by J. L. Fynn
But soon I didn’t have a choice. The porch was flooded with light, and Maggie stood in the doorway staring back at me. I reached for the door handle and scrambled from the car so quickly that my feet caught on the frame and I fell to my knees. Maggie was beside me in a second. She dropped to her knees too, her nightgown billowing out around her.
“Sweet Jesus, Tommy, what’s happened?” She took my face in her hands and forced me to look at her. I tried to shake her off, but she dug her fingers into the back of my neck. “Answer me. Where did this blood come from?”
I stopped struggling. I met her eyes, wide with fear and alarm. “He’s dead.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Jim is dead.”
Maggie dropped her hands and slumped back onto her heels. “Jim?” She looked at the car over my shoulder.
“Maggie, I’m so sorry.”
“How?”
I shook my head. I wanted to tell her everything, but I couldn’t.
Maggie took my hands and pulled them into her lap. She looked over the cuts on my forearm. “Come inside. This needs to be cleaned.”
“It was a setup.” I yanked my arm away and pushed myself back to my feet. “That fucking bastard set us up. He sent us to Chicago to be killed.”
Maggie stayed on the ground, staring up at me with an expression that said she was trying to keep calm while, at the same time, trying to decide whether I’d snapped. “Michael wanted you dead?”
“He’s trying to take over the clan. He knew Jim and I would stand in his way.”
“But no one is going to follow him. He’s a traitor and a murderer.” Maggie reached up to me and I pulled her to her feet. “You can tell everyone what’s happened, and he’ll be finished.”
“Or he’ll just say I’m the one who killed Jim to take his place once his dad is gone.”
“But what proof does he have? You were Jim’s best friend.”
“He knows about Jimmy Boy, Maggie. And it won’t take much to convince other people of the truth. If I was willing to betray my best friend once, why wouldn’t I do it again?”
For the first time since hearing the news, Maggie lost her ability to keep a level head. Her face crumpled and tears began to course down her cheeks. “This can’t be happening, Tommy. Tell me this is a terrible dream.”
I crushed her against me and buried my face in her hair. “I wish I could. Christ, I wish I could take it all back. I would give anything to take it all back.”
“What are we going to do?”
Something about the desperation in her voice scared me more than anything Michael Sheedy had done or could do. Maggie, for as soft and fragile as she looked, was stronger than any person I’d ever known, but even she’d been broken this time. It was time to keep my promise to Jim. I had to get Maggie and Jimmy as far away from the Village as I could, but there was one promise I couldn’t keep.
“We’re going to get out of here. But first, I’m going to kill Michael Sheedy.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
THE CUTS ON my arm had stopped throbbing around Mississippi, but whatever concoction Maggie slathered on it brought the searing pain raging back to life. I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed through my nose while she cleaned and bandaged my wounds.
“You know you can’t go after Michael Sheedy,” she said.
I opened my eyes to glare at her. “And why’s that? You don’t honestly think he should get away with what he’s done?”
“Of course not, but killing him isn’t going to bring Jim back.”
I yanked my arm out of her grip and pushed my chair back from the kitchen table. “Don’t you think I know that?”
“Shhh.” Maggie held up her hand, turning to look at the doorway. “Jimmy Boy is sleeping.”
I leaned forward on my knees and rubbed my face hard, trying to get ahold of my emotions. If I were going to do this, I had to keep my mind clear and focused. Going off half-cocked was the quickest way to get caught, and then Michael would get exactly what he wanted. “I’m sorry. But, Maggie, you know I can’t just walk away from this. He has to pay.”
“Don’t you get it?” Maggie stood and packed her first aid supplies back into their carved wooden box. “There was a reason Michael sent you all the way to Chicago. He might have wanted you dead, but there was no way he could do it here in the Village and get away with it. If you go after him, he’ll kill you and claim self-defense. Or he won’t kill you, but your actions will prove his conspiracy story. Not only will you not get your revenge, but you’ll give him all the legitimacy he needs to take over.”
“Why are you so sure he’ll get that chance?”
“I’m not sure of anything, Tommy.” She slammed the box lid closed. She stiffened at the loud bang it made and blew out a long breath. When she’d found her stillness again, she sat down and took my hands in hers. “That’s not true. I’m sure of one thing. I don’t want to take any more chances. I don’t want to make any more mistakes. And this is a huge mistake. Two years ago you asked me to leave with you and I said no. I’m not saying no anymore. We can leave. Tonight. Right now.”
“With what?” The feel of her skin on mine was weakening my resolve. “At the very least I have to get the money from Pop’s safe or we won’t even make it to Baton Rouge.” It was a slight exaggeration. I still had a pretty sizable nest egg, even after living off my savings for the last two years, but it wasn’t enough. Not for what was ahead of us.
“We don’t have to live extravagantly, Tommy.”
“I’m not worried about having a fine house or a nice car, Maggie. If we leave now? This way? We’re going to be on the run.” I laced my fingers in hers and stared into her green eyes. It was hard to be blunt, to hurt her more than I already had, but she had to understand what she was getting into. “Jim’s dead and Michael will convince everyone I did it. Our disappearance will confirm his story, and even Pop will believe him. Travelers have very long memories. They won’t just let us get away with this.”
Maggie’s expression was pained, but I only saw it for an instant before she turned her face away. “What kind of life is that?”
“It’s not a life,” I said, trying my damnedest to keep my voice low despite the frustration that was slowly boiling over to rage inside my chest. I let go of her hands and stood up. I crossed to the sink to put some distance between us. “That’s why I think it’s a bad idea. If we run, we’ll always be running. I have to end this now.”
Maggie’s dark curls swung when she shook her head. “We’re damned either way, but I won’t stand by and let someone else get hurt. Encouraging you to go with Jim was a mistake. One I’ll regret for the rest of my life, but I’m not letting you do this. If you have to get the money from Pop’s safe, fine. Go get it. But there’s something else you need to get too. Something that just might keep us safe from Michael Sheedy.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
MY HAND SHOOK as I reached for the doorknob. Breaking into Pop’s safe had been easy. It couldn’t even be called “breaking in” since the door had been unlocked and the only thing I had to do was avoid waking up a sick old man on my way to his safe. I’d found what I’d been looking for right away. The safe on the wall behind its ugly watercolor sailboat opened noiselessly when I put in Sarah Reilly’s birthdate, and the money was just sitting there, like it had been set out especially for me. It was amazing. Half a million dollars, and it all fit right into one small bag. It wasn’t even that heavy slung over my back now.
Breaking into Michael Sheedy’s house was a different ballgame. He’d already tried to have me killed once and getting caught here would be the only excuse he’d need to pull the trigger himself. I turned the knob, unsurprised when it gave easily. No one in the Village locked their doors. It would be an insult to every clan member you were trying to keep out. Like hanging a sign that said, “I don’t trust any of you.” Even Michael, as paranoid as he was, wouldn’t be that stupid.
I opened the door just wide enough to squeez
e through and found myself in the kitchen. I’d come around the back to avoid being seen, but now I was disoriented. I’d only been in the house a handful of times, and had never gone past the staircase in the front hall. The only light came from outside the house, which didn’t help the situation. I stood there blinking for a full minute, trying to get my bearings. There were two doorways that led from the kitchen to the rest of the house, one in front of me and one to my left. I didn’t have time to waste fumbling around looking for Michael’s office, but the more time I spent debating, the better chance there was that someone would wake up and come downstairs. I made a choice and went to the doorway across from where I stood.
The windowless hallway it led to was even darker than the kitchen, and I took another few seconds to let my eyes adjust. I could make out the shape of a table halfway down the hall, so I kept close to the opposite wall. I ran my fingertips along the chair rail as I walked, careful to avoid brushing my shoulder against any of the framed photos that hung on the wall. The floor creaked and I froze. My heart and lungs both ceased to function as I waited for any indication that I’d been heard. It felt like minutes ticked by before I could breathe again. My whole body trembled and my hands felt cold but slick with sweat at the same time.
I continued to inch along the hall until I came to another doorway. This one opened into the formal living room and my relief at finding a familiar part of the house nearly made my knees buckle. I crossed the room, thankful for the thick carpet that muffled my steps and quickly found the front hall. To my right were the doors to Michael’s office, and to the left was a staircase that would make this last five feet the most treacherous. A single squeaky floorboard here could be my undoing. I took a deep breath and slid my foot from the carpet to the hardwood. Finally, after what felt like a thousand slow and hesitant steps, I stood in front of the office. My heart, useless just a minute ago, was thrumming in my ear with a deafening intensity. I mentally chided myself to get it together and reached for the handle.
The watercolor hiding Michael’s safe was a seascape, and I had to suppress a chuckle that seemed to bubble up from nowhere. The paintings here and at Pop’s house were horrendous, even by Traveler standards, and Jim and I had once joked that they were the best way to keep someone from accidentally discovering the safes they hid. Who would bother to take more than a passing look at such terrible artwork? But I already knew what was behind the painting, and thanks to Maggie, I knew what was inside that too.
The amount to which people underestimated her was astounding. I’d known she was incredible from the moment I laid eyes on her. But Bridget and Michael hadn’t been at all careful around the unassuming girl they paid to keep house and look after their children. They’d had conversations loud enough to overhear and left important papers out for her to see. They never suspected that Maggie was paying attention to every bit of it.
Maggie hadn’t said a word to anyone until now, but if what she’d told me were true, it would be Bridget and Michael who’d have reason to be scared. If the book she’d told me about actually existed, then Michael Sheedy would be forced to discourage anyone from trying to go after me once I left. Because if they found me, they’d also find records of all his shady bookkeeping and double-dealing. The money I’d taken from Pop’s safe tonight would look like peanuts compared to what he’d skimmed over the last ten years.
And the money he’d stolen would be the least of it. According to Maggie, the Sheedys had been keeping a record of other clan members’ misdeeds as well. It looked like Jim, Marie, and I weren’t the only people he’d been willing to blackmail to get what he wanted, and there were a lot more like us who had everything to lose if certain secrets were revealed.
Michael wasn’t sentimental enough to use Bridget’s birthday as his combination, but he’d been careless enough to open the safe more than once in front of Maggie. And thank God for that. The safe opened with a near-silent click. I reached inside and pulled out a thick leather-bound book, bulging with bits of paper and held closed with a leather cord. I turned it over in my hands. It looked far less impressive than the 500 grand in the bag on my back, but it was worth a thousand times more.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I TRIED NOT to look at the Honda parked out front when I got back to Jim’s house. It would be discovered when the sun rose in a few hours, and Jim would be discovered along with it, but for now the dark blue paint kept it pretty well hidden. It felt terrible to just leave him in the backseat like that for someone else to find, but sticking around for the funeral was out of the question. Even with Michael’s book, I wasn’t safe here in the Village.
I went around the house to where my truck was parked. I put the ledger into the bag with the cash and shoved it under the front seat. Maggie hadn’t loaded anything into the truck yet, and I wondered if she’d put her things inside the trailer instead. It would all have to be moved. The trailer would only slow us down and draw attention.
She was waiting for me on the sofa when I went back into the house. She was still in her nightgown, although she’d put on a baggy old cardigan. There were no suitcases or boxes in the living room.
“I should’ve told you we’re leaving the trailer,” I said. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll have everything in the truck.” I turned to go back outside. We had to leave soon if we were going to get a decent head start.
“I didn’t put anything in the trailer.”
I stopped, halfway through the door. Something in her tone sent ice water through my veins, but I tried to ignore it. I smiled at her. “Okay. So, where is everything you packed?”
“I didn’t pack anything.”
She wouldn’t look at me. The ice water was getting harder to ignore as it made its way toward my heart. “Probably for the best,” I said, my smile still firmly in place. “We can buy whatever we need when we find a place to settle down.”
Finally, she raised her head. Her eyes were bloodshot, and fresh tear tracks stained her cheeks. “That’s the thing. There won’t be any settling, will there? They’ll always be after us.”
“I know it seems hopeless, but I would never let anything happen to you.” I went to her and kneeled down to look up at her. “Or to the boys. I swear.”
New tears spilled down her face, but she smiled as she laid a hand against my cheek. “Of course you wouldn’t, love. I know you wouldn’t.”
“Then please, let’s go. I got the book. We have plenty of money, and we’ll have each other. We’ll get out of here tonight and figure the rest out tomorrow.”
She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to mine. “I have to stay,” she said. She kissed me again, then stood up.
Suddenly I was panicked. Still on my knees I wrapped my arms around her hips. “Please don’t do this, Maggie. I know you’re scared. I’m scared too, but I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you. If you don’t want to run, I understand. I’ll stay. We’ll figure something out.”
Maggie hugged my head to her belly. “Hush,” she whispered. “Tommy, you know that’s not possible. You have to go. You have to get yourself somewhere safe, and that’ll be much easier if you’re on your own. I can protect you if you go, but if you stay, I’m afraid even the Holy Mother couldn’t save you.”
“I don’t care,” I said. I was a crying, pathetic mess, and I could see why she didn’t trust me to keep her safe, but it was too much. I was losing everything and everyone I ever loved.
“I care, Tommy. You can’t ask me to sit by and watch them string you up.”
I looked up at her. “I don’t expect you to. That’s why you have to come with me. You said you made the mistake of not leaving before. Don’t make the same mistake twice, Maggie, please.”
“It was a mistake to stay before, and it’s part of the reason we’re in this position. But it’s different this time. If I’m here, I can tell everyone that Jim made it back home before he died. I can tell them you never made it back, that you’re missing or dead yerself.
Instead of being the murdering thief on the run with his best friend’s wife, they’ll remember you as a good man. A poor soul whose luck turned bad.” Her smile was sad, and her eyes sparkled with tears. “Or better yet, they’ll not think of you at all, and Michael won’t rock the boat because he’ll know you have his book. I’ll make sure he knows he’s better off.”
“Okay, so you stay for a while, but then you leave and meet me—”
“Shh,” she said, putting one finger over my mouth. “I have to stay here. I have to keep an eye on Michael to make sure he doesn’t dream up any scheme to hurt you. The only way to keep you safe—the only way to truly keep the boys safe—is for me to stay here.”
I pulled her down to the floor and kissed her hungrily. I trailed my lips down her jaw, then wrapped my fingers in her hair and tipped her head back to expose her throat. If I couldn’t explain to her in words how much I needed her, I would show her with my body. She clutched my back, sucking in her breath when my tongue found the sensitive spot at the base of her earlobe. I slipped the sweater from her shoulders and kissed the creamy skin underneath. I pushed the thin fabric of her nightgown up and it bunched around her hips. I started to tug at her panties, but lost patience after half a second and tore them at the side seam instead. They still clung to one thigh, but she was free, exposed to my touch. She undid the button of my jeans, and I sat back on my heels, pulling her into my lap. She gasped when I found my way inside her. I held her against me with my hands on her hips and pressed her back against the sofa. My thrusts were urgent, almost frantic. A physical display of the panicked desperation I felt. I needed her to know, to understand, and her body’s response told me she did. She arched against me, and even through my shirt I could feel her nails bite into the skin at my back. She panted my name over and over, each time more insistent until we both reached a shuddering climax. I collapsed against her, fighting to catch my breath. I pressed my face into her neck, unsure whether the wetness I felt on my cheeks was her perspiration or my own tears.