Ashlyn smiled. “I wasn’t that little. I was seven pounds and seven ounces if I remember correctly?”
“Yep. My mother said you were lucky. That you had God’s number on you.”
“That sounds like something Mémé would say.”
Her mother nodded. “My mother was a good woman. I’m sorry that I haven’t been more like her.”
“Mom…” Ashlyn whined. Just when she thought they might have been able to have an adult conversation, her mother had to ruin it. “I’ve told you this before. I don’t want to rehash the past, but you forced me by making that ridiculous comment. I’ve told you, if you want to start fresh, we can try, but I’ll be damned if I’ll allow you to blame me for your lack of stardom or whatever it is you wanted. I’ve made mistakes. Look at me! I’m eight months pregnant, the father’s dead, I haven’t told his parents, and I keep pushing away the greatest man I’ve ever known so I can work out all my problems on my own—and don’t you dare say a word about Mark,” she added when she heard her mother take a breath. “I swear to you if you utter one negative word about him, I’ll walk out of this house right now. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything about Mark, honey. I can see he’s a great man, and that’s some ring.”
Ashlyn looked down at the ring that her mother hadn’t uttered a word about until now. “It is. I don’t know what he was thinking…buying me something this extravagant.”
“He loves you. I think that’s obvious. How many men would be willing to marry a woman carrying another man’s—” She stopped when Ashlyn glared at her. “Sorry, but it’s true.”
“I know,” Ashlyn conceded. “He asked if I wanted to break up. I don’t want to break up; I just want to clear my head. I’m afraid, Mom. I’m afraid they’ll try to take my baby.”
Her mother released a long sigh. “I wish you had told me you were dating Devin Burke. I would have warned you away from him.”
Ashlyn narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I dated his father, Gregory Burke, all through high school.”
“Excuse me? You did what?” Ashlyn shrilled, struggling to push herself off the deep indent of the old sofa. “You dated Devin Burke’s father? The grandfather of my baby?”
Her mother’s head dropped to her chest. “Yes. All through high school.”
Ashlyn dropped her head too and shook it back and forth. “No wonder you want me to tell them. And I thought—no, no…I always knew you had ulterior motives for pushing me. But revenge, Mom? That’s even beneath you.”
“It’s not like that, Ashlyn.” Her mother stood up and took her hand, effectively keeping Ashlyn from storming to her room. “Well, maybe a little like it, I guess. But mostly…I just want him to own up to what that beast tried to do to you. And he owes you support. And your baby is the only heir to their fortune now that Devin is dead.”
Ashlyn dropped her head in her hands. “Oh, my God, Mother. This is all such a mess, and now my baby’s grandparents have another reason to hate me and fight me for custody.” She looked up at her mother. “What happened? How did you break up? Was it a bad break?”
For the first time Ashlyn could ever remember, Laura Allan had real tears in her eyes. She couldn’t ever remember seeing her cry. Even at Mémé’s death, she’d cried crocodile tears.
“I don’t know.” Her mother leaned against the arm of the sofa and pulled a pillow onto her lap. “We’d dated all through high school. We had a few spats here and there, mostly because he never introduced me to his parents. But I understood. He said they’d just make trouble for us. They already had a wealthy girl they wanted him to date, but she was younger. He’d promised that we’d elope right after high school, and then it’d be too late for them to stop us. But right after prom, he drove me home.” She released a deep breath and wiped away a tear. “I thought that we’d continue the evening.” Her mother peeked up. “You know…I thought he would have rented us a hotel room. I’d already told him my mother thought I was staying at a friend’s house. But he parked in front of my house, didn’t even bother pulling into the driveway, and asked for his school ring back, insisting it was over.”
“Wow…” Ashlyn finally interrupted. “This is sounding a lot like what happened between Devin and me. Only Devin didn’t want a ring, he wanted me to abort my baby.”
“That’s what I mean, Ashlyn. I really loved Gregory, and I’m pretty sure he loved me. And then when you told me what happened, and that Devin was the baby’s father, well, I guess it just seemed odd.”
Ashlyn ran her hand through her hair, twisting it and then draping it over her shoulder, holding it as if it were her lifeline. Now she wasn’t sure what she should do. “I need to go back home, I guess. Talk to Mark.”
Her mother nodded.
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I certainly don’t care about their money, but I feel as though I’m not being fair to my son. If he has grandparents, he should be able to meet them.” She looked back at her mother. “Is Gregory Burke a good man?”
Her mother took in a deep breath and then let it whoosh out in one long exhale. “He was, honey. But something changed. He dated the woman his parents wanted him to after we’d broken up. She was a year younger than we were. But then her father murdered her, and Gregory was never the same.” Ashlyn gasped, and her mother just nodded. “It was horrible. I tried to talk to him when I found out, but he refused to see me. After that, he turned into a ruthless businessman, just like his father and grandfather, even though he’d never wanted to be like them, swore that he had no desire for their life. Now he owns just about every piece of commercial property in Edenbury.”
CHAPTER TEN
Mark followed Jay down the long row of books, watching as she pulled individual titles out and then deftly placed them back in their niche. As hard as he focused, he couldn’t make out the different names of the novels, though.
Her hair wasn’t up anymore; instead, it flowed around her shoulders and halfway down her back in a fiery blaze of curls. Her long white dress billowed behind her as she flitted along the aisles, holding up book after book as though she were appraising each one.
Why had she brought him here? And more importantly, why was he here? He didn’t want to be here, but he couldn’t help but follow her through the darkness, hoping she’d reveal something that would contribute to his case.
He inhaled deeply, relishing the earthy scent of the library as well as the ever-present fragrance of jasmine. The glabrous green-leafed vines with clusters of white flowers had worked their way through the stone and beveled glass on the second floor of the ancient structure, slipping through the cracks and finding a home among the old books that lined the shelves.
An opaque mist rose from the wood floor and circled his legs, slowly crawling up the lower half of his body. The dense vapor worked its way up his chest, separating into strips of smoke. The snowy-white tendrils of the fog stretched into fingers, then entwined in his hair, surrounding his neck and slowly pulling him toward Jay.
“Mark…” Jay whispered in his ear. Her cool breath caressed his neck, sending shivers down his spine.
“No!” Mark shouted, bolting upright in bed. “Oh, God!” He expelled a long breath, his heart pounding as if he’d had a nightmare. He fell back onto the bed, punching the pillow beneath his head and jerking the blanket up to his chin.
It was no use. He wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Why in the world would he be fantasizing about Jay? Well, he wasn’t really fantasizing. He hadn’t thought of anything sexual—yet. He’d just been following her down the aisle of books. For some reason, his subconscious thought that maybe she could help him find what he was looking for, it seemed.
Still, he didn’t like other women entering his dreams, even platonically. He wanted Ashlyn in his life and his dreams. He sat upright again and scooped his phone off the nightstand, glancing at the time. Four a.m.
“Gr
eat,” he grumbled. He’d be exhausted by the end of the day.
He needed to question Jay. He’d given her enough time; it was time for answers. She had shut down on him almost immediately the other day, but it was clear she knew something. Even if she didn’t know what secrets she possessed, she’d spent time with the old man, so he may have mentioned someone. Captain had called him with the ID, which matched what Jay had said. Buck, short for Buchanan.
The man had an outstanding warrant for arrest for the murders of his wife and daughter twenty-eight years ago. Had Jay known that about him? Mark understood that she would be polite to the homeless community, since they were in the library often, but why would a twenty-something-year-old college girl socialize to the point of playing board games? Yes, he definitely needed to have a conversation with Jay.
Decision made, Mark jumped out of bed and made a beeline for the shower. A cold shower would do his mind—he glanced down—and his body good.
Wide-eyed and anxious after his cold shower, he decided to text Ashlyn and let her know he was thinking about her—because he was. No matter what his mind was attempting to do in his dream, Ashlyn fulfilled his every fantasy. He simply didn’t want anyone else—ever.
They had a lot to discuss, but he also had a murder to solve, so maybe it was better she was away. Mark hoped he wouldn’t wake her, but once he got rolling, his mind would be occupied. He grabbed his phone and tapped out a few words, Wanted you to know I’m thinking about you. Love you! C U Soon! <3
“That should do it,” he said to his calico as she curled around his legs. “Nothing too mushy, just the facts.” She let out a long meow in response, which he accepted as agreement, even though she probably just wanted fed.
After feeding kitty—he’d never bothered to name the cute rescue cat—he shoved his Glock into his specially made harness.
Since he dressed in plain clothes, he didn’t want civilians questioning why he had a gun when he entered public buildings. The slim in-waist holster did a great job of hiding his weapon. Of course, anyone who gave him more than a cursory glance would finger him as a cop. Yeah, he was a detective, but he could never work UC. Captain had almost laughed when he’d requested working undercover on a few stings.
Though, when he was younger, Captain had allowed him to pick up a few streetwalkers when the taxpayers complained that the city needed to clean up the streets.
Most of the women had pinned him for a cop immediately. Only the more desperate hookers bought his story that he was just a lonely college kid looking for a good time with no strings attached. He assumed the captain—who’d been a lieutenant at the time—had been testing him.
Nothing he did would change it; he looked like a cop.
Mark grabbed his keys, wallet, radio, and cuffs off the kitchen counter, where he tossed them the moment he came home, and was heading out the door when his phone buzzed.
Hey, Babe! You’re up early. I’ve been up all night talking with Mom. We made a major breakthrough in our relationship. Though, I don’t know how long that’ll last. I’m crashing now. Have a great day. I can’t wait to see you. I love you! <3 <3 <3
Mark laughed. Ashlyn would never use abbreviations, even in a text. And, wow! Three hearts. It must have been a great breakthrough. He quickly responded: Wonderful news! Get some sleep and call me later. Heading out.
She responded with a smiley and a heart, which meant that she’d received the message, and the conversation was over. They’d both admitted how they hated it when the texts went back and forth because no one knew how to end the conversation and agreed a smiley works wonders.
Mark decided his first stop would be the library. If there had been another break-in, Mark wanted to find the culprit first. He’d taken it upon himself to install new locks on all the doors yesterday and had kept a set of keys to do some additional investigating.
Changing locks wasn’t in his job description, but it hadn’t been the first time he’d done it for a citizen. When he was on patrol, he’d worked the scene of a car theft. The woman was in her seventies and had been distressed. Not because of monetary loss, rather because she’d left her keys under the seat while she was inside the mall, since she had a keypad on the door. The thief not only had her car, he had her home address and keys to her house.
Understanding that she lived alone, Mark had driven her to Home Depot and then to her house and had changed all the locks. The city had given him a certificate of commendation, but he’d only seen it as his duty: to protect and serve.
It wasn’t five yet, so the Pennsylvania sky was unlit, with barely even the light of the moon penetrating the dense cloud cover. As soon as he rounded the last corner near the library, Mark extinguished all the lights, shifted his cruiser into neutral, turned off the ignition, and coasted within a hundred feet of the building. He smoothly parked his unmarked car along the curb and got out of the vehicle, barely touching the door to the jamb.
Instead of walking up the sidewalk, Mark crossed the narrow concrete and turned onto a side street that ran beside the old structure. Eyeing the back alley, his gaze darted back and forth as he crept toward the old building.
The library wasn’t the only historic construction on the street. One building after another, all in the same medina stone, lined the entire block. Even an old church with an ancient clock tower that no longer chimed and a remodeled fire station resembled the outside walls of the library.
It wasn’t the greatest area of town, but Mark had always enjoyed driving through it, appreciating the nostalgic feel of the mammoth creations, all with intricate carved patterns and elaborate windows and moldings. Modern-day configurations just didn’t offer the same appeal.
He wasn’t, however, in the habit of searching a building without backup. He hoped the fact that the sun was almost up at least meant that most of the drunks—who were the worst criminals to deal with—would have already passed out. When he was a uniformed officer, he’d learned that he could reason with just about anyone but a plastered fool.
Mark easily hopped the three-foot-high black-iron gate, which kept wanderers from trouncing across the green lawn, and padded his way up the grassy knoll toward the rear of the edifice. If he were going to break in, he’d go to the rear doors. He’d recognized years ago that in order to be a good cop, he had to think like a criminal.
A long screech and then inaudible whispers had Mark drawing his Glock. He inched his way along the outside wall just as a man was closing and locking the gate that surrounded the patio. He saw several people disappear around the hedge behind the library, but didn’t dare shout out and alert the man in front of him.
With one bound from behind the green shrub, Mark shoved the man against the gate, immediately wrenching one of his arms behind his back and then the other. “Police! You’re under arrest for trespassing.”
The man didn’t resist, so Mark unsnapped the leather clip on his belt and retrieved his cuffs. He snapped the metal over each wrist and then turned the man toward him. “Who’re your friends?”
“No one.”
“Of course.” Mark looked down at the man’s soiled hands, still holding a key. “Where d’ya get that key?”
“Friend.”
“You got any weapons or drugs on ya? Needles?”
“Nuh-uh. Don’t do drugs.”
Mark carefully patted the man down, careful not to stick himself in the event the man had lied, which was a pretty safe bet, since most of the people he arrested lied. He took the key and unlocked the gate, still holding onto the man’s arm. “What were ya doin’ on private property?”
“Nothin’. Just hangin’ out with friends.”
Glancing around, Mark couldn’t see any signs of a break-in, but he walked to the rear door, dragging the man along, and checked, rattling both doors. Solid. “You been inside?”
“Not ter’nite.”
“Last night?”
“No, sir. Only in da day.”
Mark nodded, his gaze raking across the a
rea. “So, what were you doing here?”
“Told ya. Just hangin’ out.”
“Did you know Buck?”
The man responded only with a nod.
“Let’s go.” Mark maneuvered the man around and pushed him forward. Dammit! He didn’t think to get a key to the surrounding gate, and there was no way the man would be able to hop the gate while handcuffed. He reached in his pocket for the key he’d taken from the man. Maybe. He slipped the key into the gate and sure enough, it unlatched easily.
“Where d’ya get this key, mister?” Mark asked again.
“Told ya. A friend.”
Mark pushed the man through the opening, keeping a continual watch of his surroundings, wondering where the man’s friends went. “Looks like your friends dumped you. Some friends.”
The man harrumphed in response, but offered nothing else, so Mark led him down the street to his patrol car.
Before opening the door, he did a more thorough pat down, since he didn’t have a cage in his vehicle. “Got ID?” Mark asked when he didn’t find a wallet.
“No, sir. Don’t need one.”
“Gotta name?”
“Bill.”
Of course, Mark thought.
Tired of the one and two-word answers, Mark placed his hand on the man’s head and directed him into the car. He pressed a hard forearm against the man’s head, pinning him to the seat while he strapped him in. Safer than him coming across the seat if he decided to go psycho inside the car once they started moving.
“Don’t let me hear the click of the seatbelt unsnapping,” Mark warned. “You’re a big guy, so I’d have to defend myself. I don’t like to use deadly force, but I will if I have to. Understand?”
Bill nodded that he understood.
Mark had learned a long time ago to speak their language and let them know he meant business. He never used unnecessary force, but made sure offenders knew he would. Amazing how quickly just the threat of force terminated most situations.
The Library: Where Life Checks Out Page 10