by Lara Norman
“I hope we can find out who did this. Maybe she’ll remember who it was.” Caleb rested his hands on Lori’s shoulders and massaged them.
“I say it was Steven Chatsworth,” Devon muttered.
“Why do you think that?” Lori asked with a frown.
Devon scoffed as he glared over toward the door, remembering the way Simon Chatsworth had come in there talking about it. “The police found her on their property, but they wouldn't let us search at first.”
“But what reason would he have to be behind your property in the first place?” Lori pointed out. “Was he wandering around behind the shop for a reason?”
“It’s heavily wooded, so anyone could have come from the forest. I don’t know why he’d want to be back there, maybe he was just hiking and saw a little girl outside alone.”
Vince scrubbed at his eyes. “You’re talking about a police officer, Devon.”
“I think it was an unfortunate set of coincidences,” Caleb said. “Hailey walked outside, and the person who took her happened to be there and saw an opportunity.”
“An opportunity for what?” Devon said, his voice growing louder. “She’s five!”
Anna put a hand up. “Lower your voice before you wake her up. As much as you want her awake, I don’t think you want it to be because you're screaming about her kidnapper.”
Devon clamped his lips between his teeth to keep in the retort sitting on the tip of his tongue. The worst didn't happen, he reminded himself. Whatever the kidnapper wanted, they didn't get the chance to follow through on much. He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I still say Simon will cover it up to keep their reputation intact. We might as well be rivals since we both deal in woodworking.”
“I didn't get the impression the MPD would allow Steven Chatsworth on the case, Devon, so I believe it’s just a matter of time before they find out who it was.” Lori shifted before getting up to use the restroom.
“Well, I have to get to work,” Anna said. “We’ll be back this afternoon.” She and Vince said goodbye and left the room.
They heard the toilet flush, and Caleb leaned down to speak in his brother’s ear. “Are you still planning to . . . do something?”
Devon looked up at him. “If I hear who it was and get there first, you bet your ass.”
Caleb sighed and took the vacated chair, leaning his elbows on his knees to level his gaze at Devon. “You know I’ll always have your back, but neither of us can afford to go to jail.”
“You didn't hear Simon trying to kiss up and talk about how they would cooperate fully and he was so sure it wasn't one of his men. He’ll protect his son at all cost instead of letting the police do their job, and the guy will walk free.”
Lori opened the bathroom door, and Caleb stared at her while he answered. “I don’t know about that, Devon.”
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” He wouldn't expect Caleb to put his life on the line for this, but he wouldn't let it go, either. He couldn't.
Chapter Eleven
For Devon, the next morning passed slowly. He itched to get out, to grab Hailey and run from that place. He was sick of the hospital, sick of the machines and the constant stream of people. He realized he needed to go, to get out in the world before he lost his mind. Guilt ate at him for having those feelings because Hailey needed him. She was awake more and more, and she would want him by her side. His emotions warred within him as he tried to determine the right thing to do. His dad would be there in less than an hour, and the others would be there later, too. All his friends and family had been there the day before when Hailey stayed awake for a solid hour. They’d listened intently to the doctor explain she’d regain her memory in stages. Hailey knew she’d been in a well, and she knew someone else had been there with her. The doctor predicted it was just a matter of days before the rest came back to her.
Sergeant Hurley would arrive later in the afternoon to tell Devon everything they’d learned so far during their investigation. John was confident they were close to piecing together what happened, and the only missing link was the identity of the perpetrator. Devon was positive it was Steven Chatsworth, and that his father continued to cover it up. Simon hadn't been happy when Devon quit to start up his own company, especially since he didn't source his materials from the local mill. Chatsworth Mill and Lumber always came in overpriced, so the brothers had found a different vendor from the beginning. They strove to buy everything else locally, but they wouldn't stand for price gouging.
Whoever it was, Devon looked forward to taking them down, but he’d learned to keep his thoughts on the matter to himself. He didn't want to worry Lori, and he certainly didn't want Caleb getting involved. Their baby was due any day, and they would have enough on their plates without adding Devon’s arrest and trial to their list of worries if he killed Steven. His parents could take care of Hailey if Devon put himself in a bind. The very idea of finding retribution warmed him from the inside out.
Hailey woke early in the morning. She smiled at her father and chattered about being hungry. She’d been allowed pudding—which was no hardship at all—and since it stayed down, they were slowly introducing more soft foods.
“Daddy, when is Grandpa coming?”
He smiled at her. “In about thirty minutes. See the clock? When the little hand is at the six.”
She bounced a little in the bed. “I miss him.”
“You’ve only seen him for a tiny bit, huh?”
She nodded. “I’m happy he’s coming and I’m awake.”
“I know, sweetie.”
He turned the TV on for her, trying to find something to occupy her until Don arrived. Devon was determined to go home and get some things for her, like books and her favorite stuffed horse. Few people were on the list of approved visitors, but he felt certain his dad could handle staying with her.
The door opened, and Don poked his head in, his face lighting up at the sight of Hailey awake. “Hailey bug! I love seeing your eyes open.”
He hurried to the bed, Hailey squealing in her excitement. He set down the box of donuts he carried and enveloped her in a bear hug. “Grandpa, I missed you!”
“I missed you, too, pumpkin.”
Restlessly, Devon stood to give them a few minutes together. Stretching his legs and staring out the small window overlooking the parking lot, he discovered he was suddenly dying to leave the room.
“Dad.” He turned to face his father and daughter. “I’m going home for a bit. I promise I won’t be long.”
Before grabbing his coat and the car keys his father offered him, he kissed Hailey on the head. He felt his heart racing in his throat as he jogged down the hallway. If something happened while he was gone, he would never forgive himself, but he simply couldn't spend one more second cooped up. He walked through visitor parking, clicking the lock button on the key fob he held until he found his father’s car. Merrimac being such a small town, Devon’s house was only a seven-minute drive from the hospital, and he was soon pulling into the driveway.
He hadn't been home since the night she went missing, spending his time at his parents’ house and then practically moving into the hospital. He’d loved that house from the second Kathy picked it but, as he let himself inside, he suddenly hated it. A grim feeling washed over him, and he no longer enjoyed the reminders of Kathy, the paint colors she’d picked, or the fact he and Hailey were alone. He wanted to be closer to his parents; in their house was best for the time being. He knew Hailey would agree with him once she was released.
It was rather shocking to discover how uncomfortable he felt in his house as he walked through the living room to the stairs. A pile of cards and letters on the kitchen island were visible to him on his way up to the landing. As he neared the second floor, he spotted Hailey’s open door. A huge mound of stuffed animals sat on the floor of her room, but he only wanted her constant companion. He picked Horsey up off the bed and tucked it under his arm. Hailey had a bag somewhere in the closet, and he dug
it out to drop in the horse and find her some more things.
After staring at the bookshelf, he finally picked a few books and placed them in the bag hanging from his arm. He picked through her clothes drawer next, adding a few nightgowns. When he was satisfied, he brought the bag to his room. The feeling of unease returned, but he couldn't place why. He made a mental note to call the only realtor he knew once he had a minute. First, he would take a shower in his own bathroom for a change, and then add clean clothes to the bag he packed. He looked longingly at his bed and figured a nap would be in his best interest. Stretching out on a flat surface for the first time in days, he couldn't help letting out a groan of satisfaction.
The sound of his cell phone ringing startled him awake sometime later. With a grunt, he plucked it from the bedside table. “Yeah.”
“Mr. McMillan, it’s Sergeant Hurley.”
“Hi.” He sat up and rubbed his face.
“I’ve got some information for you. The tire tracks at the well match tracks from the area surrounding your shop. We’ve narrowed it down to one of your company vehicles, and I can guarantee I know who it was.”
The sound of rushing water filled Devon’s head as John proceeded to share his suspicions. He heard John, but he might as well have been speaking from very far away. The words registered, but he couldn't comprehend them. How many times had others used those trucks for business and personal reasons? How often had he loaned his vehicles to his brother or his father after hours without question? The keys hung in the office for anyone to use at any time. Nausea crashed over him as he stumbled out of bed.
“Devon! Did you hear me?”
“He’s at the hospital,” Devon choked out, glancing at the clock as he made sure he was dressed. “He’s with her right now.” A combination of fury and panic gripped him in a stranglehold. “Get over there right now! There’s no way to know what he’ll do to her if he thinks she’ll remember!”
“I’m nowhere near the hospital, Devon, but Chloe is there. I’ll call her and have her go to Hailey’s room. I’ll call hospital security. Everything will be fine, I promise!”
It was the cold wash of betrayal making Devon numb. He couldn't believe it; didn't want to believe it was true. He paused on the threshold of a house tainted by a monster. “Are you positive, John?”
“I’m positive, Devon. I’m sorry.”
He forgot everything at the house as he ran out and got in the car. He didn't lock the door; he didn't put on his jacket. He sped to the hospital with dread in his gut pushing up the small amount of food he’d consumed earlier in the day. He barely made it to the lot before he had to stop the car and push his way out to puke on the pavement. The second he finished, he was racing as fast as his feet would take him. It was similar to the night they’d brought her in, except he was terrified of what that man would do if left alone with her. He knew her memory improved daily, and he knew how close he was to a five-year-old ratting him out. Devon choked on a sob as he ran, agony over the possibility of what might happen warring with the sharp stab of deceit. The elevator would never be fast enough; he ran for the sign indicating the stairs. Ignoring the acute pain in his side, he took the steps two at a time, bolting through the door on her floor and plowing directly into someone on the other side.
“Sorry!” was the best he could manage as they disentangled.
He tore off down the hall toward Hailey’s room, desperately hoping she was safe. He could focus on nothing else until he discovered that one thing was true. When he rounded the corner and her door came into view, he was so relieved to see a security guard outside her room he almost stopped breathing. Panting heavily, he drew to a stop in front of the man in uniform.
“I’m Hailey’s father, Devon McMillan. Please, tell me she's okay?”
“I’m sorry, sir, I need to see your ID before I can answer questions or allow you inside.”
“Shit.” Bending over, he pressed his hands to the stitch in his side as his head spun. “My wallet is at home. I was in such a hurry. The nurses know me. Call Sergeant Hurley. Please let me in to see if my baby is okay!”
“Devon?”
Tears poured down his face at the sound of Chloe’s voice. She stood in the doorway behind the officer who turned to look at her. “You’ll vouch for him, Miss Hemsworth?”
“Yes, Frank, he’s the girl’s father.”
Devon didn’t wait for pleasantries, he just pushed past Chloe and into the darkened room. The sky was overcast and the lights mostly off. The little girl in the bed was very still, and Devon froze as he waited for her chest to rise. When it did, he dropped into the nearest chair.
He was empty. Cold. Lost. What did he do to deserve such a fate?
“Devon?”
He didn't look up. “Did you speak to John?”
“I did, but he merely told me to get to her room immediately. What’s going on?” She kneeled in front of his chair so she could see his face. The misery there would be too much for anyone to bear.
“Was anyone in here with her?”
“No, which I found odd. She hasn't been alone since she was brought in.” Chloe touched his hand. “What’s going on?”
“John knows who it is.”
“Oh.” Chloe pressed a hand to her stomach. “It must be bad.”
Devon stared at her then. His face showed the results of his trauma, the creases of worry and lack of sleep, his eyes full of anguished tears.
“It’s beyond bad, Chloe. It’s more than I can even fathom. It’s—I can’t—”
With a strangled cry, he cut off his words. Dropping his head into his hands, he tried to decide what would be the right thing to do. Now more than ever, he wanted revenge. It wasn't some stranger who tried to kill his baby girl. No, that would have hurt less than the crushing sensation overtaking his heart. How had he not seen it when it was right there in front of him the whole time? Worse, the fucker had been a comfort to Devon when he’d known the entire time what he’d done. What a farce!
“I’ll kill him.”
Devon said it so quietly he didn’t know if Chloe heard him correctly, and he didn't care. He stood abruptly, and she had to brace herself on the foot of the bed to keep from falling on the floor as he moved past her.
He stopped outside the door. “You’ll make certain no one goes in or out? No one but Sergeant Hurley or Chief Hemsworth and her daughter.”
“Yes, sir, those are my orders.”
Satisfied they would protect Hailey, Devon made his way back down in the elevator and outside. He knew what he had to do.
He heard her approaching before she spoke. She ran after him, making a lot of noise as her shoes hit the pavement. “Devon!”
He ignored her, taking the shortest route through the forest. He knew what he had to do; find the proof first and then drag the asshole outside and beat the shit out of him. His blood boiled with the duplicity.
“Devon!”
He picked up his pace. Where was the loyalty? Where was the bond, the ties he thought bound them together? There was no getting past this. Not something this heinous. He was more than mad, he was furious; he was pissed. Rage built until his body was engulfed in flames and his breathing turned harsh as he jogged to his destination.
He found the truck first. There was mud on the tires, as was to be expected. That didn't mean anything. He looked inside the cab, finding nothing out of the ordinary. It was when he looked in the truck's bed that he found what he’d been looking for; proof. Overlooked because no one in the shop was a suspect, Devon was sure of it. He knew John wanted the truck, knew he would have found Hailey’s hair clip under a pile of dead leaves soon. Devon also knew who had last used the truck before work at the shop came to a screeching halt.
With his hands in fists, he spun toward the shop and pushed his way inside. A rampage was brewing, showing clear on his face.
His enemy came around the counter. “Devon, what are you doing here?”
“Looking for you, motherfucker,” he
seethed.
His eyes widened. “What? Why aren’t you at the hospital with—”
“Don't you dare say her name. I know it was you.”
“No, Devon.” The other man stopped walking, shock evident on his face.
“It was you!” Devon roared. “Don’t deny it! I found her hair clip in the truck you used!”
He ran.
Devon wasn't surprised in the least, and he took off after him. He was a coward, the lowest form of scum, covering his own ass.
Devon was faster.
They crashed, rolled, and dirt flew. Devon’s fist connected with flesh, and he sent up a howl full of heartbreak.
“You fucking bastard! You betrayed me!”
He punched him again. And again. His knuckles were slick with blood, and yet he continued to wail on the man on the ground. Tears ran down his face to mix with the blood and soak the earth.
“How could you do it? How could you?” he repeated with each strike.
“Devon!”
The scream was shrill enough to split the sky. Chloe’s hands were on him, yanking him off his victim and to the ground. “Enough! You’ll kill him, and then you can’t be there for Hailey!”
“He was my family, and he tried to kill my daughter!” Devon shouted at her, blinded by a torrent of tears as he lay in the mud. “He deserves it!”
“You don't! You deserve to live by her side instead of in prison! There’s no coming back from this if you continue,” she finished on a whisper which disappeared in the whipping wind.
Bringing his arms up, he crossed them over his face. He couldn't take it anymore. The shattering of his heart was complete. When the panic attack came, he allowed it to consume him.
He welcomed the oblivion.
Chapter Twelve
Lights flashed behind his eyelids. He didn't want to open them; didn't want to face the truth he’d discovered. It was more than he could mentally and emotionally handle. It was simply too much. He wanted to hide under the blankets from the monster he now saw when he looked into the eyes of the man he’d known for so fucking long. Clearly, no amount of loyalty, brotherhood, or love had mattered to him when he’d done it.