Josh’s interviews had been disturbing.
“We found pictures of his brother and his girlfriend in Josh’s office. The girlfriend was wearing a pale blue scarf in many of the photos.” Stella tilted her head back. The heat of the sun warmed her face.
“Do they know what sparked his killing spree?” Brody asked. “Why did he kill Missy?”
“It was the Simmons case. That newscaster Gary Simmons had been a patient at New Hope. When he got behind the wheel of his Escapade under the influence and rammed it into that minivan full of children, Josh lost it. He felt guilty for not curing him and angry at Simmons for being weak.”
“But he only killed Missy and Dena?” Brody asked. “What happened to Janelle Hall?”
“She came home after a few days. The idea of running away had been more attractive than the reality.” Stella watched Mac spray Carson’s feet with a hose. “We didn’t find any other bodies at Josh’s house.”
“He didn’t hide Missy or Dena.” Brody stretched.
“No, he wanted us to know what he had done. Maybe deep down he wanted us to stop him.” Stella sighed. “He claims he did it all for the overall good. To find a way to really beat addiction. To stop those he deemed unable to be fully recovered and prevent them from harming others.”
Brody snorted. “Or he just lost his shit.”
“Or that.”
Brody scratched the edge of his bandage. “So Spivak was helping his buddy manufacture explosives. Did he ever say why he was at the church that night?”
“Spivak is not cooperative, but one of the members came forward and said he’d been stalking her. They’d dated a few times and he’d gotten rough. She called it off, but he wouldn’t leave her alone.”
“What about Adam Miller?” Brody asked.
“He might not have killed his wife, but he wasn’t innocent. In the trunk of Missy’s car, forensics found a gym bag with several changes of clothes, a disposable cell phone, and a wig. There was also a fake Florida driver’s license with Dena’s picture on it. She was planning her escape, and Missy was helping her.”
“What a shame she didn’t leave the week before.” Hannah said, rubbing Brody’s shoulder.
He took her hand and squeezed it. “What a shame we can’t prove anything.”
“We’ll be watching him. If he sneezes in the wrong place . . .” Stella promised. There was no such thing as a happy ending in a murder case, but she hated having a loose end.
“Did you pass your pistol qualification?” Brody asked.
“Yesterday.” Stella was glad to have that behind her. It hadn’t been her best performance, but she’d gotten through it.
The hose shut off with a squeak. Dripping, Carson raced across the deck and into the back door. Mac dried his hands on his thighs and sat next to Stella.
Hannah greeted Mac with a kiss on the cheek and hugged Stella. She waggled her eyebrows at her brother.
Mac shook his head. “Don’t start.”
“Don’t start what?” Hannah handed them each a glass of iced tea.
Stella took the drink, condensation coated the outside of the glass. Mac sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Dinner!” Ellie called from the doorway.
Mac helped Brody inside. Twenty minutes later, the platters were picked over, and Stella’s belly was full. She leaned back, almost appalled at how much she’d eaten.
Mac nudged her elbow. “I’m impressed.”
She placed a hand on her belly. “I hadn’t eaten all day. I was hungry.”
“You must have been.” He took their empty plates and carried them to the kitchen. Everyone helped clear the table. Nan brought two blueberry pies and a container of vanilla ice cream to the table.
“Pie!” Carson folded his feet under his butt to get closer.
Faith thumped her fists on the tray of her high chair.
“I hope you’re not too full,” Mac said.
“There’s always room for pie.” But Stella couldn’t manage the ice cream.
When the coffee and pie were finished, Mac tugged her from her chair. “Let’s take a walk.” Outside, he inhaled as if he couldn’t get enough fresh air.
Mac took Stella’s hand and pulled her toward the side yard. The simple, old-fashioned gesture sent a jolt of warmth through her. He made her feel more than heat, whether he was making passionate love to her or simply looking at her.
“How many biology lessons have you given your nephew?” she asked.
“Every visit turns into a thousand questions. The kid remembers everything.” His face beamed with pride.
“Do you spend a lot of time with him?”
“Not as much as I should.” Mac frowned. “The travel gets in the way, and I was afraid the kids would get too attached and then if something happened to me . . .”
“It would devastate him. He clearly loves you very much.” Stella’s heart hiccupped. So did she.
“I know. I’ve been rethinking my career.”
“You’re not going back to the DEA?” Stopping, she tugged on his hand until he faced her. The thought of another drug trafficker’s bullet finding him, of him dying in a far-away jungle, sent a wave of fear careening through her. She didn’t want him to leave again. “Carson wouldn’t be the only one devastated if anything happened to you.”
“Good to know.” Pleasure lit his eyes. “In the beginning, it felt like I was doing my share to fight the drug trade. Grant was off fighting the war. I wanted to contribute something.”
She squeezed his hand. “There’s more than one way to contribute to society. I can think of dozens. Most of them don’t even require getting shot at or having people try to lop off your limbs with a machete.”
“I’m not going back to Brazil. I’m leaving the DEA.”
“Really?” She threw her arms around his neck.
His arms closed around her, holding tight, as if he didn’t want to let her go. He whispered into her hair, “Really. I gave them all the information I had on Freddie’s gang. The raid went off without a hitch yesterday.”
“What about the contract he put on you?” Stella asked. “Can’t he still orchestrate that from prison?” Criminals did it all the time.
“There’s nothing I can do about that.” Mac looked away. “Freddie and Rafe were both taken into custody. Their assets were seized. Hopefully they won’t have any funds to pay a would-be assassin. Killers don’t work for free.”
“That’s not the tidy answer I was hoping for.”
“Sorry. I promised you no more secrets.”
“I know.” She held him tighter. “And I appreciate that. I always want the truth, even if it’s not the best news.”
“I don’t expect Freddie to be a problem from prison. He’s hardly Al Capone.” Mac let his hands slide down her body then wrapped them around her waist. “Your boss called me.”
“Horner?” Stella’s boss was full of surprises lately.
“Yes. The local search and rescue team needs volunteers. He thinks I’d be an asset.”
“There’s no doubt you would be. It’s a perfect fit for you.”
“I think so, too.” He linked his arm “And I touched base with the university. They have an opening for a biology professor.”
“That’s very sexy in an Indiana Jones way.”
He laughed. “I’m glad you think so.” Mac’s face went serious. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”
“I know what you mean.” Stella flattened her hands on the hard planes of his chest.
“I worry about you, and I will never get used to you going off to fight crime without me. You bring out the primitive instincts in me. I want to stand in front of you with a knife and kill anyone who so much as looks at you funny. But I also know that you’re a cop at heart, and you’d never be happy doing anything else. So I’ll deal with it because I not only love you, I respect you, and I want you to be happy.”
“You’re really staying?” Stella couldn
’t believe it.
“Yes. I’m going to be there for my family. I’m going to be a part of their lives.” He kissed her gently on the lips. He tasted like pie. “I’d like to be a part of your life, too, if you want me.”
“I do. I really do. I love you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
Mac kissed her temple. “That’s all I need, for now and forever.”
Acknowledgments
As always, credit goes to super-agent Jill Marsal, and to the entire team of Montlake Romance, especially my managing editor Anh Schluep and author herder/tech goddess Jessica Poore. Special thanks to Charlotte Herscher for helping me hone this book.
I’d also like to thank Amelia Elliot and Rayna Vause for their help with details, my Facebook sprint buddies for being my virtual cheerleaders, and Kendra Elliot for daily motivation.
About the Author
Photo © 2014 Marti Corn
Melinda Leigh abandoned her career in banking to raise her kids and never looked back. She started writing as a hobby, but soon she found her true calling creating characters and stories. Her debut novel, She Can Run, was a #1 Kindle bestseller in Romantic Suspense, a 2011 Best Book Finalist in The Romance Reviews, and a nominee for the 2012 International Thriller Award for Best First Book. She is also a three-time Daphne du Maurier Award finalist and the winner of the Golden Leaf Award. When she isn’t writing, Melinda is an avid martial artist: she holds a second-degree black belt in Kenpo karate and teaches women’s self-defense. She lives in a messy house with her husband, two teenagers, a couple of dogs, and two rescue cats.
Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls) Page 31