by Terri Reed
“When the charm was identified as Christina’s,” he continued, “I wondered. Then she skipped town with Georgina, coupled with Burke’s death…leads me to believe she’s got a dark side. Now we know for sure she’s capable of violence. When we take Christina into custody, we’ll run her DNA. If it matches…”
“Then she was at least there when Olivia was killed. She could have been struck with the same rock, for all you know.”
“True. Unless she confesses, the evidence places her at the crime scene but doesn’t make her a murderer.”
Meghan’s reporter instincts were clamoring, sensing a bigger story than she’d originally anticipated. One worthy of catapulting her career forward. Just what the story entailed she had yet to determine. “But Ryan, if these masked gunmen are connected to Christina, then whatever she’s into, it’s bigger than my cousin’s or Burke Hennessy’s death.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right. But I don’t have a clue what she’s gotten herself into or how big it is.”
Setting aside the lure of a big story for the moment, she put her hand on his. “Promise me, Ryan, the priority will be getting Georgina back safely.”
He covered her hand with his. “I promise.”
She swallowed a tide of unease. She could only hope once she told him the truth about Olivia’s parentage he’d be a man of his word and keep his promise.
* * *
The next morning, Ryan sat at his desk staring out the window of his office in the fishing village where he’d grown up. It was a beautiful June day, the sun was shining, a nice breeze blew in from the bay, and the townspeople were busy with their lives despite that fact that twice in the past six months there’d been a murder in their quiet haven. Two more than there’d been in the past several decades.
Frustration beat a steady tempo behind his eyes. The town and its people wouldn’t be safe until he got to the bottom of Olivia Henry’s and Burke Hennessy’s deaths.
But did those two murders have anything to do with the van that ambushed him and Meghan yesterday?
The van was nowhere to be found, Christina Hennessy and little Georgina were still missing, and Ryan’s father wanted to call in the FBI. Ryan knew they should. Their police department wasn’t equipped to do a full-scale investigation across state lines. But losing the case chafed.
A knock at his door brought up his gaze. Meghan Henry stood in the doorway. His breath caught in his chest. Her cheek still bore the mark from the hit she’d taken by Christina’s thug. But nothing could detract from the natural beauty she exuded. Today she wore white capris and a light purple flowing top. She looked like a fairy princess. All she needed was a crown of flowers.
He frowned. When did he become so whimsical? That wasn’t like him. “Morning, Meghan. How’s your shoulder?”
She briefly touched the place on her shoulder where a bullet had grazed her. The bandage covering the wound wasn’t visible beneath her top. “Doctor says it will hurt for a while, but will heal.” Dropping her hand, she asked, “How are your injuries?”
“Barely noticeable.” Except when he breathed real deep. But admitting to the vulnerability wasn’t going to happen.
She strode forward and stopped at the edge of his desk in a swirl of energy. “Has there been any news about Georgina?”
“No, I’m sorry, there hasn’t been. I’m about to call the FBI and hand over the case to them.”
She drew back. “No. You promised you’d find Georgina.”
“Meghan, this is bigger than this department can handle. Christina has crossed state lines. Though technically, she hasn’t kidnapped her child.”
Anger flashed in her hazel eyes. “But Georgina’s not hers!”
He understood her upset but he had to follow the law. “That’s for a judge to decide.”
“Georgina’s in danger. You saw Christina. She’s nuts. If nothing else, she held a cop at gunpoint. Surely that warrants you pursuing her.”
“We’re doing everything in our power to bring her in.”
“You maybe, but not your father. He’s as responsible for Olivia’s death as Christina.”
“My father?” The woman had obviously lost her mind. Maybe the blow to the head had loosened something. “What are you talking about?”
She waved a letter in the air. The letter from Olivia, he guessed.
“Your father knew that Olivia had come to Fitzgerald Bay looking for her baby girl, and he chose to ignore her pleas for help.”
He let out a scoff full of annoyance. “That is untrue. My father barely knew Olivia.”
“Really? Is that what he told you?” She shook her head. “I’m not going to let you all sweep this under the rug. If your father had done the right thing to begin with Olivia would never… Her life would have been different. Better. She wouldn’t be dead now.”
Fury swept over him at the implication in her words. “What are you saying?”
“Your father is also Olivia’s biological father. Olivia’s your half sister.”
No! Not possible. His father was the best man he knew, as solid a citizen as they came. A churchgoing man who loved the Lord. The role model Ryan could only hope to live up to. Dad would not have ever cheated on his wife. They’d had the best marriage, until Maureen Fitzgerald had passed away from cancer a few years ago. Her death had hit them all hard.
Now this reporter was disparaging his father. He’d see Meghan Henry locked behind bars before he’d let her destroy his family.
FOUR
Meghan waited, watching Ryan as he absorbed her announcement. The blue shirt of his uniform matched his eyes. Eyes that now gathered storm clouds. She’d known this wouldn’t be easy, and he wouldn’t take it well. But the truth had to come out.
Her body tensed, ready to react if he so much as twitched in her direction.
He remained very, very still. “How dare you make such a slanderous claim.”
“I’m not claiming it. Olivia is.” She’d been as shocked as he apparently was when she’d read the letter that outlined how Olivia had sought help with the situation from her biological father when she first arrived in Fitzgerald Bay. Aiden Fitzgerald had refused. “Your father and my aunt Tara had an affair.”
In one fluid, swift motion, he reached across his desk and snatched the letter from her hands before she even had time to react.
Stunned, her heart hammered in her chest and blood pounded at her temples. So much for those self-defense classes she’d taken. They hadn’t prepared her for Ryan Fitzgerald’s ninjalike moves.
Ryan unfolded Olivia’s letter and read the contents. His face paled. He shook his head. “This can’t be true.”
“You believed her about Georgina,” she pointed out.
She’d known the news wouldn’t be received well. She’d witnessed how the breath of scandal had rocked the Fitzgerald clan over the past few months as Charles Fitzgerald had become the number one suspect in Olivia’s murder.
Now with him cleared, she was sure the family would do all they could to keep this information about Olivia’s parentage from surfacing. But she couldn’t allow that. Aiden Fitzgerald had helped take away Meghan’s one known remaining relative. Meghan would make sure he atoned for his part in Olivia’s death, because now her only living relation was missing and in danger.
“My father wouldn’t have done such a thing.” Ryan’s voice shook with rage and disbelief. “And if you breathe a word of this to the public, I’ll lock you up so fast you won’t know what hit you.”
Oh, she’d known all right. But she was done being anyone’s victim, even a gorgeous lawman’s. She’d ditched that label a long time ago. Meghan would only bow down for God.
“You can’t suppress the truth,” she said. “You read the letter. Ol
ivia came here and contacted her father first. He refused to help her. If he had done what he should have, she wouldn’t be dead now.”
“There’s no proof of any of this.” He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a thick file. He flipped through until he found what he was looking for. Holding up a sheet of paper, he said, “This is Olivia’s birth certificate from Ireland. There is no name listed under father.”
“That’s because your father refused to acknowledge her. It was heartbreaking to read Olivia’s words of the father who hadn’t wanted her, but she had known about him her whole life. That’s why she came to him for help.”
“I refuse to believe it.” The letter fluttered to the desktop.
“Doesn’t matter if you want to or not, it’s the truth.” She reached for the letter.
He grasped her wrist with firm, but gentle pressure. The fight-or-flight response roared through her system like a runaway train engine. She reacted instantaneously, calling upon the self-defense classes she’d taken last year, by twisting her arm and jerking toward where his thumb lay against her wrist bone, knowing that was the weak point of his hold. She broke the contact and jumped back. She’d come a long way from the frightened young woman who’d been too afraid to do anything but accept the way her husband treated her.
They stared at each other for a long, tense moment. Ryan’s cold blue eyes drilled through her. She regained her step, aware on some level she had messed with his control. She rather liked having some leverage.
“I think you should leave.” He rounded the desk and crowded her back several steps.
The urge to cower gripped her, but she held her ground. However she couldn’t stop the instinctive flinch as he reached past her to open the door. His big warm body didn’t touch her, but the air swirled around her with his heat. The spicy scent of his aftershave filled her head, invading her senses. Her fingers curled into fists. She didn’t want him inside her head.
“Run along now, Miss Henry,” he said, stepping back.
Being dismissed like some errant child infuriated her to no end. “Look, you don’t have to like me, but you have to treat me with respect.”
“Respect?” He nearly sneered. “You come into my office and accuse my father of…” He made a noise in his throat. “You could have written that letter, for all I know.”
“I didn’t!”
He leaned in close, his voice tight and low. “Are you working for Judge Monroe? Has he put you up to this? Trying to smear my father now that the judge’s chances of winning the election are as good as gone because everyone knows he raised a bad seed?”
“Of course not,” she protested, strangely hurt by the suspicion written all over his face. She’d been as horrified as the rest of the folks in town to learn that the judge’s son, Hank Monroe, one of Fitzgerald Bay’s police officers, had tried to hurt Victoria Evans, the owner of the Sugar Plum Café and Inn.
If not for Ryan’s brother Owen, Victoria and her daughter would have been seriously injured, if not killed. And now Owen and Victoria were a couple. Again. Apparently, they’d been in love long ago but then Victoria had left town and only recently returned. With the daughter Owen didn’t know about. Seemed the Fitzgerald clan were chock-full of drama and intrigue.
A good thing for Meghan and the story she was piecing together about Olivia’s life and murder. And the investigation by the Fitzgerald Bay Police Department.
Ryan narrowed his gaze. “What are you after, Miss Henry?”
“The truth. Justice. And I want to make sure Georgina is found safely.”
For a moment he studied her, his gaze bold and assessing. She returned the favor. There was an intrinsic strength in the angles of his face, the slope of his nose, the firmness of his lips. She had the sudden craving to lay her palm against his clean-shaven jaw to see if the skin was really as smooth as it appeared. His features struck a fine balance between rugged and handsome.
A flutter whipped through her and she deliberately squashed the wayward attraction knocking at her consciousness.
He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Then we want the same things.”
“Okay, good.” At least they were on the same page.
Though she had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well for one of them. She wanted justice for her cousin, safety for Georgina, and her job as a reporter was to expose the truth, regardless that doing so would tarnish the reputation of Aiden Fitzgerald.
A truth Ryan would just as soon suppress. He wanted justice because of his duty to serve and protect, but not at the cost of his family. Too bad.
Deciding it was time to retreat, she turned to storm away, but found her nose buried in a man’s chest. With a squawk she jerked back, bumping against Ryan’s hard chest. With Ryan behind her and his imposing father filling the doorway, she was sandwiched between Fitzgeralds.
Police Chief Aiden Fitzgerald regarded her with the famous Fitzgerald baby blues. Only his eyes didn’t hold the same sort of coldness that his eldest son’s did. Not nearly as tall as his son, he was still very attractive with salt-and-pepper hair that was beginning to recede. “What’s the matter here? I heard raised voices.”
“Miss Henry was just leaving.”
Oh, he’d like it if she meekly scuttled off like some bug he’d rather squish than deal with. Well, he had another thing coming. “As a matter of fact, Chief Fitzgerald, I was hoping to speak to you.”
She ducked around Ryan and retreated back to the belly of his office, forcing both men to follow. Taking advantage of the fact that Ryan was too far away to try his lightning-fast ninja moves on her, she picked up the letter and turned to face the two Fitzgerald men.
A gale force of rage swept across Ryan’s face. She swallowed hard, but refused to be intimidated by his clear displeasure. She addressed the elder Fitzgerald. “This is a letter from my cousin, Olivia.”
She held out the sheet of paper. “You should read this.”
Aiden took the letter. As he silently read the words written by his daughter, Meghan shifted her gaze to Ryan. His expression had turned to stone, his hands clenched at his sides, his back ramrod straight.
He stared out the large window behind his desk, but she doubted he saw the crystal-blue June sky or the quaint New England fishing village named after his family. Even standing completely motionless, vitality radiated off him like some invisible force field that drew her in instead of repelling her.
It didn’t make sense. She shouldn’t find this man attractive. Well, okay, the outward package was appealing; there was no denying that. Tall, broad shouldered, lean and a face that could grace a magazine cover were all well and good in an abstract sort of way.
But she shouldn’t be noticing or caring. The last thing she wanted in her life was an overbearing, control freak. Once in a lifetime was enough, thank you very little.
Though she couldn’t erase the memory of the kind and compassionate way he’d treated her yesterday when they’d been shot at. When she’d been shot. Her shoulder ached something fierce, but the pain medication the doctor gave her kept the throbbing to a dull roar.
Ryan’s gaze slid to meet hers. She’d been staring and he’d caught her. One dark eyebrow rose ever so slightly. A blush worked its way up her neck but she would not look away. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of backing down. Not that she believed Ryan’s ego would be fed by her shrinking like a wilted flower. He wasn’t like her ex-husband who enjoyed seeing her cower.
Aiden cleared his throat; there was a sickly pallor about his complexion. His pensive expression was unexpected. Meghan tensed. Where were the vehement denials she’d anticipated? He sat in Ryan’s chair and held his head in his hands.
“Dad?” Ryan’s voice held a note of uncertainty.
“We need an emergency family meeting at
the house. I want everyone there at nine o’clock, tomorrow morning.” Aiden strode to the door, the letter clutched in his hand. He paused and glanced back. “Ryan, bring Miss Henry with you.”
* * *
Ryan stared after his father in confusion. Had he lost his mind? Bring Meghan to the house?
Ryan recoiled at the idea. Bringing anyone to the house meant one of two things: significant other or old and trusted friend. Meghan certainly wasn’t either, and Ryan had never brought anyone home. Serious and relationship didn’t belong together in his vocabulary.
But the more pressing question was why hadn’t his dad set the record straight and told Meghan the letter was a fake?
Because it was true?
The thought streaked through his brain setting him back a step.
No! It couldn’t be true. He refused to believe it. His father wouldn’t have cheated on his mother. Never!
His father had to be calling a family meeting to refute Olivia’s claim and prepare the family for another unsubstantiated scandal.
As if the family hadn’t suffered enough these past six months with all the speculation and conjecture about Charles having murdered Olivia.
Add in his father’s bid for mayor against a judge and a lawyer, both of whom reveled in every bit of dirt they could dig up on the family, and it had been a rough few months. His head pounded. Thinking of all they’d endured exhausted him. Imagining there could be more with this letter…
“Will you pick me up? Or should I meet you there?” Meghan asked, impatience lacing her words.
Drawing himself up, he marshaled his control and strode out of the office. The pesky woman grated across his nerves like an out-of-tune guitar. “You can meet me here at 8:45.”
* * *
The next morning Meghan arrived at the police station a few minutes early in a rental car. She didn’t want to give Ryan any excuses for leaving without her—though she could have easily found the Fitzgerald home on her own.
The place was quiet on this early Wednesday morning. She found Ryan in his office, sitting with his back to the door. She knocked. He straightened and slowly turned. He looked tired and haunted. Dark circles ringed his blue eyes.