by Amy Reece
“About a thousand percent better than last night. That smells amazing. I’m starving.”
“That’s a good sign.” He tipped her chin up and searched her face, noting she did, indeed, look better this morning. He leaned down to kiss her, then turned her toward the table. “Sit. I’ll get you some coffee. Breakfast is about ten minutes out.”
She was quiet while he finished cooking breakfast. It was one of the many things he appreciated about her: she never felt the need to fill the silence with chatter. In short order, he set a plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast in front of her.
“This looks great, Mac. I didn’t know you could cook so well.” She took a bite of the bacon, groaning in appreciation.
“Breakfast is about my limit, so don’t get too excited.” He watched as she stood and went to the refrigerator, returning with a small bottle of something reddish, which she sprinkled over her eggs. “What’s that?”
“Cholula. It’s hot sauce. Here.” She handed the bottle across the table to him.
He twisted the top off of the bottle, smelled it, and put the cap back on. “No thanks.”
She grinned and dug into her eggs. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”
“I called in. I’m staying with you today.”
She gave him an exasperated look. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m staying.” He was prevented from saying more by the sudden pounding on the front door. “I guess the news has spread to your brothers. Wonder which one it is.” He stood, gesturing for Izzy to say seated and continue eating.
“A hundred bucks says it’s Hugh. I’m glad I threw some clothes on.” She had dressed in yoga pants and a hoodie before coming into the kitchen.
Mac opened the door to find both Hugh and Finn, with Chris standing behind them. “She’s okay. She’s in the kitchen eating breakfast.” He stood aside and allowed the three inside. He swallowed his annoyance at the intrusion and offered them coffee, enjoying the way Hugh’s eyes narrowed as he realized Mac had obviously spent the night.
“Cara called this morning,” Hugh explained. “I would have liked to know about this last night.”
“Oh, Hugh,” Izzy said. “I told Cara not to call you. There was no point.”
Mac watched Hugh’s jaw flex as he struggled not to reprimand his sister. “I called Finn and Chrissy at the precinct as soon as I heard.”
“I pulled the police report before I left,” Chris added, handing a copy to Mac. “I’d like to hear your story again, Izzy.”
“Sure,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll tell you what I remember, which isn’t much. Cara and I were coming out of the restaurant. We went to a new sushi place on Central.” She frowned as she spoke. “Cara’s strap slipped on her shoes and she stopped to fix it. I was ahead of her. I guess I’d already stepped off the curb when I looked back. I heard something—it must have been the car—and I turned around. I didn’t really see much—it was more an impression and a reaction, I guess. I jumped back, but something hit my leg. Then I was falling and I hit my head, I guess on the curb. I blacked out for a couple seconds.”
“It was nearly five minutes, from what Cara said,” Mac added.
“I must have scared the living shit out of her,” Izzy muttered.
“Pretty much.” Finn spoke for the first time. “She said there was a lot of blood from your leg.”
“Yeah, but the doctor said it would be fine. How many stitches did he put in?” She turned to Mac.
“Twelve. It’s a nasty cut, but it should heal pretty well.” He turned to the others. “She’s got antibiotics, which she should take with food.” He pushed away from the counter and went to find the prescriptions he’d brought home the night before. “Here you go. I’ll bet you’re ready for some pain pills too, huh?”
She nodded and accepted the pills he put into her palm. “That’s all I remember. I woke up and barfed all over the sidewalk. There were paramedics. They made me ride in an ambulance. I’m glad I didn’t have to stay overnight in the hospital.”
“Her CT scan came back clear, so the ER doc said she could go home as long as someone stayed with her. She needs to stay home from work until Monday.” He addressed these last words to Hugh.
“No problem. Mac, thank you for taking care of her. Cara said you took Janey to Mom and Dad’s too.”
“Of course. They’re my family.” And Hugh and the rest of them had better get used to it.
Hugh simply nodded and turned back to his sister. “You scared the hell out of us, Iz.”
“Sorry. I certainly didn’t mean to.” She looked up at Mac. “When is Janey coming home?”
He was glad she didn’t ask where she was again. It had freaked him out a bit the night before when she couldn’t seem to remember. “Your mom took her to daycare so you could get some sleep today. She’ll drop her off here later this afternoon, okay?”
She smiled. “Okay. I miss her. You’ll stay, won’t you? After Janey gets back, I mean.”
“Of course.” He turned to grab the coffee pot to refill her mug.
Finn stood and carried his mug to the sink. “We’ll let you get back to your rest, Izzy. Glad you’re okay, sis.” He kissed the top of her head and looked at the other two expectantly. Chris and Hugh each hugged her, then walked with Finn to the front door.
Mac winked at Izzy, then followed the others out of the kitchen. “I’ve asked my partner to locate any security camera footage in the area that might have captured the car. It’s a long shot, but—”
“It’s worth a try. Good call, Mac,” said Finn.
“Do you think this could possibly have anything to do with what we found in those boxes?”
“It seems like awfully coincidental timing.” Hugh frowned at Mac as he asked. “Is it possible this wasn’t random?”
“I don’t know, but I think it’s worth looking into.” He filled in the details for Finn and Chris, who looked confused.
“Shit. Okay, we’ll see what we can find out from our end. Chris, can you call Jared and see if the FBI knows anything about this Poverty League?” Finn reached for the small notebook in his shirt pocket and jotted a few notes as he spoke.
When Mac returned to the kitchen, Izzy was stacking their dishes in the dishwasher. “Hey.” He took the plate from her hands and steered her back to the table. “I’ll clean up. You are on strict orders to rest, young lady.”
“Fine. Thanks for breakfast.” She sipped her coffee silently while he finished stacking the dishes in the dishwasher. “You guys think it might not have been an accident, don’t you?”
He sighed and tossed the rag he’d been using to wipe the counter in the sink. “Maybe. We’re looking into it. I wish you wouldn’t worry about it, at least not today.”
“Hmm. I could probably be distracted fairly easily.” She let her eyes drift up and down his body.
He laughed and held his hand out to her. “I’ll have to take a raincheck on that, love, at least for a few days.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her, long and deep, stroking his tongue against hers lazily. She tasted of coffee and bacon, and he wished he could scoop her into his arms and take her back to bed, but he knew he needed to wait until she was fully recovered. He groaned and reluctantly pulled away. “You are a temptress, woman.” He rubbed his thumb across her full lips. “Sex is definitely on the list of forbidden activities for you today.”
“What about tomorrow?” she asked, a pouty expression on her face.
“A guy can dream.” He tweaked her nose. “Why don’t you show me some of Janey’s baby pictures?”
Her face lit up, as it did any time her daughter was mentioned. “Sure. Do you want to see some of her videos too?”
“I want to see all of them.”
Two hours later, he’d worked his way through several photo albums and birthday videos from age one through four. He couldn’t get enough; his hunger for the time he missed in Janey’s life was unquenchable. “What’s that one?�
�� He pointed to a DVD still in the basket she’d set on the coffee table.
“Oh, that’s her birth video. You don’t want to see that. It’s not for the faint of heart, trust me.” She laughed and reached for another photo album.
But he barely heard her. He closed the album on his lap and reached for the DVD. “Of course I want to see it. I’ve done two and a half tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan, Izzy. I think I can handle it.”
Nearly an hour later, he had to rethink his brash statement. He rested his head against the back of the sofa, his arm slung over his face. “That was brutal. Oh, my God.”
She patted his leg. “Be glad it was only the highlights. You want some water?”
He shook his head and sat up. “I’m fine. God, Izzy! I can’t believe you had to go through that.” He took her face in his hands. “Did you ever think of not doing it?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you found out you were pregnant and alone, did you ever think about having an abortion? You could have just gone back to your normal life. Nobody ever would have known.”
She leaned in and kissed him softly. “Not even for a second.”
He sighed and pulled her close. “Thank you. Thank you for giving my daughter an amazing life. I love you, Izzy.”
“I love you too, Mac. Sorry for blurting it out at the hospital last night. I’d blame it on the drugs they gave me, but I don’t think I’d had any yet.”
“Well, you had hit your head pretty hard. And you can blurt out that you love me any time you want. How’s the head today?”
“Still aches some.” She rubbed her forehead. “Where did you put my pain meds?”
“I’ll get them.” He turned off the television and pushed himself off the sofa. He tried not to be concerned that she’d seen him set the meds on the table earlier. She was still obviously confused. He gave her two pills and a glass of water and made sure she took them. “What would it take to convince you to lie down for a nap?”
“Hmm, let me think.” As she spoke, she crawled across the couch toward him.
He let her push him back until she was positioned on top of him. He was perfectly happy to let her take control of the encounter and enjoyed a few minutes of the finest kissing he’d ever experienced. Hands down, Izzy was the best kisser he’d ever known. She seemed content to keep things fairly innocent, though, and he realized she must be exhausted. He slowed it down and sat up. “I could do this all day, sweetheart, but you need to rest. Come on.” He pulled her off the couch and into her bedroom. He helped her settle on top of the comforter, tucked a blanket around her, and kissed her head. She was already asleep before he closed the door.
He took the opportunity while she slept to call Darius. “Did you find anything?”
“Yeah. Would it be okay if I came over? I actually found quite a bit, but I’d rather talk to you in person.”
“Sure. I’ll text you the address, but don’t knock or ring the bell, okay? Izzy’s asleep.”
Darius arrived within fifteen minutes; they soon had files and notepads spread over the kitchen table. “It’s going to be a few days before we have the security feed from the businesses around the restaurant, but I had our accountants go over the files you sent from Izzy’s office and they found some interesting patterns. The amount of the donations from Lyon Millwork to various entities ebbs and flows.”
“Why is that interesting?”
“Because the upswings over the past decade always precede some sort of protest or public spectacle by whatever group they’ve donated to. Lyon has a predilection for supporting racist groups of one sort or another, at least according to his donation history. The part that really concerns us is the recent spike in donations to this Southwest Anti-Poverty League, a known domestic terror organization.”
“Do they have a history of violence?” Mac reached for the file Darius had brought on the organization and began flipping through the papers.
“Not here in Albuquerque, but they’ve tried to cause some trouble in Phoenix and Denver. There were some nasty incidents at pro-Hispanic rallies, the kinds of things we don’t want to see here.”
“Well, shit. Okay, what kind of things do we have coming up in the next few months that might entice this group to action?”
“No idea. We’ll get our people on it, though.” Darius smiled suddenly and looked past Mac. “Hey, Izzy. Lookin’ good.”
Mac turned and saw a sleepy-looking Izzy smile and push her messy hair out of her face.
“Hi, Darius. What’s all this?” She entered the kitchen and gestured to the cluttered table.
“Just some work files. I’ll clear it up and get out of your hair.” Darius started gathering the papers.
“Is it the Lyon Millwork case?” She sat at the table and glanced at the open file in front of her. “Did you figure out what AMCI stands for?”
“What? What are you talking about?” Mac and Darius spoke at the same time.
“Didn’t I tell you?” she asked Mac. “It was a little slip of paper stapled to one of the donation receipts, along with a canceled check. It was one of things you photographed, Mac. I know it was.” She began rifling through the files, agitated.
“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” Mac didn’t want her getting upset, but he didn’t remember her telling him anything about a slip of paper. Added to her confusion and general mental fogginess following her concussion, it was worrisome.
“Listen, Izzy.” Darius caught Mac’s look and gently took the files from her. “I’ll look through all these back at the office. I’m sure I’ll find it.”
She looked like she was going to argue for a moment, but then frowned and stood to get a drink of water. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Darius.”
Mac saw his partner to the door, then returned to find Izzy pacing the kitchen.
She turned as he entered. “Mac, where’s Janey?”
Chapter Seven
Izzy
Her whole body ached, with the pounding headache acting as the cherry on top of the pain sundae. She didn’t want to complain about it to Mac, though. He was already worried enough about her confusion and memory loss. Yes, she’d seen his reaction when she kept asking about Janey, and when she freaked out about the handwritten memo she thought she remembered seeing in the files from Lyon Millwork. Now she was doubting herself and wondering if she had imagined it. Mac was so sweet about it all. He hugged her and reminded her what the doctor had said about short term memory loss over the next few weeks until her brain had a chance to heal.
“Sweetheart, give yourself some time. Listen, why don’t I see if your mom can bring Janey home a little early? I think you’ll rest easier once you see her.”
She nodded and sniffed, determined not to get weepy yet again. “Yes. I need her here.”
She was still exhausted after her nap, but she didn’t want to go back to bed. Mac fixed sandwiches and canned soup, but she had little appetite and threw most of it away. He talked her into sitting with him on the couch while they watched one of her all-time favorite movies, While You Were Sleeping. She knew he must have hated every minute of it, but he never complained. Instead, he dimmed the lights and made sure she was comfortable, with her feet in his lap and a soft afghan covering her. Janey’s kitten, Sophie, leapt onto the couch and settled into a fold of the blanket, purring softly. Izzy drifted in and out during the movie, but felt relaxed and fairly calm, knowing her baby would be home soon. She had a moment of panic at the end of the movie when she looked around and didn’t see Janey; she almost asked where she was, but Mac must have noticed.
“Your mom is on her way with Janey, love. They should be here soon.”
Moira arrived shortly with Janey and several bags of groceries. “I put together a few casseroles, as well. Would you mind fetching them from the trunk, Mac?”
Janey followed her grandmother in quietly, obviously warned that her mother had been hurt. She sat next to Izzy on the sofa, not touching her, and frowned. “Are you okay, Momma?�
��
Izzy pulled her into her arms, inhaling the smell of her shampoo and the warm scent of her little girl. “I’m fine, baby. I promise. I had a little accident, but Mac and Aunt Cara took care of me.”
Janey pulled back and looked at her mother seriously. “Grandma said you had to go to the hospital.”
“I did, but only for a little while.”
Janey glared across the room at Mac as he came in, carrying a cardboard box laden with casserole dishes. “You lied, Mac. You told me you had to go to work.”
He set the box on the floor and came to kneel in front of her. “I’m sorry, Janey. That wasn’t cool. I should have been honest with you. I know that now. I was scared and I didn’t want you to know. I promise I’ll never lie to you again.”
She crossed her arms and continued to glare. “You better not. Are you gonna stay with us and help take care of Momma?”
“I am.”
She was silent for a long, excruciating moment. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’m not allowed to touch the stove, so you have to cook dinner. Grandma made chicken spaghetti and lasagna.” Janey scooped her kitten into her arms and kissed the furry head.
Mac looked visibly relieved at Janey’s easy forgiveness. “They smell great too. Which one should we have tonight?”
“Chicken spaghetti. It’s Momma’s favorite. I can set the table if you reach the plates for me. Here, Momma. You can hold Sophie.” She deposited the cat into Izzy’s lap and skipped off to the kitchen.
“Whew,” he said as he hefted the box of casseroles. “That was close.”
Izzy stroked the kitten’s head as she listened to her mother and Janey boss Mac around in the kitchen, amused by the conversation and relieved to have her daughter home. She finally felt calm and less worried about her concussion.
“Izzy, dear, let me have a look at you.” Moira bustled in, drying her hands on a dishtowel. She took her daughter’s face in her hands and examined it carefully. She made Izzy show her the bump on the back of her head and the stitches while she told her what the doctor had said.