The Detective's Secret Daughter

by Rachelle Mccalla

  “I’ll give you the keys,” Victoria offered, “and Owen will get into the truck.”

  “No! He has to be tied up first.” Hank appeared to be losing his temper even more than he already had.

  “I can tie him up,” Victoria offered. “Do you have rope?”

  “In the barn.”

  “Okay.” Victoria scooted past Hank. It was dark, and she didn’t see any sort of rope inside the barn. She spotted a lone bulb with a pull chain dangling from the hayloft near the rear of the barn. Darting forward, she gave it a yank, and light filled the barn.

  The back of the barn was dusty, as though no one ever went there, but a row of footprints led to a large old tarp that looked as though it covered a car. Sure enough, tires peeked out from underneath. Whitewall. Who drove whitewalls anymore? She chided herself, realizing from the level of grime on the tarp that likely no one had driven the vehicle under it for a decade or more.

  But Hank Monroe had driven a car with whitewall tires back in high school—his white Mustang that his father had bought him for his sixteenth birthday.

  A white car.

  Under a tarp.

  On Mayflower Road.

  Heart thudding, Victoria silently lifted the tarp and looked underneath.

  The white paint was dented and scratched and streaked with red.

  “Hurry up with that rope!” Hank shouted from outside.

  Victoria dropped the tarp, grabbed a length of rope hanging from a hook above her and headed for the door. She didn’t dare waste any more time. Something told her the man who’d killed her father ten years ago wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.

  “I found the rope!” she announced quickly, before Hank lost his patience entirely.

  “Good. Tie him up real tight. Bring him over here so I can make sure you do it right.”

  Victoria focused on keeping her hands steady as she wrapped the rope around Owen’s wrists to Hank’s barking specifications. Much as she’d have liked to do something sneaky that would allow Owen to get away later, she didn’t know any sneaky rope tricks. And Hank was watching her too closely to allow her to get away with them even if she had.

  “All right. Good enough,” Hank growled. “Now hand me the keys.”

  “You’re going to give me my daughter.”

  “I was thinking about that…” Hank began.

  Victoria’s heart plummeted.

  “If I leave you two here, you might try something funny. So you’re coming, too.”

  “J-just me, right?” Victoria’s voice shook. “Paige can stay.”

  “No! Paige can’t stay. Get in the truck!” Hank shoved Paige forward.

  Victoria wrapped her arms around her daughter as they stumbled toward the waiting vehicle. She didn’t want to go. If they left with Hank, anything might happen. She met Owen’s eyes for just a second.

  He tipped his head slightly forward as though urging them on, as though he was trying to communicate that they needed to hurry.

  What was it he’d told her earlier? To get Paige out of the way so their backup could take Hank down?

  Victoria guided her daughter around the front of the pickup. “Let’s get in on the passenger side, Paige.” She kept her daughter tucked under her arm, as though she could shield her with her body from whatever was about to happen.

  And she was certain something was about to happen.

  FIFTEEN

  Owen waited until Paige and Victoria were safely around the vehicle, shielded by its thick metal sides, before he flew into action.

  As Hank gave him a shove in the direction of the truck, Owen twisted his torso around, throwing himself backward against Hank in an attempt to force him to the ground.

  For a moment, Hank fumbled, dropped a knee and appeared to be halfway down.

  But without the use of his arms to hold him, Owen had no way of keeping him down. If only Victoria hadn’t tied his hands so tight! He blew back a round kick with his left leg, but Hank caught him by the ankle before he even made contact, and jerked up on his foot.

  Owen went down, face-planting in the dirt.

  Hank was on him immediately.

  Did the lawman know he was likely surrounded by his fellow police officers, who were only awaiting a clean shot to take him down? Hank acted as though he suspected he might be—he never let himself become separated from Owen’s side, even as he pulled him roughly to his feet and shoved him instead into the barn.

  “I thought we were leaving,” Owen reminded him.

  “Change of plans. If you won’t go nicely, we’re going to have to stay right here.”

  Hank kept an arm around him as he pulled him deeper into the darkness of the barn.

  Victoria was relieved to see Owen’s sister Keira, the rookie of the FBPD, crouching behind Owen’s truck, waiting for them. Keira gestured for them to stay low while she talked to the other officers via cell phone.

  “Somebody’s got to go in.” Keira paused. “Well, who is Hank most likely to listen to? He already said he thinks the Fitzgeralds are corrupt.” Another pause. “We don’t have time to get a negotiator in there. Hank hates Owen—he already said so. We have to do something now. Owen’s life depends on it.”

  Victoria quickly realized what Keira and her fellow officers, who must have been hidden around the perimeter of the property, were discussing. Hank had taken Owen hostage, but without any real reason to keep him alive, Hank might lose his temper completely and shoot Owen at any moment.

  “I’ll go in.” Victoria gave Paige another squeeze. “Get Paige to safety.”

  “But you don’t—” Keira began to protest.

  “Hank’s on the brink. I could see it in his eyes. Someone’s got to talk to him, and I’m the only one he’ll listen to.”

  “Mommy!” Paige reached for her, fear in her eyes.

  “I love you, Paige. Don’t worry. Keira will keep you safe.”

  “She’s my aunt, isn’t she? And Owen is my dad? I heard him over the radio.”

  “Yes, sweetheart, Owen is your dad. He and I love you very much. Right now I need to talk to Hank about your dad, okay?”

  Warm trust filled her daughter’s eyes, and she stepped back toward Keira. “Okay.”

  Victoria ran around the front of the truck before she could change her mind. “Hank?” she called out as she approached the barn door. She figured Hank didn’t know he was surrounded, though he likely suspected it. If she could convince him they were the only ones around, that she was willing to go along with his plans…well, it was a long shot, but it was all she had.

  “Hank? I thought we were leaving?”

  “There’s been a change of plans.”

  Victoria stood in the doorway and let her eyes adjust to the relative dim of the barn. She couldn’t see either of the men, but she could hear heavy breathing. What was Hank doing with Owen? “I thought you wanted to frame Charles?”

  She heard Hank spit. “Owen won’t cooperate.”

  Thoughts racing, Victoria tried to think of what she could say to lure the men out of the barn. Owen’s brothers couldn’t go after Hank until they knew Owen was out of the line of fire. She had to get them out in the open. “Come on, Hank, let’s just throw him in the back of the truck and get going. He’s tied up. You’re bigger than he is.”

  Silence. She could almost hear Hank wrestling with what to do next. “What do you care, anyway?” he growled finally. “I thought you just wanted your girl back?”

  Forcing all her anger into her voice, Victoria tried to think of something that would convince Hank to trust her enough to leave the barn. “If I leave with Paige, Owen’s just going to turn around and try to get custody of her. I can’t let that happen. I need your help to get Owen out of th
e picture for good.”

  A motion in the back of the barn caught her attention, and Hank pulled on the light above the tarp-covered Mustang, revealing both men standing in front of the car. Hank held a gun to Owen’s head.

  The sight sent Victoria’s heart rate skyrocketing.

  Hank’s wicked smile was deeply shadowed by the overhead light. “Should I kill him?”

  “Not here. If you leave behind any evidence, his death could be traced to you. Let’s take him to Charles’s place. But hurry. Charles was at the Sugar Plum. If we wait too long, he might get home and catch you in the act.”

  “Okay,” Hank agreed finally. “But first, Owen, there’s something I want you to see.”

  Owen braced himself. Hank was in a desperate corner and was likely to act irrationally. Victoria obviously didn’t understand the danger she was dealing with. Why had she returned? She should have escaped with Paige. Now they were both in danger.

  The moment Hank had pulled him back through the doorway, Owen had realized the man had no intention of letting him leave the barn alive. With heart-crushing gratitude, he realized that Victoria had come back for him. She knew she was the only person who had any shot at talking to Hank.

  Too bad Hank was in no mood to listen to anybody.

  Hank took a step back and pulled away the tarp behind them. For the first time, Owen was able to see what it had been covering.

  “Your Mustang. Were you in an accident, Hank?”

  “You might say that. It wasn’t so much an accident as on purpose, though.”

  Owen didn’t figure there was anything to be gained by playing dumb. Hank wouldn’t have shown him the car if he hadn’t wanted to rub his nose in what he’d done to his cousin. “Why’d you do it? Why kill Patrick? He never did anything against you.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be Patrick.” Hank snarled. “That old drunk Stanley Evans wanted me to stop talking about Victoria. He thought he could blackmail me into shutting my mouth. I had to show him.”

  “Blackmail?” Owen asked. “What kind of blackmail?”

  “You think I’m stupid?” Hank grabbed him by the arm and shoved him toward the door. “You think I’m going to tell you? No way. You’re going to die.” He waved the gun at Victoria. “Let’s get going!”

  Victoria ran toward Owen’s truck, her heart crushed. Her dad had tried to quiet Hank’s rumors? He’d died trying to protect her? And all these years she’d been ashamed of him. Tears leaked down her cheeks, but as she cleared the passenger side of the vehicle, she saw with relief that Paige was gone, hopefully taken somewhere safe by Keira.

  She pushed back the tears and turned to face Hank as he pushed Owen ahead of him toward the truck. Though she couldn’t see Owen’s brothers anywhere, she knew they had to be close by, waiting for an opening to act. But they couldn’t do anything until Hank moved his gun from Owen’s back. If Hank got a single shot off, Owen would die.

  “Do you want the keys?” she asked from the passenger side of the vehicle, as Hank pushed Owen toward the driver’s door.

  “Toss ’em here.” Hank tucked his gun into the back of his waistband, took two steps away from Owen and held out his hands.

  Victoria held his eye contact as she slowly dipped her arms forward, preparing to toss the keys. If the waiting officers were ever going to get an opening, this was it. She’d keep Hank distracted for as many seconds as she could, but she couldn’t let him become suspicious, nor could she give him a chance to realize that Paige wasn’t with them anymore.

  “Ready?”

  He nodded, looking mildly impatient, but didn’t look away from the keys.

  She let them fly gently through the air.

  Just as Hank’s hands closed around them, Douglas and Ryan Fitzgerald leaped from the darkness and grabbed him from each side.

  Victoria ducked instinctively behind the truck, unwilling to watch what might happen next.

  A moment later, Owen was beside her, slipping off the rope one of the swarming officers had evidently cut. Victoria could hear Ryan attempting to Mirandize Hank, who insisted with strong language that he was already more than aware of his rights.

  Owen wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his shoulder. Only then did she realize how badly she was shaking.

  “Are you okay?”

  She buried her face against his shoulder, gripping his strong arms tightly, hardly able to believe he’d made it through unscathed. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

  “Thanks to you. Where’s Paige?”

  “I left her with Keira.”

  “Let’s go find her.”

  They took a few trembling steps toward the woods.

  “Mommy!”

  Paige flew forward, and Victoria caught her daughter up in her arms. As she held her tight, Paige looked over her shoulder at Owen.

  Owen smiled sheepishly at his daughter.

  “I heard you on the radio,” Paige began quietly, almost as though she was afraid he might deny the truth of what he’d said before.

  “I’m your father, Paige.”

  “Yes!” Paige dropped her hold on Victoria and leaped for Owen, who caught her up in a tight bear hug.

  Victoria took a step back, but Owen pulled her toward them again.

  The police captain, Douglas Fitzgerald, approached, and Owen addressed him from over the top of his daughter’s head. “The white Mustang under the tarp is critical evidence I want to go over with you. And we’ll need to follow up with Hank. There’s more to this story than he’s told us.”

  “Of course.” Douglas turned to address Victoria. “Thank you for your assistance. I wouldn’t have let you go in if I’d had a chance to stop you, but—” he looked at his brother and swallowed “—I’m glad you did what you did. You gave us the break we needed to apprehend Hank, and you saved my little brother’s life.”

  Back at the Sugar Plum, the searchers who’d returned sent up a cheer when Victoria carried her daughter through the front door.

  Clint waved from the kitchen. “I’ve got everything under control. Take your time.”

  Victoria mouthed a thank-you to him and stopped to thank everyone who had gone out to help search for her daughter.

  By the time she’d served everyone and put her exhausted daughter to bed, Victoria was ready to crumple into a ball herself. Just as she was about to lock up for the night, the bell on the door jangled and Owen walked in, looking every bit as tired as she felt.

  He set a familiar red bank bag on top of the pastry case.

  Victoria’s jaw dropped. “Is it mine? The one that was stolen?”

  “We found it under the tarp with the car. We counted the money—it’s exactly one hundred dollars less than the amount you reported stolen.”

  “I can only assume he used the missing hundred as the one-hundred dollar bill he offered me the next day.” Pulling the zipper back gingerly, Victoria peeked inside to see the report she’d run just a few weeks before, along with the cash and checks. “Praise the Lord. This should cover my expenses.”

  “God provided.” Owen gave her a tired smile. “And Paige was right. Hank was humming ‘The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.’ He was upset with me for stealing you away from him. His plan was to scare you enough that you’d turn to him for help, and he could blame all your troubles on me. Hank was the shadowy figure you’ve seen lurking outside your windows. You’re safe now.”

  The story fit with everything Hank had said to her, right down to the end. She walked with Owen back into the kitchen and stashed the bank bag securely inside the new safe. “Did you ever learn what was behind the blackmail story with my dad?”

  Owen let out a long breath. “Hank was running moonshine for Frank Gallagher, and your father knew it. Your father got sick of t
he rumors Hank was spreading about you. He told Hank if he didn’t come clean and clear up your reputation, he’d let everybody know he’d been running shine, which would have not only ruined Hank’s reputation as a good kid, but since he was eighteen, it would have stayed on his record, and probably kept him from ever fulfilling his plans of getting hired as a cop. Hank flew into a rage, chased your dad off his property and rammed him into Patrick’s car. Then Hank hid the Mustang in the barn and lit out of town. When he learned you’d left town the same night, he called all his friends and told them the two of you had run away together.”

  Victoria hung her head. “All these years—” she sniffled away a tear “—I was so ashamed of my father. But in reality, he died defending me.” Her tired mind sputtered and she shook her head. “What about Judge Monroe? That Mustang has been parked on his property for a decade. Is he going to go to jail for concealing evidence?”

  “He claims he never went out to the barn, and had no idea there was anything under a tarp out there.”

  “For ten years? How could he possibly be that oblivious?”

  “We have no way of proving otherwise.” Owen reached for her. “I talked to my family members and explained everything. I hope you don’t mind—after I gave away the truth over the radio, there didn’t seem to be any point in waiting to explain things together.”

  Victoria tried to relax as his hand settled on her shoulder, but she still felt wary of trusting Owen. “What about the email Hank showed me? He said you wrote those words.” She watched his face intently, begging him to deny that it was true.

  Owen’s guilty expression did nothing to bolster her confidence. “I was hurt and angry back then. I—”

  She felt fear rising in her throat. Everything was far from over. “Are you going to take me to court?”

  Owen let go of her shoulder and took a step back. “I still need to talk to Cooper—”