Chain of Custody

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Chain of Custody Page 8

by Carol Ericson


  Emily turned away from blowing kisses at Wyatt and tucked one leg beneath her. “He really is a good baby, isn’t he? He hardly ever cries. That’s not normal, is it?”

  He lifted one eyebrow. “You really don’t know anything about babies, do you?”

  “It’s amazing what you can learn from online videos, but Wyatt did seem to take to me, didn’t he? Babies aren’t much different from dogs. Dogs always seem to know exactly who isn’t thrilled with their presence and then glom on to that person.”

  “So, not only do you not know much about babies, you aren’t particularly thrilled with them?”

  “I wouldn’t say I dislike babies.” She shook her finger at Wyatt. “Don’t listen to this, Wyatt. I’ve just never been around them much. I don’t have siblings, and my dad was too paranoid to allow me to babysit when I was a teen. Only one of my friends has a baby, and I don’t see much of her.”

  Nash placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry about your father. I read some news articles about his murder.”

  She blinked and grabbed her sunglasses from the console. “Thanks.”

  “You got fired from the same department he served?”

  “Yeah.” She shoved her glasses onto her face. “Where are we going?”

  She’d been more forthcoming as Emily O’Brien. Nash cranked up the air-conditioning. “I thought we’d head out to Tombstone, get lost among the tourists. Something tells me you didn’t actually do any sightseeing down here.”

  “You would be correct. In fact, I haven’t been to Tombstone since moving out to Arizona, and I always meant to go.” She formed her hands into two pistols. “I wanna see the shoot-out at the OK Corral.”

  “They do a re-creation of that. It’s all kinds of kitschy, but they do a good job of recounting the history of the town in all its violent, bloody glory.”

  “That’s for now.” Emily pinned her hands between her bouncing knees. “How are we going to shake these guys?”

  “We’ll figure out something. When Jaycee returns, I’m going to convince her to go to the police—regardless of what happens to Brett. Right now, I’m more interested in finding out what Lanier’s stake is in all this. Is he really the father? Has he discovered some paternal instinct for his girlfriend’s baby? What’s he going to tell his wife?”

  “I told you what he told me. He’s in the process of getting a paternity test done—thanks to me.” She patted her chest. “I was able to get one of Wyatt’s bottles for the test.”

  Nash twisted his lips. “You were spying on and sneaking around Jaycee and Wyatt before you followed her to Paradiso?”

  “Y-yes. I was doing surveillance on her for several days before she took off for Paradiso.” She crossed her index fingers, one over the other, and held them out. “Don’t crucify me. I thought I had an up-and-up job, helping a father protect his son. That may still be my mission. You don’t know for certain that Lanier is involved with the cartels.”

  Nash ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Question for you. Whose idea was it to collect Wyatt’s DNA? Yours or Lanier’s?”

  “It was his idea. He wants a DNA test done first, and then a more formal paternity test once he makes his claim.”

  “Is he sure Wyatt is his and not Brett’s? How can he be certain?”

  “Brett didn’t come into the picture until later when Jaycee already had Wyatt.”

  “Are you sure? You got that info from Lanier, right?”

  “Yes. I didn’t have any reason to suspect or doubt him—and I still don’t. Why in the world would a man like that want a baby?”

  “Didn’t we just go through this? He could want Wyatt for the same reason those two men want him. He knows he’s Brett’s child and they want to use him as bait.”

  She shoved her fingers beneath her sunglasses, covering her eyes. “I don’t know. I’m confused, but I can get some clarity if you know people.”

  “Know people?” He cranked his head to the side. “What kind of people? What kind of clarity?”

  She’d been cleaning her sunglasses on the corner of her shirt, and she waved them back at a sleeping Wyatt. “Well, we have his DNA...and I have Lanier’s DNA, too.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nash swallowed hard and said, “Not sure I want to know how that happened.”

  “His straw.” She rolled her eyes. “I have a straw he used, and I put it in a plastic bag.”

  “Does Lanier know that?”

  “No.”

  He glanced at her profile, her chin firm. “Why did you take his DNA? It must’ve been because you didn’t trust him. That’s it, isn’t it? You got a bad feeling from him.” He wiggled his fingers in the air. “It was that cop sense.”

  “I can’t tell you why I did it.” She slumped in the seat and wedged one sandal against the glove compartment. “Stop calling me a cop. I’m not a cop. I’m a PI.”

  “What happened to your career in law enforcement? Your father was a respected homicide detective at the same department.”

  “I thought you did a dossier on Emily Lang and knew everything about me.” Her bottom lip quivered, and he had a strong desire to press his mouth against hers.

  He snorted instead. “I know almost nothing about you. I’m assuming most of what you told me was lies. You slipped up by mentioning your father the homicide detective and by using your real first name. Seeing Emily Lang in Lanier’s financial records wouldn’t have even been a blip on my radar if I hadn’t just met another Emily.”

  “And if that other Emily hadn’t snooped in your email. You figured that out, didn’t you?” She rubbed the tip of her nose.

  “I did, but you had me fooled with your act.” He clamped his mouth shut, and his lips formed a thin line. She’d fooled him. Used him.

  She ran her knuckles down the side of his arm. “It wasn’t all an act, Nash. I’ve really come to care for...Wyatt over these past few days. I’ll admit I saw him as a pawn, a piece in a job for a client, but now I’d do anything to protect him—and not just for a paycheck from Lanier.”

  Puckering his lips, Nash blew out a breath. “What do you plan to do with Lanier’s DNA?”

  “Ah, this is where your people come into play. Do you have access to Rapid DNA? I’d like to do my own test to find out if Lanier is, in fact, Wyatt’s father. If he’s not—” she placed a hand over her heart “—then he must want Wyatt for some nefarious purpose, and I’ll do anything in my power to stop that.”

  “Rapid DNA.” Nash drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel. “We do use it. We used it in the case of one of the decapitated women last month.”

  “Having that piece of information about Lanier and Wyatt could tell us a lot.” Emily tapped on the glass. “We’re getting closer. There’s a sign for Boothill.”

  “Yeah, except Wyatt Earp is buried out in California.”

  “Wyatt.” Emily turned in her seat and ran a finger over Wyatt’s chubby thigh. “Do you think Jaycee named her boy after Wyatt Earp?”

  “Could be. Jaycee Lemoin moved to Paradiso right before high school, and she and my sister became fast friends. She was always wild and kept dragging my sister into mishaps.”

  “Were you a little in love with her?” Emily glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

  Nash threw back his head and laughed. “God, no. Jaycee was an annoyance just like my sister, but my sister had her head on straight. Jaycee could lead my sister into almost any harebrained scheme, but my sister drew the line at drugs. She put her foot down for that, and she and Jaycee drifted apart because of it.”

  “Good for your sister.” Emily flicked her finger at his phone, which buzzed twice. “Do you want me to look at your texts, or no?”

  “That’s my personal phone. You can have a look. Unlike some people, I have nothing to hide.”

>   She plucked his phone from the cup holder and swiped. “Password protected.”

  He held out his hand and she smacked it into his palm. He entered his passcode with his thumb and dropped it in her lap.

  She tapped the screen. “Your friend parked my car near the border and drove back to Paradiso with his girlfriend.”

  “Hopefully, those thugs think you took Wyatt over the border. Can you please text him a thanks back?” He flipped his turn signal. “We’ll find a place for tonight. There aren’t many hotels in town, but most visitors stay in Tucson or even Phoenix and drive down. I think we should be able to find a room.”

  She turned in her seat and rested her chin on the headrest. She blew kisses in Wyatt’s direction and said, “Who could resist this little guy?”

  A smile tugged at Nash’s lips. That was one thing he hadn’t mistaken about Emily. She did care for Wyatt. “Not all the guests are going to be happy when he breaks into a crying fit in the middle of the night.”

  “He doesn’t do that.” She pinched Wyatt’s toes. “Do you?”

  “Yeah, you’ve never been with him during the night. He does wake up sometimes, but he’ll usually go right back to sleep after a bottle.”

  “Of course he does.” She righted herself in her seat and powered down the window. “Do you think the hotel will have a crib?”

  “I hope so.” Nash scratched his chin. He hadn’t thought about the sleeping arrangements. He hadn’t thought about a lot. Just wanted to get Wyatt out of Paradiso and away from the danger. But in what direction did safety lie? Surely not in the direction of Marcus Lanier?

  They drove past Boothill and the road curved into Tombstone. The center of town where the tourist attractions and performance groups resided still had wooden sidewalks and dirt roads, but cars didn’t venture into the center of town. Horse-drawn buggies ruled the road.

  He drove past the town’s museum and pulled into the driveway of the one hotel he knew had decent rooms. He ducked into the back of the truck and unlatched Wyatt’s car seat from its base. Swinging it beside him, he strode into the small lobby of the hotel with Emily leading the way.

  Emily tapped the bell at the front desk and a woman dressed in frontier garb poked her head out of the back and said, “Howdy.”

  Emily pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile. “Hello. Do you have a room for one night?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t. I’m actually surprised because July is not typically a big month for tourists—too hot.”

  “Oh.” Emily turned to Nash, scrunching up her face. “What now? Did you say there were a couple of hotels here?”

  The pioneer woman interrupted, “I’m afraid the other hotel is full, also, but my friend has an Airbnb not far from here and she loves babies.”

  “Do you know if she has a vacancy?” Nash raised his brows at Emily, and she shrugged.

  “She does, unless someone booked with her in the past hour. I was just talking to her.” The helpful woman raised one finger. “Give me a minute and I’ll call her for you.”

  Nash set Wyatt’s car seat on the floor, and Emily crouched before the baby to make faces and grab his feet to bicycle his legs.

  The hotel clerk picked up her phone and touched the display. After a few seconds, she said, “Cora? This is Teri. I have a young couple here with a baby, and they’re looking for a room. Do you still have one of yours available?”

  Young couple with a baby? Not quite. Nash opened his mouth to explain they’d need separate beds, but Teri burst out in her loud voice. “Perfect. I’ll send them right over.”

  Teri ended the call and hunched forward on the counter, folding her hands. “She has one room left, out of three, and she has a crib. You’ll have to book the room through the website, but she’s holding it for you.”

  Emily popped up. “Thank you so much, Teri. We’ve been driving all day, and my husband is a big fan of Wyatt Earp and has been looking forward to visiting Tombstone for a long time.”

  That fabrication came easily to Emily’s lips. Too easily.

  Teri’s cheeks shone like polished apples as she tucked a strand of gray hair that had escaped from her long braid behind her ear. “So happy to help.”

  She slid a piece of hotel paper across the counter and scribbled on it. “Here’s her Airbnb and the address. You two enjoy.”

  After Nash had lifted his jaw from the floor, he grabbed the car seat and exited the hotel while Emily clutched the piece of paper.

  When they stepped into the heat, he tapped Emily’s arm. “Why did you lie in there? All that stuff about your husband and how I was a Wyatt Earp fan?”

  “Why not lie? Why not play the happy couple on vacation with their baby? If someone comes looking for us—now or later—we might as well cover as much as possible. Yes, there was a couple here with a baby, but they were tourists. You know, cover our tracks.”

  “Is this Private Investigating 101?” He tugged on a lock of her hair, on fire from the sun. “You’re a redhead. An unforgettable redhead.”

  She tilted her head and dragged her sunglasses down her nose, where they perched on the tip. “You think so?”

  “I mean—” heat surged across his chest “—not many people have red hair. All anyone has to do is ask if the woman with the baby had red hair.”

  “You have to at least try. Doesn’t hurt to throw a few lies out there.”

  Nash aimed the key fob at the truck and unlocked it. “Maybe you’re in the wrong profession. You lied to me, but you included just enough truth that I discovered your identity. Not that clever.”

  “Ugh, don’t say that. This is my new profession, and I’m going to stick with it.” She opened the back door for Wyatt’s car seat.

  In less than thirty minutes, they had checked into the Airbnb, which was actually a small cottage behind the main house, and secured a crib in the corner.

  As Emily crouched next to Wyatt on the floor of the room to change his diaper, Nash eyed the king-size bed. Emily hadn’t blinked an eye when their hostess, Cora, had ushered them into the room with the lone bed.

  He chugged down half the bottle of complimentary water and then grinned at Wyatt kicking his legs in the air. Wyatt could be their guardian. Parents with babies didn’t have sex, did they? That would be too weird, trying to make the moves on Emily with Wyatt across the room in his crib.

  Staring at Emily through half-closed eyes, Nash swirled the water in the bottle. Not that Emily wanted his moves. Maybe the undeniable heat was all on his side. Hell, she’d duped him without a second thought and was getting ready to kidnap his friend’s baby.

  He needed to keep her close.

  She glanced up from her diapering duties and her eyebrows shot up. “What? You look like you’re ready to interrogate me.”

  “Would it do any good?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  Emily snapped Wyatt’s onesie into place and scooped him up. “Can you feed him while I wash my hands? We might as well do some sightseeing while we’re here. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to explore Tombstone. It’ll get our mind off more unpleasant things right now and maybe lead to some fresh ideas later.”

  “That sounds good, but Wyatt’s not the only one who’s hungry. I missed lunch, so let’s get some food before we see any shows or go to the museum.”

  “I’m on board for that.”

  Nash swung Wyatt into the truck and snapped him in place. “You ready to learn about another Wyatt?”

  After sharing some pizza at a noisy restaurant, they spent the rest of the afternoon watching a show in a re-created saloon that involved some of the more colorful historical figures from Tombstone and the OK Corral gunfight. A few times, the loud pops from the guns would set Wyatt off, and Nash would rush outside with him to allow Emily to see a show he’d watched plenty of times.
>
  During the last break, Wyatt had made it clear he preferred being outside, so Nash bounced him in his arms as he walked back and forth across the wooden sidewalks.

  As the show let out, Emily poked her head outside the saloon and then waved when she saw them.

  She practically skipped toward them. “I loved that. So fun. I had someone take my picture with two of the gunslingers in the show.”

  Wyatt giggled and clapped his hands, and Emily clapped her hands back. “You missed a great show, Wyatt.”

  Nash poured the baby into her arms and she hugged Wyatt close, burying her face in his hair. “He probably needs a nap. Do you want to go back to the room?”

  “Yeah, I want to check my messages. I got a couple of calls from a fellow agent but no voice mails.”

  They drove back to the Airbnb and nodded to their hostess on the way to their room. Wyatt was half-asleep in Emily’s arms by the time she got his bottle ready.

  While she sat in a chair by the window, Nash called Valdez and left a message. “Hey, I saw you called a couple of times. I was busy. Hit me up again.”

  “Shh.” Emily held her finger to her lips. “He’s out already.”

  She spread out his blanket on the bottom of the crib and settled Wyatt on top of it.

  Nash’s phone buzzed in his hand. “Maybe he’s got some news about Jaycee.”

  “Valdez, you must have something important to tell me.”

  “I do.” The young agent coughed. “You know that body at the border I was going out to investigate today?”

  “Yeah?” Nash’s heart began to gallop in his chest.

  “I hate to break it to you, man, but it’s someone you know.”

  Nash’s throat closed up and he couldn’t even squeeze out another word. His gaze traveled to Emily, hovering over Wyatt in the crib.

  “You there?”

  This time Nash managed a grunt.

  “It’s Jaycee Lemoin. She’s dead.”

  Chapter Ten

  The color drained from Nash’s tanned face and his body stiffened.

  “What’s wrong?” Emily pushed away from the crib and sat on the foot of the bed, clasping her hands.

 

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