”

  “What?” He nearly smiled at her strangled tone.

  “God did step in. He took your stepfather out of the equation before he could physically harm you, and He gave you a mother who took action to protect you in every way she could.”

  “Maybe. But there was one thing she never did, and I held it against her for years because I didn’t understand.”

  Dan frowned. “What else could she have done, Mags?”

  She was prevented from answering when the captain’s voice echoed over the intercom, thanking them for flying with them. In minutes, they were disembarking, merging with the other passengers. Dan’s senses went on high alert. As unlikely as it was, every cell in his body was attuned to any sign they were being followed. He hurried Maggie along, anxious to get her out of the open.

  He was unable to relax until they were tucked inside a taxi, putting distance between themselves and the airport.

  Could he bring up the topic of Maggie’s stepfather again? It didn’t seem like a good idea. Maggie probably wouldn’t want to discuss him in the back of the cab.

  “Did you know my father is Senator Travis?”

  Startled, he blinked at her.

  “Um, yeah. It came up while we were trying to find out who was after Melanie.”

  She gave a brisk nod. “He gave my mom money for her silence about their sham of a marriage. Enough to help us come to the States. So she wouldn’t talk—to the press or to anyone. She never even told me he was my father. I had to find out on my own. Can you imagine?”

  “When did you put it all together?”

  “I found out about the senator around the time of the trial while looking through some files my mom had asked me to help her organize. About a year and a half after the trial ended, I found out that I had several half sisters. I was shocked to realize that Sylvie had been one of them.”

  “I can’t even imagine how you felt,” he said gently.

  She grimaced. “At the time, I was furious. Not only about the secrets, but also because
I felt he got off easy while we were struggling.”

  The taxi pulled up to the prison. Dan stepped out and paid the driver. They watched the taxi pull away. He turned back to Maggie.

  “He might seem to have gotten off easy, Mags, but in the end he’s the one who lost out. He missed getting to know you. And he probably has no idea he’s a grandfather. Gotta feel sorry for a man like that. After all, who can say they’ve really lived when they haven’t had their hair pulled by Siobhan?”

  He was hoping to make her smile, but instead she laughed out loud. Her eyes, which had seemed so empty and despairing moments before, filled once more with humor and light.

  Maggie might be struggling to believe in God, but as far as Dan was concerned, that laugh and the warmth it brought back to her face was nothing short of an answered prayer.

  EIGHT

  Dan leaned back in his chair, looking around the room with a casualness he was far from feeling. The only sound in the room was the steady tapping of Maggie’s feet on the bare floor as they waited for the inmate to be brought in.

  Nothing about this room was comfortable. The chairs were hard and bolted to the floor. The walls were barren, except for warnings plastered against them. Tilting his head up, Dan read, “Please keep hands in plain sight at all times.” Office-like cubicles with phones broke up the long row of the counter, while the bulletproof glass added an extra touch of menace.

  The door opened and a middle-aged man stepped through. Robert Hutchins. His shoulders were stooped slightly, and his faded brown hair was thinning on top. His hands were cuffed together. His face fell when he caught sight of Maggie, and a hopelessness entered his expression. This didn’t look like a hardened criminal, but rather like a man beaten down by life.

  He shuffled over to a stool on his side of the glass and sat, reaching for a phone. Both Maggie and Dan copied his movement so they could converse.

  “Malcolm’s dead, isn’t he?” The question shot out of the man across from them. Dan raised his eyebrows. Maggie’s mouth fell open. She pulled the phone away from her ear and frowned at it. As she replaced it against her ear, she narrowed her eyes at him.