Harvey may have wanted Hunter to assist me, but Anthony’s mother couldn’t be left alone, and I didn’t need or want the backup.
I searched the rest of the rooms in the house and came up empty. But there were signs he’d been staying there. Men’s clothes had been folded into a drawer, shaving cream was on the countertop in the bathroom, and a laptop under the pillow in the guest room had a company logo sticker on it that read: Paine-Free Marketing.
Out of the bedroom window, a series of tarps caught my eye. They were covering something big. It wasn’t hard to figure out what they were hiding.
I heard a faint, rustling sound coming from beneath the tarps as I walked over, and given the air was still, I hoped I’d located Anthony. I reached out and ripped the edge of the first tarp back, eyeballing the truck that had almost mowed me down two nights before. I walked to the opposite side and yanked the second tarp free. I leaned against the glass and peered inside the cab. Aside from a fast-food bag and some loose change, it was empty.
Two tarps down, one to go.
I moved to the back of the truck, pausing a moment before the final reveal.
“Anthony Paine,” I said, “if you want a Paine-Free arrest, this is your one chance to come out. Or don’t. I’d be happy to extend you the same courtesy you gave Jack.”
I eased the tarp away and flipped it on its side. A cat leapt off the back of the truck and scurried out of the yard. I stood there a moment, pressed a hand to my chest, and breathed, trying to slow my heart rate down.
What do you know?
Anthony’s mother may not have lied about the cat after all.
I heard the sound of rustling beneath me, and I looked down. A hand reached out from beneath the truck, wrapped around my ankle, and yanked me back. I lost my footing and fell to the ground. My gun flew out of my hand, landing several feet away from me.
I reached for it, and Anthony grabbed for my other leg. I cracked my foot onto his head and backed toward the gun. He crawled out from under the truck, dragged me toward him, and drove his fist into my face. I lay there for a moment, my eye throbbing, eyes boring into his as he attempted to pin me down and finish what he’d started.
I pressed my knee into his stomach to stop him from moving forward, kicked his hip with my foot, grabbed his ear and yanked down. He shouted out in pain, and his attention diverted long enough for me to turn the tables and tackle him. He wouldn’t get the best of me—not this time.
All the rage, frustration, and angst I’d felt boiled to the surface. I balled my fists and used his face as my own personal punching bag.
“This is for Lark!” I said. “And this is for Jack.”
I grabbed my gun, pressed it into the center of his forehead, and said, “And this is for everyone who suffered because of you.”
“Wait, please,” he said. “Don’t. I’m sorry.”
“Georgiana!” Harvey said. “That’s enough!”
I glanced over my shoulder. “No, it isn’t! It will never be enough.”
Harvey aimed his gun at Anthony, looked into my eyes, and said, “Back off. Come on, now. We got him. Lark is safe. Justice will be served. We’ll make sure of it.”
He’d get justice—a justice he didn’t deserve. A lifetime of imprisonment without parole wasn’t enough to undo the mental scars Lark would endure for years to come. I wanted to end his life as he’d ended Jack’s. But it wouldn’t bring Jack back, and it wouldn’t change what he’d done to Lark. He was guilty of heinous acts, but he was the only parent Maya had left.
I eased the gun off his head and stood.
I wouldn’t be responsible for taking him from Maya the way he’d taken Jack from Lark. No child deserved that, no matter how pathetic the parent.
Harvey bent over Anthony, slapped zip ties over his wrists, and lifted him off the ground.
Anthony looked up at him and said, “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me,” Harvey said. “I have half a mind to let her end your life, you son of a bitch.”
“Mommy!” Lark screamed.
Face drenched in tears, Phoebe sprinted toward the Jeep, lifted Lark out of the passenger seat, and threw her arms around her, smothering her face in kisses.
“I missed you so much, honey,” Phoebe said. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I think so. I want to go home. I want to see Willy. I miss him.”
“Willy’s here,” Phoebe said. “Nanny picked him up today.”
Lark’s face lit up. “Can I see him, Mommy? Please?”
“You can do whatever you like, honey.”
My mother, who had stood at the front door with my aunt and my brothers, exercising the most restraint I’d ever seen, reached a breaking point. She made a mad dash toward Lark, hollering words of gratitude toward the heavens the entire way. I couldn’t help but smile. My family may not have been normal. Hell, I was far from it. But they were loyal, and they were mine.
Mom joined in on the group hug and said, “Nanny has your favorite ice cream in the freezer, Lark. How about we go make hot fudge sundaes?”
Lark nodded, Phoebe passed her off, and the two walked toward the front door.
Phoebe embraced me. Through staggered breaths, she said, “I can never thank you enough for bringing her back to me. I wish I could have done the same for you.”
“I ... ahh ... you’re welcome.” For a time, we remained locked in an embrace, and then I said, “You have a daughter to spend time with, and I have a man to interrogate.”
She released me and said, “I understand. Will you stop by after?”
I nodded. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
Phoebe headed inside, and I stood there for a minute, watching her and Lark through the kitchen window, remembering a time I felt the same joy she was feeling now.
The front door opened, and my mother stepped out. I looked away and wiped a stray tear from my eye as she approached.
She squeezed my hand and said, “I’m proud of you. I know I don’t say it enough, but I’m saying it now. You’re an amazing woman, and I’m so grateful you’re my daughter.”
I couldn’t recall the last time she’d spoken to me with such tenderness.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Won’t you come inside? Lark would love to spend some time with you. We all would now that this is all over.”
“I will,” I said. “I just need to wrap up a few things at the station first.”
“You’re not, uh, leaving us again, are you?”
She looked worried, like she anticipated my answer, unsure of my reply.
“I’m staying,” I said. “For now. I may even look into buying a place again. Not now, but sometime. We’ll see how it goes.”
I said goodbye and drove to the station. I walked to the interrogation room. Hunter was standing outside, watching the interview take place.
“How’s it going in there?” I asked.
“Slow. Anthony Paine isn’t in the mood to talk. Keeps asking for his lawyer.”
“How long do we have?”
She checked the time on the clock on the wall. “His lawyer lives in King City. I’d guess thirty minutes.”
Thirty minutes was enough.
“I wish I was more like you,” she said. “You’re assertive, and you have guts. I don’t.”
“You don’t want to be like me,” I said. “I make rash decisions sometimes, and I don’t consider the consequences. I just act. You’re more level-headed, which makes for a good detective.”
“I’m not a good detective, though.”
“You can be, if it’s what you want.”
“I’ll miss working here, but I think I need to move on.”
I respected her decision. “If you ever change your mind, and I’m still here, I’d be happy to teach you everything I know.”
“Thanks, but I won’t be coming back.”
She tipped her head toward me and then walked down the hall. I opened the door to the interrogation room and stuck my hea
d in.
“Mind if I talk to him for a few minutes?” I asked.
“No,” Anthony said.
Harvey smiled. “Sure.”
“No,” Anthony said. “I’m not talking to her.”
Harvey patted him on the shoulder, laughed, and said, “Good luck. You’ll need it.”
Then he exited the room.
I took a seat and paused a moment, thinking about the conversation I’d just had with Hunter and the labels I’d attached to myself.
“I’ve been to your house,” I said. “I’ve seen the family photos. I know the kind of father you were to Maya, and the husband you were to Rebecca. You’ve never even had a speeding ticket before. Now that I’m sitting here looking at you, you don’t look like a killer. You look like a decent guy. What happened?”
I knew what had happened.
I just wanted to hear him say it.
“Doesn’t matter now, does it? I’m here. Rebecca’s dead. And once my daughter hears about what I’ve done, she’ll never see me the same way again.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean, maybe? She will.”
“People can be understanding and forgiving when they want to be,” I said. “It’s all a matter of choice. You could choose to explain everything to me, and I could choose to help you with your daughter.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’ve never gone back on my word. I don’t plan to start now.”
“What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one. I just want to understand why you decided to do what you did.”
I paused, giving him time to think.
He shook his head. “Nah, I’m not talking.”
“Fine. Guess I’ll spend the rest of my life making Maya part of my family until she’s no longer interested in being part of yours.”
“Do you always play dirty to get what you want?”
Not always.
“What I want is to rewind the clock to the night it all began. I want you to talk to Jack and decide not to kill him. I want my niece not to see what she saw, you not to take her, and her not have to spend the next several years of her life in therapy because of it ... because of you.”
He huffed a heavy sigh. “I never meant ... She wasn’t supposed to be part of it. I didn’t even know he had a daughter.”
“Think about how you’d feel if the same thing happened to Maya. I’m not asking you to feel remorse for what you did. Whether you do or don’t, it doesn’t make a difference. I’m asking for answers so I can help Lark’s mother understand why you did what you did. She has an emotionally scarred daughter and a dead husband. She deserves to know the truth, your truth.”
“She has a dead husband, and I have a dead wife.”
“And a living daughter who loves you.”
“She’s my whole world, you know? At first, when Rebecca told me she planned to contact Maya’s biological father, I thought I could handle it. And then I saw him with her at the party. I saw how fast they connected. I saw the way she looked at him. It was the same way she looked at me. I was already losing my wife. I couldn’t lose my daughter too.”
“When did you decide to kill him?”
“I didn’t. I mean, I never thought it would go that far. I went to his house planning to talk, to explain to him that Maya was suffering over the loss of her mother. I thought if I told him, if I asked him to allow me to continue being the father I had always been, he would respect my position.”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“He was sorry she was hurting, but he wanted to be part of her life. He suggested we help her through it together. I was outraged. He stepped in after eighteen years, having met her once, and tried to tell me we needed to share responsibility. I was her father. I was there when she had a broken bone and needed a shoulder to cry on. Not him.”
“So, you decided to shoot him?”
“I didn’t even think about it. I just did it. Once it happened, there was no going back. It was too late. And then I heard a little girl scream. I’m sure you won’t believe me, but I never intended on taking her. I just ... I couldn’t leave her there knowing she’d seen what I’d done.”
“What about Andy Sanders, the private investigator he hired?”
“I caught him following me a couple of days after Jack died. I figure he’d suspected what I’d done and was trying to get proof before he went to the police.”
I’d heard all I needed to hear for now. The rest could wait until court. I scooted my chair back and stood.
“You will help me with my daughter like you said, won’t you?”
I opened the door and stepped out. “Like I said, I always keep my word.”
I returned to my office to grab my purse off my desk and encountered an unpleasant surprise. Mayor Wheeler had been sitting there, waiting.
“Mayor Wheeler,” I said. “Is everything okay?”
He fiddled with his phone and said, “Did you get what you needed out of Mr. Paine?”
“I did.”
“Good. I’d like to talk to you for a minute. I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to your family. I won’t take up too much of your time.”
I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms. “Okay.”
He peeled his eyes away from his phone and stared at my face.
“Nice shiner,” he said. “You okay?”
“I’ll survive.”
“I heard about what happened today.”
“Okay.”
I flashed back to the moment my gun was pressed against Anthony’s head, closed my eyes, and braced for the backlash to come.
“Great detective work,” he said. “After the news broke that we had the perpetrator in custody, my phone didn’t stop ringing. I’m being praised all around, but I’m not the one who deserves it. You do.”
“I just did what anyone would in my position.”
“Still, I wanted to stop by in person and let you know how thrilled I am to see this case solved.”
It was no secret he hoped to be reelected the next year. Solving a murder-and-kidnapping case added a shinier feather to his cap.
“Thanks,” I said. “Anything else?”
“You staying or going?”
“Staying, for now.”
He stood. “Well, good. One thing, though. You, ehh ... you might want to consider looking into anger management classes.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Neither, at the moment. It’s just a suggestion. Have a good night. Give that niece of yours a big squeeze. Because of you, she’s back with her loved ones tonight.”
He started for the door, and I said, “You’re being more generous with me this evening than you have been. Does this mean we can start off with a clean slate?”
He looked back and shot me a wink. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.”
Three weeks later
I stood in front of the full-sized mirror, assessed my eighth wardrobe change, and decided it didn’t matter what I wore tonight. I was nervous; I’d never be one hundred percent satisfied. I settled on a black, drop-waist, petal-style chiffon dress with sequin beading and matching round-toe, T-strap heels. I glanced at the time. My cab would be pulling up to the curb any minute.
I locked the door to the hotel room, took the elevator, and got into the cab. Several minutes later I was dropped in front of Osteria dei Mascalzoni. I walked inside and was greeted by a young man in a black suit.
“You must be Georgiana,” he said.
“I am.”
“I’m Sergio. Allow me to show you to your table.”
We walked to the back of the dimly lit restaurant, and he sat me inside one of three private, booth-style, circular rooms with long, red, velvet drapes tied at each side.
Sergio unfastened the drapes, pulled them almost all the way closed, and said, “Giovanni will be here in a few minutes. May I offer you something to drink while you wait?”
“Can you make a Mary Pic
kford?”
“I can make anything.”
He disappeared behind the curtain, and I sat back, fiddling with the beading on my dress and doing my best to calm my nerves. The curtain parted, and I looked up to see Giovanni smiling down on me. He set my cocktail on the table and spread his arms. I stood, and we embraced.
“It’s like I just saw you yesterday,” he said. “It feels like no time has passed.”
I felt the same.
He took a step back and looked me over. “You look beautiful, and I see you haven’t lost your love for vintage clothing.” He sat beside me. “How’s the little one doing?”
“Lark is all right. The first few days were the worst. She’d wake up crying, thinking she was back in the house she’d been kept in after she was taken, even though she was in bed next to my sister. We’re all doing our best to help her get things back to the way they used to be. She’s been playing a lot with Ethan, the boy who lives across the street. She’s not back in school yet, but I think if we give her another week or two, she will be.”
“Why isn’t she in school?”
“She’s had a lot of separation anxiety. She panics sometimes when Phoebe leaves the room.”
He placed his hand on mine. “I don’t know what I can do, but if there’s anything at all, please tell me.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to be here, to put it all on pause for a moment. Before I came here, I went to see Maya, Jack’s daughter. Like Lark, she’s dealing with a lot too. She just lost her mother, and her father is headed to prison.”
“How was she?”
“Fragile. At the moment, she refuses to see her father. I don’t blame her. I shared my thoughts about why he did what he did. It doesn’t make much of a difference to her now, but in time, I believe she’ll come around and allow him in her life again. For now, I’ve told her about her half-sister Lark, and I invited her to come to Cambria to meet her and our family.”
“Do you think she will?”
“I do.”
Sergio walked in with two other men. He set a drink down beside Giovanni, and the men filled the table with more food than I could eat in a week. Then they turned and went without saying a word.
Little Girl Lost (Georgiana Germaine Book 1) Page 20