Daddy's Home

by A. K. Alexander

  “Really? You’re not only saying that because you’re my dad’s friend?”

  “Nope. Besides, your father can be a real you-know-what, and if you come to work for me, I’ve got a feeling he’ll be bugging me from here to the moon. That should tell you how much I believe in your capabilities.”

  “He’s been calling you too, huh?”

  “Three times a day trying to get an update on you and what happened. I don’t know how many times I’ve relayed the story.”

  “That makes the two of us. At least I convinced him to stay put on the beach drinking his Mai Tais. For now anyway.”

  They all laughed.

  Chad cleared his throat.

  “Think about that offer, Holly. I know that you’re tired, so rest up and then make a decision. I’ve got a wife waiting for me a few miles up the road, and I promised her a bit of my time, so I’ll get going.”

  “Go, go. Thanks again.”

  “You can thank me by joining my team. Call me when you get home, and we can go over the details.”

  After Tyler left, Chad sat down on the couch next to her, scooting her leg over a bit to make room. He took her hand. “Will you ever forgive me, partner?” he asked.

  “Don’t give it a second thought.”

  “You gonna take his offer?”

  “I’m definitely going to consider it. My dad was a federal agent, you know. I think it’s a good offer. And I’m not sure if I fit with this team anymore.”

  “That’s silly.”

  “No, it’s not, and you know it.”

  Neither one of them said anything for a few moments. Holly was right. Things had changed quite a bit between all of them.

  “So I think we figured out how the messed up DNA got inside Shannon McKay’s body,” Chad said, breaking the tense silence.

  “Darla Monroe or Jennifer Drake put it inside her before she was dead. I figured it out, too. James and Monroe went to play with Shannon earlier in the evening. Monroe knew of Gunter’s plan, even egged him on a bit, always wanting to make her brother happy and do what he wanted and needed. Monroe had sex with James, and then she collected it, which is totally disgusting but it worked. Monroe then stuck James’ semen inside Shannon, probably with a baster. It had Monroe’s menses on it, not Shannon’s. No one was the wiser. Monroe knew her brother would kill the poor woman, and so she planned it in hopes of setting up James and then being able to convince Gunter to be with her.”

  “Wow, you are good. I hadn’t figured out the psychology of it all.”

  “Your girlfriend should have.”

  “That fire has died down.”

  Holly decided not to ask. She honestly didn’t want to know. Besides, if she knew her partner like she thought she did, he’d work it out with the tall blonde. Chad was a sucker when it came to women, and it didn’t take much for a pretty one to keep him under her spell.

  “Um, Holly.”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s something I need to say to you.”

  “What?” She could tell this was serious. He didn’t speak for a minute then took in a long breath.

  “I wanted to say that I love you, you know, I mean that you mean a lot to me, to us—the team, and I hope you stay with the team. We really do need you.”

  She thanked him, but deep inside her she knew there was something else he needed to tell her. What it was, she wasn’t sure, and because it seemed so heavy, she didn’t think she really wanted to know anyway. She’d had enough heaviness to last her a lifetime. Chad would have to carry whatever it was on his own.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  The news of the case was all over the media. CNN had called, and the local channels were ringing the phone off the hook. Greenfield had sent over roses and a letter of apology inviting her back on the team. A letter addressed from Tyler Savoy arrived via certified mail with a formal offer to join the FBI and to start her training at Quantico this coming summer. Everything was happening so fast that Holly was happy to be lying next to Brendan, tucked away in a cabin miles from the one in Mammoth. They were now in Lake Tahoe where the reporters couldn’t find them—all expenses comped by the police department. The FBI had provided the private plane to take them to the undisclosed location. As a precaution, and in order to maintain some privacy, there were security guards stationed in close proximity.

  The girls were asleep, all of them in a pile in the front room before the fireplace while Legally Blonde Two flashed on the television. Meg and Chloe both seemed to find comfort in constant sound around them after what they’d been through. The girls were still coming to terms with the violence they’d encountered in their innocent lives. Brendan went into the front room, shut the TV off, and tucked in the girls.

  Now a precious silence enveloped Brendan and Holly. Holly had wondered only a few days before, as she lay face down in the icy snow about to be raped by a monster, if she would ever know such soothing feelings again.

  “Been through a lot, kid,” Brendan said.

  “I’ll be fine. It’s the girls I’m worried about.”

  “I think they’ll be fine, too. We all have each other. We’ll get through it together.”

  She liked the word together and knew he meant it. “I suppose we will.”

  “Looks like the police force has pulled out all stops to get you back,” he said.

  She laughed. “Yeah, well. They should be kissing my butt. But you know what? I don’t know if I’m going back.”

  “Thinking about taking Tyler Savoy up on his offer?”

  “Just thinking.”

  “Ah, jeez, Holly, I don’t know if I could take you being any more Charlie’s Angels on me.”

  “It’s what I do, Brendan. Well, maybe not exactly with the finesse of Cameron Diaz and her crew, but I want to stay in law enforcement.”

  “I can’t talk you out of it, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  “All right, we’ll table it for now, but I’m not through putting my two cents in, you know.”

  “I figured.”

  Brendan kissed her on the top of her head. “Suppose that is the only place not hurting you,” he said.

  “Maybe a few other places,” she said, a discreet smile on her face.

  “Yeah? Like maybe here?” He kissed her nose. She nodded. “And here?” Her cheek, her eyelids, and then her lips.

  Their game went on for quite some time as a fire grew between them. Holly found herself wanting him more than she’d ever wanted any man. The guilt of that desire almost made her stop as Jack’s face appeared in her mind. Go away, would you?

  “What’s the matter?” Brendan asked.

  “Nothing. Kiss me again.”

  He did. Pulling away, he looked at her in a way that warmed Holly to the inner core. He was so tender and sweet. She was in love, and there was no denying it. She took the initiative, surprising the both of them, and climbed on top of Brendan, making love to him fiercely, ignoring all her aches and pains, reveling in the pleasure of the moment as she rocked them both to ecstasy.

  When it was over, they both inhaled deeply, neither one of them saying a word, not ever wanting to lose this moment.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Holly poured herself a second glass of Syrah, tasting the full-bodied grape flavor. She was tasting, smelling, hearing, touching anything and everything as if it were the first time. If the past couple of days had taught her something, it was that life was too short, and it was to be enjoyed. She was elated to be back in the comfort of her own house. With Christmas just a few days away, the reporters had gone on to do holiday-related stories. Hers had been told, and now was time for cheer, which suited Holly just fine.

  She turned up the stereo and hummed along to the music of Ella Fitzgerald. It felt so good to be alive. It felt passionate. That was what Holly was feeling—passionate about the wine, the music, and even the onion she was busy chopping, preparing a romantic dinner for just herself and Brendan. Tomorrow night would be the big shindig, a
pre-Christmas celebration dinner with Chad, Brooke, Maureen, Landon, and even Robb Carpenter. Holly was ready to let bygones be bygones, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to go back to work with the department. More and more, the idea of working for the FBI was becoming extremely attractive. It would mean a step up. And Holly had to face it; things had changed between her and Chad. Although she knew that what he’d done by going over her head and having her removed from the team was the right thing for her, there was an issue of trust now broken. Once that trust between partners and friends was gone, it could ever be the same. Not really.

  She glanced up at the clock. Brendan should be arriving in a half hour. It didn’t give her much time. The girls were all over at his house, and the two of them would be having dinner together alone. She couldn’t help but look forward to where the night would likely end up. The thought of being in his arms was an exciting prospect.

  Chopping, humming, swaying, and sipping Holly was lost in her dreams when Petie suddenly started barking wildly from the other room.

  “Petie,” she rang out. “Hush! What is it?”

  Brendan must be early. She peered through the peephole on her front door. Maureen? All Holly could see was the back of a bushy red head. Maybe she got her night confused. She opened the door and started to say her colleague’s name when the woman turned around, gun pointed straight at her.

  It was not Maureen.

  Holly took a step back. It was Darla Monroe.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” the one-time blonde said.

  “I’d rather not,” Holly replied.

  “Well, honey, looks like you don’t have much of a choice.” Darla shoved Holly out of the way. “Nice place you got here. Why don’t you be a good girl and close the drapes for me? We don’t need any pesky neighbors seeing that we’re having a party over here, do we?”

  Holly nodded and went to work closing the drapes, her little dog still going berserk.

  “Shut that fucking rat thing up before I blow its brains out!”

  “Petie, hush! Come here.” Petie ran to Holly with his tail tucked between his legs. She scooped him up.

  “I don’t know if you want to do that. You might want to lock him away considering I am going to blow your fucking brains out. Unless you want to take the dog with you.”

  Okay, keep her talking. Keep her talking. Brendan will be here soon. “Follow me. I’ll put him in here,” Holly said and walked down the hall to her office where she locked Petie into the room.

  “Into the bathroom.” Darla pointed the gun at her.

  Holly didn’t like the sound of this. She showed her to the bathroom.

  “Turn around.”

  Holly did and faced the bathtub of her small Nantucket-style bathroom.

  Darla reached into her suede-coat pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “These come in real handy. Multi-purpose deal. Great for sex games and for dealing with bitches like you. Gunter always liked handcuffs. We had a lot of fun with them through the years.” She snapped them shut over Holly’s wrists.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I don’t? Yes, I do. Now get in, and sit down.”

  Holly stepped into the bathtub. If she could just kick her . . . But Darla had her positioned so that it was nearly impossible. Her hope was that she would play along and Brendan would arrive soon. But Brendan didn’t have a gun either. He might wind up getting hurt or killed himself. Holly had to think quick. Darla proceeded to tie her ankles together into a very tight knot. Holly didn’t realize that the woman was so strong. She then placed a strip of masking tape over her mouth.

  “Now you get to listen to me.”

  This ought to be good.

  “You murdered my one and only love. Oh, sure, many would say that what we had together was sick, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all. Gunter loved me. He did. And I loved him.” Darla reached over Holly’s head and turned the spigot on. “Ooh, nice freezing water. The kind you killed my Gunter in. You destroyed any chance of us ever being together, and now you’re going to pay with your life.” With that Darla brought her arm back and swung hard, hitting Holly on the side of her head with her gun.

  Holly’s head bobbled and she fell to the side of the tub. Everything was hazy, but she wasn’t completely knocked out. Not yet.

  Hang on, just hang on. She had to fake unconsciousness for a chance at staying alive. But what then? She was exhausted, shackled, and near blacking out. She was feeling very woozy and bile rose in the back of her throat. This was not good. The water was getting higher. As she started sinking into the water, she thought she heard Darla say, “Who the hell are you?” But it was so distant that she wasn’t sure anyone was saying anything. It was like being in between dreaming and waking up, fuzzy and confusing, and Holly felt she was going deeper into the dream state.

  “Leave me alone!” Darla screamed. “You’re always ruining everything! I knew you’d come back! I just knew it! How did you find me?”

  “Turn it off, Jennifer. Turn the water off and let her go. Don’t ruin your life. They’re gone now. You don’t have to pretend anymore. You’re not like them. You’re good. Please, Jennifer. Daddy and Gunter are gone. You can get over this. Turn the water off.”

  A woman’s voice. Who was it? Who was Darla Monroe talking to? Jennifer? Darla Monroe was Jennifer Drake. Who was the other woman? Was Holly dreaming? Was she dead? Where was Brendan?

  “You never understood. You never will,” Darla yelled. “You weren’t one of us. You hated us because we loved each other, and the only one who ever loved you was that bitch mother of ours.”

  “She was the only good one. And you’re right, she did love me, and I loved her very much. But you don’t have to be like them. You don’t have to be like Daddy and Gunter. Please put the gun down, turn the water off, and leave. Go! You don’t want to kill her. Think of all the horrible things they did to you. That wasn’t love, Jennifer. It wasn’t. It was cruel and hurtful. Gunter did not love you and neither did Daddy. They couldn’t love anyone. Please, please don’t do this.”

  Crying. Darla Monroe, or whoever she was, was crying.

  Then the other woman was screaming, “No, Jennifer! No, don’t do it!” A loud bang.

  Crying of a different kind. Water covering Holly’s face. Was she dead? Was this what it was like to be dead? Had Darla Monroe shot her, and who in the hell was the other woman?

  Someone lifting her. Water not running anymore. Her face out of the water.

  “What the hell?” She heard Brendan yelling.

  “Call an ambulance, please! Call an ambulance. I didn’t do this. I really didn’t,” the other woman said.

  Seconds, minutes, hours later, Holly wasn’t sure, she was being lifted onto a gurney and prodded with needles.

  “Looks like she got hit pretty hard.”

  “I’m okay,” Holly muttered.

  “Holly?” It was Brendan.

  “What happened?” She opened her eyes. Brendan stood over her, a concerned look in his eyes.

  “You got thunked on the head by a lunatic, that’s what happened to you.”

  “No. I know that. Who was the other woman in the room?” As Holly asked, a woman of about thirty approached them and looked down at Holly on the gurney.

  “I’m Kimberly Drake. I’m sorry about this.”

  “Kimberly Drake? You’re . . .” Holly said.

  “Yes, I’m Gunter Drake’s sister, and the woman who did this to you was our sister, Jennifer Drake.”

  “Darla Monroe.”

  Kimberly nodded as tears came to her eyes. “Yes.”

  “What happened?” Holly asked again.

  “She shot herself,” Brendan replied.

  Holly knew by the look in Kimberly Drake’s eyes that her sister was dead. “I’m . . . sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Maybe now I can let it all go and leave everything behind. I’m the one who sent you the photograph of my family. I was set to leave for France when I did tha
t, but something pulled me back. Against all that I ever wanted to do, I came out here. By the time I arrived and had the courage to track you down, the fiasco with my brother had already taken place. But I knew deep down it wasn’t over. Nothing with Gunter was ever over. I had hoped I could find my sister and track her down before she came here. I looked everywhere. Then I decided to come and speak to you tonight and warn you that revenge is huge in my family. That you were in danger. I got lucky when I saw my sister’s car out front. At least I hoped it might be her car. The plates said ‘Godiva’ on it, and everyone in my family always called her Lady Godiva because of her long blonde hair. It made her feel special. I didn’t think . . . I just walked into your house, knowing she was inside and that something bad was going to happen.”

  Holly smiled and took her hand. “I understand.”

  “Okay folks, we need to get her to the hospital and checked out,” the EMT said.

  “Will she be okay?” Kimberly asked.

  “She should be.”

  “My girl is tough,” Brendan said. “She can take a lump on the head.” He stroked back Holly’s hair. His look didn’t match his words.

  “I’m fine. I’ll be okay. You’re right, I’m plenty tough.”

  “Would you like me to go to the hospital?” Kimberly asked.

  “No, please. Don’t worry about me. Thank you for saving my life. The best thing you could do for me is to go and catch that plane to France.”

  Kimberly Drake leaned over her and said, “Thank you for saving my life, too. If you get a postcard from a Karen Whitley, just know that’s me.” She smiled.

  And that was the last Holly saw of Kimberly Drake.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  It was all behind them now. Gunter Drake was dead. Jennifer Drake a.k.a. Darla Monroe was also dead. Kimberly Drake had moved to the French Riviera to put her childhood and the horrid memories behind her once and for all. Holly took in a deep breath as she reflected on the past few days, where she’d survived death more than once.

  She had one more item to take care of before she could really move forward. She picked up the phone and placed the call.