It felt good, not just to play such a beautiful piece, but to remember something, and to be able to make someone else happy. About halfway through the song, she felt James enter the room, and she knew he was watching them. Watching her. She hit the final note and looked up to see him.
“That was beautiful,” he said, gazing at her with those piercing blue eyes that usually sparkled, but now betrayed worry and frustration. His hand rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders hung low and curved.
Something was wrong. She turned her legs to the outside of the bench. Pops stood.
“I just got off the phone with my office. Powell wants me to turn in my weapon and badge. I’ve been put on leave indefinitely. Apparently, some of the evidence from the accident was contaminated, so the investigation is going to take longer than expected. Calvert has been put in charge of the department.”
Pops rested a hand on James shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it will all work out.”
“What?” Maggie almost shouted. She stood and began pacing. This was her fault. He didn’t say it, but she knew he was on leave because of her. Hitting her with his car, bringing her to his house—it didn’t matter. Either way it was her fault. She stopped in front of James and scowled.
“You’re being punished because of me. First of all, James, the accident was not your fault.” Her face felt hot, her eyes narrowed, and her teeth clenched. “I ran out in front of you. I looked back to see if he’d followed me, and when I turned back to see where I was going, I was already in the road. I didn’t see your car until it was too—” her breath caught in her throat as she remembered the accident.
James mouth relaxed and the corners of his eyes lifted. “You remembered.”
She closed her eyes and took a breath, trying to calm the headache she was creating. “Yeah,” she opened her eyes, focusing on James.
She didn’t remember people being like this—kind and selfless. He had just had his job taken from him. He should be angry—at Calvert, at her. Instead, he was happy for her.
This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be punished for something that was her fault, especially now that she remembered running into traffic.
That was it. She remembered. Maybe this was her chance to help him for a change, and a way to get out of his debt. “Let me talk to the mayor. I can tell him what I—”
“No.” James reply was firm. He put his hand on her shoulder. She could feel the tension in his body through his touch. He looked her in the eye. “Powell is scum, and I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“I can handle—”
“No. Let him play his games. It doesn’t matter who’s in charge—it won’t stop me, you know. It might make my investigation harder, but it won’t stop me. I will find out who you are and who tried to kill you.”
She couldn’t look away from him, even as she felt tears pooling in her eyes. His almost fierce protection of her had taken her by surprise, and his touch was driving her pulse wild.
“I believe you,” she said, fighting the tightening in her throat. “But you shouldn’t be paying for something that was my fault.”
“I’m not,” he said, his voice calm and firm. “I’m paying for refusing to be Powell’s lackey.” His demeanor only stirred the turmoil inside her. He’d had his job taken from him, a job he loved. And he was consoling her. He wouldn’t be on leave at all if it weren’t for her. The sooner she got out of here, the better. For everyone.
Chapter 7
Ring! Ring!
James tossed the newspaper he was reading onto the end table and answered his phone.
“Warrick.”
“Hello, handsome,” the voice on the other end flirted.
“Well hello, beautiful. How’s my favorite secretary?”
“Lonely. And sick of Calvert.” She started whispering. “It’s been three weeks of hell here, boss. I can’t take it much longer. When are you coming back?”
James pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. “You know I’d be back today if I could. Anything new I need to know about? How is everyone? How’s morale?”
“We’re hangin’ in there. Reynolds had to take some time off to help Sue recover from her surgery, and of course Calvert hardly ever gets off his fat—well, you know. He never leaves his desk anymore, so we’re a little short-handed.”
“I’m sure it isn’t helping that I’m asking you and Terry to go above and beyond for me. If it weren’t for the two of you, I don’t—”
“Stop right there. Of course, we’re going to help you. You’re the only one that belongs in that office, and everyone except Calvert and his puppet master knows it. Listen, boss, an envelope came from Denver Labs today.”
James pulse jumped. It had to be the DNA results, and he knew if Calvert got his greedy hands on them, he’d never see them.
“Edith, I hate to ask you to do this…”
“You don’t have to ask. Why do you think I called? You didn’t think I was about to let anyone but the sheriff have this, did you?”
“You’re the best. Where can I meet you to get it?”
“Terry’s already on her way to The Coffee Stop. She wants you to meet her.”
“Thank you, beautiful. You know you’re my favorite secretary. Remind me to give you a raise.”
“I’m your only secretary. Just come back to work, will ya?” She laughed and disconnected.
He put the phone down and tried to shake off the sense of dread that had washed over him. This was what he’d been waiting for, right? Answers. About the case. About Maggie.
He couldn’t tell her. Not yet.
He took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and went downstairs to find Maggie and Pops. He smiled, keeping his expression even as he walked toward the table where they were working on Pops’ puzzle.
Oden was laying in his new favorite place—at Maggie’s side. Maggie’s arm hung gracefully beside her, rubbing the back of Oden’s neck, and sunlight danced through her silky hair.
Stop it. You’re not some prince, and she’s not your rescued princess. You’re a cop doing a job. Nothing more…
He thought that a lot lately and believed it less every time he thought it. It was getting harder and harder for him to ignore how he felt whenever she was in the room, but he had a job to do.
“Is, uh, Helen still upstairs?”
Maggie looked up at James, her brow furrowed. Her eyes locked with his, and he knew if he didn’t look away he was going to tell her about the call, and he didn’t want to. Not until he had the results in his hand and could give her some kind of answers.
“Is she here already?” Pops asked.
Maggie smiled, a sweet, kind smile that made Pops smile back. James loved seeing him so happy.
“Yes, Pops. She came a little early today,” Maggie replied.
James still couldn’t look away from her. The way her hair caught the sunlight when she moved, the glimmer of mischief in her hazel-green eyes, even her feisty attitude had grown on him over the past three weeks. Every time he was near her, his heart beat a little faster, his breath felt a little harder to control.
“Did you need Helen?” Her question snapped him out of his daydream.
“Huh?”
She raised one eyebrow. “You asked about Helen—did you need her?”
“Oh, yeah. I wanted to make sure she was here so I can run an errand. I should be back in about an hour. I’ll set the alarm and close the curtains. Helen has my cell number in case of any kind of emergency.”
He looked at his K-9 partner. “Oden, guard.”
“You go ahead, James,” Pops said. “We’ll be just fine.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
The Coffee Stop was a short ten-minute drive away, but every minute felt like an eternity. His fingers tapped the steering wheel. He turned on the radio. He turned it off. He turned it on again. He’d been thinking about the DNA results ever since the samples were mailed. Once he knew Maggie’s real identity, it would be easier to find th
e truth.
If they revealed her identity. What if the results were inconclusive, or her DNA wasn’t in the national database? Powell had said the evidence from the accident had been botched—did that include the DNA? What if she was a match to someone who had committed a crime? No, that couldn’t be. Maggie was a firecracker, but she wasn’t a criminal. She was too good with Pops—kind, caring, and patient.
And what about her attacker? The assault kit had gotten some skin from under Maggie’s nails. Was it her attacker’s? Would he be in the database? What if he wasn’t and they were no closer to finding out who had attacked her?
Stop with the what-ifs. Just do your job…
Right. If only it were that simple. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was no longer just a cop, and she was becoming more than just a victim.
He pulled into The Coffee Stop parking lot, hopped out of the truck, and went inside. Terry waved from the back, corner booth. He slid into the seat across from her and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Thanks for doing this, Terry. I really appreciate it.”
“Look, James, just because I disagree with you about the vic staying at your house doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do just about anything to help you solve this case. We all want Calvert out of your spot.” She half-smiled and softened her tone. “Besides, you’re family. You know I’ll always be here for you.”
She slid an envelope across the table. James put his hand over it and stared at it.
“Well? It’s not going to open itself.”
He looked at his impatient cousin and nodded, took a deep breath, and tore it open. There were several sheets of paper inside—one with directions on how to read the results, another listing the types of testing the lab provided. He thumbed through the pages, scanning the headings. He stopped when his eyes locked onto the words “Detailed Analysis Report.”
He unfolded the page and began reading, trying to process what he was seeing, his head swimming in the words, his stomach twisting into knots. He closed his eyes, his teeth clenched.
No. It can’t be. Anything but this…
“James?” Terry’s voice drew him back to the booth. He slid the paper back over to her. She leaned forward and began reading, her eyes widening with every word, her mouth slightly open. Her hand shook as she passed the page back to him.
“Oh, James, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me too.” He took a drink of his water.
“What are you going to do?”
He inhaled deeply and exhaled, rubbing his eyes and temples with his fingers.
“I have to tell her. She needs to know the truth.”
He started sliding out of the booth, and she put her hand over his.
“I’m not worried about her. I meant you. Are you going to be okay?”
He scowled. “This doesn’t change anything. I’ll handle it.”
“How can you say that? This changes everything. I know you want answers, but maybe you should just let it go now that—”
“I said I’ll handle it. I have to go.” He slid out of the booth and started to walk away but paused and turned back to Terry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just—I really have to go.”
He got into his truck, clutched the steering wheel, and dropped his head against the back of the seat. Blood pounded in his ears, acid churned in his stomach.
How was he supposed to tell Maggie her real identity? He wasn’t sure how he was going to look at her, let alone talk to her. Her world was going to be shaken, to say the least, but how could he possibly comfort her now? This case, her case, had destroyed his family.
Getting to The Coffee Stop seemed to take twice as long as usual but getting back to the house seemed to take half as long. He pulled into the garage, turned the truck off, and sat there. Five minutes went by. Then ten. Then twenty.
He had to go inside. He had to tell her. He took his time walking to the back door, hesitating when he reached for the knob.
Just do it. Get it over with.
That would be best.
The smell of fresh cut grass caught his attention, and he looked at the newly mowed lawn. The flower bed looked like it had been weeded, too. Odd—the front didn’t look like it had been serviced. Then again, he had a lot on his mind. Maybe he hadn’t noticed.
He opened the back door and approached the alarm keypad, but the alarm didn’t beep its usual warning, and the keypad was dark. Something wasn’t right. He’d done the wiring himself. There were only two ways it could be disarmed: by the alarm monitoring company, or by losing power. Even then, it should be running on battery back-up. He slid the face plate off. No batteries.
His stomach tightened, the hairs on his arms lifted. What if the attacker found them? He thought he’d lost the tail coming home from the hospital, but had he? He promised Maggie he would keep her safe. And Pops…if anything happened to Pops, he’d never forgive himself.
He sprinted through the kitchen to the dining room where he’d left Pops and Maggie. They weren’t there, and the house was quiet. Too quiet. He reached for his weapon, forgetting he didn’t have it anymore.
“Pops?” James called out, adrenaline rushing through him.
“Over here,” Maggie called from the living room.
Relief washed over him, replacing the anger he thought he wanted to feel toward her. Maybe the alarm hadn’t been deliberately disarmed. Maybe it had. Either way, if anything had happened to Pops…or her…
She couldn’t stay here anymore. Not if there was even the slightest possibility her attacker knew where she was. Given what he’d learned from the results, it was best to have her out of the house anyway.
He walked to the living room and saw her lying on the sofa, one arm hanging off the cushion, her fingers dancing up and down Oden’s back. One long, trim leg was crossed over the other, her feet bare. The yellow t-shirt she wore barely reached the top of her denim shorts and hugged the curves of her body.
Stop it. You’re a cop. She’s your ward. It will never be more than that. Especially now.
“Get your errand done?” Maggie asked, not looking up from the book she was reading.
He wished he hadn’t. The fear from the disarmed security system and the relief of knowing everyone was okay had been nothing compared to the turmoil he felt now. His heart ached—for her, for his dad, for Matthew. Part of him wanted to take her in his arms and forget all of it. But how could he? He didn’t think he’d ever be able to look at her the same way again.
“Yeah. I got my errands done.”
He reached over and took the book from her hands, closed it and set it on the coffee table.
She swung her legs around and sat up. “What’s the matter? You don’t sound very happy.”
He held the envelope up. She gazed at it, her expression almost frozen with angst. Her gaze turned to him, her eyes searching his for something he couldn’t give her. Not now.
“Are those—”
“The DNA results. I’m sorry.” He tossed the envelope onto the coffee table and turned away from her. “I can’t—I just can’t.” He kept his back to her and went upstairs.
* * *
Maggie stared at the envelope, desperate to know what it said; afraid it was going to change everything. Judging by James’ behavior, it already had.
Pops came into the room and sat beside her, twisting his body to watch James walk up the stairs. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I’m not sure, but I think it has something to do with this. It’s my DNA results.” She nodded toward the envelope.
“The DNA results?” He tucked his chin back slightly and squinted one eye. “Is he going to go over them with you? Are you supposed to wait for him to come back?”
“I—I don’t know. I don’t think so. He said he was sorry, and just…walked away.”
“Sorry? What do you mean, walked away?”
She shrugged. James had always been there for her. She had started relying on him, even trus
ting him, but she shouldn’t have. She had been wrong, stupid to let her guard down. He was no different from everyone else. Why else would he walk away when she needed him the most?
“I’m going upstairs to find out what’s wrong with that boy.” Pops stood and wagged a finger at her. “Stay here and don’t open that until we get back.”
“I’m busy.” James answered the knock on his office door.
“What’s the matter with you?” Pops started yelling at him before he was even through the door.
“I said I was busy, and nothing’s the matter with me.” James got up from his desk and closed the office door.
“You’re not busy.” Pops shook his head and pointed at the clear desk top. “You need to get downstairs and go over those results with Maggie.”
“She’s made it clear since she got here, she doesn’t need my help. She can read them herself. And her name is Elyse. Elyse Benson.” James emphasized her last name, hoping it would be all the explanation Pops needed.
“Benson. Did you say Benson? You mean she’s—”
“Margaret Benson’s daughter.”
Pops walked to the other side of the room and stared out the window.
Several minutes passed before he turned back to James, his brow furrowed, but his eyes set and resolved. “Okay. So she’s Margaret Benson’s daughter. So what? She didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Matthew and your dad.”
“Maybe not, but how am I supposed to look at her knowing what her mother did to my family? How?”
Pops grabbed James by the shoulders and stared deep into his eyes. “You’re going to look at her the same way you did this morning, only with more compassion because you know what she’s been through. Hell, you know better than anyone what she’s been through.”
“I don’t know, Pops. I—”
Pops stepped back and waved a bony finger at him. “You listen to me. That girl has nothing, no one except us, and you put her in that position. You put her in the position of having to rely on you when you brought her here three weeks ago. It took time for her to open up, but slowly she did, and now she trusts you. It was your choice to bring her here, and because you did, we are the only family she knows. Don’t you dare take that from her because you’re afraid. She’s innocent in all of this and she deserves better.”
Killer Secrets Page 7