Exposed

by Rhonda Pollero

  “Grisom?” a guard asked.

  She nodded. “Your attorney is here.”

  “Do I have to see him?” she asked, not really relishing the notion of a second lecture in as many days.

  “Follow me.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Darby was led through a different part of the wagon-wheel maze, in the opposite direction from where she’d had her disastrous meeting with the psychiatrists and Mr. Greer. Her attorney was obviously back for a postmortem of how she’d done. Somehow that made the placemat seem infinitely more appealing.

  She noticed the faint scent of his cologne before his silhouette was fully in view. “Jack?” Her heart skipped a beat and she felt immediately comforted by his presence.

  He turned and greeted her with a warm smile. “How are you doing?”

  Darby waited for the guard to leave and then honestly answered, “Lousy. I miss my little girl.”

  “Sit,” he said, waving his hand in an arc near the chair. “Some weird stuff has been going on.”

  “Weird? Weirder than confessing to a murder that didn’t happen? Or weirder than being locked away with some seriously troubled people?”

  “I’m sorry. I know this must be tough,” Jack said. “But first, let me get you caught up.” He told her about the break-in at her office, and as gently as possible he told her about Sean and Peggy.

  He watched her expression and braced himself for some sort of reaction. Nothing. Hearing that the woman she had mentored had had an affair with her husband didn’t seem to faze her. Darby never ceased to surprise him. “Can you think of any reason why someone would break into your clinic?”

  She shook her head. “We keep maybe a hundred dollars in petty cash.”

  “That’s missing.”

  “There are drugs in a locked cabinet in Exam Room One. But I’m the only one with a key. Or I was. I turned the key over to Carl when he arrived to take over the practice. Was the door pried open?”

  “No. What about the safe in your office?” He watched some of the color drain from her cheeks.

  “Paperwork mostly. My financial records. I’ve been sneaking them out of the house a little at a time since the weeks before I had Mia. Our birth certificates, passports—that sort of thing. I was hedging my bets in case Sean decided to take the baby and run.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “He had me take the baby for an expedited passport. He said she’d need one in case we decided to take a few days off and go to the Bahamas. And as a beneficiary of the trust, Sean would gain full control over Mia’s share. The passport arrived a week before I gave Mia to Lyssa.”

  “Did anyone but Sean know about the passport?”

  Darby shrugged. “Peggy was there when I put it in the safe.”

  “Does Peggy know the combination?”

  Darby let out a slow breath. “Yes. I gave her the code when she came to see me right after Mia was born. Carl. He needed some of that information for the bookkeeper.”

  “Anything else in the safe?” he pressed.

  “A file.”

  “What kind of file?”

  “The patient who has Mia.”

  “Shit,” Jack muttered between clenched teeth.

  “What?”

  He heard panic in her voice and tried to adjust his tone to keep her calm. After all, he only had a theory. “The alarm went off at your office and was logged in at 10:01 by the police dispatch.”

  “Okay.”

  “No, not okay,” Jack countered. For some reason he reached out and covered her hand with his. He felt a slight tremor and the fear she must be feeling was evident in her eyes. She was sleep deprived and he couldn’t imagine the level of separation anxiety warring inside her. He’d seen his sister-in-law with her little boy and she never let the little guy out of her sight.

  “Peggy was there in five minutes. I got there a few minutes later, and the police arrived at ten-seventeen.”

  She raked her hand through her hair. “Was the door forced or the lock tampered with?”

  “No.”

  “Then how did they get in, get the petty cash and empty a locked safe, and be out of there in under five minutes?” Darby absently twisted her hair up into a bun. Jack tried not to notice the gentle slope of her neck, or the temptation it inspired. He tried, but he failed.

  “Are you saying…?”

  “W-what?” Jack asked, returning to the present.

  “You think someone staged the robbery for a hundred dollars and some paperwork?”

  “You just told me the paperwork had the name and information on the woman who has Mia.”

  “It does, but I wrote ‘relocated’ on the outside of the folder and I don’t normally put folders in my safe. That was a bonus. The person had to be after the paperwork. And the only person who would want it would be Sean except that Sean thinks Mia is dead, so he’d have no reason to need her passport or go looking for her.” Darby blanched. “Unless he’s figured it out.”

  He reached across the cool metal table and took her hands. “That’s what I was thinking. So while I understand the reason you did what you did, Darby, it’s time to tell the truth. I know the State’s Attorney assigned to your case. He’s tough but he’s a good guy. All we have to do is have Lyssa bring the baby back.”

  Darby vehemently shook her head. “I can’t risk it. Sean killed my parents. Even though Mia is his flesh and blood, he’d kill her just to punish me.”

  “I think I may have a way around that,” Jack said, still clutching her hands. They were soft and seemed so small compared to his own. “I went up into the attic of your house.” He told her about the DVR he’d found and that he had a friend. “Big Tony should have discs to me by tomorrow.”

  Darby squeezed her eyes closed and pulled away from Jack.

  “Assuming they show Sean beating you, we can get a judge to issue a protective order for both you and the baby.”

  Darby shook her head. “You don’t know Sean. An order won’t do anything to deter him.”

  “But Declan will.”

  “Who is Declan?” she asked.

  “My older brother. He’s a private detective in West Palm Beach. After college I went to law school. He went to the gym. Trust me, once you get a look at Declan, you’ll feel totally safe.”

  “So, how would this work?” Darby asked.

  “We have to get Lyssa back. Give me her number.”

  Darby met his gaze as his pen hung in the air. “I can’t.”

  “What?”

  She sighed and raked her fingers through her hair. “I went to a gas station and bought two throwaway phones. I gave one to Lyssa and kept one for myself. She is supposed to call me when she gets settled.”

  “But you don’t remember the number?”

  “It was on a piece of paper in my office safe.”

  “Did anyone know about that?”

  “No.”

  “Where is your throwaway?”

  “In the pocket of the black dress I was wearing when I got arrested. Lyssa’s number is already saved into the contacts.”

  Jack seemed to relax. “Good, because your personal belongings are transferred with you, so the phone is close by.”

  “How do I get it?” Darby asked.

  “You can’t, but as your attorney, I can. But you’ll need to do something first.”

  “Anything.”

  “Fire Greer.”

  “Will you be here for the second psychiatrist appointment?” she asked, hearing the panic in her own voice.

  “Yes, and as soon as you finish that session, I’ll get in touch with Lyssa and—”

  “She’ll hang up on you,” Darby insisted. “I was very emphatic about her not speaking to anyone except to me directly.”

  “We can get around that. As soon as the meeting with the psychiatrist is over, I’ll go down and get your belongings and meet you back here. I’ve got to write a motion to the court requesting that the items be turned over to me. You j
ust have to sign it.” He stood. “I’ll be back in about an hour or so. What time is your appointment?”

  “Three o’clock-ish. Being on time isn’t a big thing here.”

  He started for the door and Darby jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you.” His hand went to the small of her back and he applied just a touch of pressure. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough to make her heart rate fluctuate. She tried to tell herself she was just grateful, but in truth she was feeling something far stronger. Jack was more than an attorney and confidant. He was the only person she trusted.

  * * *

  On the short trip to his office, Jack called Declan and asked him to meet him there. And as requested, Declan was out in front of the building, massive arms crossed against his chest. Jack could go to the gym every day for the rest of his life and he’d never be buff like Declan. Declan was a freak of nature. Or at least a freak of the dysfunctional Kavanagh family. He was six feet, four inches with jet black hair and bright blue eyes. He was a health nut and when it came to his work, he was like a dog with a bone. Jack had yet to find the task Declan couldn’t resolve.

  Darby’s case was important. And not just because a mother and baby were in jeopardy. No, he thought as he circled the block for a second time looking for an open spot. Not an easy task in the tiny city of Stuart.

  He got lucky on the third circle. He and Declan greeted each other with a fist bump and a resounding pat on the back. “You look like shit, little brother,” Declan said.

  “This is a tough one,” he admitted as he unlocked the door. Once they were inside he relocked it and turned the sign to read OUT OF OFFICE FOR THE DAY since he didn’t know exactly how long he would be gone.

  Ignoring the blinking light on his voicemail button, he sat behind his desk with Declan across from him and shared what he knew about Darby and her crazy scheme to save her baby from the wrath of her abusive husband.

  “No way to get him on the parents’ murder?” Declan asked.

  “Already ruled accidental by the medical examiner. It would take a complete confession from Sean in order to get an ME to change the manner of death. We have to focus on getting the baby back so I can get her out of Green Haven and then—and this is where you come in—I need you at her side twenty-four-seven until I can get a restraining order.”

  Jack turned on his computer and began to type.

  “Is this the woman from Sewell’s Point you called me about a while back?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, at least you have a paying client.”

  Jack stopped typing for a minute and met his brother’s gaze. “She’s more than that,” he admitted. “I saw the bruises.”

  “And she’s pretty, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Jack said.

  “You can’t go back fifteen years and change what happened,” Declan warned. “She isn’t Mom. Try not to get too attached.”

  “Who said I was attached?”

  “I’m your brother. I know you.”

  “I empathize with her. He’s been beating her for years. She’s practically afraid of her own shadow.”

  “Well, that has the beginnings of a healthy relationship.”

  “I hate you.”

  Declan laughed. “You can’t hate me, you need me.”

  “Then remind me to hate you when this is all over.”

  * * *

  “Grisom?”

  This time when the guard called her name Darby was in the sunroom trying to blend in with the furniture. It had been an eventful day. As excited as she was by the prospect of having Mia with her again, she couldn’t celebrate in her current surroundings. Not when the yellow alarm lights kept dropping from the ceiling. She learned quickly that that meant stop what you’re doing and stand with your face looking straight ahead and your hands flat against the cement wall. In a matter of seconds, a small contingent of officers would enter the locked facility, tasers drawn.

  One particular crisis concerned a young man who wanted to use the telephone during non-telephone hours. When informed he’d have to wait until after dinner, he attempted to rip the phone from the wall. He was yelling and cursing and as soon as he saw the guards, his level of irritation seemed to increase tenfold.

  The inmate’s cursing was creative and loud. The guards gave him one chance to stop banging the industrial-strength metal receiver. When he failed to comply, he was tasered. After wetting himself, he fell to the floor, writhing and yelling “Okay! Okay!”

  He was placed in zip ties and the guards took him to the segregation cell, the one the regulars called a punishment cell. Darby hadn’t ever seen one, but she’d heard about them during the first half of her court-ordered stay. Apparently it was padded and the inmate was made to strip, then a dress-like garment was velcroed on and the inmate was left in there until medical arrived to make sure the tasering hadn’t caused any permanent damage. The reason for the dress was that it was made from rip-resistant fabric, just in case the inmate was suicidal.

  Enough time in Green Haven and Darby was pretty sure she might become suicidal. The clock was ticking very slowly as it neared three o’clock. And still no Jack. Her anxiety level was off the charts. She kept mentally reminding herself that she could be mere hours away from reuniting with her sweet baby as the guards gave the all-clear for the patients to go on about their business.

  “Grisom?”

  Darby offered a weak smile to the female guard, then followed her down the corridor that led to the visiting areas. She prayed it was Jack; she didn’t relish the idea of Greer or even worse, Sean, waiting for her behind the reinforced glass wall.

  Only one half of her fears came true. Seated in a perfectly pressed, designer suit, Sean was over by the window. The guard practically had to shove Darby inside the room.

  “What do you want?” Darby asked.

  Sean tilted his head to one side. Obviously he’d taken notice of her change in tone. “No kiss for your devoted husband?”

  He stood and stepped toward her and she instinctively recoiled. Sean stopped, raising his hands in mock surrender. “My hat is off to you, Darby. I never would have guessed you had it in you.”

  “Guessed what?” she asked, watching his every move like a trapped animal tracking its predator.

  “I know you,” he taunted. When she said nothing, he continued, “You don’t have it in you to kill your own child. Greer told me you tanked your interview yesterday. Apparently the staff shrink didn’t think you were being honest.”

  “That’s one shrink,” Darby countered. “Fran believes me, so today’s appointment is the only one that matters. All I need is a majority of three doctors.”

  He reached for a manila envelope on the table and took out the newspaper from this morning. “Which won’t happen because you are and always have been a shitty liar. You’ll stand trial for Mia’s murder. I’ll play the role of the tortured father whose infant daughter was murdered by his jealous wife in retaliation for his affair.”

  Darby felt a tight knot in her stomach.

  “When I finish, everyone within the sound of my voice will want your head on a pike. Read the paper, Darby. Everyone hates a baby killer.”

  “They hate wife beaters, too.”

  Sean made a tsk sound with his mouth as he shook his head from side to side. “Like you’ll ever be able to prove that. Greer doesn’t think you have a chance in hell, so, I hired another attorney and this requires your signature.” He handed the manila envelope over to her.

  Sighing in disgust, Darby pulled the pages out and began to read. She flipped to the second page and by the third paragraph, she was seething. “You have to be kidding me.”

  “I’m just going with the story you’re telling. Just sign the papers and we’ll be divorced in a month or two.”

  “I’m fine with that,” she said in clipped tones. “But you’re nuts if you think I’m going to give you one-point-three million dollars. And if you’re so sure I didn’t kill Mia,
why aren’t you asking for custody?”

  “You can afford the money and if I asked for custody I’d be admitting that she’s still alive,” Sean countered. “Either agree to my terms or I’ll become the state of Florida’s primo witness when they charge you with first degree murder.”

  “Go screw yourself,” she said as she turned and pounded on the door. “Guard!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Is there a problem?” the guard asked as she eyed both of them.

  “I’d like to return to the pod,” Darby said.

  “Don’t forget these,” Sean said, slapping the envelope and the newspaper against her midsection.

  Her hands were shaking and she was drowning in her own fury. Once she’d returned to the day room, she fell into a chair and stuffed the newspaper inside the envelope and tortured herself by reading the Petition for Dissolution of Marriage from cover to cover. Sean’s greed knew no bounds.

  Not only did he want the cash, he wanted the house, his car, and the beachfront cottage Darby owned in the Bahamas. She’d bought that little getaway long before marrying Sean. But something was bugging her. “Why?” she wondered aloud. “No mention of the baby? If Sean really believed the baby was alive, he would be making a play for her.” That was Sean. Everything, including people, belonged to him and she’d never seen him walk away from anything in the time they’d been together. Especially his own flesh and blood. She was missing something.

  “Grisom?”

  Darby looked up and then followed the guard back to the visiting area. Much to her relief, Jack was waiting for her. He was pacing in the small room and Darby was instantly on the alert.

  “Hi,” he greeted her.

  “Hi,” she returned as she rolled the envelope and the newspaper into a twist. “Sean was just here.”

  Jack took her hand and led her to the table. They sat next to one another. His dark eyes scanned her face and she wondered what she must look like. The only grooming products she’d been given were a bottle of harsh shampoo and a small, black barber’s comb. She was suddenly keenly aware of her appearance. Most of the fury she had clenched in her stomach evaporated, replaced by silly, girlish thoughts of her appearance—or more accurately, what Jack must think of her appearance. It didn’t help that he was looking at her with those intense eyes.