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#7-9--The O’Connells

Page 12

by Lorhainne Eckhart


  “Alison, does it make me a bad person to want to stay with Marcus and Charlotte? I love my mom, but she’s in jail and won’t get out for a long time. I still want to see her, but Marcus said I can’t right now, and Charlotte said to just give it some time, and they’ll keep talking to my mom and find a way to talk her into seeing me. Does she hate me? Is that why she won’t see me?”

  Alison held the chain, glancing at the little kids on the slide nearby. Eva jumped off the swing, and she took in her little face and her shoulder-length brown hair. She held out her hand toward her. “Your mom doesn’t hate you,” she said. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I overheard from my mom and dad that Marcus tries every week to convince your mom to let them bring you to see her, but your mom loves you and doesn’t want you to see her in that place. She doesn’t hate you. Come on, squirt. Let’s go before everyone wonders where we are. I told Grandma we’d be back in an hour.”

  Eva settled her hand in Alison’s. She was dressed in blue jeans and a flowered long-sleeved shirt. They started walking, but she noticed that Brady had started toward them. Whatever he’d said to Craig Lister, she didn’t know, because Craig was walking the other way.

  “Hey, Alison,” he called out.

  “Hi, Brady. You live around here?”

  He had such a nice smile, flirty. He was tall, lanky, and something about him had butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “Yeah, not far. You?” He dropped his gaze to Eva. “Hey, there. I’m Brady. I go to school with Alison. Are you her sister?”

  “We live just up the street.” Alison gestured toward their houses, then lifted the hand that was holding Eva’s. “Eva’s my little cousin. So you just moved here?” she said, looking down to see that Eva was smiling, standing so close, though she didn’t say a word.

  “Yeah, a few weeks ago, just me and my dad,” Brady said. “My mom died a long time ago, so it’s just the two of us. Don’t really know a lot of kids here, but since we live so close, maybe we could hang out sometime.”

  That’d be great! “Sure, anytime,” she said.

  “Brady!” called a tall older man walking their way. He had threads of gray in his thick short hair.

  Brady turned and lifted his hand. “That’s my dad. Look, I’ve got to go.”

  Alison took in Brady’s father, who looked right at her and Eva before dragging his gaze back to Brady. She hadn’t seen him before.

  “Been looking for you everywhere, son,” he said. “Told you not to go far.” He looked around again and then smiled at her as he stopped in front of them. “Hey, kids,” he added.

  She shrugged, holding Eva’s hand. “Hey,” she said.

  “Dad, this is Alison, from school,” Brady said. “Alison, this is my dad, Raymond.”

  There was something about the way he took her in. His smile didn’t reach his blue eyes. For a moment, she wondered whether he’d say anything else.

  He finally nodded. “Just Ray is fine, Alison,” was all he said.

  “Dad, Alison lives up the street, not far from us,” Brady said. “Thought maybe I could invite her over.”

  Ray rested his hand on Brady’s shoulder and just stared at him for a second as if considering something. “We’ll see,” he said. “Look, we’ve got to go. We’ll talk about it later. Alison, good to meet you.” He dropped his gaze to Eva. “And who are you?” he asked, really taking her in.

  Instead of answering, Eva pressed her lips together tight, looking shyly up at him, holding tight to Alison.

  “This is Eva,” Alison said. “She’s about to be my uncle Marcus’s adopted daughter.” She didn’t know why, but the man seemed to really take in Eva, then nodded.

  “So you’re Ryan O’Connell’s daughter?” he said, dragging his gaze over to her. Who was this man? The way he looked at her was so intense.

  “Yeah, you know my dad?” she said.

  The man didn’t smile anymore, and he allowed his blue eyes to linger for another second before letting his gaze settle on Eva again. “It’s a small town, Alison. Again, good to meet you. We have to go, Brady.” He started to walk away, his hands shoved in his pockets. There was just something about him…

  “Hey, sorry about that,” Brady said in a low voice. “That’s just how my dad can be.” She wondered whether Ray could hear. “See you at school tomorrow!” he called out as he jogged after his dad.

  She watched the man run his hand over Brady’s shoulder and then rustle his hair, pulling him into one of those father–son hugs as they walked.

  “How do you think he knows Uncle Ryan?” Eva asked as they started walking again, and Alison glanced over her shoulder, seeing Brady and his dad, Ray, walking the other way.

  “I don’t know. Seems my dad knows a lot of people. So remember, when we get home, you stop worrying about the adoption. It’ll happen. You’re a part of our family, Eva, and you’re not going anywhere.”

  Alison didn’t know why, but she was getting that weirded-out feeling that she couldn’t shake again. It had her glancing back over her shoulder, but this time, she couldn’t see Brady and his dad. Wherever they had gone, evidently, they lived somewhere close by.

  What’s coming next in The O’Connells? Justice, just click here to download. Available from all retailers!

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  About this book

  What will happen when the secret Marcus has been holding on to begins to unravel, and someone uses it as leverage?

  * * *

  One morning, Marcus O’Connell is confronted by his deputy, Harold Waters, about an accusation that he’s hidden evidence of a crime. Harold knows something is going on in the O’Connell family. Even his partner, Suzanne, is acting strangely. Harold has made it clear that he doesn’t do secrets, but Marcus isn’t too inclined to share the details of the O’Connells’ secret, even with Suzanne’s urging.

  * * *

  At the same time, he learns that the sentencing for those involved in the recent high school crime has been assigned to an overtly conservative judge who makes no apologies for his bias, letting privileged kids walk while tossing others away all because of who their families are. Marcus soon learns there is much more going on behind the scenes with the judge than he’s comfortable with.

  * * *

  Added into the mix is the fact that the adoption for Eva has suddenly taken a turn for the worse. Her grandfather wants to be a part of her life and is questioning Marcus and Charlotte’s fitness as parents. With everything weighing on Marcus, he needs to make some hard choices about coming clean with his family’s secret and taking a stand against the unfairness that has cropped up in a criminal case that should’ve been open and shut.

  * * *

  In finding a way to keep Eva in their family and close the adoption, Marcus may need to realize that carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders alone isn’t the answer—and that reaching out, asking for help, and trusting someone could be the only way to resolve everything.

  Chapter One

  At a knock on the open door to his office, Marcus glanced up, seeing Harold in his deputy uniform, his light hair cropped short, evidently recently cut.

  “Thought you’d want to know,” Harold said. “I was just at the courthouse and heard that Rita Mae and Hunter got off. Out of the twenty-five kids who were there, eight got community service hours. For Belinda, the judge added a charge of criminal possession of a dangerous drug, and she has a sentencing hearing coming up. Same with a few of the other kids, including Amanda. The sentences were all over the place, like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Did you have an idea that was going to happen?”

  Marcus took in the file his deputy was holding, and Harold lifted it in the air as if it held all the answers. He tossed down the pen he had been gripping onto some notes on an open burglary case that had gone unsolved, then held his
hand out for the file and leaned back in his chair. “What are you talking about? And what’s in the file?”

  Harold handed it to him. “All the notes regarding the investigation into Jackson Moore’s death: the details of what happened, statements from every kid we talked to, the final list of seniors who participated in the prank and their roles, and the list of prescription meds, including which pills were supplied by which kids. You know, all the bullshit’s in there, too, with the lies and the double talk and the finger pointing, the lawyers who wanted a deal, saying the kids didn’t know any better and were just being kids. I’ve also noted how many were trying to implicate your niece, Alison, and the fact that just about everyone tried to lie their way out of it. Thought you might want a refresher before I tell you which kids are walking after making a deal with the DA and which ones got served with time behind bars.”

  For a moment, he thought Harold wasn’t serious. He had to remind himself that joking around wasn’t something Harold did. The man was quiet—and really fucking good at being a cop.

  “There’s one other thing you should be aware of,” Harold said. “Rita Mae’s lawyer is saying something about you.”

  That had Marcus leaning back in his chair, giving Harold everything yet again. His stomach knotted. “Excuse me…?”

  Harold said nothing for a second, giving him a look that would’ve had suspects sweating.

  “What the hell is she saying?”

  “Something about you covering something up, you and your brother. She said there was evidence of a crime, and she gave it to Owen, and you knew about it.”

  He could feel his world unraveling.

  “The DA isn’t listening, though,” Harold said. “He sees it as a desperate attempt to get a deal or something. It was Eileen, the assistant DA, who pulled me aside at the courthouse and asked if there was anything she should know about you or if there’s any validity to any of Rita Mae’s claims. I told her to fuck off. She knows you. But then…” Harold walked over to the open door. Out front, he knew Charlotte was manning the phones. He closed it and then pulled up the old wooden chair in front of Marcus’s desk and sat down. What the fuck had just happened?

  Harold took another second and then gave everything to Marcus. “You know I’m behind you one hundred percent, and you have my vote for sheriff. I’ve worked in a lot of different jurisdictions for some real assholes who didn’t have a clue how the law works. I’ve seen commanding officers manipulate all kinds of laws to benefit themselves and their friends, letting one person off because they know the family and charging someone else for the same crime. But not you. I’ve seen how you go out of your way to be fair, even in this shitshow with the kids.

  “At the same time, I know there’s something going on between you and your siblings, all of them. Suzanne has about the worst poker face, and I told her I don’t like secrets, but I’ve asked her twice and she’s still not saying anything. When I heard this thing about the evidence, my first thought was to deny it, but as a cop, I know when someone is good for something and when I’m being lied to, and right now, I’m feeling as if I’m being lied to. About what?” He gestured toward Marcus. There was something in his blue eyes, the way he looked across the desk. Marcus could feel that this was the moment of truth.

  There was no blowing Harold off, which was one of the reasons Marcus had pushed to give him the open deputy’s position, which he’d had to fight city council for.

  “So how about this?” Harold said. “You tell me to my face that there’s nothing to this, and I’ll drop it.”

  That was the one thing he’d never expected. He pulled in a breath and didn’t break the steely gaze being directed at him from across his desk. He pulled his hand over his chin. It would be so easy to lie. He was so aware of how happy Harold made his sister.

  “I can see you’re having some trouble explaining, and that only makes me more sure there’s something here,” Harold said. He leaned back, and Marcus knew he was quickly figuring it out.

  “Everything isn’t as black and white as you think it is,” he started, but there was another knock on the door. The interruption was so damn welcome, as he was struggling to figure out how to blow Harold off and satisfy him at the same time—and maybe add in that this wasn’t any of his damn business.

  “Come in,” he barked out just as the door opened. Charlotte was there, and he took her in. She was his wife, the love of his life, carrying his baby, and she also had no idea of the secret he was keeping.

  She pulled in a breath. Evidently, she’d realized she was walking in on something. “Excuse me, Marcus. Just got a call from the Lees that PJ Moore is over there. All hell is breaking loose or something. He’s got a gun and is threating Belinda, wanting the list of drugs so he can find out who supplied the opioid Jackson took, and he’s not leaving until he gets it.”

  Marcus was already out of his chair, and so was Harold. “Anyone hurt?” He was at the door and knew his deputy was behind him.

  “Not yet,” Charlotte said, “but he’s angry, as you well know, considering the DA wouldn’t disclose the details about the pills, likely to prevent this exact situation.” From the way she spoke, he could see she gave everything of herself to the job, to him. He took a second and let his gaze run over her, a moment between just them.

  “Yeah,” he said, knowing she understood that he didn’t have the words right now.

  He felt as if his entire world were beginning to break apart around him, exposing the secrets and lies and everything that had held his family’s lives together. He lifted his hand and touched her cheek, then tossed Harold a look behind him. He knew he would keep asking until he got an answer, but at least now there was an emergency to be handled first, namely PJ.

  “You want to remind me who the opioids were from?” Marcus said.

  Harold said nothing for a second as Marcus let his hand rest on Charlotte’s arm, then had her turned around and walking out of his office. He took in the empty desk where Lonnie usually sat, then the kid, Colby, who was neck deep in a file. Colby glanced up to him hopefully, and Marcus knew he needed to shut down the idea of him joining the action.

  “You stay here,” he said. “Harold and I will handle PJ. When Lonnie gets in, let him know I want a word with him.”

  Then he was out the door, Harold right on his heels. Harold hadn’t said anything else, but Marcus was very aware that he wasn’t about to let it go.

  “I’ll meet you over there,” Marcus said as he headed to his sheriff’s cruiser. Harold’s cruiser was parked right beside it. He had his door open, about to get in.

  “I mean it, Marcus,” Harold said. “You may be my boss and the sheriff, but I’m damn serious. You’re not blowing me off. I want to know, and now I’m more convinced than ever that there’s something to what Rita Mae is saying. Keeping me in the dark isn’t going to fly.”

  Harold climbed into his cruiser, flicked on his siren, and backed out, and Marcus did the same right behind him, gunning the engine to the Lee house, where PJ Moore was evidently keeping his word. The man was a vigilante. He wasn’t going to back off until he had the answers he wanted—and his own brand of justice.

  Everyone was taking the law into their own hands, it seemed. Then there was Harold and Rita Mae and all the fucking lawyers, and it seemed his ass was likely going to be hung out to dry. Just one more thing he needed, considering all the other responsibilities he had.

  Maybe it was time he had another talk with Suzanne.

  Chapter Two

  Harold pulled up in front of the Lee residence just ahead of Marcus. It was a two-story home with a circular driveway, and several people stood watching on the road and in the yards of the surrounding houses. He could hear yelling through the open door, and there was PJ.

  He was a big man, maybe six foot five, he thought, and likely more than three hundred pounds of solid muscle. He wore blue jeans and a faded maroon shirt, and with his beard, he resembled a mountain man, the kind of man Marcus knew
wasn’t about to go quietly. Once he made his mind up about something, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  “PJ, step back now!” Harold called out ahead of him.

  Marcus started up the walkway at a run. He could see a terrified Belinda standing behind her plump mother, who was looking freaked-out. Emotions were high, and PJ gave nothing to Harold, appearing unready to comply.

  “PJ, step back!” Marcus shouted. “Last warning, you hear? This isn’t how to handle this.” He didn’t take his eyes off PJ, who was now standing toe to toe with Douglas Lee, Belinda’s father, a much shorter man.

  “It’s about time you got here, Sheriff!” Douglas snapped. “This crazy man threatened Belinda and us. We’ve asked him to leave over and over. I want him arrested. Get him the hell off my property!”

  PJ didn’t move a muscle or pull his gaze from Belinda, and another second passed before he lifted his hands and stepped back with a shake of his head and a murderous look in his eyes. Could Marcus blame him? Hell, no. But at the same time, he had to get through to him that his brand of justice wasn’t going to fly.

  “You going to come easy now, or do I need to cuff you, PJ?” Marcus called, his cuffs already out.

  Harold stepped in, maneuvering Douglas Lee back. The man was still carrying on, and Belinda and her mom were close to hysterics. This had become a shitshow, just one more thing he had to handle, but all he could do was give everything to PJ as he dragged his gaze over to him. He was pissed off, angry. Yeah, he wanted heads to roll. It was there in the look he gave Marcus before darting a glance back over to Belinda, who was still standing behind her mother, terrified.

 

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