Protective Custody

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Protective Custody Page 18

by Wynter Daniels


  He should tell her about Ed and about Jarity’s brother, but he needed a few more minutes to hold her and recharge his battery. Shutting his eyes, he forced all the bad stuff out of his mind. He pulled in a breath of her scent—and their scent. Her skin felt like velvet as he skimmed his hand over her side.

  She purred softly and wriggled against him. Minutes later her rhythmic breathing told him she’d fallen asleep. Glancing at his watch, he grimaced. If he planned to be at the sheriff’s office when Harvey Jarity arrived, he’d have to leave soon. And he definitely wanted to hear what the man had to say.

  Megan reached across the bed, searching for Will’s warmth, but the sheets were cool to the touch. She peeled her eyes open and found him sitting on the chair, tying his shoelaces.

  Why was he dressed? “Where are you going?”

  He tilted his head up and met her stare. “Well, we need to talk about that.” He returned to his task, but not before she noticed his furrowed brow.

  She sat up and tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

  His lips compressed. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Something happened this morning.”

  Goose bumps sprawled over her skin. She grabbed the robe from the bedpost and wrapped it around herself. “What is it, Will? You’re scaring me.”

  He took her hands and exhaled deeply. “I went to see Ed this morning. The news about Jarity’s death hadn’t hit the papers or the airwaves yet, and I wanted to see his reaction.” He glanced toward the window. “But mostly I had to know why he drugged me and why the hell he would help a monster like Jarity commit a murder.”

  She flashed on Jarity’s face and the awful smell of his breath. She shuddered. “Did Ed deny it?”

  “At first. Wasn’t like I had any proof.”

  “I know he drugged you. You didn’t wake up when I screamed at you.”

  He nodded. “I know. He finally owned up to it. Apparently Ed had major money problems. His wife was milking him dry. He caught Jarity trying to break into your house a few days ago.”

  She gasped. “Oh God.” Bile burned the back of her throat.

  “Jarity offered to pay him off to keep his mouth shut about that. And to divulge where we were hiding.”

  The hurt in Will’s eyes made her heart ache. He climbed off the bed and paced the room.

  “Talk to me.” She yearned to hold him, but if he’d wanted that, he wouldn’t have gotten up.

  He stopped walking and hooked his fingers behind his neck. “He put a gun in his mouth and blew his brains out right in front of me. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop him.”

  The aura of his anguish filled the room. She went to him and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, Will. I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you.”

  His cheek brushed the side of her face. “It was pretty bad.”

  She wished there were something she could do to ease his pain, something she could say, but only time would help.

  “There’s more.” He grasped her shoulders and met her stare.

  She steeled herself for another emotional jolt.

  “Jarity’s brother, Harvey, was arrested in Miami last night. He entered the country with three young ladies from Sri Lanka. But he got scared and offered to rat out John if they went easy on him.”

  She sucked in a breath. “You think he knows something about the girl his brother murdered?”

  “I hope so. There were other girls. The sheriff’s office located several and rescued them from the people who bought them. Harvey’s supposed to arrive at the sheriff’s office here in the next hour or so. I plan to sit in on the interview. I want to know exactly what those bastards were up to.”

  Fear and excitement swirled in her belly. “Can I come, Will? Please?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think—”

  “Please, Will. After all I’ve been through, I need to know who that girl was and why Jarity killed her. And I need to hear that others were saved. It’s important to me.” The end of this nightmare was finally in sight.

  He combed his fingers through his hair and narrowed his gaze. “Okay, fine. But you need to get dressed in a hurry. And I can’t promise they’ll let you sit in. We don’t usually do that for civilians.”

  She hurried to her closet and snatched a pair of jeans off a hanger. “You’re a civilian. If you can see it, why can’t I?”

  “Well, that’s another thing I wanted to speak to you about. I’ve been offered my old job back. I’m thinking about going for it.”

  She smiled but remained silent. It wasn’t up to her to influence his decision. She fastened her pants, then pulled on a sweater. “Okay.”

  Half an hour later she sat in a darkened room and stared through the glass at a man who resembled John Jarity but was a little shorter, a little heavier. Disgust roiled in her belly.

  Will set a hand on her thigh. “You all right?”

  Nodding, she inched her seat closer to his. She listened, fascinated and horrified, as Harvey told the two detectives interviewing him his story. He spoke of the tyrannical older brother who had beaten and tormented him his whole life, how he’d learned at an early age never to defy John, no matter what.

  Then one of the officers asked him about the murder.

  “I wasn’t even there, I swear. John called and told me to get my ass to the store on Henderson Street because he had an emergency. When I got there, I saw her.” He started to cry, and the detectives exchanged a glance.

  A potent stew of emotions threatened to overwhelm Megan, but she tamped them down and listened.

  “John said I had to help him hide her body. I didn’t want to, but he made me. We wrapped her in trash bags and drove to the marina. John has a pontoon there. We took it out to the middle of the lake.” His face reddened. “We put some rocks in the bag, then threw it into the water.”

  “Who was she?” one of the detectives asked.

  Harvey buried his face in his hands and sobbed. “A nice girl. Her name was Nisha, and I brought her back from Sri Lanka. John had me pay her family for her. To be his maid.” He looked from one cop to the other. “I think John made her have sex with him.”

  Megan covered her mouth to keep from getting sick. Will put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her against him.

  “John’s wife liked to do crafts, so Nisha taught her to make the silver jewelry popular in her region of Sri Lanka. My wife said the girl had a real talent. Lots of Ruth Ann’s friends even bought Nisha’s designs. So Nisha thought she could sell some herself, make a life for herself. She wanted John to set her up in a store—the empty one on Henderson. She was going to tell Ruth Ann about him sleeping with her if he didn’t let her.”

  “And he went along with that?” one of the detectives asked.

  “He pretended to,” Harvey continued. “They argued, and he—” he took a gulp from the glass of water on the table, “—he strangled her.”

  Megan had to get out of there. If she didn’t, she’d scream. “I’ll wait outside,” she told Will.

  He threaded his fingers through hers and stood. “I’ll come with you.”

  They walked to a bank of vending machines at the end of the long corridor.

  “Why doesn’t he have a lawyer?” Megan asked.

  “He didn’t want one.” He tipped his chin toward the candy machine. “Hungry?”

  “No.”

  “How do you feel?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Sad, relieved, disgusted, angry, vindicated. You name it.”

  He nodded. “At least you know her name now. And the others will be returned to their families.”

  “Will they try to find her body?”

  “Yeah, but don’t hold your breath. There are lots of gators in that lake. Might not be anything left. But I gave them the earring you found. If they find the mate on her, that’ll help with the identification.”

  She cringed. “Poor thing. Fi
rst her family sells her into virtual slavery. Then Jarity rapes her, God knows how many times. Then the bastard kills her.” She glanced up the hall toward the room they’d just left. The idea of going back nauseated her. “Do you mind if I sit out the rest?”

  He drew her into his strong embrace. “No, baby. I don’t mind. We can leave if you want.”

  She tried for a smile. “Thanks. It’s been quite a day.”

  “I’ll understand if you need to be alone tonight, but I’d like to come over.” She saw a vulnerability in his eyes that she’d never noticed before. He needed to be with her as much as she did with him, although he’d never admit it. He was hurting as much as she.

  She had so much to do between arrangements for Gram’s memorial service and explaining all that had transpired to her boss, but Will had put her before everything else in his life, and she owed him the same. “That would be nice.”

  ***

  An icy wind blew over the Gulf of Mexico, and Megan grasped the railing as the boat pitched and rocked.

  “You okay?” Will pulled her into his arms, but their bulky life vests prevented them from getting too close.

  She tried for a smile. His warmth provided comfort that was more than just thermal. She wouldn’t have survived the past two weeks without him. She drew in a deep breath infused with the briny scent of the sea. “I’m good. I know this was what Gram wanted.” She glanced at the plastic box that held two urns a few feet away. Gram’s urn was decorated with lilacs, her favorite.

  She eased out of his embrace. It wasn’t just the two of them there. To her left, a quiet, dark-haired girl cried. Megan took her hand.

  Athula looked at her and smiled. “Thank you for letting me come,” she said in heavily accented English.

  Megan smoothed a hand over Athula’s hair. “When will you go home?”

  “We all leave tomorrow.”

  Megan nodded. The ICE had taken over the case and discovered four other girls, including Athula.

  Will wiped a tear from Megan’s cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Proud? Why?”

  “You gave that girl some dignity in death.” He pointed at the other urn, which held Nisha’s ashes. “I still can’t believe you were able to contact her family halfway around the world.”

  “I didn’t do it alone. Thank you for all your help, by the way.” The U.S. consulate had done all the legwork in Sri Lanka, and Will had convinced Ruth Ann Jarity to give over the girl’s possessions. “At least now her mother knows. I owed Nisha that.”

  “You couldn’t have stopped her murder, Megan. Stop torturing yourself.”

  Athula touched her arm. “We’re all so grateful for everything you did.”

  She managed a smile.

  “Just a few more minutes, folks,” the boat captain called from the upper deck.

  “Do you have a special spot picked out?” Will asked Megan.

  She shook her head. “By law we have to be at least three miles from shore.” With the moment looming when she’d have to part with her grandmother’s ashes, sadness gripped her heart. She wished Gram had been accepting of Will, but nothing could change that now. Deep in her heart, she knew Gram wanted her to be happy more than anything, and Will made her happy.

  The boat’s engines suddenly cut off. “Okay, Miss Jackson,” the captain said.

  She picked up the simple white vase etched with a single rose that held Nisha’s ashes. “I’m so sorry that your short life came to such a tragic end. I hope you’re in a better place now. Rest in peace.” She handed the urn to Athula.

  The girl threw the container into the water, and it bobbed on the waves.

  Megan prayed she’d hold it together as she said goodbye to Gram.

  Will picked up Gram’s urn and handed it to her. She held it close to her chest, and her eyes immediately filled. “I love you so much, Gram. I remember when Mama died you told me something I’ve always kept with me. You said even though Mama wasn’t with us anymore, her spirit would stay in our hearts forever. And that’s right where I’ll keep you.” Will’s hand on her back bolstered her.

  She sucked in a steadying breath. “I am who I am because of you, Gram. You’ll always be the brightest star in the sky and the loveliest flower in the garden. Someday I’ll tell my children all about you, and you’ll live on in them and in their hearts too.” She threw the urn into the gulf. It splashed, then floated a few yards away from the other one.

  Will handed her a bouquet.

  One by one, she tossed the brightly colored flowers overboard. “Rest in peace, Gram.”

  As the boat sailed away minutes later, Megan watched Nisha’s ashes slip gently under the surface. Soon Gram’s would too, but she didn’t want to see that. She blew a kiss in the air, then sat on a bench.

  Will joined her and took her hand. “How do you feel?”

  Gazing into his dark green eyes eased the pain. “Better. Thanks for coming. It helps that you’re here.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I always want to be where you are, baby. Forever and ever.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Me too.” Wherever life took them, with Will, she would always be home.

  About the Author

  Wynter Daniels began making up stories as soon as she could speak. She started working on her first novel in college—a mystery. But she soon realized the collegiate life involved way more than books, so she spent the rest of her time in academia partying.

  When the writing bug bit her again years later, she tried her hand at many different romance genres, from contemporary to suspense to erotic. She is now published with Ellora’s Cave, Red Sage Publishing and Loose Id. Protective Custody is her first release from Carina Press.

  Wynter lives in sunny Florida with her real-life hero, their two grown children and two spoiled cats. She sincerely hopes her stories are as much fun for you to read as they were for her to write.

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  ISBN: 978-1-4268-9159-5

  Copyright © 2011 by Wynter Daniels

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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