Deadly Deception

by Marissa Garner

  The pounding and buzzing resumed as she pulled the bedroom door closed behind her. Envisioning her brother and uncle struggling with her stepdad, she ran down the hallway to the living room and reached for the doorknob.

  “Open the door, bitch! I want my daughter.”

  Jessie gasped. Drake. She yanked her hand back as though burned and backed away from the door.

  “I know you’re in there. Open up or I’ll break down the damn door,” Drake yelled.

  A louder thump suggested he’d switched from hammering with his fists to ramming with his body.

  Do something, her paralyzed brain screamed. Lock myself and Callie in the bedroom? Call the sheriff? Call Luke? Do I have time? No, help can’t get here fast enough.

  Another wham against the door sent her flying to the master bedroom closet. When her hand closed around the handgun on the shelf, her gut clenched. Please, God, don’t let me have to use this.

  “Callie, honey, it’s your daddy. I want to see you, but Mommy won’t let me. Tell her to open the door,” Drake was shouting when she ran back into the living room.

  “Go away, Drake. Callie’s sleeping. She doesn’t want to see you anyway,” Jessie called, pressing her back against the door.

  “You better be nice to me, bitch, or I’ll take her away permanently.” He emphasized his threat with another assault on the door. “I’m coming in whether you like it or not.” The door shuddered again.

  “Stop, Drake. I…I have a gun.”

  “So do I,” he sneered.

  Something cracked when he hit the wooden door again. The impact jolted Jessie.

  She took several steps away from the door and aimed the gun. The pistol shook in her hands. “I’m warning you. Go away.”

  “Or what? You’re going to shoot me?” Drake’s laugh was an ugly bark.

  “If she doesn’t, I will,” came another male voice, calm but steely. “Move away from the door, Hargrove. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Jessie’s fear evaporated at the sound of Sean’s voice. Her knees went weak with relief. She lowered the gun and sank onto the couch.

  “Don’t kid yourself, Jessica. This fight isn’t over. You know I don’t give up until I get what I want. My daughter is not going to live in a house where people go missing.”

  Jessie whimpered. If that was true, what would Drake do if he discovered Callie had been living with a man who took pornographic pictures of her? She didn’t have to speculate. She knew. With the court’s blessing, her ex would take her daughter away…forever. And that would be more unbearable than losing her mother.

  An epiphany struck like a bolt of lightning. Drake Hargrove must never know about the pictures. Correction: No one could ever know what her stepdad had done to her and Callie.

  But she’d fight to her last breath to be sure he was convicted of killing her mother. There could be consequences to hiding Hal’s other crime, but Jessie’s brain was too fried to figure them out. She just couldn’t sacrifice Callie to ensure Hal’s punishment.

  The men’s angry voices grew fainter, and soon she heard a car engine. Tires squealed, and a distinct “Fuck you!” reached her ears.

  Moments later, Sean knocked softly on the door. “Jess, he’s gone. Let me in.”

  Relief surged through her. She hurried to the door and opened it.

  After one last look at Drake’s receding vehicle, Sean stepped inside and locked the door behind him. He reached for Jessie, but his gaze dropped to her hand.

  She looked down at the gun she’d forgotten she was still holding.

  Gently, Sean took it from her, set the safety, and shoved it in his waistband next to his Glock. He led her to the couch and pulled her down onto his lap. Cocooning her in his arms, he rocked her for several minutes.

  She pressed her head against his muscular chest. He felt so strong, so solid. Like a rock. Too bad he couldn’t be her rock.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Not really. I don’t know whether I’ll really be okay ever again.”

  He tightened his embrace. “Sure you will.” He glanced toward the hallway and then the kitchen. “Where’s Callie?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “Is…Hal here?”

  She tensed. “No.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I…uh…don’t know.” She hoped she sounded nonchalant even though her insides were roiling.

  Sean opened his mouth as if to ask another question, but a vehicle roared into the driveway, cutting him off.

  * * *

  Sean shook his head. Drake Hargrove wasn’t only a stupid prick, he was also a persistent one. As a cop, Sean had dealt with his type many times. But this was personal.

  He yanked Jess’s gun from his waistband and shoved it toward her. “Lock yourself in with Callie. Don’t come out until I give the all clear.”

  She scrambled off his lap and hurried toward the hallway. Stopping halfway there, she spun around. “He’s dangerous. Be careful, Sean.”

  He gave her a reassuring smile. “I know. I will.”

  Once he heard the bedroom door shut, his focus moved outside. No engine noise. Running footsteps. Toward the back door.

  Sean darted to the archway leading to the kitchen and flipped the wall switch to turn off the lamp in the living room, cloaking the space in darkness. The back door lock clicked, and the door swished open.

  He frowned. Drake didn’t have a key. Was this Hal coming home? The horrible pictures he and Jake had uncovered flashed through his mind. His eyes narrowed, and he relished the feel of the gun in his hand.

  Heavy footsteps stomped across the linoleum floor and exited the kitchen just a few feet from Sean.

  “Police! Hands in the air,” he ordered, flicking on the light switch with his free hand.

  “Fuck,” Chad exclaimed, reaching for the ceiling.

  “Fuck,” Sean echoed, and blew out a frustrated breath. “Relax, Chad. It’s me.”

  Wearing an angry-bull expression, the older man turned on him. “What the hell? You tryin’ to gimme a goddamn heart attack?”

  “Sorry, man. Thought you were Hal.” Sean zeroed in on the other man’s bruised left cheek, the cut over his eyebrow, and his busted lip.

  Chad’s gaze dropped to Sean’s gun, now pointed at the floor. “Why would ya be aimin’ that thing at Hal?” His eyes rose to meet Sean’s. Something in his expression said it wasn’t a casual question.

  “Uncle Chad?” Jess stood in the hallway entrance, her eyes wide and her face ghostly pale. So much for waiting for Sean’s all clear. “Wh-where’s Da…H-Hal?” she stammered.

  Chad’s lips pressed into a thin line.

  Her eyes grew even rounder and filled with tears. “D-don’t tell me you lost him. Dear God in heaven, don’t say he got away.”

  Sean frowned. Lost him? Got away? What’s she talking about?

  Chad pulled Jess into his arms. “It’ll be okay, baby girl. Hush now. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

  He brushed her hair aside and said more into her ear that Sean couldn’t hear. She raised her head and peered at him questioningly. Then her expression hardened, sadness faded, and determination took its place. She glanced at Sean before whispering to Chad for several seconds.

  Chad pulled back. “But—”

  Jess shook her head. “I mean it.”

  “What’s going on?” Sean asked, bristling at being excluded.

  They turned in tandem, wariness and uncertainty on their faces. Jess regarding him with suspicion rankled…and hurt. How could she not trust him after all he’d done to help?

  Before either answered, another vehicle drove into the driveway and stopped. Everyone froze and listened. No one spoke. Sean brought his gun up again and waited.

  “Careful, Sean,” Chad warned. “It’s probably Nate.” He angled his head toward Jess. “I dropped him off to get his car.”

  A piece of the puzzle: Chad and Nate had been together before they lost Hal or let him get away.r />
  A few minutes later, Nate unlocked and opened the front door. His gaze darted around the room to each person before landing on Sean’s Glock. While he remained in the doorway as though unsure what to say or do, his hands shook so badly that his keys jingled. His T-shirt was torn at the neck, his left eye was swollen and bruised, and blood had dried beneath his nose and on his lips.

  Mentally, Sean aligned another puzzle piece: Chad and Nate had been in a fight, probably with Hal, not each other.

  “C’mon in, Nate. I was just gettin’ ready to explain to Jessie how Hal got away from us. But I’m thinkin’ we could all use a drink right about now,” Chad said. “Sean, would you do the honors? The whiskey’s…in the pantry.” Jess started to say something, but he silenced her with a stern look.

  Sean surveyed the scene. Obviously, Chad wanted to talk to Jess and Nate—alone.

  He snorted. He could play along…for a while.

  In the kitchen, he first looked for the whiskey bottle where it’d been on the counter the other day, but it was gone. Then he searched the pantry and found no whiskey, no alcohol at all. Wild-goose chase. Big surprise.

  As he approached the doorway, he attempted to eavesdrop, but only a low hum of whispering, with no discernible words, came from the other room. He poked his head around the corner. The three huddled in front of the fireplace with Nate in the middle, whispering and gesturing emphatically. When Sean cleared his throat, three pairs of eyes cut in his direction.

  “The booze isn’t in the pantry, Chad. Where is it, Jess?” His annoyed scowl delivered a distinct message.

  “Oh…uh…I think Mom…um…moved it to the cupboard over the stove. You know, so Callie can’t reach it,” she said.

  “Right.”

  Several minutes later, he returned to the living room with four tumblers of Jack Daniel’s on the rocks. After distributing the drinks, he settled in the recliner opposite the couch where the others now sat. He sniffed. “What’s that smell?”

  “Um…we thought a fire would be nice, but we changed our minds,” Nate said, avoiding Sean’s eyes.

  Seriously? Sean’s gaze traveled deliberately to each person. Then he pinned them with a don’t-fuck-with-me-again glare. “We need to talk.”

  Chapter 18

  Jessie cringed inwardly under Sean’s penetrating glare, but she was determined not to let him intimidate her. She had to follow her chosen course of action. Despite their glorious lovemaking last night, Sean Burke was her past, not her future. And that future required Jessie to protect herself and her daughter—at all costs.

  “Yes, we do need to talk,” she said. She raised the whiskey to her lips, annoyed that the ice tinkled against the glass because her hand shook so badly.

  “What the hell happened?” Sean demanded impatiently.

  “Well…uh…,” Uncle Chad began.

  Jessie patted his knee. “It’s okay. I’ll tell him this part.” She drew a bracing breath. “The three of us decided to question Da…Hal…about Mom’s…disappearance.”

  Sean surveyed the living room. “Here?”

  She gulped. “Yes.”

  He grunted. “Doesn’t look like a fight—”

  “The fight happened outside,” Nate interrupted.

  Sean studied him. “Hal didn’t much like being questioned?”

  Jessie shot her brother a silencing glance before continuing. “No, he got really belligerent when we suggested he had something to do with…you know.”

  “I’ll bet he did.” Jessie trembled under Sean’s disbelieving stare. “You’ve adamantly refused to even entertain my suspicions of your dad. What changed your mind?”

  She glared back. “You did. Okay? That and the absence of any other suspects. Look. You were right. H-Hal c-confessed,” she stammered.

  Her brother’s and uncle’s heads snapped around, but they didn’t speak.

  Sean frowned. “He confessed?”

  “Yes.”

  “To what, specifically?”

  “To…k-killing her.”

  “And you idiots didn’t call the cops immediately because…?”

  Sean’s unfinished question dangled like bait. Jessie held her breath, hoping the other “fish” were also too smart to take it. Thank God no one responded. When she finished fabricating the story in her mind, she answered.

  “Of course we were going to call the police. That’s why I came back inside. But then I saw both trucks leaving. I didn’t know what was happening, where they were going. They could’ve been headed to the sheriff’s station for all I knew. Besides, I figured if the guys needed help with Hal, they’d call 911 themselves.”

  After a moment’s consideration, Sean gave a grudging nod of agreement. “You could’ve called Luke.”

  “He may be a good friend, but he’s not a one-man police force.”

  Sean huffed with frustration. “Well, are you gonna call someone now?”

  She gulped. “Yes. Definitely. I want the bastard caught.”

  “Then you better decide first what you’re going to tell them about”—he paused—“about the…pictures.”

  Dread gripped Jessie’s chest. She shuddered. “What p-pictures?” Her voice trembled because she knew that he knew. She couldn’t fathom how, but he’d discovered the awful secret.

  Sean studied her for several beats before zeroing in on Nate. “Hal’s pictures of…naked kids.”

  Humming buzzed in her ears. Black edged the periphery of her vision. Her stomach churned. When his gaze shifted back to her, she shut her eyes against his simmering anger. “How…how do you know?”

  “I’ll share if you will. Why don’t you start over at the beginning? And this time, tell me the truth.”

  If she kept her eyes closed long enough, would it all go away? Darkness beckoned, coaxing her to give up the fight. Maybe reality was overrated. Would anyone blame her for escaping from the shambles of her life? Yes, I would. I’d blame me. She drew a long breath until her chest swelled and then let it out slowly. I can do this. I have to do it…for Callie.

  “Baby girl, I think Sean’s right,” Uncle Chad said, giving her hand a squeeze.

  Calmly, she opened her eyes. “First, you have to swear that nothing—and I mean absolutely nothing—about those pictures ever leaves this room.”

  Sean frowned. “You don’t want Hal punished for what he’s done?”

  “Of course I do. He’s an immoral bastard, so we’ll just have to be sure he gets the maximum sentence for killing Mom.”

  “Jess, there are no guarantees. We don’t even have the perp or the victim.”

  “Then we’ll just have to find both.”

  Nate made a strangled noise before clearing his throat. “I agree with Jessie. The death penalty for Mom’s murder would be good enough.”

  “I’m not a lawyer so I’m not sure—” Sean began.

  “Deal or no deal?” Jessie demanded.

  He sighed. “Deal. Now tell me what really happened.”

  Steeling herself, Jessie recounted the day’s events, starting with the meeting in the attorney’s office and the shocking letters from her mother.

  Sean looked like he’d been sucker punched. “What bomb shelter?”

  “Beneath the darkroom. I never knew it was there either. The entrance has been hidden for decades under the worktable and rug.”

  “Damn.”

  “Hal wasn’t in the house when we got here. The bastard was in the bomb shelter”—she closed her eyes against the images—“taking pictures… That’s where we confronted him about Mom. He flew into a rage and fought with Nate and Uncle Chad. Then he bragged about killing her.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I…I just had to leave, so I grabbed Callie and got the hell out of there. After getting her into bed, I was waiting for the guys to bring Hal inside so we could call the sheriff. Then I saw the two trucks leave…like I already told you. I didn’t know what was happening so I lay down with Callie to wait an hour before contacting the police myse
lf. But then I accidentally fell asleep.” Wringing her hands in her lap, she finished with, “And that’s when Drake showed up. You know what happened after that.”

  “Drake? What the hell was he doing here?” Nate asked.

  “He’s threatening to take Callie away from me,” Jessie said. “I’ll explain later.”

  Silence settled over the living room. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one stunned by hearing the tale spoken aloud. Beside her, both Uncle Chad and Nate stared at the floor, lost in their own thoughts.

  “Next,” Sean finally prompted. “How did Hal get away?” he clarified.

  “I’ll take this one,” Chad offered. He glanced nervously at Nate, who kept his gaze focused on the carpet. “It happened real fast, ya know. After Jessie left with Callie, Hal simmered down and didn’t put up much of a struggle climbin’ out of the bomb shelter. We were all hurtin’ from the fight, especially us old guys. Anyway, comin’ across the driveway, the prick jerks around and kicks Nate in the nuts. Bad, real bad. Poor kid went down like a bag of cement. I let go of Hal for just a moment to help Nate, and the bastard took off runnin’.”

  Jessie cringed. Hope slipped away as her uncle talked. Tears threatened, but she was too drained to actually cry.

  “Hal locked the door to his truck just as I got there. I yanked on it anyway until he started moving. ’Bout ran over my feet haulin’ ass outta here. Nate and me jumped in my truck and took off after him like—”

  “Where’d he go?” Sean interrupted.

  “We followed him all the way to San Ysidro, not too far from the border crossing. Real surprised neither of us got stopped for speedin’. Just lucky, I guess. When we got off the freeway, it got real dicey.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “Lost him when he ran a red light right in front of a semi. Looked and looked but never did spot his truck again. So we came home. So sorry, baby girl.” He shook his head, disappointment weighing on him.

  “You got anything to add?” Sean directed the question to Nate.

  He shrugged and kept his eyes down. “Nope. Happened just like they said.” Nate glanced briefly at Chad. “I suspect Hal’s heading into Mexico.”