by JL Simpson
Daisy stared as he grabbed his keys and wallet. He wouldn't care about his ex, Lisa, but if something had happened to his little daughter, Molly, he'd be inconsolable. Did he need a hug or a punch bag? “What's going on?”
“Lisa's been arrested for dealing drugs.”
“And Molly?”
“At the police station with her.”
“Go.” Daisy flapped her arms at him. “Go.”
“What about your friend?”
“One night. What harm can he do? Solomon, just go.”
He blew out a breath and then pointed a finger at her. “Anything happens, and I'm holding you responsible.”
Chapter Seven
Solomon stormed through the front door of the police station, and slammed to a stop at the desk. He should have fought harder for custody of Molly. Lisa was the worst mother in the world. Even the responsibility for their little angel couldn't keep her on track. His lifestyle was far from ideal, as Lisa had pointed out at the hearing to decide about Molly’s continuing care, but he wouldn't make the mistake of handing his daughter over to Lisa again. The sergeant looked up from his computer screen, and raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you, sir?”
“I got a phone call to come and pick up my daughter.”
“Is she under arrest?”
“No, she's three years old.”
“What's your name?”
“Solomon.” He scrubbed at his hair. He used his army nickname so often he forgot he had ever been called anything else. “I mean Ronan Liffey.”
“She's upstairs with Dan Maloney.”
Solomon pushed away from the counter, crossed the foyer, and burst through the door to the stairway.
The sergeant yelled, “I'll let them know to expect you, shall I?”
Solomon took the stairs two at a time. When he pushed the door to the detective's office open, he saw Molly perched on top of Dan's desk. She was being entertained by a female officer. Thank God, his darling appeared to be in one piece. His shoulders dropped, as the tension flowed from his body.
Molly turned, and held out her arms. “Da.”
Half-a-dozen paces ate up the space between them. She leapt toward him. Solomon swept her into his arms, and squeezed her tight, raining kisses on the top of her dark hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his shoulder. Her tiny body trembled, as she held on for dear life.
Solomon closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, before clearing his throat and looking at the policewoman. “Thank you for taking care of my little angel.”
The young woman’s smile drew attention to her overly large dark green eyes. “My pleasure. She's an absolute sweetheart. Detective Maloney asked me to come and take control. Six big male detectives, and not one of them had a clue what to do when she started crying and wanting her da.”
Solomon planted a kiss on Molly's sticky cheek, and smiled. “Chocolate?”
The policewoman nodded. “I've got three nieces, and when all else fails, I pull out the chocolate. It drives my sister nuts when I take them home with a sugar high, but sometimes a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.”
Molly squirmed. Solomon tucked a finger under her chin, and tipped her face up. “Did you have fun with…?” He glanced at the policewoman.
“Mavis Mills. I know, horrible. Mavis was my grandmother’s name.”
The police uniform wasn't the most flattering of garments, but she wore it well. Solomon was six feet two and in her flat, sensible shoes, Mavis stood two or three inches short of his shoulder. When she smiled, her full lips were a little crooked, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. Out of uniform she'd be a knockout, and she loved kids. If she had a husband, the man had hit the jackpot.
Solomon bet her children would never end up alone in a police station. He forced a smile. “So, Molly, did you have fun with Mavis?”
Molly nodded, and rested her head on his chest. She grabbed a handful of his shirt, and clung to him as she stared at the policewoman.
A hand squeezed Solomon's shoulder, and he turned to find Detective Dan Maloney standing behind him. Solomon had used up the favor Dan owed him on his and Daisy’s last case. Now it seemed Solomon was the one with the debt. “Dan. Thanks for calling me.”
“Not a problem. I just need a moment of your time. You-know-who is refusing to talk until she's seen you. She won’t speak to a lawyer, and won't do herself any good by giving up the name of her supplier.”
“Can’t it wait? Getting Molly home and settled is my priority right now.”
“She said you’d say that.”
“Then she knows I won’t be visiting.”
“I understand how you feel, but I could really use your help. She wants to talk to you. The only other thing she’s told us is that she needs protection. From who or what is a mystery.”
“Do you believe her?”
Dan shrugged. “She seems genuinely scared.”
Molly fidgeted, and Solomon lifted her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles, before kissing her fingers. Lisa could rot in hell, but if she’d done anything to compromise Molly’s safety, he needed to know about it.
He turned his attention to PC Mills. “Could you watch my angel for a little while longer?”
She held her arms out for Molly. “Come on, pretty girl. How about we go and wash your face, and get you a drink?”
Molly's grip on Solomon got a little tighter. He kissed the top of her head, and untangled her arms from around his neck. Tears glistened in her eyes. Solomon cleared his throat, but his voice was still husky. “Go on baby girl. You run along and play with Mavis. I won’t be long, and then we can go home. Do you want to sleep in your princess bed tonight?”
Molly nodded, as a tear slid down her face. “Wiv you, da?”
“Sure, my little angel. Whatever you want.” After kissing Molly’s tear stained cheek, Solomon reluctantly let Mavis lift her out of his arms.
Solomon watched, as Mavis carried Molly out of the room, chatting to her the whole time. Whatever she was saying had the little girl completely mesmerized. She made no protest about being taken away.
He shifted his focus to Dan, and frowned. “Did anything happen to Molly?”
The detective shook his head. “It was only after we'd handcuffed Lisa that she told us Molly was waiting for her, safely strapped into her car seat. We thought it best she not see her mother driven away by the police. The paramedics came out, and gave her the once over. She was upset by all the strangers, and cried for her mum and then for you, but they're sure there will be no permanent trauma.”
“I'm not giving her back to Lisa. I’m going to fight tooth and nail for full custody. As far as I'm concerned, you can lock Lisa up and throw away the key.”
“Talking about Lisa—shall we?” Dan nodded toward the door.
“Sure.”
Solomon followed Dan to the custody suite, and waited in an interview room, arms crossed and leaning with his back to the wall. He made a conscious effort to stop grinding his teeth and relax his hands. As much as he wanted to throttle Lisa, she’d be less than useful dead.
The door opened, and his ex sauntered in with her hands cuffed. Her long blonde hair hung lank and lifeless around her face. Her eyes looked sunken and hollow against the background of her orange spray tan, and her usual immaculate manicure was missing, replaced with chewed nails.
Dan Maloney followed and shut the door.
Lisa glared at Dan, and then back at Solomon. “I'm saying nothing with filth in the room.”
Solomon sighed. “Would you be willing to give us a moment, Dan?”
The detective nodded, and left them alone.
Solomon glared at Lisa. “I’ve no time for your games. Thanks to your shenanigans, I have a distraught daughter to comfort. What the feck did you think you were doing, taking her out to sell drugs? Are you completely fecking mental? As far as I’m concerned, you can go to hell.”
Lisa sat on one of the two plastic chairs, and smiled. “No
hello?”
Solomon crossed the room, and grabbed the door handle.
“Wait. I’ll talk.”
He turned around.
She leaned her elbows on the table. “I need money.”
Solomon snorted. “Good luck with that.”
“If I don't get money, I won't get bail. I just need enough to get me out of here, and set up somewhere new. They'll kill me, if I don't make a run for it.”
“Who'll kill you, and why should I care?”
Lisa picked at her broken nails, her hands shaking. “I can't say.”
“Then I want nothing more to do with you. My solicitor will be in touch.”
She pushed to her feet. “What for?”
“I want full custody of Molly.”
Lisa sneered at him. “Why? She's not your kid. Maybe her real dad should have a say in her care.”
“I know who spawned Molly, and if he ever comes near her, I'll rip off his bollocks. In all the ways that matter, she's my child, and I'll not see her brought down by you and your lifestyle.”
“Give me money, and she's yours. No messing. I just need fifty grand.”
Solomon put his hand back on the handle. “I'll be sure to tell my solicitor you were prepared to sell your own child. No doubt that will help me win custody.”
“Wait.”
Solomon glanced over his shoulder at her.
Lisa walked toward him. “I’m serious about needing the money.”
“And I’m serious about Molly’s safety.”
She grabbed his sleeve. “As long as they’re out there, neither of us are safe.”
“Who? Who’s out there?”
Lisa shrugged and let his sleeve go. “They rang me looking for Sean.” Her latest loser boyfriend. “I had no choice. If it wasn’t for Nobby, I’d probably be dead already.”
“Nobby?” There was name from the past Solomon had never wanted to hear again. “What does Nobby have to do with any of this?”
“I got the drugs to sell from Nobby. It was the only way I had to raise the money to pay them off.”
“Pay who off?
“Why aren’t you listening? I told you I don’t know. Sean owed them money, and the bloke said if Sean didn’t pay up they’d come after me for it. He never gave me his name, and I never met him.”
“So why doesn’t Sean pay them?”
“He’s missing.”
“Of course he is.”
“It’s not like that. He’ll come back, but until he does they’re expecting me to come up with the money, or face the consequences. And before you ask, they said no cops.”
“And you didn’t think you could come to me for help?”
Lisa’s laughter veered close to hysteria. “Nobby doesn’t judge me for the choices I’ve made with my life.”
Solomon couldn’t believe Lisa would rely on the likes of Nobby for her own safety, never mind the safety of their daughter. She was a bleedin’ idiot. Solomon knew from bitter experience Nobby never did anything for nothing.
“Now you know why I need it, will you get me the money?”
Solomon shook his head and strode out, slamming the door behind him.
Dan stepped toward the interview room. “Anything?”
“She tells me she needs money, or they'll kill her. Who ‘they’ might be is a mystery.”
“Nothing about who her supplier is?”
“Nothing.” At least nothing he wanted to share. If anyone was going to find out what Nobby had to do with Lisa’s dealing drugs, it would be Solomon, and he’d enjoy every torturous minute of the interrogation.
Dan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I guess we let her sweat it out overnight, and see if she's willing to talk tomorrow. On you go, and collect Molly. Mavis has her up in the canteen.”
Solomon nodded, and strode down the corridor. Nobby would have to wait for now.
Chapter Eight
Daisy reached to switch off the alarm clock, and then turned over to look at Paul. He was laid spread-eagled across the bed. The poor man was worn out. After a week of shift work, guarding the nation’s cash in an armored vehicle, he deserved a sleep in. She caught sight of her bra dangling from the en-suite bathroom door handle, and Paul's boxer shorts tossed over his bedside light. The man was a god in and out of the bedroom.
Paul moved in his sleep, and wrapped an arm around her waist. As much as she would love to stay and cuddle, she needed to get up. It was already after nine, and someone had to make sure their teenage son, Sherman, got to soccer practice on time. Even if Paul wanted to get frisky again—and judging by the extraordinary massage he was giving her without the use of his hands, the man was certainly up for it.
“I've got to get up, baby,” she whispered.
Paul groaned, and kissed her neck. “Me too, beautiful.”
The hand inside her t-shirt slid up her body, but she wiggled out of his grasp and onto her feet, next to the bed. “Bad boy.”
“I wanted to be.”
He made a grab for her, and Daisy giggled. “We can't be wanton whenever we like. We've got responsibilities.”
“Mam?” Their teenage son knocked on the bedroom door.
Paul groaned, and pulled a pillow over his head. “And he wonders why he's an only child.”
Daisy tugged on her robe, leaned over the bed, and kissed Paul's exposed shoulder. “He doesn’t interrupt us having another child, because according to him, we don't have sex.”
“We don't have sex, because he always interrupts.”
Daisy laughed. “How about we book a dirty weekend away, once I solve the case of the missing poodle? Sherman can stay over with Ben, or go to my mam's for a couple of days.”
“Now you're talking my kind of language, beautiful.”
“Mam?” The banging on the door was a little louder.
Daisy crossed the room, and pulled it open.
“Hey,” Paul stage whispered.
Daisy glanced back at her husband.
Paul sat up and covered his lap with a pillow. “Can it be somewhere hot?”
“It can be where ever you want, Paul, but why hot?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “So I can keep you naked all weekend.”
“Ew. God, Dad. Ew! I don't want to be thinking about Mam and you naked all day.”
Paul laughed. “I do.”
Daisy shook her head. “Stop winding Sherman up.” She gave her son a nudge. “Let's go, little man.”
“Mam, I'm fifteen, and six feet tall!”
“You'll always be little to me.” She puckered her lips, and moved toward him.
He backed away and jogged down the stairs.
“Daisy.”
She glanced back at Paul. “Yes, my darling.”
He smiled. “Stop winding Sherman up.”
She laughed, and followed her son to the kitchen.
Sherman went to collect his football kit and boots, while she got busy with breakfast. Once the frying pan was hot, she filled it with enough bacon for the three of them. If Paul didn’t make it downstairs by the time breakfast was ready, she'd take it up to him.
The front door bell sounded, and Daisy cursed under her breath. She glanced at the clock. It was only a quarter past nine. Ben’s dad, Dan Maloney, wasn't due to pick up Sherman until ten. Sherman was out the back, cleaning the dried mud from his boots. If she left the bacon, it would burn. She was the first to admit she was a lousy cook, but she could usually manage to produce a half-decent full English breakfast, if left to her own devices.
The bell rang out again, and she was contemplating turning off the heat and risking having the bacon go soggy, when Paul bounded down the stairs.
He shouted, “I've got it.”
She turned the crispy bacon out onto a plate, and began cracking eggs into the hot pan. The door to the kitchen swung open, and Paul wandered in, wearing a pair of sweat pants low on his hips. Solomon followed behind with Molly in his arms.
Daisy smiled at the little girl, who than
kfully appeared none the worse after her unexpected trip to the police station the day before. “Hey. Hello, angel.” She looked at Solomon. “Did she have breakfast yet?”
Solomon shook his head. “Said she wasn't hungry.”
Sherman opened the back door, and stepped into the already crowded room.
Daisy glanced at Paul. “Babe, go and put a top on. Solomon, why don't you take off your jacket and Molly's coat, and sit at the table? Sherman, if you're ready to go to soccer, apart from eating breakfast, can you make Molly a bowl of cereals? Maybe you can entice her to eat something.”
Everyone did as they were told, and Daisy smiled as she slid the eggs onto the plates. She should have been a sergeant major in the army. Having people follow your orders was heady stuff.
“Do you want breakfast, Solomon?”
“Thanks, but I ate already.”
Paul reappeared, tugging his T-shirt over his head. “Coffee, Solomon?”
“Love one. I didn't get much sleep.”
“Why not?”
Solomon glanced at Molly and raised an eyebrow. Sherman filled a bowl with cereals and milk, and a glass with orange juice for the little girl.
Daisy smoothed her hand over the little girl’s mop of dark curls. “Do you want to go and eat breakfast in the lounge with Sherman?”
Molly buried her face in the front of Solomon’s shirt.
Sherman squatted next to Solomon’s chair. “We can watch cartoons.”
Solomon kissed the top of Molly’s head. “You like cartoons? Why don’t you go and watch telly with Sherman? I’ll come and get you as soon as I’ve had a cup of coffee.”
She lifted her head, and stared up at him. Shadows darkened the skin beneath her huge eyes. “Promise?”
He kissed her on the cheek, and smiled. “I promise.”
Molly slipped from her dad's knee, and padded after Sherman.
Paul put a cup of black coffee in front of Solomon, and poured two more cups for himself and Daisy, while she buttered the toast. After adding a generous dollop of ketchup to Sherman's plate, she delivered his breakfast to the living room. Molly knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, tucking into her cereal. In between mouthfuls, she babbled away to Sherman about the cartoon they were watching.
