Day and Night

by Kaylie Hunter

  I snorted into my coffee. Amanda was only eleven, and Dallas had no understanding of age appropriateness.

  Grady pulled out his phone and as he read his messages his grin vanished. “I need to go handle a few things.” He got up and rinsed his coffee cup. “I’ll see you—” he said to me as he tugged on my chin “—in about an hour. Meet me at the house, so we can talk.”

  I sighed, and he shook his head at me before walking out.

  Goat leaned against the kitchen counter and turned to face me. “I’m not sure what’s going on with you two, but I’ve never seen a man more crazed than when he came to the store yesterday looking for you. He was scared to death that he’d never see you again.”

  I looked back at the door. Grady had been by my side through hell and back. He didn’t deserve for me to keep shutting him out. It was time to face him. Time to face my past. “I’m so tired of running,” I said, walking over to the sink to rinse my cup. I grabbed my shoulder bag and waved to Dallas before walking out.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Returning home, I showered, ate some dry toast, vacuumed the living room, and emptied the dishwasher. Then I sat, watching the clock. Two hours crawled by before Grady walked through the garage door into the house.

  “You waited,” he said, coming over to sit at the dining room table.

  “Were you hoping I wouldn’t?” I asked, honestly.

  Grady sighed again, standing and pulling me up. “First, I am not leaving. Get that through that thick skull of yours.” He leaned down and kissed me, tugging on my lower lip until I opened for him. My body melted into his. When the kiss broke, he looked down at me until I nodded that I understood. I didn’t, not really. I couldn’t. But I knew that at least he thought he meant it.

  “Let’s go to the atrium. Carl wired the main rooms for surveillance.” He tugged at my hand, pulling me with him down the hall and into the atrium.

  I’m not sure why, but I chose to sit on the floor, leaning against the couch with my knees up, tucked against my chest. Grady chuckled and sat beside me.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said, placing a hand on my knee.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “Let me finish,” he said, turning my chin to face him. “I was angry. First, I was angry because once again you wouldn’t tell me what was happening inside that brain of yours. Then I was angry because your mother had watched her only daughter, the woman I love, suffer, and did nothing to stop it.” Grady’s hands tightened into fists, and I felt the anger cascading from him. “I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to hurt your father. I wanted to do something so I wouldn’t feel so damn helpless.”

  “I should’ve told you a long time ago. It would’ve been easier for you if I had.”

  “You should’ve, but because I’ve earned the truth, not because it would’ve changed anything between you and me. That’s what you’re not getting. It doesn’t change how I feel about you. It doesn’t change who you were a year ago or who you are today. It’s your past—not your future.”

  “How can you say that? I was a prostitute at the age of fourteen! I’d wait until Charlie was asleep and walk down to the local bar and wait for johns. I’d pick up extra cash giving handjobs behind the laundromat to the high school boys after school. I was that girl. And everyone knew it.”

  Grady sighed, shaking his head. “You were a fourteen-year-old girl, not old enough to get a job at the local grocery store, yet responsible for not only yourself, but for Charlie too. I should’ve put it together long before you told me. Hell, now that I know, I’m amazed at how far you pulled yourself and Charlie out of that mess. You not only survived it, you fought your way out of that life and became a cop.”

  “I had to find a way.” I rubbed my hand against my constricting chest. “Charlie was getting older. She started questioning where our money came from. I remember the day that my sixth book sold twenty copies in one day. It wasn’t much, but it was hope. Finally, there was a spark at the end of the tunnel. The next day I had twenty-two book sales, and the day after that, twenty-six. I planned another break-in and got lucky that I cashed out enough to keep us afloat for a long while. Then I spent sixteen-hour days, every day, writing. I don’t know what would’ve happened to us if the sales would’ve stopped, but they didn’t. And the light at the end of the damn tunnel was finally bright enough to walk through.”

  Grady wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into the crook of his shoulder. “Explain the stealing,” he said as he leaned in and kissed the side of my head.

  “Not much to tell,” I said as I relaxed against him. “I robbed houses. I didn’t have the skills back then, but I was smart. I knew to wear gloves, secure my hair, and leave everything exactly how it was when I arrived, minus anything that left with me. And because I was my mother’s daughter, I knew something else: knowledge was power. I picked targets who not only had excess funds but also met the horrible-human-being requirements. The gym coach who beat his wife if dinner wasn’t on the table when he was ready to eat. The soccer mom who would leave her toddler at home while she ran out to score pills from her dealer. The farmer who hired illegal immigrants to harvest his fields and paid them a fraction of minimum wage.

  “I watched them, learning where they went, when they were home, what windows they left unlocked. And when I was confident that all the dots lined up, I’d steal whatever cash I could find, or things that were easily turned into cash. I’d take a few grocery items or household goods too, like soap or shampoo, but never enough to be obvious. And then I’d take whatever I could find that would incriminate them. That was the key. That was the part my mother taught me. If I could find something they didn’t want anyone to know, then they wouldn’t report the break-in. And most of the time, I’d find their secrets.”

  “Who was the last person you robbed?”

  “My mother.” I waited a moment before I glanced up at Grady to see if he was grinning too. He was.

  “Please tell me you made it hurt.”

  “My parents had a safe, and I knew the combination. I knew they kept cash in there, though not a lot. But the kicker was, I knew where my mother hid money from my father, and vice versa. Both of them had healthy nest eggs tucked away.”

  “But they would’ve known it was you who broke in.”

  “Sure. But I also took a revolver, the box of love letters my dad had hidden away, and the blackmail files my mother had. Neither of them dared to call the police.”

  Grady chuckled. “What did you do with the letters and the files?”

  “I read a few of the letters, then tucked everything into a plastic tote and buried the mess behind Nana’s shed. I knew they’d come looking for them, and as long as they didn’t find them, I was protected.”

  “And did they come looking?”

  I nodded. “I spotted them sitting in a car down the street two days later. It was a nice day, so I took Charlie to the park. I put the cash and our laptop in a backpack and took the backpack with us. When we came home, it was obvious everything had been searched.”

  “How much cash did you get?”

  I laughed. “Nine thousand, two hundred, and fifty-three dollars. My parents’ lack of trust in each other paid off nicely. Between that money and the book sales, we managed to keep our heads above water until Charlie turned sixteen.”

  “You never had a regular job? Bagging groceries? Waitressing?”

  “Couldn’t. Not in that town at least,” I said, shaking my head. “Between my mother ordering everyone not to help me and half the town knowing how I’d paid the bills for the first two years, no one would hire me.”

  Grady growled. “I hate your mother.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “I’m not her biggest fan either.”

  “You know I still want to kill her.”

  “She’s not worth the jail time.”

  “If you helped me plan it, I wouldn’t get caught.”

  “Or you could send someone for the files,” I
said, looking up at him. “I never looked. I have no idea what’s in there.”

  “Are you sure?” Grady asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “No,” I laughed without humor. “I don’t want to face it. I don’t want everyone knowing what happened. But if you’re right, and she keeps coming after me, I have to protect Nicholas and Charlie.”

  Grady pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket. I wasn’t sure who he was calling, but I trusted him. A minute later, he was talking to someone on the phone. “I need you and Bridget to go dig up buried treasure. Come over to the house, and we’ll give you the details.”

  Grady disconnected the call and tossed the phone on the coffee table.

  “Hello? Anyone home?” a voice called down the hallway.

  “Coming!” I called out as I stood.

  Grady grabbed my hand, preventing me from walking away as he stood. “One more thing,” he said before he kissed me again.

  When he pulled back, I looked up at him and smiled. “Oh, we’re not done talking yet. You haven’t told me what the hell was going on with you yesterday.” I walked to the doorway and looked down the hall to see Steve waiting at the end. “Come on back. Carl has the front rooms wired for sound and video, so we’re hanging out in the atrium.”

  “Am I intruding? I can come back later,” Steve said.

  “It’s fine,” Grady said, walking out to shake his hand. “Hey, Steve. Were you looking for Kelsey or both of us?”

  “My go-to is to talk to Kelsey, but I know she’ll tell you anyway, so you might as well stick around.”

  “Sounds intriguing,” I said, leading us back into the atrium. “What’s up? You have your serious face on. You usually only sport that face when you’re on the job.”

  “Best if I’m not wearing my uniform when I break the rules and repeat what the police chief said yesterday.” Steve sat down on one of the couches, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees.

  “This can’t be good,” Grady said, sitting on the other couch and pulling me down next to him.

  “Spill,” I said.

  “The sheriff in Sadler Creek is stirring up trouble. He called my chief and asked us to keep extra eyes on you and report anything suspicious. Says you’re a person of interest in some crimes up his way.”

  Grady snorted. “Person of interest.”

  “Well, I am an interesting person,” I said, smirking.

  Steve rolled his eyes. “The chief took the request seriously. He knows Dave and I are friends of yours, so he asked us to keep our distance. He plans on having officers patrol, photograph, and document the happenings around here.”

  “But nobody was watching two days ago, right?” I asked.

  “You mean Wednesday, when a call came in saying a woman with multi-colored hair and two guys ran into the woods with guns? Nope. No one was watching with a camera that day, thank goodness. But the chief questioned the call. I told him that you nutjobs were having a paintball war.”

  “Actually, that sounds like fun,” Grady said, turning to grin at me.

  “Right? I’d be game,” I agreed. “You and me against Bones and Donovan?”

  “Katie would want in. I’m sure she could find a partner.”

  “Maybe Whiskey? Or Wayne?”

  “We could set the trainees to go against each other too. The acreage in the east woods would be big enough.”

  “Focus—” Steve said, snapping his fingers out in front of us. “This is a problem.”

  I shrugged, throwing my hands up in frustration. “The sheriff from Sadler Creek is an asshole. He and I have a long, disturbing history. We’ll warn everyone to be careful, but other than that, what do you want me to do?”

  “Why’s he coming after you?”

  “He’s digging,” Grady said. “Her mother filed a custody visitation suit. They’re looking for any dirt they can find to make Kelsey’s life miserable. We’re working on a plan to get rid of them.”

  “Get rid of who?” Bones asked, walking into the room with Bridget.

  “I’ll explain later,” Grady said.

  “You two finish this fun little chat,” I said, nodding between Steve and Grady. “I’ll get Bridget and Bones the shovel and address they need.”

  “And why do they need a shovel?” Steve sighed.

  I laughed and led Bones and Bridget back to the dining room.

  “Are we burying a body?” Bones asked.

  I wrote down Nana’s address and handed it over. “There’s a plastic tote buried behind Nana’s shed. I need it brought back, but it’s not a good idea if I go myself. If Nana’s neighbor, Mr. Webster, comes out and asks what you’re doing, tell him I sent you.”

  “Henry Webster died years ago,” Nana said from the living room couch where she sat knitting. “Heart attack. Died while getting the mail. The political junk mail probably pushed him over the edge.”

  “Shit,” I said, biting my lip. “A new neighbor might call the cops if they see someone digging in your backyard.”

  “No worries. I’m not sure what you buried behind my shed, but there’s not a damn thing anyone can say about me having it dug up. I’ll go with them and check on the house.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, hesitantly. “If you're caught by Mother or the sheriff, they’ll want to know what’s in that tote.”

  “We’ll pretend we’re moving some of Nana’s stuff,” Bridget said. “No way they’ll be able to get a warrant to search the truck. Nana, get a shovel from the garage. Kelsey, get Grady’s truck keys. I’ll grab some empty boxes from the basement.”

  “That’s a good plan,” Nana agreed. “And if anyone asks, we’ll say we dug up some of my daylilies to plant at Kelsey’s.”

  I retrieved Grady’s keys and handed them to Bones, giving him the look, letting him know that I was holding him responsible. He snorted and walked out. Grady and Steve walked into the dining room, laughing. Grady shook Steve’s hand again before Steve waved at me and left.

  “Alone again,” Grady said, wrapping his arms around my waist.

  “Time for part two of our serious talk,” I said, taking his hand and pulling him down the hallway.

  “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  “I need you to explain what happened yesterday. You were avoiding me. And you were fighting with Bones. And nobody would tell me what was going on, though it was obvious they knew.”

  “Is that why you got it in your head that I was breaking up with you?” he asked with his eyebrow cocked.

  I shrugged, sitting at the end of the couch. “You’ve never avoided me before. I figured you’d finally hit your breaking point.”

  Grady laughed, sitting on the couch and pulling me over next to him. “Woman, sometimes you can be so blind it baffles me. Yes, I was avoiding you. But only because I didn’t want you to know what I was up to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you would’ve stopped me.”

  I was confused, but mentally retraced the conversations and events over the last few days. The summons had upset Grady, but he was acting off before that. He had been keeping me away from whatever he was working on. “We’re not talking about my mother, are we?”

  “No.”

  “Chaves?”

  “Yes. I have a plan to deal with him, but Wayne, Bones, and Donovan don’t like it. They wanted me to talk to you, and I told them off.”

  I looked at Grady and studied his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Kill him? That was your master plan?”

  Grady shrugged, the corner of his mouth tipping up.

  “And what about me? And Nicholas? You said you think of Nicholas as your son, and I know damn well he thinks of you as a father figure. Neither one of us would’ve been okay if you were arrested or killed.”

  “I know. But with Chaves dead, the threats would end. We can’t wait around for the next sniper to show up.”

  “Even if I agreed that killing him was the best option—which I don’t—if the guys were against your plan, t
hen your plan sucked.”

  Grady’s grin widened.

  “You were going to wing it?”

  He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back into the couch.

  “Dumbass.” I laughed, slapping his leg. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “To the war room. We need intel. I also haven’t sorted through Sorato’s personal effects yet. We can pick through everything over there.”

  “Sure. They should be done replacing the windows by now.”

  “How many did you break?”

  “All of them.” Grady barked a laugh. “I really hate your mother.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When we arrived at Headquarters, we were told that Bridget had started the redesign on the war room early and had painters upstairs, so we joined Tech in the first-floor conference room. I sat next to Tech and waited for him to look up from his monitor.

  “What?” he asked, grinning over at me.

  “Sorry again for behaving like an ass yesterday and kicking you out of your office.”

  “It’s our office. And Katie has a habit of kicking me out of our apartment, so I’m used to it.”

  “And yet you two are building a house together?”

  “I figure if I build a man cave in the basement, I can put a bed in there for when she’s having her meltdowns,” he said with a smirk.

  “I’ll buy you one of those Murphy beds that looks like a cabinet.”

  “Sweet. That’ll piss her off.”

  Grady chuckled. “I really don’t get you and Katie as a couple.”

  “Fire and ice, man,” Tech said, laughing. “That’s my Katie.”

  Tech pointed to the gym bag Grady had tossed onto the table. “What’ve we got cooking?”

  “Personal effects of Axle Sorato, the goon who was pretending to be a trainee,” Grady answered. “Wayne and Kelsey collected everything, but nobody has filtered through the crap yet.”

  “Does this mean we’re going to come up with a real plan?” Tech asked Grady.