Chain of Custody (Holding The Line Book 2)

by Carol Ericson

  Her nostrils flared. “How’d you find us here?”

  “I know you think Jaycee’s a bad mom for leaving Wyatt like that, but she had a good reason and she had every intention of keeping tabs on him.” With his eyes on the gun pointed at his head, Brett inched up a little farther to lean against the crib, where Wyatt had awoken and was now crying.

  Brett pointed to the car seat in the corner. “Jaycee had put a GPS tracker on the bottom of Wyatt’s car seat. Wh-when she didn’t show up at our meeting place, I tracked the car seat. I thought maybe I’d find her, too, but when I saw you two instead of Jaycee, I made my move. Can you blame me?”

  Nash growled deep in his throat. “Yeah, I can blame you. If you were meeting Jaycee and you knew she was tracking Wyatt, you must’ve realized who I was.”

  “Yeah, the great Nash Dillon.” Brett hacked up some blood, spit it in his palm and wiped it on the thigh of his jeans. “I told Jaycee it was a bad idea to leave Wyatt with the cops, but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “Why would that be a bad idea if you’re so concerned with the safety of your son?” Emily sounded like she was interrogating a suspect, but she did ease off on her aim.

  “Because of this.” Brett waved a bony hand around the room. “Because you’re not just gonna let me have Wyatt, are you? You’re gonna play by the rules. I warned Jaycee that her old friend would turn on her in a minute if he thought she was breaking the law.”

  Emily said, “We don’t even know if you’re the father.”

  Brett hit the back of his head against the crib. “Can someone shut him up?”

  “Your concern for Wyatt is touching.” Nash held up his hands. “I’m going to wash my hands and see to Wyatt. Don’t take your gun off him.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m on it.”

  As Nash washed his hands, Brett blabbed on about cops and Jaycee and his son but never once mentioned Jaycee’s murder. Did he know?

  When Nash returned to the room, he tossed two towels at Brett, a wet one and a dry one. Then he picked up a sniffling Wyatt and rocked him in his arms. “It’s okay, buddy.”

  “Finally.” Brett wiped the blood from his face and hands and held the towel against his nose.

  Emily threw Nash a side glance and he dipped his chin.

  She cleared her throat. “Do you know where Jaycee is?”

  Brett peered at her over the blood-streaked towel. “No. We were supposed to meet in Mexico, and she never showed up. I tried contacting her on her burner phone, but she never responded. That’s when I launched the app and the code she gave me for tracking Wyatt. When I saw him here in Tombstone, I made a move.”

  Emily lowered her gun. “I hate to tell you this, Brett, but Jaycee is dead.”

  “What? No.” Brett shook his shaggy head back and forth. “She can’t be. She was supposed to meet me in Mexico. We were going to come for Wyatt together.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s true.” Nash patted Wyatt’s back as the baby wriggled in his arms. It was as if Jaycee’s son had understood what he said.

  “Oh, God.” Brett buried his face in the towel and muffled cries escaped from the edges. His head popped up, and he said, “It was Marcus Lanier that killed her. I can guarantee that.”

  Nash studied Brett’s face smeared with dried blood. If he’d been crying real tears, the blood would be running down his face again. “How do you know Jaycee was murdered? Emily didn’t say anything about that. It could’ve been a car accident.”

  Brett’s wild eyes shifted to Emily. “Was it?”

  “It was murder.” Emily slipped her gun into the side pocket of her purse hanging on her body and crossed her arms. “But what made you think that right away?”

  “She was being threatened. She told me two cartel guys came by the apartment. She figured Lanier sent them.” Brett hunched his narrow shoulders. “That’s why she went on the run, and that’s why she left Wyatt with you.”

  With Wyatt nestled in the crook of his arm, Nash sank to the edge of the bed. “What do you know about Lanier? Why would he be after Jaycee? Why would he want her dead?”

  “You should know that.” Brett swiveled his head between Nash and Emily. “When I told you I was Wyatt’s father to stop your attack, you said I wasn’t Marcus Lanier. So, you know Lanier thinks he’s Wyatt’s father.”

  “But he’s not?” Emily’s fingers dug into her flesh.

  “I’m Wyatt’s father.”

  Emily drilled two fingers into her temple and closed her eyes. “Why would Lanier want to claim paternity for Wyatt? He’s a married man. Wouldn’t it be much easier for him to give up his parental rights when another man is on the scene claiming his paternity?”

  “He thinks he’s Wyatt’s father because Jaycee told him he was. They hooked up several times, so it’s possible.”

  “Let me guess.” Nash ground his back teeth together. “Jaycee told Lanier he was the father so she could blackmail him. Am I on the right track? Get some cash out of the guy?”

  “That’s about right.” Brett blew his nose on the towel. “You probably know Jaycee better than I do. She told me how your sister was her best friend in high school, and they’d get into all kinds of trouble.”

  A muscle throbbed in Nash’s jaw. “If that’s true, you two were playing a dangerous game.”

  “If that’s true—” Emily strolled to the sliding door to the patio, still standing open in the sultry evening, and then spun around to face Brett “—why not just call off the attack dogs? Why not tell Lanier the truth? If he were coming after Jaycee and Wyatt, it’s obvious he wasn’t going to pay up.”

  “I told Jaycee to come clean with him. I told her we weren’t going to get anything out of him.” Brett bunched the towel in his fists.

  “And?” Nash switched a fussy Wyatt from one arm to the other.

  “She wouldn’t listen to me. She said even if Lanier got a paternity test, she had a couple of their hookups on video and she was going to threaten to go to his wife.”

  “Wait a minute.” Emily paced around the room again. “If you believe the two cartel guys who paid a visit to Jaycee before she fled Phoenix were working for Lanier, why didn’t they just kill Jaycee then and snatch Wyatt?”

  “Are you a cop, too?”

  A blush washed across Emily’s face, and she put a hand to her throat. “It doesn’t matter what I am. You said two thugs went to Jaycee’s apartment, and you implied that these guys worked for Lanier. If that’s the case, they already believed Wyatt was their boss’s baby. They would’ve had orders then, but didn’t do anything. Instead, they left her and the baby alone and put a tracker on her car, just like Jaycee tracked Wyatt and his car seat.”

  “I’m supposed to understand the mind of a criminal?” Brett jabbed a thumb at his scrawny chest, which had junkie written all over it.

  “In fact—” Emily grabbed a handful of Brett’s dirty T-shirt and yanked him to his feet “—those criminals seemed a lot more interested in you than Wyatt. Why is that, Brett?”

  Brett’s eyes widened to the point that his whites surrounded his dark irises. “How do you know that?”

  “I was bugging that apartment. I saw all kinds of things.” She drilled her finger into his chest. “Those two guys wanted you.”

  “I don’t know why they’d want me instead of Jaycee.” He brushed at his shirt where she’d poked him. “But thanks for the tip. Maybe they figured a mother wouldn’t use her kid like that, so they thought I was the mastermind.”

  “Mastermind.” Nash rolled his eyes. “We can go around and around all night with this. We’ll let the police do their investigation into Jaycee’s murder, and we’ll let the Department of Child Safety and the family court decide who is Wyatt’s father and where he belongs.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Brett shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You’re turning
my kid over to the system?”

  “I sure as hell am not turning him over to you.” Nash cuddled Wyatt closer against his chest.

  “It’s late and Wyatt needs to get back to sleep.” Emily flicked her fingers at Brett. “Get out. If you are Wyatt’s father and you want to raise him as your own, you can go through the proper channels.”

  Brett shoved out his hand. “My knife.”

  Nash snorted. “Now you’re the one who’s kidding. Leave, and if you make any more attempts to take Wyatt, I’ll kill you.”

  Brett swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his skinny neck. “You’ll see. I’m that baby’s father and he’ll wind up with me—where he belongs.”

  Emily strode to the front door and flung it open.

  Brett backed up through the door, as if he didn’t trust them not to jump him. Nash grimaced. The guy wasn’t as dumb as he looked.

  Emily clicked the door shut after him and locked the dead bolt. “Cora needs a chain on this door. He broke in too easily.”

  She tiptoed to the bed. “How’s our boy?”

  “He’s almost out. After the commotion, he sensed the tension. It drained him.”

  “But you calmed him down.” She tilted her head. “You’re good with him. Do a lot of your friends have babies?”

  “Almost none.” Nash rose from the bed and settled Wyatt on the crib mattress, holding his breath. “It’s kind of like soothing a horse.”

  “Not quite.”

  “And you know that how, city girl?”

  “He’s a baby, not a horse.”

  “Thanks for that.” Nash scratched his chin. “What do you think about Brett’s story?”

  “I’m going to shut this sliding door before I tell you.” She made good on her promise and yanked the drapes across the glass. “He’s full of it. Did you notice his crocodile tears over Jaycee?”

  “I did. He made a quick recovery. But the story about the blackmail?” He picked up a tortilla chip left over from their dinner and crunched it between his teeth. “That’s pure Jaycee.”

  “Maybe that’s why Lanier hired me and then wasn’t too upset when I told him those two characters were after Wyatt. He could’ve even figured out at that point that Wyatt was Brett’s son and washed his hands of the whole affair.”

  “Until Jaycee came back at him with her videos and more demands.”

  “Until then.”

  “If that’s what went down, then the two cartel guys really were looking for Brett and figured Wyatt was his kid.”

  “Did they find Jaycee first and try to use her to get Brett to cooperate?”

  “If so, that attempt failed. Brett didn’t take the bait and they killed Jaycee.”

  Emily hugged her purse to her chest. “I’m going to sleep with this right next to me in case Brett gets the bright idea to come back.”

  While he wished Emily would show as much desire to sleep with him as her gun, he crouched before the little safe in the room, where he’d stowed his own weapon. “I’ve got my bedmate right here.”

  Emily raised her eyebrows. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

  Placing his gun on the nightstand on the left side of the bed, he chuckled. “I guess that’s what happens when you get two cops together.”

  She opened her mouth, grinned and then snapped it shut. As she unzipped her suitcase, she asked, “What do you think he wanted with Wyatt? He barely looked at him.”

  “Yeah, I find it hard to believe he has any strong feelings for his son...or his son’s mother.” He stretched out on the bed and clasped his hands behind his head. “That’s a mystery, but I’m sure he’s up to no good. You take the bathroom first and I’ll put the TV on low.”

  When Emily retreated to the bathroom, Nash watched images flicker across the TV, but his ears were attuned to every sound from the other room as Emily ran the water and brushed her teeth.

  Brett had interrupted a moment between him and Emily that Nash had been anticipating for quite a while, but maybe Brett had provided a warning. Nash and Emily had been so into each other, they’d missed Brett breaking into the room. They had a responsibility to that little boy. They had to get him safely to DCS...and Jaycee’s relatives.

  Nash kicked off his flip-flops and dragged a pillow into his lap, crushing it against his chest. He remembered Jaycee’s mother all too well. That woman had no business raising a child. And the possible fathers? Hell no. Poor kid.

  Emily threw open the bathroom door, and he snapped out of his funk. She’d already witnessed one breakdown, and he wanted to exude the confidence now that he could get both her and Wyatt back to Paradiso safely.

  He slapped on a grin. “Did you leave me some hot water?”

  “There’s plenty.” She shook out her T-shirt as she walked to her suitcase to lay her clothes across the top. “Are you taking a shower, too?”

  “This town is dusty. I feel like I’m crunching dirt between my teeth.” He swung his legs off the bed and grabbed a clean T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts from his bag.

  “It is dusty, and I don’t care if it is kind of corny, I liked it...until we found out about Jaycee.”

  He bunched his clothes in one hand. “It was a good day until that.”

  He slipped into the bathroom, took a quick shower and brushed his teeth. When he returned to the bedroom, Emily was propped up against a pile of pillows watching a comedy.

  She patted the bed beside her. “C’mon, I think we can both use a laugh right now.”

  He dropped his clothes and crawled onto the bed beside her.

  She scooted close to him and rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re one of the good guys, Nash Dillon.”

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, they rose early and had a quick breakfast with Cora before hitting the road back to Paradiso. They left the GPS that had been on Wyatt’s car seat in the cactus garden.

  Jaycee hadn’t been as ditzy as Nash thought. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. She should’ve taken care of herself as well as Wyatt.

  Nash had called in their arrival time to coincide with DCS. They’d hand Wyatt over to a social worker and DCS would find him a foster family until his parentage and Jaycee’s wishes could be sorted through.

  He was gonna miss the kid...and the kid’s nanny.

  As they passed Boothill, Nash turned his head toward Emily. “Are you going to contact Lanier as soon as DCS has Wyatt?”

  “Yes. If I’m forced to leave a text again, I’ll let him know about Jaycee—if it’s okay with the police—and that DCS has Wyatt and that he’s safe. He can figure out what he wants to do from there, but it’s all going to have to be legal and aboveboard.”

  “Do you think you’ll get your final payment, or whatever he owes you?”

  “At this point, I don’t care. If he turns out to be involved with the cartels, I don’t want his dirty money.” She slid her sunglasses on and tapped her fingers against her knee, her jaw a hard line.

  A good reference from a client like Lanier could’ve catapulted Emily’s PI career into the stratosphere—unless he was a cartel associate and money launderer. What the hell did someone like Lanier want with a baby, even if Wyatt were his son? He must’ve been trying to foil Jaycee’s blackmail attempt.

  The drive back to Paradiso went a lot faster than the drive out to Tombstone, no matter how much Nash tried to delay it. When he pulled into the parking lot of the station, he scanned the cars to see if he could figure out which one belonged to the caseworker who’d take Wyatt away. He swallowed hard when he saw a sedan with a rear-facing car seat in the back.

  He threw the car into Park and sat still with his hands resting on top of the steering wheel. Emily sat beside him, staring straight ahead, not moving a muscle.

  Finally, she shoved her glasses to the top of her head. “Befo
re we go in, I’m going to change his diaper one last time. I—I don’t want them to think he was neglected.”

  “I’ll help you.” Nash exited the vehicle and opened the passenger door behind the driver’s side. He dragged the diaper bag from the floor of the truck while Emily scooped Wyatt out of his seat.

  “C’mon, you little bug. You need to look handsome and healthy to meet new people.” Emily’s voice hitched in her throat.

  Nash’s own throat was aching by the time she came to his side of the car with Wyatt in her arms.

  She placed him on the diaper mat he’d laid out on the seat and changed Wyatt—one last time. Without hesitation, Nash took the dirty diaper from her and tossed it into the trash can on the edge of the parking lot. He’d come a long way in a few days.

  When he came back to the truck, Emily had snapped up Wyatt’s clothes and plucked a couple of diaper wipes from the dispenser. She waved one at Nash. “Here you go.”

  He wiped his hands clean, and then they walked into the station as if they were going to face a firing squad.

  When they entered the reception area, four heads swiveled around to watch their progress. Nash narrowed his eyes as he, Emily and Wyatt approached the clutch of people, each with a different expression he couldn’t begin to fathom. He could read only Valdez’s open face, filled with an almost gleeful humor, but he couldn’t understand it. What the hell was so funny about a murdered mother leaving a child behind?

  He recognized Detective Espinoza from the Pima County Sheriff’s Department and a deputy from the same department and figured the woman for the caseworker.

  They’d all been huddled around a computer when he and Emily had walked in with Wyatt. Now their attention stayed focused on him.

  Nash coughed, more to get rid of the lump in his throat than anything else. “We have Jaycee Lemoin’s baby. I hope you’re ready to take good care of him.”

  The woman shifted her gaze from him to Wyatt, happily lounging in Emily’s arms, and smiled. “I’m Alice Daniels, the social worker from DCS. Wyatt looks like a happy boy. We’ll do our best for him until...”