The Lawman's Legacy (Love Inspired Suspense) (17 page)

SEVENTEEN

T
yrone and Kent had broken in.

They’d ransacked the house.

Had they found the journal? It was the only hard evidence Merry had that the story she’d told was true, and she’d need it when she petitioned for custody of Tyler. It had to still be here.

She raced up the stairs, ignoring Douglas’s shouted command as she skidded into her bedroom. Torn curtains, shredded books, ripped up mattress, dresser drawers tossed on the floor, their contents scattered about. Everything exactly like it had been in the living room. Completely destroyed.

The closet door yawned open, its contents dumped on the floor. She ran to it, her heart thundering in her ears as she yanked up the floorboard.

Money.

Bankbook.

Journal.

Everything just where she’d left it.

Thank You, Lord.

She shoved the journal into her purse, reached for the bankbook and cash, tossing them in with it.

“Are you nuts? Someone could still be in here.” Douglas dragged her to her feet.

“I was afraid that they got the journal. Without it, I can’t prove that Nicole wanted me to raise Tyler.”

“Would that have mattered if you were dead?” he hissed, anger flashing in his eyes.

“I—” Hadn’t thought about that, but she should have. Should have remembered that Tyrone had killed the mother of his child and that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her once he had what he was after.

A floorboard creaked in the hall. Stealthy footsteps padded on hardwood.

Tyrone moving in to do what he’d probably been planning for four years?

She froze, staring into Douglas’s eyes, hoping he wasn’t going to die because of her.

Hoping
she
wasn’t going to die.

He pulled a gun, his movements so smooth and quiet, she barely realized what he’d done. Only knew for sure when she saw the weapon in his hand.

“Get in the closet and stay there,” he mouthed, nudging her back and closing the door, the soft click sounding like a firecracker.

She stood in the tiny area, heart racing, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

Silence.

Darkness.

Everything still.

And, then it wasn’t.

A crash and a muffled shout. Another crash, and something slammed into the closet door with enough force to crack the wood.

Then finally she heard Douglas’s voice—he was calling for backup.

She shoved open the door, raced into the room, her feet tangling in discarded clothes. She pitched forward, hands out, as she slammed into a hard chest.

“I told you to stay in there,” Douglas growled, as he pocketed his phone. Taut muscles moved beneath her hands, and she was so thankful he was okay, so relieved he was alive, that she threw herself into his arms. “This is my job, Merry. It’s what I’m trained to do.
You
are trained to teach kids. The next time we’re in a situation like this, and I tell you to stay put, stay put!”

“Next time? You think there’s going to be a next time?” she responded, her gaze on the person lying a few feet away.

Hands cuffed behind his back.

Blond hair. Gaunt features. Eyes closed. She knew him, had seen him outside her house, seen him in her rearview mirror, would probably be seeing him in her nightmares.

“It’s Kent Don.”

“And his boss might not be far behind.”

“You think Tyrone is here, too?” Just the thought made her skin crawl.

“I don’t know, and you’re making it difficult to find out.”

“I’m not—” Sirens cut her off, and Douglas held up a hand, silencing her as footsteps pounded on the porch stairs and an officer announced his presence.

“We’re upstairs. One perp in custody. Another may be in the house,” Douglas called out, and Merry tensed.

Was
Tyrone hiding somewhere in the house?

Sounds carried from downstairs, voices, footfalls, doors opening and closing. Someone walked up the stairs. More doors opened and closed.

“All clear, Captain.” An officer stepped into the room. Not someone Merry knew, and he didn’t pay her any attention as he dragged Kent to his feet and read him his Miranda rights.

“Get your hands off me, cop! I want a lawyer,” Kent growled.

“You’ll get one, but first, I want to know where your boss is.” Douglas stepped toward him, his expression cold and hard.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kent smiled, and the hair on the back of Merry’s neck stood on end. Evil. That’s how he looked, and she moved closer to Douglas.

“Maybe I can jog your memory. Tyrone Rodriguez sent you here to find Lila Kensington. Where is he?”

“He didn’t send me here for nothing. I came to fish.” Kent smiled again, and Merry shuddered.

“Where is he?”
Douglas stepped into Kent’s space, taller, broader, tougher than the young thug, and Kent’s smile fell away.

“He’s in Boston. Now, back off before I start screaming police brutality.”

“He hasn’t touched you,” the officer responded.

“I may if he doesn’t start talking,” Douglas muttered. “Take him down to the station, book him and get him a lawyer. I’ll be there to interview him as soon as I finish here.”

“Will do.” The officer dragged Kent from the room, and Douglas turned to Merry, his eyes blazing.

“Don’t ever do that again. You could have been killed running up the stairs the way you did.”

“I don’t plan on it. As a matter of fact, I may just stay locked in your father’s house for the rest of my life.” Her voice shook, and he sighed, tugging her into his arms.

“You still have the journal?”

“In my purse.”

“Kent disconnected your alarm system, and then tore this place apart looking for something, and I have a feeling the journal might be it. Can I take a look?”

“Sure.” She pulled it from her purse and handed it to him.

“I’ve only read through it once, but there’s nothing in it. Just Nicole’s thoughts about her pregnancy and Tyler.” He studied the cover, ran his fingers over the letters and numbers carved into the leather.

“What’s this?”

“I don’t know. Nicole carved it, though. She mentioned it in a letter she wrote to Tyler.”

“Yeah? Where’s that?”

“Inside the back cover.”

It took several seconds for Douglas to finish reading. Finally, he looked up. “She really loved him.”

“Yeah. She did.” Merry blinked back tears, and Douglas closed the journal.

“In the letter she says that Tyler will find his father’s name hidden on the cover of the book. Have you found Tyrone’s name on it?”

“The letters are there, but there are other letters, too, and I’ve never taken the time to try to figure out what they all mean or how they’re connected. Nicole always loved codes. She wanted to be a cryptologist, and I think she would have been a great one.”

“We’ll send a copy of the cover and the letter to an expert. See what he can figure out.”

He led her outside as the first flakes of snow began to fall, and she pulled her coat close as he helped her into the SUV, waited while he rounded the vehicle and got in.

“Are we going to your father’s place?”

“
You
are, and I want you to stay there.”

“Where else would I go?”

“I don’t know, Merry, but until Tyrone is apprehended, you can’t afford to take needless risks. Stay at my father’s place. Do what he tells you. I’ll be back to update you as soon as I can.”

“What’s going to happen after this is over?” she asked as he pulled away from the house.

“Hopefully, Tyrone and Kent are going to go to jail for a very long time.”

“I mean, with me. With Tyler.”

“You’re going to live happily ever after. Isn’t that the way these things always work out?” He glanced her way, a half smile turning up the corners of his lips.

“Not always.”

“This time it will. Eventually, you’ll have to go to court to petition for legal custody of Tyler. For now, you’ll clean up your house, you’ll go back to work. Everything will be almost exactly the way it was.”

“Almost?”

“Tyrone will be out of your life. The threat he presented will be gone. You’ll be safe. And,
I’ll
be
in
your life.”

“Douglas—”

“If you’re going to tell me it won’t work out, don’t. We can’t know until we try, and this time we
are
going to try. No secrets between us. No lies. Just us trying to see if what we feel when we’re together is as real as it seems.” He pulled up in front of a large colonial-style house and turned to face her.

“I wasn’t going to tell you it wouldn’t work out. I was going to tell you how thankful I am that you’re in my life and that you’re planning to stay in it.”

“Then I guess my lecture was for nothing.” He smiled, pressed a quick kiss to her lips, the brief contact searing into her. “Are you going to be okay here for the night?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“I don’t need your thanks. I just need you. Safe. Happy. Here in Fitzgerald’s Bay.”

“I—”

“Hey! Douglas! Stop talking and get moving. We’ve got a suspect to question.” Keira Fitzgerald, rookie officer, rapped on the glass and peered into the driver’s-side window.

“We?” Douglas got out of the car, and Merry did the same.

“Dad says it will be a good experience for me.”

“Will he say the same if I ask him?”

“He’ll say that I talked him into letting me be there, but he still agreed to let me come along. Sorry you’ve had so much trouble, Merry. Hopefully, we can get things cleared up for you.”

“We
will
get things cleared up, but let’s get Merry settled in first.”

The front door opened and Tyler raced out, a toy police car in each hand. “Mommy! Look what Mr. Chief gave me!”

“They’re wonderful!” She lifted him, ignoring his squirming as she held him close and inhaled deeply. Shampoo and soap and little boy all mixed with a hint of chocolate. “Have you been eating chocolate before dinner, young man?”

“Mr. Chief said we should always eat dessert first.”

“Funny, he never said that when I was growing up.” Douglas ruffled Tyler’s hair.

“That’s because
you
never taught me how to bounce like a ball,” Aiden responded as they walked into the foyer.

Douglas laughed, and Tyler wiggled down, skipping into a beautiful living room, his smile so broad Merry was sure his cheeks must hurt.

This was what Merry had craved for so long.

Connection.

She hadn’t just craved it for herself. She’d wanted it for Tyler. He deserved this. Deserved to be caught up and pulled in and made to feel like he belonged. Not for a few weeks or months or even a year. Forever.

“Look, Mommy! More cars.” Tyler tugged her to a lineup of cars, and she sat down next to him.

Douglas joined them, his gaze on Merry. “You’re going to stay here, right?”

“I told you I would. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Then I’d better go, so I
can
get back.” His lips brushed hers, the contact so light she felt it in her soul more than on lips.

And then he was gone, tossing a quick goodbye at his father as he headed out into the falling snow.

EIGHTEEN

T
yler slept fitfully, his little face scrunched up in a scowl that tore at Merry’s heart. After all the happiness of the afternoon and evening, he seemed to be having nightmares, and she rubbed his head, murmuring softly when he groaned in his sleep.

She glanced at the clock.

Nearly midnight.

She should be sleeping, too, facing her own dreams and nightmares.

Instead, she paced the large guest room, the howling wind pressing against the windows and making the old house creak in protest.

It had been hours since Douglas and Keira left. Hours since Aiden had led Merry and Tyler to the guest room. Hours spent thinking about what might happen.
Worrying
about what might happen.

Despite Douglas’s reassurances, she couldn’t help being scared. Tyler deserved so much more than a gangster father. He deserved to be cared for and loved and made to feel safe.

That’s what she had been giving him for four years.

What if she went to court, petitioned for custody and was denied?

If Tyler was taken away from her, would he remember her in a year or two? When he was a teenager, would he wonder what had become of the first mother he could remember?

She shoved the thought away.

Dwelling on what could happen wouldn’t change anything. She just had to trust that God had already made the decision, and that He’d chosen Merry to be Tyler’s mother.

“Merry?” Aiden called out, tapping softly on the door, and she hurried to open it, her heart racing. “There’s been a bad accident on the highway outside of town.”

“Is Douglas okay?”

“He’s fine. He wasn’t involved in the accident, but it’s a fifteen-car pileup. The State is coming in to help, but it’s our jurisdiction, and we need all hands on deck. I have to head out there. Will you be okay here by yourself?”

“Tyler and I have spent four years by ourselves. We’ll be fine. I just hope that everyone involved is okay.”

“It sounds like we’ve got multiple injuries. I’m praying none of them are serious, but the sooner I get there to help direct traffic, the less likely it will be that more cars will be involved and more people hurt. I’ll set the alarm before I leave. The doors and windows are locked. Keep them that way.” He had the same blue eyes as Douglas, but they didn’t shine with warmth and humor. Instead, they were serious and just a little sad.

“I will.”

“On a night like tonight, I can’t imagine Rodriguez trying to get you, but if you have any trouble, call the station directly. The 9-1-1 lines are tied up with calls about the accident, and I don’t want you to have to wait for rescue if Rodriguez does show up. You have the number?”

“I have Douglas’s number.” She pulled her cell phone from her purse and shoved it into the pocket of her robe.

“Don’t be afraid to use it. He’s still at the station, and he should be able to get here quickly despite the road conditions.”

“I’ll call if I need him.” But she hoped she wouldn’t. Hoped that Kent had been telling the truth when he’d said Rodriguez was still in Boston.

“Not just if you need him, Merry. If you even suspect that you might need him. A strange sound, a bad feeling, anything that makes you think Rodriguez could be lurking around, you call. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” He patted her shoulder, offering a reassuring smile before he hurried away.

Merry stepped back into the room, smoothed Tyler’s hair, and then paced to the window, watching as Aiden pulled out of the driveway, his emergency lights flashing, his sirens blaring.

Gone.

And she was alone.

Alone.

She’d told Aiden that she was used to it, but she couldn’t say she liked it. Not tonight, anyway. Not with the wind howling and the house creaking and Rodriguez stalking her.

Maybe tea would help. Aiden had told her to help herself to anything in the kitchen, and she walked down the stairs, rubbing her arms against a chill she couldn’t quite shake.

Outside the storm raged, snow flying against the windows as gusts of wind carved ditches and created drifts. One of the biggest snowstorms of the century. That’s what the meteorologists were saying, and Merry believed it. Several inches of snow already covered the road, and the trees bowed under the weight of the heavy flakes.

She shivered, her hand resting on the cell phone as she boiled water for tea and turned on the television. News of the accident filled every station, and Merry prayed for the victims as she watched images of the scene flash across the screen.

A bad night to be out.

Surely, Tyrone wouldn’t be.

She tried to reassure herself, as she settled onto the living room chair and listened to news reports about the weather and the accident.

He
wouldn’t
be.

She sipped tea, wind howling outside the window.

Wouldn’t be.

No way.

Something scraped against the living room window, and she jumped, her heart racing as she slowly turned to look.

Nothing.

No face leering in at her from the darkness. No eyes glittering from behind the glass.

Her cell phone rang, and she grabbed it, desperate to talk to someone. Anyone.

“Hello.”

“You took something from me. I want it back.” The voice seemed to slide into the room, fill the space, steal Merry’s breath.

“Who is this?”

“You know who it is. You know what I want. You want the kid, have him. But I want what’s mine.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“My girl gave it to you.”

“The money? You can have it. I haven’t spent—”

“Not the money. The other thing she gave you. You give it back to me. I let you live. You keep playing games, keep pretending you don’t know what you’ve got, and you die. Tonight. And the boy? He just might die, too.” He disconnected, the dial tone ringing in Merry’s ear for several seconds before she realized he’d hung up.

How had he gotten her number?

She pictured her trashed house, papers and bills strewn everywhere. He’d been in her house before she and Douglas arrived. Found the number on an old bill.

Called her.

From where?

Boston?

Her place?

Right outside the window?

Fear clawed its way up her throat, stealing her voice as she called Douglas.

“Hello?” His deep baritone filled her ear, and she forced words past the terror.

“It’s Merry.”

“Good. I was about to call you. Dad said he got called out to an accident, and I want to—”

“He called me. Tyrone Rodriguez. He called. He said I have something of his, and he wants it back.”

“Are you sure it was him?”

“He didn’t give me a name, but he said I could keep the kid, and he said that his girl gave me whatever he thinks I have. It has to be—”

“Stay put. Do
not
open the door for anyone. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“I—”

But he was gone, and she shoved the phone back into her pocket, turned off the television and the living room light. Listened to the howling wind, the creaking house, her erratic heartbeat.

She needed to find a weapon. Something that she could defend herself and Tyler with if Tyrone showed up.

Most of the Fitzgeralds were police officers. There must be a gun in the house somewhere.

Only she wasn’t sure how to use a gun. Didn’t know how to load one. Wasn’t sure she could fire one even if she managed to get it loaded.

No. A gun was out. She needed something that didn’t need instructions and training and a few years of target practice.

She ran into the kitchen, searched the drawers until she found a steak knife, her hand shaking as she lifted it.

Please, God, don’t let me have to use this.

Something banged against the back door, and Merry jumped, her pulse racing, adrenaline pumping, every nightmare she’d ever had about to come true.

Let it be the wind, Lord. Please, just the wind.

She crept to the door, pressed her head against the wood, heard nothing but her pulse slushing in her ears and the endless howling of the wind.

A minute passed, and she was sure she’d been mistaken. Sure that there was nothing outside but a raging winter storm.

Please, just let it be the storm.

Bang!

The door vibrated with the force of the blow, and she fell back, the knife dropping from her hand.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Don’t drop the knife just as he comes crashing through the door.

She scrambled to retrieve it, sliding across the floor on her knees, grabbing the knife as the lights went out and the room plunged into darkness.

Was Tyrone trying to turn off the alarm?

Had he succeeded?

It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered but protecting Tyler.

She backed away from the door, her heart thudding painfully, the wind howling, the house rattling, the nightmare standing right outside the door.

Please, God, get Douglas here quickly.

Crash!

The door flew open, snow flying in Merry’s face, the shrieking alarm covering the sound of her terrified scream.

A shadow moved through the doorway, darkness hiding his face, but she knew who he was, couldn’t stop her body from shaking in response.

She lifted the knife as he lunged toward her, tried to plunge it down, to stop him before he made it to the stairs and Tyler, but he grabbed her wrist, twisted so brutally, the knife dropped from her numb fingers.

She screamed in pain, in fear, and he twisted harder, shoving her into the wall.

“Where is it?” he shouted in her ear, his hot breath making her skin crawl.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.” He slammed her into the wall again, and she felt herself slipping away.

Tyler.

His name anchored her to consciousness, and she smashed down on Tyrone’s foot, tried to break free of his brutal grip.

“Stop fighting and give me what I want. Either that or die.” He pressed something cold to her head.

Something hard.

A gun!

He had a gun.

He’d use it. She knew he would. Even if she hadn’t known he’d killed before, she would have been able to hear the intention in his icy tone, feel it in his taut muscles.

I’ll be there in ten minutes.

Douglas’s words filtered through the terror.

Ten minutes.

At least four had passed.

Six more minutes and help would arrive.

She just had to stay alive until then.

She threw herself backward, slammed her foot down on Tyrone’s instep again. He cursed, shoving her away with so much force she bounced off the wall, her head hitting the corner of a cabinet.

She fell hard, her injured wrist snapping as it took the full force of her weight.

She saw stars, knew she couldn’t hold on to consciousness.

But somewhere, Tyler screamed, his terrified cries barely audible beneath the high-pitched screech of the alarm.

She had to get to him.

Had to protect him.

“I said give me my stuff!” Tyrone dragged her to her feet, his face so close she could see it through the darkness, smell the stale tobacco on his breath.

“I don’t have anything of yours.”

“You do. And you got one more minute to hand it over. You don’t, and you die. And after I’m done with you, I’m going to take care of the kid.”

“He’s your son!”

“And hers. The witch stole from me. You think I can allow that?” He shook her, slamming her into the wall so violently the breath left her lungs.

“I—”

“Shut up! We don’t have time to talk. Show me where you put the book.”

“What book?”

He backhanded her, and she saw stars, tasted blood.

“You think this is a game, lady? I’ve spent four years looking for you. Went through a lot of trouble to track you down. A lot of trouble. Nikki said she gave you the journal and the directions to my stuff are in it. I figure what a woman says when she’s got a gun pressed to her head is the truth. So, tell me. Where’s the book?” He pressed the cold barrel of the gun to her temple.

Stall him.

Tell him something that will keep him from pulling the trigger.

Once you’re dead, there will be no one to protect Tyler.

Tell him
something.

Tell him.

“It’s in my purse.” The words tripped off her tongue, thick and heavy with fear.

“Where is it?”