She must have made a sound, though, because Nathan said, “Where are you, Emma? I’ll come get you.”
“No,” she managed to say. That would take too long. “I’m okay. Stay with Harley. I’ll get there.”
She ended the call and dropped the phone on the seat. Took a breath, another one. Put the car in gear and drove.
Fifteen minutes later, she was running toward the door at FreeZone. Frankie was waiting at the door and Cal was playing some kind of game with the rest of the kids. As soon as Emma was inside, she said, “Where is she?” She scanned the room, looking for Harley’s bright red hair.
Frankie put her hand on Emma’s arm. “The office. Nathan’s with her.” Frankie kept talking, but Emma ran across the room and threw open the door. Harley sat in the desk chair, and Nathan stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders.
Tears had dried on Harley’s face, but her eyes were still red and puffy. When she saw Emma, Harley leaped from her chair and ran to her.
“Oh, baby,” Emma whispered, clutching her too tightly. “Are you okay?” She leaned away from Harley, smoothed her hair away from her face.
“I’m...I’m okay now,” Harley said. She glanced over her shoulder at Nathan. “Dad came. He came really fast.”
Dad. The vise around Emma’s chest tightened for a moment, then the ache eased. She looked at Nathan, saw his soft smile as he watched Harley. But when his gaze rose to hers, the smile disappeared. He moved around the chair to wrap his arms around both of them, squashing Harley between them.
His face in her hair, his fingers curling into her as if he was holding on to a life preserver, he murmured, “I was so scared when we couldn’t get hold of you.”
“Court,” she managed to say. She needed to pull away. Needed to put some distance between them. Her arms tightened around him. She could wait a few moments for that distance. Right now she needed to hold on to Nathan.
“Yeah.” He dropped a kiss on her hair, then let her go. Pulled Harley to his side. He handed Emma a plastic bag holding a piece of paper. “This was in Harley’s backpack. The police have questions for you.”
* * *
THREE HOURS LATER, Emma and Harley sat at Nathan’s kitchen table, finishing a pizza from Mama’s. When they’d ordered the pizzas, Emma’s stomach had twisted into a knot at the thought of food. But she’d managed to pick at two small pieces.
Patrick had come by a few minutes ago, and now he and Nathan were talking in the living room. Their voices were low murmurs, too faint to hear. Whatever they were saying was intense, because Nathan’s voice rose. “Tonight, Paddy. No excuses. I don’t care if every freaking FBI agent in Chicago has to spend all night looking at the security tapes from that school.”
Patrick’s voice again, saying something soothing. Finally the front door opened and closed, and Nathan walked into the kitchen.
He sat down, took a piece of pizza. “Patrick says they haven’t found anything. No strangers in the school. No one near Harley’s backpack. None of the kids she walked with to FreeZone remember seeing anything.” He tossed the pizza slice back into the box. “It’s as if a ghost stuck that note in her backpack. It had to have happened at the school. Paddy’s going to go over all the footage from the security cameras there.”
Harley hunched her shoulders, and Emma dropped the piece she was eating to put one hand on Harley’s. “They’ll figure this out, baby. Sooner or later, they’ll see something on the tapes. Or someone will come forward.”
“In the meantime, I want you to stay here,” Nathan said. He reached for Emma’s hand and curled his fingers around hers. She should tug away, but she left her hand where it was. For Harley’s sake, they had to be a united front. Protecting her together.
He must have felt her hesitation, because he squeezed her hand. “Please. A police officer is going to sit in his cruiser in front of the house tonight. Maybe tomorrow, too. I won’t worry as much if you’re here.”
Emma glanced at Harley, who’d been quiet since they got to Nathan’s house. “That okay with you, Harley?”
She nodded as she picked a piece of mushroom off her pizza. “Can I still go to school tomorrow? And FreeZone?”
“Do you want to do that?” Emma asked. Harley nodded as she picked off another mushroom.
Emma wanted Harley close until the person who’d given her the note was caught. She saw the same desire in Nathan’s gaze. She wanted to shout at him. To ask who was going to protect Harley when he was in Italy. But this wasn’t the time for that.
“What do you think?” she asked Nathan carefully. “I can drive her to school, then drive her to FreeZone.”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess so.” His expression said it was the last thing he wanted, but he reached for his daughter’s hand. “It’s really brave of you to want to go to school tomorrow.”
Harley rolled her eyes, but it was a halfhearted effort. “It’s not brave, Dad. I have tests tomorrow.”
“I’m still proud of you. Lots of kids would use it as an excuse to stay home.”
Harley ducked her head, but Emma saw her cheeks redden.
“I need to study,” Harley said as she pushed away from the table.” She looked at the dishes and leftover pizza on the table. “Do you want me to help clean up first?”
Emma’s throat tightened. “We’ll get it, baby. Go ahead and study.”
Harley scowled. “I’m not a baby.”
“Of course you’re not. It’s just...” Her throat tightened. How much longer would she have Harley with her? “Just a silly nickname.”
Harley retreated into the living room, and moments later Emma heard her footsteps heading up the stairs.
She looked at Nathan, and the forced cheerfulness he’d worn all evening was gone, leaving nothing but worry, fear and remorse.
“Emma, I am so sorry that you and Harley got dragged into my mess.” He shoved his hands into his hair. “When she called this afternoon...” He closed his eyes. When he opened them, she saw desolation. “It brought back all those memories of when Frankie ran away. The helplessness. The terror. The sickening feeling of knowing your kid was in danger and there was nothing you could do about it.
“And then when we couldn’t get hold of you...” He reached over and dragged her onto his lap. Wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face to her neck.
In spite of her determination to protect herself by keeping her distance from Nathan, despite her knowledge that he’d be leaving soon, she couldn’t help relaxing into him. It had been an awful day.
Finally she rested her forehead against his. “You didn’t do this, Nathan,” she murmured. He needed comfort, too. And because she loved him and she didn’t want to see him suffering, she wanted to give him that comfort. “Maybe this was good. Maybe it was the breakthrough you needed. Maybe Patrick will find something on those tapes.”
“And maybe it just means my kid and my...my lover will live in fear.”
Was that what she was? His lover? He couldn’t even say girlfriend? Lover sounded cold. Sterile.
And girlfriend sounded so seventh grade. Cut it out, Emma.
“You’ll find this guy. He’s getting scared. Desperate. Taking stupid chances. And nothing is going to happen to Harley. She’ll never be alone. Okay?”
“What about you?” he murmured. “Can I keep you close? Keep you safe?”
Yes. Please. But she knew that wasn’t in the cards. “I’m a big girl, Nathan. I can take care of myself.”
She leaned into him, slid her arms around his neck. She’d been careful not to be alone with Nathan the past few days, but she missed this. Missed kissing him, missed feeling his body against hers.
She couldn’t afford to get used to this—Nathan kissing her in the kitchen. Holding her on his lap, teasing her. It would be too painful after he left.
So she slid off his lap even though she wanted nothing more than to stay there for the rest of the night. Swallowing the stupid tears that gathered in her throat, she began to clear the table.
They were sitting on the couch two hours later, watching television. It was an excuse to sit close together, thighs and shoulders touching.
She should go upstairs, shut herself in her bedroom. Alone. Take that first step.
Before she could move, someone knocked softly at the back door. Nathan stood and pulled her off the couch. “Go upstairs,” he whispered. “Don’t come down until I get you.”
Emma nodded. As she began walking up the stairs, she watched Nathan square his shoulders, then head toward the back door.
* * *
NATHAN PEERED OUT the back door. At first he saw no one. Then something moved in the shadows along the side of the house, and Peter Shaughnessy appeared in front of him.
Shocked, he simply stared for a moment. Then he opened the door. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low.
“There’s a squad car at your front door. Don’t want no trigger-happy cop getting excited.”
“No. I mean here. At my house.”
“You wanted to know what I had to say. I want to tell you. But first, get that FBI brother of yours over here. I need protection.”
Staring at Shaughnessy, Nathan pulled his phone out of his pocket as he let the man in. Dialed Patrick, told him he needed to be here. Now. Hung up while Patrick was asking a question.
This was the man who’d killed his parents, and he was standing in Nathan’s kitchen.
“Have a seat,” Nathan muttered, then dropped into a chair himself. Shaughnessy pulled one out carefully. Perched on the edge.
“Why couldn’t you tell me whatever it is the day I went to Urban Table? Why did you make that scene?”
The other man made a scoffing sound. “You think he don’t know you were there? Of course he does. And he knows I didn’t say nothing to you. That I told you to get lost.”
“Who’s he?” Nathan’s heart jerked against his ribs and began to pound. Hard. Fast, as if it might leap out of his chest. Was he finally going to get some answers?
“I ain’t saying nothing until the FBI guy gets here.”
“He’ll be here in a few minutes. You, ah, want something to drink? Iced tea or something?” He couldn’t wrap his mind around offering his parents’ killer hospitality. Nathan shifted on the chair.
“I’m good.”
Nathan jumped up and poured himself a glass of tea, even though he hated the stuff. He wanted a beer, but the thought turned his stomach. Shaughnessy had been drinking shots and beers the night he’d killed Nathan’s parents. It was a detail burned onto his brain.
Finally, after the longest five minutes in history, Patrick pounded at the front door. Nathan jumped up to let him in.
“Shaughnessy’s here,” he said in a low voice. “Wants to tell us something, but he wants protection first.”
Patrick’s jaw worked and he clenched his fists. Then, as Nathan watched, he shook off all emotion. Checked his gun in its shoulder holster. Straightened.
He was no longer the son who’d lost his parents because of the man in the other room. Now he was the FBI agent. Professional. Detached.
Squaring his shoulders, he walked into the kitchen. Dropped into the chair opposite Shaughnessy. “What do you need?”
“I need protection. That witness protection thing. Because he’ll kill me if I tell you the truth.”
“If you have information that can help us, we can put you in protective custody,” Patrick said. “Get you into a safe house. After you give us the information you have, we’ll call in the marshals and make a determination about the witness protection program.”
“Your word on that? Because I don’t trust no one.”
“You have my word,” Patrick said.
Shaughnessy wiped at the stubble on his face. Slicked back his hair. Glanced from Nathan to Patrick and back again. “I’m not the guy who killed your parents.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“WHAT THE HELL?” Nathan shot to his feet. “You were driving the car. You were drunk. How can you say it wasn’t you?”
“I’d like some of that tea now, please.” Shaughnessy licked his lips. Nathan stared at him, but went to the fridge anyway. When Nathan set the glass in front of him, the ex-con took a long drink. “I wasn’t the only one in the car,” he said after he put the glass down. “I was the passenger. The other guy was behind the wheel because I was too drunk to drive. Then he blew through a red light and hit your car.”
Shaughnessy stared at the table. Swallowed. Then curled his hand around the glass, as if he needed something to hold on to. “But he’d been drinking, too. He knew he’d blow more than the limit, and he’d lose his job because of it. And the job he was hoping to get, too. So he made me a deal. I take the rap, and he’d take care of my family. Make sure my wife and kid had enough money. Put my kid through college. I was broke. I’d already been fired because of my drinking. So I agreed.”
“You’re making this up,” Patrick said. He leaned closer. “Trying to blame someone else.”
Nathan wanted to grab Shaughnessy and shake the truth out of him.
But the guy didn’t look as if he was lying. Shaughnessy was calm. Sitting up straight. Meeting Patrick’s eyes. Nathan’s heart began to race.
The older man took another drink. “I kept my part of the deal. Kept my mouth shut, did my time. But he’s turned into a scary shit, and I’m afraid he’s going to kill me. He’s desperate to keep his secret safe.”
He looked down at the table. “Been on my conscience, too. You got a right to know who killed your folks. At A.A., we got to be accountable.”
Shaughnessy met Nathan’s eyes. Nathan’s stomach twisted and his nerves tingled. Patrick leaned across the table. “Okay, moment of truth,” he said to Shaughnessy. “Who is this mystery guy who was really driving the car that night?”
“Mitch Kopecki.”
Stunned, Nathan stared at the guy calmly drinking iced tea at his kitchen table. “Mitch Kopecki? That’s not...we know him. He’s a family friend. His son went to school with Patrick.”
Mitch had eaten in their restaurant. Had shared a drink with Nathan, more than once.
“Maybe he’s your friend. But he was the one who killed your folks.” Shaughnessy glanced at Patrick out of the corner of his eye. “Hurt you.”
“You have any proof of this?” Patrick asked. “If you don’t, it’s your word against his.”
A small smile curved Shaughnessy’s mouth. “He thought he was being so smart. Paying me to take the blame. But I wasn’t too drunk to cover my ass. So before I agreed, while we were sitting in the smashed-up car, I made him write down what he’d done and what he was going to give me for taking the rap. He probably doesn’t even remember. He was real scared. He’d been going to law school while he worked as a c
op, and he knew he’d never be a lawyer if he was arrested.”
“And you still have this paper?” Nathan asked.
“Yeah. It’s in a safe place.”
“Okay,” Patrick said.
His brother glanced at Nathan, and he shook his head. His mind was trying to wrap itself around the revelation. He shook his head again, trying to clear it. Trying to adjust everything he’d thought about his parents’ death.
Trying to change the way he thought about a friend.
His mouth tightening, Patrick pulled out his phone. “I’m going to call my colleagues and have you taken to a safe house,” he told Shaughnessy. “You’ll stay there while we get the evidence together, make sure it’s solid. You don’t tell anyone about this. None of the other FBI agents, no cops, not your family. No one. You hear me? Kopecki is a powerful guy, and he has lots of connections. I don’t want anyone else to hear about this until our case is solid.”
Shaughnessy just looked at him. “I haven’t told anyone in fifteen years. I’m not starting now.”
Patrick held his gaze. Nodded. Then he walked into the living room and began speaking in a low voice. Nathan looked at Shaughnessy, but the other man wouldn’t meet his eyes.
It was too much to process. Peter Shaughnessy, the guy he’d hated for years, wasn’t the one who’d killed his parents. He’d lied about it and allowed the real killer to walk free, though. And all this time, Mitch Kopecki had been the one. The guy who’d eaten at his restaurant, socialized with him, had been the one who’d killed his parents. The guy who’d changed Nathan’s life forever.
“If you’re telling the truth,” Nathan managed to say, “thank you for coming to us.”
After the accident, Nathan had hated Shaughnessy with a fierce, all-consuming passion. And when Mitch Kopecki extended his hand in friendship, Nathan had grasped it.
He’d never guessed the secret Kopecki was hiding. Never questioned why he’d help Nathan’s family when he had a family of his own. He’d assumed the guy was being a good neighbor.
Bending the Rules Page 28
