by Unknown
One from Shawna’s parents. One was from Shawna.
Todd and Marcie Davis never knew Shawna had a daughter. They hadn’t seen or talked to her in over ten years because of her depression and drug addiction. They begged Archer for a visit. Of course they would want to meet their granddaughter and get to know her. He wasn’t sure how they knew his address, but knew they wanted it bad enough because they found it. He appreciated them sending the letter first, asking permission instead of just showing up at his house. They didn’t even know Shawna had passed away until the day the envelope came in the mail.
He looked at the letter from Shawna.
Now he was furious.
He wasn’t sure when she wrote it, but it was sometime prior to her death.
He crumbled both letters in his hands. He had more mobility than the last few days and wasn’t wearing his sling. It sent a sharp pain throughout his shoulder and down his arm, but he didn’t care. He was mentally kicking himself for not seeing the signs. Not knowing something was wrong with Shawna. He didn’t know her well, and they never talked about their lives when they were together. They drank. They fucked. That’s it. He didn’t care to get to know her because he was still dealing with the loss of his parents.
“Shit,” he muttered, tossing the letters on the bed.
He needed to have a talk to Adalyn; she needed to know about the night his parents died. No one knows the truth about what happened that night, and he never wanted to talk about it again. He had to though. He needed to be honest with her; she had been honest with him about her parents.
He kept meaning to talk to her but they couldn’t keep their hands off each other the last few days. He made love to her every night, in the middle of the night, and a few times in the bathroom. She was everything he wanted in a woman. His mom was right; if he was patient and took his time, that the right one would come along and there would be no questioning it.
There was something else he needed to take care of first though, Danny. Archer found out he had been staying with his aunt the last few days because Nick, his dad, was supposedly out of town working. He didn’t care for Danny’s aunt, who smoked in her house, around him, and didn’t care about his wellbeing. It wasn’t enough for him to cause a stink about either. He knew something else was going on because of what Adalyn had heard the other night when he was at his house. He didn’t know what it was, but he was going to get to the bottom of it. The kid is overly quiet and shy for an eight-year-old, but boy, could that kid eat.
He left the bedroom and made his way to the dining room where he left Bailey coloring. She had her books all over the table with a mix of crayons and markers scattered about. She was standing on the chair, leaning over the table trying to reach one of them when Archer placed his hand on her back. “I’ve got it.”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile and took it from him. “I want this one to be perfect.” Archer tipped his head to get a better view of what she was coloring. It was some kind of princess girl and she had colored her dress light blue and gave her dark hair, like Adalyn’s.
“Looks great, sweetheart.”
Archer sat down in another chair and watched his daughter color slowly, following the lines, trying to make sure it was perfect. Of course anything she did was perfect. Life was good. He had some things to take care of, but he wasn’t worried. He had everything he needed in his house already.
“What’s wrong, Daddy?”
Archer raised his eyes to her. She wasn’t looking at him though; she was still slowly coloring something with the red crayon.
“How’s it coming along?” he asked, sitting up and paying close attention to the picture coming to life.
She paused and looked up at him. She wasn’t smiling, if anything she looked upset. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah sweetie, I’m fine.”
“You look sad.”
“I’m fine.”
She waited a few seconds, giving him a good look over and went back to coloring. “Can Danny stay the night again?”
“Tonight?” he asked remembering that he need to stop by Danny’s anyway, so maybe he could figure out what was going on.
“Yes.” She put the red crayon down and grabbed a green one. “He doesn’t like to be at home or his aunt’s house. Plus she smokes, and he always stinks.”
“Do you know why he doesn’t like to be at his house?”
Her crayon stopped moving and she shrugged her shoulder, keeping her eyes focused on his picture.
“Bailey.”
She slowly lifted her head up and met his eyes. “No secrets,” she whispered.
“You want me to help him?” She nodded and he said, “I need to know something. I don’t want Danny getting mad at you for betraying his trust, but I need something.”
Archer watched his daughter swallow and then stutter, “I, uh…I don’t want him to hate me, Daddy. We shared secrets and pinky swore.”
Archer saw her eyes gloss over with fresh tears. He stood up, went to her chair, and picked her up with his good arm, her crayon dropping on the table. “I won’t tell him you told me Bailey, but if he needs help, this is the time to tell someone. I want to help him, like someone should have helped you when you were with your mom.”
“Shawna,” she whispered and Archer could still hear the pain in her voice.
“Right.”
After a few seconds, she told him what Danny’s secret was. Archer thought he was furious before, but now pure rage flooded his veins. He needed to calm down and pay a visit to Danny’s house. Adalyn was at work, so he rung up Margie and asked if she’d take Bailey for a few hours. She was finishing her shift at the police station so Archer dropped Bailey off there and told Margie where he was headed.
He put the truck in park and shut if off before climbing out and walking up to the trailer that Nick Thomas and Danny lived in. It was missing some skirting around the bottom and you could see the tires underneath of it, holding it up. The patchy dead grass crunched under his feet, while dirt encompassed most of the yard. At one time, the mobile home was white, but now, rust was the cause of its dilapidated appearance. He opened the broken screen door, the screen flapping in the breeze. He knocked and got no answer. He stepped off the porch and walked around it, stepping over miscellaneous crap that surround the trailer and tried looking into the windows. He had no luck, since dark curtains covered each window.
He walked back to the front door and knocked again. Hearing nothing, he reached out and twisted the door handle, opening it. Archer walked in, a vile smell hit his nose, and he started coughing. He pulled his shirt over his face and tried not to breathe. He eyes began to water and he wanted to puke. The kitchen was directly in front of him, a small dining table to the left, and a couch and TV on the right. He kept his mouth covered and walked around the couch towards the hallway and stopped. His stomach twisted as bile rose up in his throat. He pressed his hand to his already covered mouth and waited for the bile to recede.
Archer had seen some bad crimes scenes in his time, but nothing of this nature. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if it was a crime scene or not. Nick Thomas was slouched over on the couch, dead. Part of his body was torn open, like an animal had attacked it. Blood and guts were everywhere. “Fuck,” he muttered into his shirt; it was too much.
He rushed out of the house and started gulping down the fresh air, getting away from the home and death. He couldn’t get the smell out of his nose, his stomach was protesting, and he leaned his forearms against his truck.
“God damn it,” he cursed as the pain radiated from his shoulder. He forgot about his shoulder and put too much pressure on it. He didn’t bring his sling with him, so he kept his arm against his chest and pulled his phone out. His finger hovered over Margie’s private line; he didn’t have time to waste.
“Archer,” Margie said when she picked up.
“Margie, get Josh down here.”
“Josh to the Thomas’ house? What…”
“Yes, Josh.”
“He’s the coroner.”
“No shit, Margie,” he clipped.
“Don’t you get an attitude with me boy.”
“Jesus Margie, Nick Thomas is dead. Really fucking dead, and I’m not going back in there. Call Josh, tell him to get his ass down here with the paramedics so we can get this shit handled.”
“Fuck. I’m on it.”
“Keep it quiet please.”
“Bailey went into booking with Tim and Tom. She wanted her finger prints done.”
“Good.”
She hung up and Archer waited for them to show up.
Nick was hitting his son. He wasn’t sure how bad it was or how long it had been going on, but Archer went there to teach Nick a lesson. He wasn’t going to beat him up too bad, but the man didn’t deserve to die. Archer wasn’t sure what even caused Nick’s death; he didn’t stick around long enough to find out. Not even in the police academy had he ever smell death that horrid. Josh could figure it out.
Archer desperately wanted to hit something now, but instead, he just leaned against his truck and tried to calm himself down. His shoulder wouldn’t stop throbbing. His mind kept wandering off. He hadn’t text Adalyn back. He wasn’t sure how to break the news to Danny, or to his aunt, which he knew was Nick’s sister. He was so lost in thought that when Ian’s name popped up on his cell phone, he swiftly hit ignore. Today was a shitty fucking day to begin with and now this. It just kept getting worse.
Chapter 19
Archer ran his hand through his hair a few times. “What the fuck do you mean, she doesn’t want him?”
“She’s doesn’t have any kids of her own,” Scott reminded him while still sitting in his chair, across from him. “She’s older, set in her ways.” Scott was in plain clothes, jeans and a button down gray shirt, because he wasn’t supposed to be working. However, when Judge Norman called him advising him of the situation with Danny, he asked Archer meet him at the station.
“She’s family,” he spat out. “What the fuck is wrong with her?”
“Not all people think family is important.”
“No shit.” He slumped back in his chair, putting too much pressure on his shoulder, causing him to sit up on the edge of the chair again. He was wearing the sling, because without it, he forgot about the hole through his shoulder and would try to use his arm more than he should. Somehow, with one look, Adalyn would know if he was in pain and fuss over him. He loved it, she was cute about it, but he didn’t need her to worry any more than she already did.
Three days ago, Archer found Nick’s body.
Three days ago, he told Adalyn.
Three days ago, she cried for Danny, even though his father was an asshole who hit his kid. She cried for him because he lost his father.
Three days ago, he told Danny.
Three days ago, Danny didn’t cry.
“What about his mom? Carmen.”
“She left six months ago when Nick lost his job.”
Archer wasn’t handing this case, Morris was. He was good at his job, but never went the extra mile. Turns out that Nick overdosed on heroin, vomited all over himself, and then the animals found him. Archer had to try hard every day to wash that scene from his memory.
“Sounds like Nick blamed Danny for his mom leaving them, which is fucked up,” Scott continued. “Drank all the fucking time. Could be why he started hitting the kid.”
Archer tried to rein back his anger at those words but his good hand was flexing in and out of a tight fist, his jaw tight. Why the hell people like him were allowed to have kids was beyond him. He was thankful for the parents he had, the life he lived. It was a good life, with a loving family.
“The kid doesn’t deserve this shit,” Archer said pushing from his chair and turning towards the door.
“I know,” Scott agreed with him. Archer paused at the door for a minute, and then turned around to find Scott standing up from his chair, gathering some files from his desk.
“I’m taking the kid.”
Scott’s head popped up. “What?”
Archer grinned. “I’m taking the kid. He’s been at my house for three days, has his own room, and I’m sure Adalyn can take him shopping for some new shit. Besides, Bailey loves him, and I doubt it will go over if he gets taken away and stuck in the damn system.”
“You can’t just take a kid, Archer.”
“I just did.”
“There are rules-”
“You remind Judge Norman how much he loves hunting on my land. I’m sure there won’t be any problems with the damn paperwork.”
“Jesus, Archer,” Scott muttered coming around his desk with an armful of files. “Think about it first instead of jumping in. This thing with Adalyn is new. Hell, you just got your daughter not long ago.”
“I’ve had three days to think about it, Scott. He doesn’t have anyone else. My girls will understand.” At least Archer hoped. Bailey wasn’t the problem; it was Adalyn he was worried about.
Scott shook his head, and a small smile spread across his lips. “Your parents…”
Archer remained silent while he turned to leave. He had his hand on the door handle when Scott said, “They’d be so damn proud of you, Archer.”
“Talk to Judge Norman,” he said while opening the door. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
A few of the guys were at their desks as he walked through the station to leave. He was still on medical leave, but sometimes they liked to chat or ask his opinions of cases. The worst one of them all was Margie. He loved her, thought of her as a motherly figure, and now a grandma to Bailey, but he needed to get home.
“Archer,” she called out as he tried to rush pass her desk, “I know you can hear me.”
He stopped and slowly turned around to face her. She stood up and grabbed something from behind her desk. It looked like a big pickle jar with something inside of it.
“This is for Adalyn,” she said coming around the desk and Archer went to her.
He took the jar in his hand and eyed the contents of it. It was full of money. Mostly one- dollar bills, a few fives, and he noticed one twenty in it.
“What’s this?”
“Read the sign,” she told him, turning the jar around. “Adalyn’s Cookie Jar.”
He couldn’t help but crack a smile. “You took up a collection?”
“I think she made over a hundred cookies last time. The materials, the time it takes to make that many damn cookies, well, it’s a lot. She doesn’t have to do it, but we like that she does.”
“Thank you, Marg.”
“And,” there was always an ‘and’ or ‘but’ with her, Archer thought, “I’ve got an idea you should run by her.”
“Yeah?” he said bringing his focus up to her.
“Well, it’s kind of in the works already, but I talked to Tera at the diner, gave her a cookie, and we think Adalyn should sell them there. She’s going to talk to her parents about buying a cookie case, or maybe wrap them and sell them at the diner.”
“Huh,” he said looking back down at the jar. That was actually a good idea. She already had paying customers. A few more and Adalyn could start her own business. She might even be able to give cooking lessons to Tim and Tom’s wives. He wasn’t sure if that is what her lifelong goal was, but it was worth mentioning it to her. He couldn’t see her working at the hardware store running a cash register for the rest of her life. However, what he could see was her being wife, a mom, and a business owner.
“Archer?”
He tucked the jar into the crook of his arm. “Tell the guys thanks, and give her a few days to work on another round.”
“I’ll do that. How’s my baby girl doing? I haven’t seen her in a few days.”
“She wants to visit you, but she doesn’t want to leave because Danny’s there.”
Margie chuckled. “That little girl has the biggest heart I’ve ever seen.”
“She does.”
“Just like her dad,” Margie put her
hand on his arm, “and her grandparents. God rest their souls.” Her eyes were glossy, but he had never seen Margie cry. Once in a while, she got soft on him, but not very often.
“Appreciate what you’ve done for Bailey.”
“Anytime.” She dropped her hand and composed herself. “I’ve got tomorrow off if you want to drop the kids off, have a little alone time with Adalyn. They’re both welcome.” She walked back around the desk and sat down, and Archer nodded at her then left.
He went straight home and found the three of them on the beach. It was partly cloudy with a small breeze, but it was still extremely humid out. Bailey noticed him first, took off running out of the water towards him while screaming ‘Daddy,’ just like she always does, and slammed into his legs. He never wanted that to change.
“Adalyn fell,” she said arching her back and looking up at him, while holding onto his legs. He could feel his pants getting wet from her pink swimsuit.
“Fell?”
“Yep! She was bleeding and Danny put a Band-Aid on it for her.”
Archer snapped his head up and saw Adalyn sitting on a towel with a black swim top and short jean shorts. Her wet hair was up in a sloppy ponytail and he saw the Band-Aid on the side of her forehead. She smiled and waved at him, and he swung Bailey up in his arms and went to her.
“Daddy, you’re getting all wet.” Bailey giggled and squirmed out of his arms. He set her down and sat back on his heels to inspect her forehead. He could see blood coming through the Band-Aid.
“How’d you fall?”
She shrugged a shoulder and glanced towards the dock. “We were just playing around throwing the Frisbee, and I didn’t realize the dock was right behind me.” She looked back to Archer. “I tripped or something, hid my head.”
“Danny cleaned it up and put a Band-Aid on it,” Bailey added and he looked at Danny who was standing with his hands on his hips, watching everyone.
He tipped his chin to Danny, thanking him, and looked back at Adalyn. “It’s still bleeding.”
She reached up and touched it, wincing. “It’s fine. Just a little blood.”
Archer pulled the Band-Aid back to find a three to four inch gash in her head. Blood trickled out and he put the Band-Aid back over it. “I’m taking you to see John.” Archer stood and started picking up their toys and towels with his good hand. Bailey and Danny helped without being asked, and Adalyn stood up, slowly.
