The Detective's Secret Daughter

by Rachelle Mccalla

  When he raised his head again, he felt a greater sense of peace.

  And he got a happy surprise when Paige gave him a hug after the service. “What’s that for?” he asked, touched by her gesture.

  Paige shrugged. “You’re nice,” she declared simply, and scampered away to her blushing mother.

  Waving goodbye, Owen headed home to dress for work. His father expected him at the police station when his shift began at two. And Owen realized that would be the best place for him. He needed to get to work processing the evidence Keira and Nick had gathered. Because ultimately, the only way he was going to keep Victoria and Paige safe was by catching whoever was behind the break-ins.

  Arriving plenty early for his shift, Owen was surprised to find Keira already at work on the evidence. His little sister scowled at the computer screen and punched a few more buttons.

  “You’re here early.”

  “So are you.” More scowling.

  “Computer disagreeing with you?”

  “Yes. Before you give me any flak about being the rookie, I want you to try this for yourself.” Keira hopped out of her chair and motioned for him to take a turn at the machine.

  “What is it?”

  “I entered the fingerprints we took from the walls at the Sugar Plum yesterday. They’re coming up with a perfect match on the internal system.”

  “That means they belong to a local person whose fingerprints are already in the system. That’s good news. We finally have our perp. So, why are you scowling?”

  “Click to see the match.”

  Owen hit the button.

  File not found.

  “What?” Owen clicked the button again. “That can’t be right.”

  “I’ve tried going at it ten different ways, last night and again this afternoon. The computer recognizes that the fingerprints belong to someone in the internal system, but it can’t find the file.”

  “Why not?”

  Keira blew out a long breath. “It’s gone.”

  While the bright sun melted the fresh snow, a steady stream of customers filled the Sugar Plum. To Victoria’s immense relief, many of them were interested in the corned beef and cabbage special they’d missed out on the day before. Business slowed midafternoon just long enough for Victoria to spend time with Paige practicing her latest voice-lesson songs at the dining room piano.

  She was just cleaning up from the supper crowd when the door bells jangled.

  Owen Fitzgerald gave her a sheepish look, almost as though he feared she might throw him out.

  Her heart plummeted, and she felt guilty about how she’d handled their conversation the evening before. There would have been a time when she’d have been over the moon if Owen had proposed to her, but she was nearly certain, given their circumstances, that such a move would only bring more pain to her, to Owen and, even more so, to Paige. And from the cautious way Owen had popped the question, she was nearly certain he knew it, too. In fact, she realized later, part of the reason she’d refused him so sharply was because his proposal had sounded more like a plan to solve their safety issue and not a declaration of love.

  Still, she needed to hear what he’d stopped by to say, and waved him back to the kitchen, where Paige sat at the counter engrossed in one of the books she’d picked out the day before. Rather than say what she needed to in front of Paige, she pulled Owen into the walk-in fridge.

  He cleared his throat as the door shut behind them. “We ran the fingerprints from yesterday’s crime scene.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  The expression on Owen’s face was part discouraged, part distressed. “Sort of. The computer identified the prints as being a perfect match with a set in our internal system.”

  “Internal system?” Victoria repeated. “What’s that?”

  “It’s the collection of all the fingerprints that have been taken locally—from anyone we’ve booked here in Fitzgerald Bay, anyone who’s applied for a job with us or any kids who’ve gone through the local school system.”

  “So the crime was committed by a local person.” Victoria absorbed the news and braced herself for the revelation she felt hanging between them. “Okay, who was it?”

  The apology in Owen’s eyes sent her heart rate rocketing.

  “Just tell me.” She braced herself. Was it someone she knew? Someone she trusted?

  “We don’t know. The file is missing.”

  “What? I thought you said it was a perfect match.”

  “It is. The fingerprints belong to someone in the FBPD system. The computer has retained the initial search capacity on the file, but the file itself is gone.”

  “Gone? Gone where?”

  Owen placed his steady hands on her shoulders, which Victoria realized were shaking. She forced herself to stop trembling and to look into his eyes.

  “When Nick and Keira took the prints, they wondered why anyone would be foolish enough to leave such clear evidence behind. The only answer we can devise is that whoever was behind this crime had already removed their file from the system. They left their fingerprints because they knew they couldn’t be traced back to them. Ultimately, whoever did this thinks they’re above the law.”

  His words settled over her like the chill of the fridge.

  She swallowed back a lump of fear and forced her teeth to stop chattering. “They’re not afraid of being caught?”

  She had hardly spoken when the radio buzzed on Owen’s belt. “I need to get back to work,” he murmured, before quickly responding to the call.

  Victoria nodded and left him to the privacy of the walk-in fridge. Paige looked up from her reading and smiled. “You and Owen like to go in the refrigerator together.”

  Though Paige’s words sounded like an innocent observation, Victoria couldn’t help blushing, and struggled to think of a response.

  Fortunately, Owen emerged from the fridge a second later, distracting Paige.

  “I need to get back to work. All those tourists in town…” He threw his hands up in the air and left his sentence unfinished, retreating with a wave. “I’ll see you ladies later.”

  Paige waved back until the front door bells jangled after Owen. Then the girl giggled. “He’s fun.”

  “Yes.” Victoria qualified her statement. “He certainly makes life interesting, doesn’t he?”

  Victoria spent the next week mulling over her discussion with Owen. Beyond the unresolved issue of how to keep Paige safe, she now found herself distracted by the growing feelings she had for him and her thoughts about his tempting, though crazy, marriage proposal.

  Over and over again, she told herself nothing good could possibly come from it. Ten years before, the Fitzgeralds had given her the strong impression that they felt she was not good enough for one of them. They were a close-knit family, and zealously protected their own. They saw her as a threat. Given the rumors Hank had spread about her, they probably feared she’d lead Owen astray.

  Though she’d tried everything she could think of to win their favor—baking them pies, cupcakes, turnovers and dozens of cinnamon rolls, none of them had ever expressed anything more than a cursory thank-you, coupled at times with a wary look, as though they suspected she had some underlying treacherous motive.

  That was before the wreck involving her father and Patrick. Whatever the white paint on her father’s truck meant, neither she nor Owen had found the source of it, nor likely would they. So it stood to reason that the Fitzgeralds would probably scorn her still, and that much more so for what they believed her father had done to their cousin. Despite the lack of alcohol in his system.

  Add to that all the horrible rumors Hank Monroe had spread since then, which it seemed everyone in town except Owen believed, and she knew she had no reason to even th
ink about Owen Fitzgerald. There was only heartache down that road.

  Too bad she couldn’t stop thinking about what it might feel like to kiss him again.

  By Saturday she was in a funk, partly because she saw no way out of the situation, partly because she knew Owen would eventually want to formalize the joint custody arrangement, whatever his assurances in the refrigerator had been, and partly because the weather was still overcast and dreary, and she’d almost forgotten what it felt like to stand in the sun.

  Owen stopped by as the trickle of lunch customers began to disperse, and Victoria bused the tables in the empty back dining room. His face held a mischievous smile. “Does Paige have plans for this afternoon?”

  She would have liked to deny it, but Victoria had to admit, “She doesn’t.”

  His smile brightened. “Charles is taking his twins to the matinee. It’s that new animated movie all the youngsters have been waiting for.”

  Victoria knew exactly which movie Owen was talking about. Paige had been talking about it, too, but since her daughter knew they were always too busy to go to the movies, Paige hadn’t even asked to go.

  She felt a wistful longing take hold of her heart. Paige would love to go to the film. “What time?”

  “We’d need to leave in half an hour or less.” He looked at her expectantly.

  Victoria didn’t know what to say. “Are you asking for my permission?”

  “I guess so.”

  “She’d be delighted to go.”

  “So, you’ll let her?”

  “Is it up to me?” Victoria dropped a few plates into the waiting gray tub with a bit of an extra clonk.

  “You’re her mother.”

  Victoria heaved the heavy tub onto the table and bit back a surprising well of emotion, unsure why their conversation affected her so much. Was it because she’d love to take her daughter to the movies herself, but she never had the time? Or was it because, deep down, she didn’t feel Owen should have to ask her permission to take Paige anywhere?

  “You’re her father. If you want to take her anywhere, it’s enough for you to just let me know where you’ll be and when you’ll be back. I trust your judgment.”

  Owen’s face brightened. “So it’s okay?”

  “It’s more than okay, Owen. I think it’s great. Paige will love going to the movies with you. Let me find her.” Victoria spun around in time to see Paige entering the room.

  “Did you just say movies?” Paige’s bright-eyed expression looked nearly the same as Owen’s.

  Victoria swallowed back a lump in her throat. She couldn’t speak, but fortunately Owen jumped in, revealing the plan to take Paige to see the movie with Charles and the twins.

  Paige was so excited, she didn’t even seem to mind that the twins were several years younger than she was. She ran for the stairs. “Let me get my jacket!”

  Owen took a step after her, but Victoria snagged his jacket and pulled him back. “Are you planning to tell her?”

  “Not without you. I thought maybe after the movie, we could come back here for supper. And then, if you get a break…” Owen shrugged, his expression hopeful.

  “Okay.” Victoria tried to breathe evenly in spite of the rising tide of emotions she felt. So far, Owen had been kind about the situation—kinder than she’d expected him to be. But she fought against the rising sense of panic from knowing that he would eventually take Paige from her for longer than a movie matinee.

  Paige fairly flew down the stairs and waved her cell phone at her mother. “I’m ready!” Owen took her hand, and with another backward wave, they were out the door.

  As she cleaned the kitchen and prepared for the evening crowd, Victoria tried to tell herself not to be jealous of Owen. Yes, Paige was thrilled to go to the movies with him. He deserved to spend time with his daughter as much as she did. But she wished her little girl would have at least paused to hug her goodbye.

  The dinner hour approached, and with each jangle of the bells on the door, Victoria found herself looking up, expecting to see Owen and Paige, and hoping for a hug from her daughter.

  Instead, customers kept arriving—not that she was about to complain. When the door clattered open again and a broad-shouldered silhouette appeared in her peripheral vision, Victoria turned toward the door with a smile, expecting a hug from Paige any moment.

  Hank Monroe entered, stomping his boots on the welcome mat.

  “What can I get for you today?” Victoria asked.

  “Can we talk?”

  With a glance at the contented customers in the dining room, Victoria decided she could spare a moment, especially since Charlotte had arrived and was already chatting up some newcomers in the back dining room.

  “Sure.” Victoria led him closer to the glass display case, out of the way of entering patrons. “What’s up?”

  “I did a little checking on those muddy fingerprints from your break-in last week. They belong to someone here in town.”

  Since she already knew that much, Victoria wondered what Hank was getting at. “Do you know who?”

  “Owen.”

  Victoria recoiled in shock, stepping backward until she came up against the pastry case. “Are you certain?”

  Hank scowled. “I can’t be certain without printing him again. But you know how it is with those Fitzgeralds. They’re covering for Charles. They’ll cover for Owen, too. I have no doubt that’s why the prints mysteriously disappeared. That’s why I came to you first. You and Owen get along all right, don’t you?”

  Victoria nodded.

  “I need you to gather his fingerprints and pass them along to me. I’ll do the rest.”

  Victoria sucked in a slow breath and tried to think. “But why would Owen do this?”

  “To get back at you. Your dad killed his cousin, remember? Maybe he doesn’t want you in town anymore.”

  Victoria tried to wrap her mind around what Hank was saying, but it didn’t make any sense. The fingerprints couldn’t belong to Owen. What was Hank up to?

  “I want to help you catch him.” Hank’s features softened. “All I need you to do is have Owen leave his fingerprints on something—a drinking glass, a door, anything, as long as you get a decent set of clear prints. Then call me right away. I’ll do the rest.”

  “But I—”

  The hand on her shoulder squeezed uncomfortably tight. “You want it to end, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. But—”

  There was no way Owen was guilty of anything.

  “As soon as Owen’s in jail, I guarantee, all your troubles will be over.” He smiled a charming smile and sealed it with a wink.

  Before Victoria could respond, Paige burst through the door with a flurry of sound, and Hank’s hand flew from her shoulder.

  “Mommy!”

  “Paige!” Victoria scooped her little girl up gratefully. “Did you have a good time?”

  “It was the best! I got popcorn and chocolate and soda—”

  “Soda?”

  “Clear soda.” Owen approached behind her and filled in the details as though he’d read her mind. “No caffeine, no artificial colors.”

  Feeling guilty that she’d just been talking about Owen to Hank, Victoria glanced over her shoulder to where Hank had been standing.

  He was gone.

  Before she could think too much about it, the door jangled again and Charles entered, carrying his twins, Aaron and Brianne, one in each arm. He addressed Owen. “Dad’s going to meet us for supper. He’s on his way.”

  “Would you like a large table, then?” Victoria asked, quickly snapping back into work mode.

  “Please. There will be six of us, if Owen and Paige are joining us.”

 
Owen nodded and glanced around, as though he wanted to confirm that Paige was planning to eat with them.

  Their daughter had slipped away. “She must have gone to hang up her jacket.” Victoria grabbed a stack of menus and led them toward the dining room. “I’m sure she’ll be right back down.” She grabbed a couple of booster seats for the twins, and Charles looked grateful not to have to juggle both of them any longer. “I’ll bring your father over when he arrives.”

  For the next several minutes, the bells on the door kept up a near-continual racket as customers filed in. If it hadn’t been for the strange conversation with Hank weighing on her, Victoria would have grinned from ear to ear. They had a full house already, and it was still early.

  Britney and Charlotte got busy taking orders and Victoria turned her attention to the kitchen, keeping one eye on the front door. Just as she began to wonder when Paige might reappear, the door jangled again, and Burke Hennessy stepped in with his wife, Christina, and their baby daughter Georgina.

  Swallowing back fear, Victoria stepped out and greeted them, frantically trying to think how she might get them to an empty table without walking past Charles. Given the scene Burke had made at the Saint Patrick’s celebration when he’d called for Charles’s arrest, Victoria feared what might happen if the two of them spotted each other inside her restaurant.

  “Oh, look at Georgina!” Victoria cooed at the baby in an adorable dress. “She’s getting so big.” While she kept Christina distracted talking about her baby, Victoria glanced at the table where Charles sat in plain sight, and wondered if there would be a way to discreetly move him to a corner table without the Hennessys realizing what she was up to.

  “She’s over a year old now,” Christina announced, beaming.

  As she spoke, the bells on the door gave another rattle, and Aiden Fitzgerald walked in.

  “One moment.” Hoping to quickly sweep Aiden off toward Charles and move the doctor to another table in one fell swoop, Victoria stepped around Christina. She took Aiden by the arm. “Right this way.”