“I made a call, and I think everything’s going to work out.”
“With the dagger?”
She nodded. “And Sir Neville.”
Ignoring the pain, he gave her a proud grin. “Excellent work, detective.”
Chapter Fifty-One
The next day Parker was ready to get off the IV and onto solid foods, and that evening he took his first walk around the hall, though it was a painful trip with his bruised ribs. Miranda liked that he had to lean on her, even if he acted as if he didn’t need to.
Sir Neville and Lady Davinia came to visit to thank them for all they’d done.
While Sir Neville stayed in the room with Parker, Davinia took Miranda aside and told her everything. Including the news that she and Neville had made amends and had returned the dagger to the museum.
Miranda smiled at the understated way she summed up the two monumental events.
Neville, of course, wouldn’t press charges, Davinia told her. They weren’t sure yet what action the police would take, though. Miranda secretly hoped Inspector Wample had had enough of this case.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked as they strolled past the nurses’ station.
Davinia turned to her with her regal air. “Lionel’s going abroad. He says he needs to get away to pick up the pieces of his life.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t expected to hear that.
“He’s talking about opening another real estate office in Madrid. It will keep him busy.”
“I guess it will.” She dared to ask the real question. “What about you and Neville?” Could they make it work?
Davinia’s look turned wistful. “We’re planning a new life, too.”
“Really?”
Her eyes grew intense. “I’m tired of my status. The flower shows, the royal regattas, the dinner parties. I’m sick to death of it. Every bit of it.”
That was a shocker. Miranda had thought it was her life.
Davinia took Miranda’s hands in hers. “If all works out, if I’m freed of the charges, Neville and I are going away.”
“Away?”
She nodded. “He’s going to give up his position and hand the museum over to George. And we’re going to travel.”
Miranda had to blink at that. “To where?”
“Everywhere. Paris. Rome. Athens. The excavation sites in Alexandria. We want to see every relic, every painting, every work of art the world has ever produced. It will take us the rest of our lives just to make a start, but….Oh, Ms. Steele. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
Miranda was stunned. But she finally thought she understood Davinia. “And what Sir Neville wanted, too.”
“Yes. He’s delighted with the plan. After all our recent sorrow, all the pain we put each other through, I simply can’t believe we can be so happy.”
Miranda squeezed the lady’s hands, knowing she might be in the presence of true nobility. And that she was honored to be a part of setting things straight for this couple. For these friends.
“I’m happy, too,” she told her. “For both of you.”
Two days later, the hospital released Parker and they decided to head home. The flight would be dicey but it would be awhile before he was fully healed and Parker was anxious to get back.
As they left the hospital, the British newshounds accosted them, demanding a story. They wanted to know details about what had happened with Scorpion, the return of the dagger, how as an American he felt about the crime rate in Britain.
Miranda nearly told them all to go to hell but Parker managed a dignified, “No comment.” Then they got into a cab and headed for Heathrow, while Big Ben rang out for the last time.
For this trip anyway.
Chapter Fifty-Two
They were home. Time to get back to normal and get Parker back to health.
But after a couple days of playing mother hen and nursemaid to him, Parker kicked Miranda out of the house and told her to take some time for herself. He would have told her to go shopping but that only would have gotten him a dirty look.
Instead, since the kids were out of school, she called Mackenzie and asked if the girl wanted to go for a run in Chastain Park.
As they jogged together over the rolling red clay path, the smell of wisteria and Georgia pines in the warm summer air, Miranda thought how good it was to be back in Atlanta. The place she now thought of as home. The place where she had people she thought of as family.
They trotted along slowly since they were still both supposed to be recuperating from old injuries, while Miranda told her daughter about what London was like and the less violent parts of the case.
“That sounds interesting,” Mackenzie said as they curved around a duck pond. “I might become a detective some day.”
Miranda had to look away and pretended to concentrate on a preening goose near the water. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that idea. “You mean it?”
The girl just shrugged. “I’m just toying with the thought.”
“Sure.” Of course.
Kids imagined themselves in twenty different careers before they settled on one. Or life made the choice for them. There was plenty of time to think about it. Mackenzie was only fourteen.
When they reached the other side of the pond they slowed to a walk to cool down, and their conversation turned to skating and Wendy and the upcoming Atlanta Open.
Mackenzie wiped her brow with her towel. “Wendy’s sit spins are getting better. I think she’s got a real chance at finaling.”
“That’s great.” Miranda couldn’t help breaking out in a smile. They’d both be proud of her.
They passed a man walking a big white dog. After he was gone Miranda stopped and faced her daughter. “Mackenzie, I want to say something to you.”
Her dark brows drew together in that ultra-serious adult look. “What is it?”
“Before I left for London, you mentioned something to me....”
“What?”
Didn’t she remember? “About finding your father.”
“Oh, that.” She turned her head and studied a nearby willow tree. “What about it?”
“Well.” Miranda hesitated.
She wasn’t sure how to say it, but she thought of the promises she and Parker had made to each other. No more lying. No more hiding things from each other. And what was good for the goose and the gander, was good for the goose and her chick.
“I want to say I wasn’t completely honest that day.”
Mackenzie turned back her, eyes glowing. With expectation or anger Miranda couldn’t tell. “What do you mean?”
Miranda took a deep breath, sucked up her nerves and spat it out. “I don’t know if I could find your father. Maybe I could. The truth is....I don’t want to find him. I don’t want you to know him. He’s a criminal. Probably rotting in prison somewhere.” She hoped. “But it doesn’t matter what he is or was. You’re your own person. You don’t have to worry about him. You’re going to make your own life.”
Mackenzie stared at her as if she couldn’t understand where all that had come from. But her deep eyes glistened with tears.
Finally she swiped at her cheek and shook her head. “That’s okay, Mother. I told you before I understand. I really do.” Smiling mostly to herself, she looked at the running path. “C’mon. I think I can go a little farther. And I want to tell you about this guy.”
“Guy?”
But Mackenzie had already taken off and Miranda had to gather herself quick and catch up to her. “What guy?” she asked when she did.
“I met him in biology class last year. He’s been hanging around the skating rink. I think he’s cute.”
“Cute, huh?”
“I kind of think he likes me.”
Uh oh. She wondered what Mackenzie’s adoptive mother was going to say to this.
As she listened to her daughter describe the young fellow and the sound of their running shoes pounding against the red clay, Miranda decided the adventure of parent
hood might turn out to be more harrowing than facing down a shopful of killers.
Feeling happier and more carefree than she had in months Miranda pulled her car into the drive and hurried up the walkway to the massive front door of the Parker estate.
She’d dropped Mackenzie off at home and now she was back at the big house in Mockingbird Hills. Home. Even though it didn’t seem so big now after the museum and all the castles she’d been to. It might even be taking on a homey look. She liked that.
Humming a tune, she stepped inside and smiled at the familiar entrance hall with its not-so-huge crystal chandeliers and its not-so-ancient marble tile. She hurried to the mahogany staircase.
Parker should be napping in bed. Time to check on him and fuss at him if he wasn’t.
As she took the first step, her cell buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket. Text message. Was he turning motherly now and checking on her? She began to read.
Her whole body went cold as she froze on the step.
I know where you are.
What the hell? She’d gotten almost the same message right after their last case. Like that one, this was anonymous. What did it mean?
Stalker was her first thought. She should tell Parker. They should look into it.
Then she shook her head. She’d been on the news. People as far away as London knew who she was. This was a prank. Or maybe someone wanting money. Somebody looking for notoriety or fortune on someone else’s coattails.
“Miranda?” she heard Parker call from upstairs.
She hesitated on the steps. No more lying. No more hiding things from each other.
If she told Parker about this, he’d only worry and he needed to rest. She wasn’t going to do that to him. She wasn’t going to spoil their evening together because of some jerk who just wanted attention.
“Coming,” she called out.
This didn’t count. She deleted the message, shoved the phone back into her pocket and hurried up the stairs.
She couldn’t wait to give her he-man a great big welcome home kiss.
THE END
Thank you for reading Heart Wounds, the second Miranda and Parker mystery.
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More Books by Linsey Lanier
THE MIRANDA’S RIGHTS MYSTERY SERIES
Someone Else’s Daughter – Book I
Delicious Torment – Book II
Forever Mine – Book III
Fire Dancer – Book IV
Thin Ice – Book V
THE MIRANDA AND PARKER MYSTERY SERIES
All Eyes on Me
Heart Wounds
Look for the next mystery later in 2014.
OTHER BOOKS BY LINSEY LANIER:
Chicago Cop (A cop family thriller) – Don’t let them take what you love, baby girl. A police thriller featuring GUTS team lead Lieutenant Maggie Delaney, a tough multi-generational cop hunting down a crazed mafia hit man bent on revenge.
Steal My Heart (A Romantic Suspense) – Get me what I want or you’ll never see your daughter again. New York newspaper columnist, Paige Dunbar, can hardly breathe when she learns her precious three-year-old daughter has been kidnapped. She’ll do anything to get her back, including steal the famous Fantasia necklace the kidnapper wants. No one can stop her. Not even her sexy ex-jewel-thief-ex-husband.
HUMOROUS BOOKS BY LINSEY LANIER
You Want Me to Kill Who? (A Dandy Frost—Ninja Assassin Story)
A New Adult, futuristic romantic fantasy.
A lowly, powerless factory worker is sent half-way around the world by her boss to fight an evil spy organization, but she really just wants to be a fashion designer.
You Want Me to Go Where? (A Dandy Frost—Ninja Assassin Story) #2
Her first time in JB’s office her boss threatened to “eliminate” Dandy Frost if she didn’t go on a special assignment halfway around the world for a secret organization. He couldn’t have anything like that in mind again…or could he?
The Clever Detective Boxed Set 2 (A Fairy Tale Romance): Stories 1-5
From the Hollow Tree to Stacey’s home town to the mountains of Sweden to the high seas, follow PI Stacey Alexander and Prince Chad’s wacky adventures and romance.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Writing fiction for over fifteen years, Linsey Lanier authored more than a dozen novels and short stories, including the popular Miranda’s Rights Mystery series. She writes romantic suspense, mysteries, and thrillers with a dash of sass.
She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Kiss of Death chapter, and Private Eye Writers of America. Her books have been nominated in several RWA-sponsored contests.
Living outside a major city with her husband of over two decades, Linsey enjoys watching crime shows with him and trying to figure out “who-dun-it.”
She’s always working on a new book, currently books in the new Miranda and Parker Mystery series (a continuation of the Miranda’s Rights Mystery series). For alerts on her latest releases join Linsey’s mailing list at linseylanier.com.
Excerpts
If you missed the Miranda’s Rights Mystery series, below is an excerpt from Book I, Someone Else’s Daughter where Miranda first goes to work for the Parker Agency—and gets into all sorts of trouble.
Someone Else’s Daughter: Book I (A Miranda’s Rights Mystery) — Excerpt
She could make it to the trees. She was too far away for him to catch up now.
It started to rain. A soft rain. The kind, somebody had told her, that often came up in Georgia without warning. Beneath her, the ground sloped steeply as the grass grew wet. She slipped, tried to stifle a yelp, but it escaped her lips.
The cop heard her. His light found her. “Stop,” he yelled.
Man, she was having a bad night.
But the rain slowed him down, too. She could hear him grunting and cussing behind her as he struggled down the slippery incline. She reached the bottom and the land became flat again. Almost there. She sprinted across a patch of grass to the first clump of trees. Hesitating, she stopped to catch her breath.
The bright moon cast an eerie glow on the rocks and wild growth. She’d never liked wooded areas. She thought about murders in the forest preserves where she’d grown up. She thought of stories she’d heard about snakes in the Georgia woods. She glanced behind her.
The cop’s light bobbed about halfway down the hill.
No choice. Gritting her teeth, she braced herself and stepped into the tall grass. Her foot went down on a squishy surface of pine straw and matted grass, a twig snapped, but it held. She took another step, reached out and felt tree bark in front of her. She sidestepped and moved around it. The ground was uneven and muddy. The drizzling rain fell against the leaves with a sound like soft cymbals. The air smelled cool and freshly washed. Brush tangled around her shins. Her hair and clothes were wet, but she couldn’t think about that now.
She looked back again, could barely make out the cop. That meant he couldn’t see her, either. She’d done it. She’d escaped. But he’d be hunting her in these woods soon. Probably call out the cavalry, too. Maybe she could make it to the other side. It was part of a subdivision, after all. She couldn’t remember the layout of the forest from her map.
Better move faster. She took a quick step, then another. Found a spot where the trees opened up. She started to sprint. Wrong move. Something caught her foot. Down she went. She tried to catch herself on a tree, but her hand scrapped
across its bark. Her palms skidded across the muddy ground.
Damn. She didn’t need this now. What had she’d tripped over? She brushed her hair out of her eyes, hoping she hadn’t landed on a slithering snake.
Then she froze.
Inches away from her face, lay a shape. A familiar shape. She stared at it, her breath coming in snatches. Was she hallucinating? It looked like a kid’s sneaker. Peeking out from a pile of wet twigs and pine straw, like it had been lost there. Or buried. She reached out and whisked away some of the debris covering it.
Her chest tightened. The sneaker had a foot in it.
She got to her knees to sweep off more dirt. An ankle. A sock. A hem of denim. Oh, God. It was a leg. A human leg. She found the other sneaker. She was shaking all over by now.
Her heart choking her throat, she crawled to the side of what she now realized was a mound. Desperately she shoved away the muck and grimy pine straw, the dreck someone had used to…she couldn’t even think it…to bury someone?
Two legs appeared under her hands, clad in a pair of designer jeans. The type hip young girls liked to wear. She kept going and found the bottom hem of a fancy, girlish T-shirt. Then two young hands…tied with thick rope, clasped together as if in prayer. Oh, God. This couldn’t be happening. Tears burned her eyes. She couldn’t stop herself. Madly, she brushed away the rest of the dirt, and at last, the face appeared. Young. Pretty. More than pretty. Beautiful. And perfectly still.
Dead.
Miranda’s mind reeled. This was the missing girl everyone was talking about. This was Madison. Had to be. But how did she get here?
Her whole body shuddering, she put her hands to her head. She had seen death before, knew the look of a body in a casket. An uncle she barely knew who’d passed away when she was a child, a fallen officer who’d been a buddy of Leon’s, her own mother lying so still in her coffin with her hard, stony face. But she’d never seen death like this.
So close, so stark, so…undeniable.
The air had a dank smell. Long, dark hair lay damp and matted on the ground. Gnats and flies buzzed around the swollen face, glistening with the raindrops that fell on it. Instead of a childlike expression of innocence, there was the whisper of a smile. An air of superiority, as if she had felt far above whoever had left her this way.
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