by Lynda Bailey
Shasta’s stomach bottomed out. “Why would you ask that?”
“For one, the timing. I can’t help but assume you wanting to leave Stardust is related to him being out of prison. Do you feel threatened by him or any of his gang associates?”
Relief weakened her muscles. “No…it’s nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?”
She offered her hand again and he held it. She traced her thumb over his knuckles. “To be honest, it’s been since Todd’s…death. Guess I’m worried about having regrets.”
“Regrets?”
She nodded. “Regretting all the time you have to spend away from us. Away from Wyatt. Regretting not being more…adventuresome.” A small shudder quaked through her. “Lord knows I was more than adventuresome when I was younger. I was downright reckless. And maybe I’ve compensated too much for that. Gone too far in the opposite direction.” She chewed her bottom lip, staring into her husband’s eyes. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want to live a fuller life. A life with my husband and son and maybe even…” She switched her gaze to her plate. “…another baby.”
Graham went stone still beside her. Shasta wondered if he was even breathing. She didn’t know how long they sat there, in absolute silence. By inches, she raised her gaze.
His face appeared completely blank. She read no shock or joy or…any emotion whatsoever on his expression. She waited, her heart thumping in her throat, for him to say something.
Anything.
Finally he blinked. “You want another baby?” His question echoed with uncertainty—and astonishment.
She gripped his hand with both of hers. “Yes. Very much.”
He dipped his head slightly. “With…me?”
Her mouth curved upward in a nervous smile. “Of course with you, silly.”
“But you know I…can’t.”
She tightened her grasp on his fingers. “We could use in vitro fertilization. I’ve done some research—”
Graham tucked back his chin. “You did research on in vitro? When?”
“A couple of years ago.”
“You never told me that.”
“I know.” She rolled her lips. “It was the summer before Wyatt started kindergarten. I think I suffered a mild form of empty-nest syndrome.”
“And now? Why the sudden interest in another baby?”
She stiffened her spine. “It’s not so sudden, Graham. I’ve always wanted more kids.”
“And yet you’ve never mentioned that fact.”
“Maybe because I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Or maybe…” She sighed. “…because I wasn’t a hundred percent sure myself.”
“And now you are sure?” He sounded less than convinced.
“Yes.”
Graham’s brows drew together. He extracted his hand from her hold, planted his elbows on his chair arms and steepled his fingers. “I must confess, Shasta, this all strikes me as…odd. To say the least. Moving to Vegas. Having a baby.”
“Things might be a little out of left field.”
“A little?” He chuckled then sobered. “I like the idea of moving to Vegas, but a baby?” He shook his head. “I’m too old for a baby.”
“Nonsense. You’re not too old. And think of how great it’d be for Wyatt to have a little brother or sister to pester and protect. I know Dell is a major pain in the butt, but I wouldn’t change having him as my big brother for anything in the world.” She took his hand again. “I know you didn’t have a brother, but you were close to your older cousin, weren’t you?”
“Very. Until he died…”
“Then you understand the special bond that exists between siblings. Just promise you’ll think about it, okay?”
He smiled. “All right. I promise to think about it.”
Shasta jumped to her feet and wound her arms around his neck. Tears welled in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered against his neck.
Laughing, Graham returned her hug. “I didn’t say yes, only that I’d think about it.”
“I know.” She settled into her seat. “But you also didn’t say no.”
Graham picked up his fork holding the forgotten heap of potato salad and resumed eating, as did Shasta, though she didn’t taste anything. Her chest and heart felt so…full. So happy. A chance existed she and Graham would have a baby, and she’d take that any day.
Once the lunch dishes were stacked in the dishwasher, she leaned against the table and checked her watch. “Guess I should mosey back to work.”
Graham tossed the dishtowel onto the counter. “Any chance you can play hooky for the rest of the afternoon? We could pick up Wyatt and head to the cabin. The three of us.”
She smiled. “Ohh. I love that idea. I’ve got some paperwork to finish, but it shouldn’t take too long.” She bent over with her best pouty, beseeching expression. “Would you mind terribly waiting?”
He pulled his mouth into a mock frown. “Well, I don’t know…”
“Pretty please?” She batted her eyelashes.
He laughed. “Of course I’ll wait. It’ll give me the chance to get caught up on everything that’s been happening since I’ve been gone so much this past month.”
“It’s settled then.” She kissed him then straightened. “I’ll get my purse and we can go.”
Less than ten minutes later, Graham steered his van in the handicapped spot at the stationhouse and cut the engine. Shasta unclipped her seatbelt and got out while he maneuvered his chair to the hydraulic lift. She waited for him to exit the vehicle then ambled up to the entrance alongside his wheelchair. Inside, she waved to Joan and walked to her desk while Graham headed for Dell’s office.
The squad room didn’t look much different than it had over the last week and a half. Dark-suited FBI agents still sat at random desks working Todd Weedly’s murder case. Shasta crammed the paperwork she’d finish tomorrow into a drawer as her husband approached.
“Perfect timing.” She grabbed her purse and stood. “I’m all done.”
“Yes, but it appears I’m not.”
“What are you talking about?”
Graham placed his elbows on his armrests and sighed, an uncharacteristically fierce scowl on his face. “Seems Adam decided to take a last minute vacation leaving your brother in a lurch—legally speaking.”
Shasta raised her eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound at all like Adam.”
“I know. But he did. In fact he didn’t even call in. He texted his secretary. And with everything that’s been going on.” Graham shook his head. “What an ass.”
“So what’s this got to do with you?”
“There’s a suspect in interrogation with his lawyer and your brother wants me in on the interview. An assistant DA is on his way from Reno, but Dell thought so long as I was here…”
Shasta squinted at her brother’s office. “He could take advantage of you.”
“Something like that. But I told Dell you and I had plans for the afternoon and that you’d have to okay this.”
She sighed. “How long do you think?”
“Hard to say. It’s a murder charge.”
Her breath caught. “Murder? Did they find who killed Todd?”
“No. This has to do with something that happened last night. So what do you say?”
“I say my brother is awful for imposing on you.” She placed her purse back on her desk and pulled out the files from the drawer. “But I can see this is important to you.” She sat down. “And I really should finish my paperwork anyway.”
Graham grasped her hand and pulled her close for a chaste kiss. “Thank you,” he murmured before releasing her. He pivoted himself around. “This really shouldn’t take too long. Like I said another DA is in route.”
She watched her husband wheel toward the interview room, a smile on her face. Her chest felt all…fuzzy. Normally Graham would have done the interview without a second thought to any plans he might have had with her and Wyatt. The fact he’d asked for her input t
hrilled her. With luck she and her husband and their son would still be able to spend part of the afternoon together.
Graham opened the door to the interrogation room and swung it wide enough to accommodate his wheelchair. Shasta caught a glimpse of familiar blond hair, and her body went rigid…like she’d been flash frozen.
Was that Lynch?
No…it couldn’t be. Graham had said this was a murder case. And Lynch couldn’t possibly be in custody for murder. Could he?
She must’ve misunderstood or she didn’t see what she thought she saw. But she needed to check it out…just to be sure. On unsteady legs, she stood and walked toward the viewing room.
She slipped inside and three agents turned from the one-way mirror to look at her. With her hand on the door, she gave them a wan smile, and was about to turn tail, when she noticed the wastebasket overflowing with discarded Styrofoam coffee cups. Mustering confidence she didn’t much feel, she grabbed the basket as Agent Jarvis’s voice came over the speakers.
“You don’t have an ounce of solid evidence. It’s all circumstantial.”
“That may be true,” she heard Graham say, “but it’s more than sufficient to convince a judge to hold Mr. Callan for twenty-four hours.”
Reaching out her hand, Shasta steadied herself against the wall. Lynch was the suspect. She cast a fleeting look to the agents in the room. They all stared at the mirror, ignoring her. She stayed very quiet and listened to the conversation…
“A lot can happen in twenty-four hours to a guy in lockup,” her brother mocked.
“Are you threatening my client?” Jarvis demanded.
“Cut the lawyer client crap, will ya?” Dell retorted. “You’re an FBI agent.”
“And a lawyer. Wanna see my degree?”
“What I want is Lynch Callan back behind bars.”
“That’s enough,” her husband interrupted.
Thank God Graham’s in there…
“Let’s review the facts, shall we Agent Jarvis?” Graham continued. “Jack Martin, aka Bowyer, was a member of the 5th Street biker gang and a known associate of your client. And your client quite probably blames him for the deaths of Rolo Pruett and Hez Hernandez. Given the fact Mr. Martin and two other Streeters were murdered around one a.m. last night and that your client doesn’t have an alibi, you can—”
Shasta didn’t hear the rest. She barreled from the viewing room and straight into interrogation. “Wait—”
Dell, Jarvis and Lynch jumped to their feet at her abrupt entrance.
“Jesus,” her brother roared, stabilizing himself with a hand on the table. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“Lynch is innocent.”
Graham veered his chair around to face her. “Shasta, sweetheart, you need to go.”
“But I’m telling you Lynch didn’t kill anyone last night.”
“And you know this how?” Jarvis asked.
Shasta looked at Lynch. He slumped in his chair, a hand on his face.
“Because I was with him.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
THE RESULTING QUIET flayed Shasta’s eardrums. She wrapped her arms around her middle to mask her trembling.
Dell’s mouth fell open, and he stumbled backwards into his chair. “What did you say?”
“I said I was with Lynch last night. All night.” She rolled her lips together. “And he was still sleeping when I left his trailer this morning at five-thirty.”
Jarvis cleared her throat into the yawning silence. “Well…seeing as my client now has an alibi, we’ll be going.” She picked up her briefcase. “C’mon Callan.”
Shasta shifted to the side, staring at the floor, as Jarvis and Lynch walked out. Her brother stood, grabbed his cane then hobbled to the door. He paused beside her, but said nothing. Then he too left, leaving her with her husband.
Graham wheeled himself until he sat directly in front of her. She inched her gaze up to meet his. The anger and hurt in his eyes twisted her stomach.
“Is this why you suddenly wanted a baby?”
“What? No—”
“You were hoping to pawn off another one of your mistakes onto me, weren’t you?” His caustic tone ripped at her heart.
Tears gathered in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she vehemently shook her head. “No, Graham. I swear.”
He winced and rubbed his fingers to his temples.
She squatted down. “Another headache? Here…let me.” She reached for him.
He jerked away. “Don’t.”
She clasped her hands together at his snarled command.
Graham lowered his hands. Tension rippled along his jaw line. “Ask your brother for a ride home. I’m going to the house to get some things then I’ll stay at the cabin until further notice.” He grabbed the knob.
“But what about your afternoon plans with Wyatt?”
He hesitated.
She awkwardly shuffled toward him. “I understand you’re angry with me. Furious even, and you have every right to be. But please, please, please don’t take it out on Wyatt.”
Graham heaved a breath. “Fine. I’ll still pick him up and take him to the cabin.” He sliced his gaze to hers. “Without you.”
She bowed her head while her husband wheeled himself from the room. She plopped onto her butt, her face buried in her hands.
What in God’s name did she just do?
*
Lynch trailed behind Jarvis from interrogation and into the sheriff’s office. He grabbed his cut off a chair as the agent closed the door and leaned against it, her arms crossed.
“If you had an alibi for last night, why the hell didn’t tell me?”
He popped his tight neck muscles. “I had my reasons.”
She shoved from the door. “Yeah. Like protecting the reputation of another man’s wife.” She shook her head with a small laugh. “And here I didn’t think gangbangers had ethics.”
“Well apparently some of us do,” he ground out. “Can we go now?”
“Sure.”
Jarvis opened the door—and in limped Dell.
The sheriff tossed his cane to the floor then backed Lynch against the wall, his forearm to the biker’s throat. “You fucked my sister?”
Jarvis seized Dell’s arm. “What the hell are you doing? Let him go.”
Dell pressed on Lynch’s windpipe, his face twisted with rage. “You fucked her like one of your skank bitches?”
Stars clouded Lynch’s vision, but he had no leverage to propelled Dell off him.
Jarvis wrenched harder. “Sheriff Albright…let…him…go.”
Abruptly, Dell released the pressure.
Lynch bent forward, coughing and gasping, massaging his throat. Once he’d caught his breath, he straightened.
The sheriff thrust his finger at him. “Stay away from my sister or I will fucking kill you.”
Lynch couldn’t blame a brother for defending his sister. If the situation were reversed, he’d feel the exact same way.
Jarvis positioned herself between the two men. “Settle down.”
A loud knock turned everyone’s attention. Newman stood in the doorway, a cell in his hand. “Um…sorry to interrupt.” He cast a nervous glance to everyone in the room then looked at Jarvis. “But the Portland office is on the phone for you.” He handed the phone to Jarvis and left, closing the office door quietly behind him.
“This is Special Agent Emma Jarvis,” she said into the phone. “Yes…what can you tell me, Agent Romanski?” As she listened, her hand reached out and clutched the chair back with whitening fingers. “All of them?”
Her high-pitched voice shriveled Lynch’s stomach. The news must not be good.
She pivoted, her wide-eyed gaze holding his. “I understand. Yes…thank you for calling…good-bye.” She disconnected the call, and the normally stoic Agent Jarvis looked to be fighting tears.
“What happened?” Lynch asked.
She cleared her throat. “Um…well…the tip on Junkyard Taylo
r’s half-sister paid off. Turned out her father’s family owned a small industrial park that had been vacant for years. That’s where the girls were found. Twenty-three of them.” Her shoulders lifted on a big inhale. “All safe.”
His mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “Seriously. Of the four men guarding the girls, two were killed at the scene, but the other two are alive, at the local hospital and—most importantly—talking. This could be the break we’ve been hoping for against Blackwell.” She smiled the first genuine smile Lynch ever remembered her having. “And it’s thanks to you, Callan. You’re a hero.”
“Good God,” Dell grunted as he bent over and reclaimed his cane.
Jarvis’s smile became an instant scowl. “Problem, Sheriff?”
Dell scowled back. “Yeah.” He pointed to the squad room.
Lynch watched Graham Dupree veer around the desks on his way to the front entrance. Minus Shasta. Remorse knotted his chest,
“Callan a hero?” the sheriff scoffed. “The bastard took advantage of my sister.”
Jarvis planted her hands her hips. “If that’s true, why isn’t she pressing charges?”
Not answering, Dell shambled behind his desk and flopped into his chair.
Jarvis picked up her briefcase and opened the door. “Let’s go, Callan.” Outside the office, she gripped his arm as they walked to the entrance. “I don’t give a shit what Albright says…to those girls and their families, you and the Streeters are heroes.”
He shrugged off her compliment. “Not heroes, counselor. Just criminals. With, as you put it, criminal minds. So what’s next?”
“Well, there’s paperwork—”
“What’s next for me?”
She pursed her lips. “I’m not exactly sure…”
“While you figure that out, I’ll be at the clubhouse.”
“That’s not a good idea. Not with Blackwell still at large.”
“No place is safer than the clubhouse, counselor…believe me.” He held the front door for her.
“Really?” Jarvis walked through then turned, her head tilted. “You’ll be safe surrounded by people you were informing on to the FBI?”
“Gonna hafta face the music sometime.” He donned his cut. “Might as well be when I’ve got good news to share. ‘Sides, they’re family. After everything that’s happened, I need to be around them…no matter the outcome.”
