by Victoria Sue
“She played with Augusta’s kids a few times,” Deacon replied. “I’d been looking at day care for when I start working where Augusta sends hers, but that’s too far from here.” He blushed. “Not that I’ll be here in a month, but I’ll have to see where we live.”
With me. But Maverick didn’t say the words out loud. Despite what he had thought earlier. It was far too soon to voice them.
Chapter Fifteen
THE BED was cold. Deacon knew why of course before he’d even opened his eyes. He was alone. That thought made him start—Molly—and he hadn’t even taken another breath before his eyes focused on a sight that made his heart seem suddenly too big for his chest.
They must have all fallen asleep. He remembered thinking he was going to have to lift Molly out of Maverick’s arms when she finished her milk, and he didn’t remember anything after that. Molly was still asleep. She looked impossibly tiny cradled as she was in Maverick’s arms. He had raised the foot support on the chair and tilted the whole thing back so she was snug and safe.
Jealous of a two-year-old? Am I? Deacon sighed and snuggled into the comforter, prepared to laze for another minute. Maverick amazed him. He’d coped with everything life had flung his way, and here he was, prepared to step up again. Deacon knew Maverick would have made a joke of that expression. He’d heard him say to Jamie that at least no one could accuse him of having two left feet anymore, but he hadn’t said it wanting pity or attention. He’d opened his heart and his arms to them both, and Deacon hoped like hell when this mess was done, Mav didn’t decide they were too much trouble and they— They what? Had to move? Or could they stay? Not with Jamie obviously, but he was hoping—
“I can hear you thinking from over here,” Maverick mused, and Deacon sat up.
“You had your eyes closed,” he accused. “There’s no way you could see me.”
“I said I heard you.” Molly stirred, and Maverick dropped a kiss on her forehead just as her eyes opened. “Morning, munchkin. Did you sleep okay?”
Molly started before she woke properly, and her eyes sought out Deacon, but then she yawned and snuggled back into Maverick. Maverick looked over at Deacon. “How about we get Uncle Danny to run you a bath, huh?”
Deacon yawned and shook his head. “She normally has a bath at night. It settles her.”
“Uh-huh,” Maverick pronounced solemnly. “You might want to change it up this morning.” And he opened the blanket he’d covered her with to show the wet stain on his pants.
Deacon scrambled out of bed. Oh my God. He was going to die. He had completely forgotten to put her Pull-Ups on, and Molly had peed on Mav. “I’ll take her.”
But Maverick just smiled slowly. “How about you run a bath. I don’t think it’s gonna get any worse for the next minute or so.” He squinted up at Deacon. “Umm, it isn’t, right?”
Deacon shook his head violently. “She’s usually dry during the day, which is early anyway. I always use Pull-Ups on at night.” Then he chuckled and seemed to relax. “I guess it could be worse.” He smiled ruefully.
Maverick grinned. “You’ve had a rough couple of days. Go run the bath. I’ve had plenty worse.”
Deacon ran into the bathroom and found some bubble bath, which he squirted liberally into the running water. In a few minutes, he was back, and Maverick was discussing the merits of chocolate chip pancakes versus ones with bananas.
“Arms up,” Mav instructed Molly so Deacon could get her T-shirt off her. The matching skirt had been ditched yesterday. Molly wrinkled her nose when she realized she was wet, but Deacon was quick, and she was soon playing in the bath. He heard the shower come on in Melanie’s room and wondered how Maverick was managing. It couldn’t be easy, and while he had seen there was a seat added to this shower, he didn’t think for one minute there would be in any of the others. There definitely wasn’t one in the downstairs, which surprised him, but then, maybe Jamie had been trying to encourage Mav not to just stay downstairs.
He heard the knock at the bathroom door and looked up to see Jamie smiling and balancing on her crutches. “Good morning, Molly.” Molly giggled and squirted water out of the empty shampoo bottle. Jamie turned to Deacon. “I’m going to get the elixir of life brewed and be totally graceful and go down the stairs on my bottom.”
Molly seemed to notice the crutches for the first time. “Did you get an owie? Uncle Mav got a new one.”
Jamie grinned. “I’m not that cool.”
Deacon held out a warm towel and helped Molly stand. “Pancakes?” she asked brightly, and Deacon nodded.
“Geraldine from next door is dropping off the booster seat they use for her grandson until you get a new one,” Jamie said as she limped out of the bathroom.
Deacon’s throat tightened. He’d never had complete strangers helping him, and he buried his head in the towel he was wrapping Molly up in. Molly flung her arms around him. “Pancakes,” she demanded.
Deacon had no words, but he returned her hug just as fiercely.
The pancakes were a success. By the time Deacon had found something in the bag Jamie had left on the bed that would fit Molly, brushed her hair, and helped her brush her teeth, Maverick had cooked enough pancakes to feed an army. They were tucking in when Detective Phan arrived along with Loretta, who they had seen yesterday.
Deacon and Maverick left Jamie, Loretta, and Molly in the kitchen to finish up, and they all took their coffees into the living room.
“What is it?” Deacon immediately asked the second Phan had closed the door.
“We were about to arrest and charge Jared Upchurch with Rachel’s murder.”
“Jimmy?” Deacon said in astonishment. “Are you sure?”
Phan nodded. “Forensics are very damning. He definitely went near her body.”
“And you believe he did it?” Maverick asked doubtfully.
“Honestly? We’re not completely sure. I’m even less sure he is competent to stand trial if we get that far, but charging him will ensure he is away from the public. His only relative—an elderly father—died last year. He never graduated high school, and his father worked as chauffeur for the couple who owned the house prior to Mr. and Mrs. Fellhouse.”
“How is my mom?” Deacon asked politely, and Maverick glanced his way. It had been the first time he had mentioned her.
“I understand her husband has admitted her to a private clinic, and the doctors have said she isn’t ready to be interviewed.”
Deacon nodded and didn’t ask anything else about her. “Were?” Deacon said. “You said you were going to charge Jimmy. Does that mean you just haven’t done it yet or that you have doubts?”
“How much contact have you had with your stepfather?” Phan parried the question.
“Percy?” Deacon asked in surprise. “Barely any, to be honest. He was always absent when I saw Molly except at the trial. Why?”
“Because we got a call from a desk sergeant an hour ago who received a call from a communications dispatcher who recognized the address for the 911 call. Apparently Gemma Pierce, the dispatcher, was the secretary who was paid off to drop the sexual assault claim about Percy.”
“She was?” Maverick was stunned.
“Technically she was offered a full college scholarship sponsored by Fellhouse and Hanks, Percy’s law firm, except she had never applied for one in the first place.”
“Very clever,” Maverick murmured.
“And we have a problem with his alibi at the time of the murder.”
“Percy’s?” Deacon asked.
“Yes,” Phan confirmed. “Apparently he left your mom to get the passport and said he had other errands and that he would be back for them. He says he did some shopping, but he has no receipts and doesn’t seem to remember any specifics that we can confirm with CCTV. This is a stretch, but if he had assaulted Rachel and she threatened to tell, your current problems would be an excellent smokescreen.”
“But he had nothing to do with the other murders.”
/> “I doubt it,” Phan agreed. “But we only have you as the connection so far. There is nothing to indicate there is any similarity between the murders. It could be convenience. The housekeeper tells us Mr. Fellhouse knew Jared and likely knew about his fixation with you.”
“So we might be back to one person being responsible for Jones and Sara Jeffries and another for Rachel?” Maverick asked.
“Yes, and we need to ask your permission to speak to Molly,” Phan asked. “We know she wasn’t present, but she spent a lot of time with Rachel, and the housekeeper still thinks there was a boyfriend, which could either be Mr. Fellhouse or someone else entirely.”
Deacon shot Maverick a worried glance.
“We wouldn’t take her to the station or even talk to her ourselves. You would take her to the child advocacy center where trained professionals would ask her questions. You can watch from behind a screen. You’re just not allowed to interact with her during questioning.”
“When?”
“Today, if at all possible. We can’t hold Mr. Upchurch without making a decision for much longer.”
Deacon looked at Maverick. “I think Molly would be okay.” And this sounded important.
“We were actually wanting to pick up my truck but weren’t sure about leaving the house.” Maverick glanced at Phan. “Maybe we can do both together?”
“I know how hard this is.” Phan sympathized. “And I know you can’t just stop living, but there is still the real risk that someone is threatening you, even if Rachel’s murder has nothing to do with it. We’re still no further forward on either Jones or Ms. Jeffries.”
Stop living? Some days it didn’t feel as if Deacon had been living for weeks.
“I can get you a ride there.”
“I’m not leaving the house with a police escort,” Maverick said with a flash of amusement. “And I’m also not thrilled about Jamie being on her own.”
“Okay, how about I drop you off to get your truck, the cops stay here, and I follow you to the advocacy center?”
Maverick nodded and looked at Deacon for confirmation. “Does that sound okay to you?”
Deacon agreed. He was getting a little stir-crazy, and while he would never put Molly at risk, they had to take her out anyway, and one trip with Detective Phan as backup sounded very reasonable.
MOLLY WAS excited, and Maverick said after they got his truck, they might just have to stop for a strawberry milkshake. Molly wrinkled her nose.
“You don’t like strawberry milkshakes?” Maverick asked, pretending to be horrified. “I’m gonna have to cancel your cool-kid card.”
But Deacon grinned, knowing what was coming.
“Berry for girls. Want chocolate,” Molly pronounced, then held both arms up for Maverick to pick her up. Deacon cackled at Maverick’s expression.
“She picked that little gem up from Tony, Augusta’s eldest. I was hoping she might forget, but I think children are like elephants.”
Maverick bent and solemnly picked her up, then kissed her cheek, and Deacon saw his expression turn serious. Maybe he’s more worried about going out than I thought? Not that Deacon blamed him. It was a wonder he wasn’t hiding under the bed himself. It was Maverick, he decided. The air of safety. The strong capability. It lulled him into thinking everything was okay, which in some ways was more dangerous than the threat itself. Deacon took a step to the door after Phan and turned back, wondering why Maverick wasn’t following him. Maverick kissed Molly again and then held her out to Deacon. “Here you go, munchkin.” But Molly stubbornly refused to let him go.
A flash of something raw almost passed over Maverick. Sore, like an exposed nerve, and accompanying frustration, and Deacon immediately understood. Maverick wasn’t confident carrying Molly while he walked, and Deacon cursed himself for putting him in that situation. Deacon pretended to cry and sniffed, saying he needed a Molly cuddle at which Molly held her arms out, and Deacon took her. He sent a silent apology to Maverick, but Maverick wasn’t looking, and Deacon didn’t know what to say.
Maverick was quiet on the way to the dealership but seemed to shake it off between Molly’s chatter and the sight of his gleaming brand-new truck waiting for him when they pulled up. Phan stayed in the car while they all got out and spoke to an eager Philip Mathewson, who immediately gave them a child safety seat as a complimentary gift.
Deacon decided it would be wise to wait with the detective while Philip made sure Maverick was comfortable with the controls and knew what he was doing.
Deacon had watched Maverick drive around the back lot with Philip before they had disappeared down the road. When Maverick came back he moved with a confidence Deacon hadn’t seen on him before. Philip showed them how to work the DVD in the back and ran to his own car to get a copy of Mulan that he kept in there for his sister’s little girl so Molly had something to watch.
Molly was charmed.
Deacon put the video on for Molly and firmly got in the passenger side. Maverick ran his gaze over Deacon. “I would understand if you wanted to ride with Phan.”
“If I didn’t think you knew what you were doing, I would never have gotten in the car with you while you were carrying a gun. I’m confident you know what to do to keep us safe.”
Maverick’s gaze shot up. “I have a conceal carry permit,” he said defensively.
Deacon nodded. “I never doubted you would have.”
Maverick was different, Deacon decided, as they followed Phan to the advocacy center. He never took his eyes off the road for a second, but he moved confidently and smoothly.
A bit like he had been in bed. No, very much like he had been in bed, and Deacon moved a little to give himself room. Maverick noticed and glanced over. “You okay?”
And because Deacon didn’t want Maverick to think this was about his driving, he put a hand on his knee. “I was just wishing we had some alone time,” he said boldly, realizing it was true. Maverick’s lips quirked a little as he signaled and pulled in behind Phan’s Saab.
Molly looked up when they stopped. “Milkshake?”
Deacon turned in his seat, and Mav paused the film. “We need to go talk to a nice lady for a few minutes, and then it’s milkshake time.”
Molly nodded but gripped Deacon tightly and didn’t want to walk into the center. Once she got inside—even though she was shy at first—she soon warmed to Callie Ramirez, who was a forensic interviewer and family advocate. Molly played with the dolls and the cars for a long time while Callie and Deacon chatted about lots of inconsequential things, and then Callie asked Molly if she would stay with her while Deacon went to get them all some more juice. It was Deacon’s signal to leave, and he got up quietly and took the mugs with him.
By the time he got behind the screen, he was shaking so hard Maverick had to take the mugs off him. Phan looked sympathetic. “I know it’s hard, but they’re good.”
“I looked them up,” Deacon confessed, fixing Phan with a hard stare. “This place is usually used for victims of child abuse.”
Maverick shot a glance at Phan. That had never occurred to him, even with what they had said about Fellhouse.
Phan shook his head. “All we believe here is that there is a chance Molly saw if Rachel met a boyfriend. We have absolutely no reason to think you have anything to worry about, but there are people we can see to put your mind at rest.”
Deacon let out a long breath. He’d never thought it, to be honest, but this place had him questioning everything. They listened while Callie carried on talking to Molly, and they both got the crayons out. Callie steered the conversation around to friends and who Molly liked to play with. In the end, Callie didn’t have to do a lot of work. It was clear that the questions were open-ended and that Molly was given lots of opportunities to talk. Molly mentioned the games she played with Rachel, and that she hated having to take a nap, and Rachel would let her color and read stories to her.
Molly was asked if she had ever met any of Rachel’s friends, and she told Cal
lie about Jimmy, who brought Rachel flowers. Phan made notes intently as Molly described the pink flowers.
Then Callie asked if Rachel had ever driven a car when they went out, and Molly nodded and confirmed the red color of her grandma’s, which Rachel sometimes drove. She was asked if Rachel ever took Molly to meet any friends, and she launched into an account of a playdate.
Then out of the blue, Molly asked where Rachel was. Callie said she didn’t know, and what did Molly think. Molly said she thought maybe Rachel had gone to live with her friend.
It took another ten minutes and two drawings before Callie had got Molly to describe Rachel’s other friend. The man who Molly had only seen driving away in a black car, the same color of the cat that lived next to her grandma’s. The man who Rachel had told Molly was a secret.
The man who had just become a likely suspect for the murder of Rachel Mackenzie, and—Deacon couldn’t help wondering—Emmanuel Jones and Sara Jeffries.
“I THINK it’s milkshake time,” Maverick pronounced when Callie finished the session after it became clear Molly was getting bored and they weren’t going to get any more information from her. Deacon couldn’t help but be glad Molly hadn’t seen the man’s face. It would be far too much pressure for a description, and he had seen Phan pause when the black car was mentioned.
Was it the same black Charger that had been following him? Black was a common color, and all Maverick would say was he didn’t like coincidences. Phan didn’t, or perhaps couldn’t, say anything.
Maverick assured Phan they would return straight home and after confirming the route, left the detective at the center. Maverick drove home, and soon Molly was engrossed in Mulan again. Deacon couldn’t help obsessively checking his mirrors for the black car. They were about fifteen minutes from home when Molly suddenly piped up, “I need to pee.”
“Oh hell,” Deacon muttered.
“We’re a good fifteen minutes away.”
“She won’t last that long.” He spotted a big Target superstore up ahead. “How about if we go in there?”
