Hold On

by Kristen Ashley

  “Now, your sister’s pregnant again, which fills me with joy,” Dave declared. “But she’s forty, so I’ll be havin’ words with Tanner about another go with that because, more time passes, it’s gonna start bein’ dangerous for her. And anyway, this kid makes four for Tanner and four is enough for any man, for God’s sake.”

  Garrett smiled.

  “But I’m not done with grandchildren,” Dave kept on. “Lived empty except for you two kids after we lost Cecelia. Time you two did what you can do to fill me up. Cher’s young, got a lotta baby makin’ in her. But you best get on that because you’re no spring chicken and I ain’t either.”

  Garrett stopped smiling even though what Dave said was funny.

  He also whispered, “Love you, Dad.”

  “I know you do, son, and love you too. You make a kid, you’ll know just how much,” Dave whispered back.

  He knew that. His dad didn’t say it often, but he didn’t shy away from it.

  Since Garrett could remember, before his mother died and after, Dave Merrick always showed it.

  Talking low, Garrett stated, “You’re not to blame about Mom.”

  Dave didn’t reply.

  “You aren’t, and Rocky and me never blamed you,” Garrett went on.

  The guilt and pain sat in his dad’s eyes where it had been for years, never leaving, never even dulling.

  “Mom wouldn’t either,” Garrett finished. “And you know it.”

  Surprisingly, his dad spoke then.

  “I know it.”

  At least there was that.

  Dave Merrick said no more.

  And Garrett had said what he could. Whether his father took it in, that was his choice.

  But he’d said what needed to be said.

  Father and son sat at the kitchen table, where his mother put flowers as often as she could, and they just looked at each other.

  It took a long time to say it and now there was nothing more to say.

  But Garrett learned something else right then at that table.

  With anything important, it was better late than never.

  “I got a homicide to solve,” Garrett eventually told his old man.

  Dave tipped his head to the table. “Then I got a cup a’ joe I best be pourin’ in a travel mug.”

  They got up. His dad poured his coffee in a travel mug. He also walked his son to the door.

  “Want Cher and her boy here for dinner, Garrett,” Dave ordered. “Soon’s you can work that out.”

  He stopped and looked at his dad, muttering, “You got it.”

  He moved in, wrapped an arm around his old man, and slapped his back twice.

  He got three back.

  That was his father; he always bested on the back slaps.

  Grinning, Garrett let him go, lifted the mug, and took off out the door.

  “Careful out there,” Dave called.

  “Always,” Garrett called back.

  He got in his truck and drove to the station.

  Count your lucky stars you’re able to hold tight to your woman so you can weather the goddamned storm.

  Fuck, he missed his mom.

  And he had a great dad.

  On the way up the back stairs to the bullpen, his phone sounded with a text.

  He pulled it out and read, Eggs and toast are not culinary brilliance. Dinner tonight will be. Warning, I’m introducing vegetables to my kid’s diet. Before hitting your pad, please secure an adrenaline shot in case he goes into shock.

  Shit, Cher. Damned funny.

  And she had been that way with him since he knew her.

  She gave that to everyone else.

  But looking back, he’d definitely had his head up his ass. She’d pulled out all the stops to make him laugh, to give him the impression she was just one of the guys but with tits, which meant hiding the fact that he was not like Colt to her. Or Sully. Morrie. Mike. Cal. Tanner. And not because he wasn’t married.

  Because she was into him.

  Shit.

  …weather the goddamned storm.

  He texted back, What time you need me home?

  He gave Mike a chin lift as he walked to his desk.

  He was seated at it, ready to brief with Mike before they took on their day, when he got back, It’s not me fighting crime. You tell me when and dinner will be ready.

  Will do. But later. Good? he texted back.

  You got it, boss, she replied.

  “Everything okay?” Mike asked.

  He looked to his partner.

  “Yes,” Garrett answered. That word was solid because he meant it in many ways, not all of which he was going to communicate right then. “You know where I can get an extra bed? Need to convert my second bedroom to an eleven-year-old kid’s room.”

  Mike’s lips twitched. After years of his partner being the town player, he thought this was hilarious.

  “Nope,” he answered. “But I’ll ask Dusty. Maybe Rhonda has something.”

  Garrett nodded and reached out to turn on his computer.

  He didn’t get there.

  “You hear from Ryker?” Mike asked.

  “No,” Garrett answered.

  “Time to try and hit Cutler again?” Mike asked.

  “Absolutely,” Garrett answered.

  Mike got up.

  Garrett got up without even turning on his computer.

  They went to the sedan.

  And that day, Garrett drove.

  Chapter Twenty

  Matchmaker

  Garrett

  In the bullpen, Mike stood three feet from the whiteboard, staring at it.

  Garrett sat on the side of his desk, also staring at it.

  Sean and Drew stood close, staring at the board too.

  At the top was a long horizontal line, short vertical dashes on the line.

  Close to the right edge and under a dash, on three lines, it said, 4:30 a.m. gunshots heard, time of death.

  Next to that, under a dash, two lines said, 4:39 a.m., 911 call.

  The space between those times and the time Wendy left work as well as the space after those times was empty—except for question marks.

  Stuck to the board, there were driver’s license photos of Wendy Derian and Jaden Cutler. There were also crime scene photos of her, her Fiesta, and four shell casings on the pavement outside her Fiesta.

  Marscha had heard it right; Wendy had been hit three times. Jake found another bullet lodged close to the gear shift.

  Either a warning shot or a miss.

  In the top right-hand corner, it said, Cell phone?

  Other than that, there was nothing.

  Dick.

  Their trip to Cutler’s that morning bought them the same. He still wasn’t there.

  “Fuck, we got dick,” Mike muttered.

  “You got dick,” Drew confirmed.

  They all stared at the board.

  “Seriously,” Drew kept on. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a board so empty.”

  Garrett watched Mike turn annoyed eyes at his colleague.

  “Can’t go to Carlito ’cause no one mentioned him,” Sean remarked, eyes still to the board. “Can’t go to any of Cutler’s associates because no one has mentioned them either.”

  “Not like those guys aren’t used to fishing expeditions,” Mike returned, turning his eyes to Garrett. “They’re known associates. One of their own lost his girl. We’re just looking for any information we can find.” He tipped his chin up to Garrett. “Game?” he asked just when the phone on Garrett’s desk went.

  Game to possibly stir up a hornet’s nest they had no idea what was buzzing around it?

  “Fuck yeah,” he answered Mike, looking at his phone. The display said it was reception. “Just a sec. It’s Kath,” he said, and took the call. “Merrick.”

  “Uh…sorry, Merry,” Kath replied, for some reason sounding like she was talking under her breath. “But Justin McClintock is here and he says he wants to talk to you.”

>   Garrett stared unseeing at the phone.

  He could not believe this shit.

  “I’m in the middle of a murder investigation, Kath,” he told their girl downstairs something she knew.

  “I explained that, but Merry, he demanded to have a word, he didn’t back down when I shared that tidbit, and he seems kind of…perturbed.”

  Goddammit.

  He did not need this.

  And what this was, was Mia’s dad coming to Garrett’s place of work to get in his face in an effort to give his daughter what she wanted.

  Eyes to Mike, Garrett said into the phone, “Reiterate to him I’ve got important shit I gotta see to in order to solve a murder. I’m comin’ down, but he’s only got five minutes.”

  “Will do,” she replied, and disconnected.

  Garrett put his phone in the cradle. “Mia’s dad’s downstairs and Kath says he’s ‘perturbed.’ I gotta give him five minutes, then we can go.”

  Now Mike was perturbed.

  “Her dad? Jesus, how old is she?” Mike asked.

  “You spoil a kid like McClintock spoiled his daughter, I’m findin’ she never grows up,” Garrett replied, straightening from the desk, snatching his suit jacket from the back of his chair, and shrugging it on as he headed to the stairs that led down to the reception area.

  He saw McClintock pacing just inside the front doors.

  Both of Mia’s parents were height challenged—her mom Mia’s height, her dad about five foot five.

  In life, this gave Justin McClintock something to prove.

  It had served him well, because in business, the man took no prisoners. He wasn’t completely loaded, but he was far from hurting. He drove a Lexus. His wife drove a Jag. They still lived in a big house in a nice development even though their daughter and two sons had long since moved out.

  And he gave his daughter a piece of jewelry, the like Garrett learned early he could never compete with, doing that every year, birthday and Christmas.

  In the beginning, Garrett had given her other things. He’d made her laugh, made her happy. They were living the good life and he was a part of that, so this wasn’t a problem; if they had that, he didn’t care if her father gave her jewelry.

  But in the end, they’d fought about it because he’d used something he didn’t care smack about to drive the wedge he was building between them deeper.

  Mia had never asked her dad to lay off, though. She took the diamonds. The emeralds. The tennis bracelets. And she did it with glee, right in front of her husband, even after he’d laid it out—no matter how fucked up it was or how false—that he hated that shit.

  Christ, but it seemed he hadn’t paid attention at all.

  Walking down the stairs, watching Mia’s father turn angry eyes to him, and all he felt was relief that Cher’s father wasn’t in the picture.

  And that he’d finally started paying attention.

  He glanced at Kath as he walked by her, giving her a look that said he’d rather not have an audience for this.

  She read his look, gave a short nod, grabbed some papers off her desk, and hurried toward the copy machine.

  Garrett looked to McClintock. “Justin. Sorry, you picked a bad time.”

  Justin puffed up his chest and skewered Garrett with his eyes. “Don’t give a shit if it’s a bad time, Garrett.”

  His tone was antagonistic.

  Garrett stopped three paces from him.

  “Right. I’m down here outta respect but also to share we’re not only not gonna do this now, we’re not ever gonna do this.”

  His tone was steel.

  McClintock took a step toward him. “You think that, you think wrong.”

  “Okay, then, Justin. How about after I wrap up a homicide investigation, I go to your office and we have whatever this is out on your turf?” Garrett suggested sarcastically.

  “You fuck with my daughter, you don’t get to fuck with me. I fuck with you,” McClintock snapped.

  Garrett crossed his arms on his chest. “I see Mia’s told you some tales, so I’ll give this the time it takes to set that straight. Your daughter and I divorced five years ago. I’m now in a serious relationship with another woman. Mia’s not in my life and hasn’t been in my life in any kind of healthy way for half a decade, so she doesn’t get any say about who is in my life. That’s it. There’s nothin’ more to it.”

  “Mia’s shared how you’ve been stringing her along in a very unhealthy way. Those’re the ‘tales’ she’s been telling, Merrick,” McClintock returned. “Now, are you saying my daughter’s a liar?”

  If Mia shared that kind of thing with her father, it was clear that the fucked-up non-relationship he’d had with his ex for five years after their divorce wasn’t the only unhealthy relationship in her life.

  “I’m saying the relationship we have is none of your business,” Garrett shot back. “It wasn’t when we were married. It wasn’t after we were divorced. And the absolute lack of one now is the definition of it being none of your business.”

  “I beg to differ when my daughter has quit her job, taken her house off the market, as well as broken off her engagement with another man all because she’s committed to helping her husband get his head sorted out. And while she’s committed to that and has shared that with you, you’re not only spending time with the town slut, word is, you’ve moved her in with—”

  McClintock didn’t finish.

  This was because Garrett moved and did it aggressively, backing McClintock up until he hit the connected bench of chairs that ran the front of the reception area. And he did this with such speed, McClintock’s ass crashed into a seat.

  Looking up at Garrett, his face paled with fear before it reddened with bluster and he opened his mouth to speak.

  Garrett leaned so they were nose-to-nose and beat him to it.

  “Have you met Cher Rivers?” he growled.

  “I don’t need to—”

  “If you’ve never met her, you don’t know fuck all about her. So you sure as fuck don’t talk that kind of trash about her.”

  McClintock was shifting in his seat, all bluster now, demanding, “Step back, Garrett.”

  He didn’t step back.

  Garrett declared, “It’s a sad thing to say about a woman her age, but the God’s honest truth is, your daughter is a spoiled-rotten brat.”

  He lifted a hand and jabbed his finger an inch from McClintock’s face, savoring the flash of fear he saw before the bluster shot back when his eyes narrowed.

  On his jab, he went on.

  “You created that. The woman is in her late thirties and her daddy is still out bustin’ his ass and makin’ himself look a fool to get her what she wants. Since she hasn’t already done it, the time is now for her to grow the fuck up and learn to take care of herself. Even more, she needs to learn to take care of the things in her life that mean something. The age she is, Justin, if she doesn’t do that shit, she’s gonna lose those things and you can’t do jack to get them back for her, case in point, Mia not fighting for her marriage and only deciding she’s willin’ to do that when it’s way too fuckin’ late.”

  “You need to step back,” McClintock spat.

  Garrett straightened, but he didn’t step back. This meant McClintock had to get out of the seat while shifting to the side to avoid hitting Garrett’s body. He did that and Garrett turned to him just as his phone in his jacket started ringing.

  He wanted to take the call. With his work and a woman in his life, that woman having a son, he might even need to take the call.

  He unfortunately had to get this done, so he didn’t take the call.

  “We’ll see what your captain thinks of you assailing a citizen right in the reception area of the goddamned station,” McClintock threatened.

  “As it’s a police station, we have cameras. Those will show I didn’t touch you. I also didn’t demand to speak to you. I didn’t show at your place of business, interrupt your pursuit of doing that business, and do i
t uttering slurs against a woman who means something to you. Feel free to discuss this with my captain. He’ll give you the respect of listening to you without laughing to your face. Then he won’t do dick.”

  Garrett’s phone stopped ringing.

  McClintock’s enraged look turned nasty. “I cannot believe I’m looking at the man I happily walked my daughter down the aisle and gave her away to. She’s hurting…because of you. Her life’s in a shambles…because of you. She—”

  Garrett took a step back and planted his hands on his hips, interrupting, “Listen to yourself, Justin. I did not give a ring to another woman, then go to Mia with what amounts to a dare to win her back or lose her forever. I didn’t find out she became involved with another man, happily involved, and seek her out to share I was ready, after five years, to try and resurrect our marriage. After repeated warnings that all between us was good and dead with no hope of resurrection, I didn’t go to her man’s place of business and cause a scene.”

  As Garrett spoke, McClintock’s face got tighter and tighter.

  He might spoil his daughter, but he wasn’t stupid. As Garrett gave him the words, he was realizing Mia had made her own bed.

  But Garrett wasn’t even close to done.

  “She quit her job to move to Bloomington to start her life with another man. She took her house off the market and ended her engagement; I didn’t ask her to. It might be way too late for her to learn lessons you never taught her, but I found out just this morning, when it’s important, it’s better late than never. You gotta let her sort out her own mistakes. If you don’t, she’ll never learn.”

  It seemed like his words had been sinking in, but his advice hit a brick wall. McClintock might not be stupid, but he was when it came to his daughter. Garrett knew this when he saw the stubborn set in McClintock’s jaw.

  Not his problem.

  But it was time to sum up.

  “The only thing I know right now is, no matter what you say or do, your daughter and I are done. I’ve moved on in a way there is no going back. So, however this gets sorted, Justin, don’t drag me into it because, like Mia, the problems she’s created for herself have fuck all to do with me.”

  “So much for ‘to have and to hold, for better or for worse, until death do you part,’” McClintock sniped.