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David squirmed in his sleep and made one of his puppylike snuffling noises. He deserved a good night’s sleep. In a real bed. And so did she.
Maggie stifled a yawn and headed for the door.
As she grasped the knob, she turned to take one more look at her past. What had once appeared dangerous and exciting, now simply looked sad.
She shook her head. Something white on the lower bunk caught her eye.
There was a lumpy sleeping bag, as usual, tossed over Eric’s belongings, as if no one would be smart enough to look there for his valuable stuff. His guitar, his pistol…
The light-colored thing took on eerie dimensions as she stepped closer to check it out. Almost like a—
Hand.
She jostled what she figured had to be his arm under the sleeping bag.
“Eric,” she whispered. She didn’t want to wake the baby.
She shoved a little harder.
No response.
“Come on, Eric, this isn’t funny.”
David whimpered in his sleep.
Losing patience with Eric’s games, she grabbed the sleeping bag and flung it back.
Time froze, Maggie froze.
She scrambled for the hand she’d seen, grasped the wrist. It was warm.
The wild thumping of her heart eased.
Until she looked at his face.
And knew, without a doubt, her searching fingers wouldn’t find a pulse. She’d been around enough corpses in her embalming class to recognize death.
Her eyes widened at David’s shrill screech of baby rage. It rang in her ears, bounced off the fake wood-grain walls, slashed through her to the very core. Only when she slapped a hand to her open mouth did she realize the screams came from her. Then, and only then, did the baby join in.
MAGGIE SHIFTED in the cold, metal chair, David’s cries echoing in her head and in her heart.
She could almost feel his terror as he’d been taken from her arms. His little hands had clutched at her shirt, his eyes wide with panic.
And she’d been forced to let him go. Hand him over to strangers. It was her worst nightmare come true. Nameless, faceless authorities taking her son away because she wasn’t a fit mother.
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she brushed them away. This was all a big mistake. They would figure out she wasn’t capable of hurting Eric, wouldn’t they?
She eyed the two deputies as one set down a foam cup of coffee for her. Both wore bland expressions.
“I don’t drink coffee.”
A half truth. Used to drink the stuff by the bucketful. Back before David, when she’d been a college student with ample scholarship money. These days, generic cola was much cheaper and did a decent job of keeping her eyes open.
But now her nerves jangled and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to close her eyes again. When she did, all she saw was Eric. And blood. So much blood.
She should be used to it by now, or she had no business pursuing a profession where it was such an integral part of the process.
“How about a pop?” The scrawny deputy did most of the talking. He wasn’t a bad guy, all in all. It was Deputy Wells, the big, beefy, quiet one who made her nervous.
“No, thank you. I just want to get back to my baby.”
“He’s fine. A caseworker’s watching him while we talk.”
“There’s no need for a caseworker. We’ll clear this up, then I’ll take care of David.”
“Hmm. We’ll need your story, from the top.”
“I’ve already told you.”
“That was an initial interview at the scene. We need your complete story. Details.”
Maggie didn’t like the way Wells kept calling it her story. As if her version were obviously fictitious.
She drew in a deep, calming breath. This guy held her future, as well as her son’s future, in his big, square hands.
“Your relationship with the victim was…”
“You know darn well—”
Warning flashed in the deputy’s eyes.
“I mean, uh, Eric and I were…”
What were they? Estranged husband and wife, or so she’d thought, until she’d found out about Nancy.
“Lovers,” she ended lamely. That at least wasn’t in dispute. David was living proof of their intimacy. At least it had been intimacy for her. What it had meant to Eric, she could only guess. And none of the guesses were very flattering.
Anger bubbled up inside and made her face feel hot and swollen, as if her skin might split right open.
“Eric is…was…the father of my child.”
“And?”
“I came to talk to him about setting up some sort of agreement about David’s care. Child support.”
“Yeah, I heard about that little scene at the banquet. It’s all over town.”
The guy dragged over a gray metal chair and parked his big butt. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Eric wasn’t what we’d call the responsible kind. What’d he do, laugh in your face? I could see where that might make a woman mad enough to grab a carving knife—”
“I didn’t grab a knife. I didn’t stab him. He was dead when I got there.”
“We’ll see what the medical examiner says about that. They can determine right down to the minute when a person died, you know. So there’s no use lying.”
“I’m not lying,” she said through clenched teeth. But he was. She knew damn well how many variables there were in determining time of death. There wasn’t a decent doctor or coroner alive who would claim to be one-hundred-percent sure. A window of several hours was more likely and that didn’t help her a bit.
“Look, lady, you breeze into town and all of a sudden Eric McGuire is murdered. My guess is you didn’t know he was married. You got all worked up about it and went out to the track. Eric always was a sweet talker with the ladies. But this time he couldn’t worm his way out of it.”
“That’s not true! I never even talked to him. He was dead when I got there.”
The scrawny deputy slipped into the room, his face beet red.
“Uh, there’s some guy out front. Says he’s—”
“Her lawyer.” A tall, silver-haired man pushed his way into the room. He extended a tanned, well-manicured hand to her.
She shook his hand, bewildered. She’d never seen him before in her life. And judging from the cut of his gray summer-weight suit, he looked expensive.
The man handed a business card to the big deputy and motioned for her to follow him.
“We’ll discuss the details later, darlin’. First, we get you out of this hellhole.”
“But—”
“No buts. Your child is right outside waiting for you.”
That was all the encouragement she needed. She followed the authoritative suit out the door without giving the deputies a second glance. For David, she would follow a stranger through the fires of hell.
It shouldn’t have surprised her that the devil himself stood on the other side of the door, holding her baby.
“J.D.”
He nodded in response. “We’re getting you out of here.” Turning to the men in uniform, J.D. said, “Deputy, any more questions should be routed through Maggie’s attorney.”
Her head whirled with unanswered questions. But the most important one had already been answered. David was here, safe and sound, if not totally content.
She held out her arms to him and he broke out in a big, nearly toothless grin. He leaned away from his captor, leaving no doubt where he’d rather be.
J.D. handed David to her and folded his arms over his chest, watching their reunion.
Maggie didn’t care who watched. She hugged and cuddled and kissed the soft little boy until he squirmed in protest.
“You done yet?”
J.D.’s voice was harsh, impatient, but his eyes were just a little too understanding.
She nodded.
“She’ll be staying at my house, Belmont, if you need to talk to her.” J.D. shook hands with the attorney. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
The distinguished gentleman winked. “It’ll cost you, J.D. You know that gazebo my wife’s been talking about…”
“Yeah, I know.” J.D. winced. “You name the day, I’ll be there for measurements.”
He shook hands with the attorney, then took her elbow to escort her out of the county jail. As if she needed any encouragement. Intent on putting distance between David and the uniforms, she broke into a jog.
But once outside, her steps faltered.
“Your house? But, the hotel—”
“The hotel isn’t an option. Anything you need there?”
“All our stuff is in the car.”
J.D. hesitated, “There’s someone who insists on meeting you. It’s against my better judgment, but…”
CHAPTER FOUR
MAGGIE DIDN’T BOTHER to protest when J.D. asked for her car keys. Her knees shook and her hands were unsteady as she buckled David into his car seat.
J.D. steered her little Toyota out of the parking lot, adjusting easily to the loose clutch and intermittent hiccup on acceleration. Soon, they left the downtown area and houses were fewer and farther between.
Fighting nausea, Maggie closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. She had no doubt that J.D.’s attorney had saved her from an overnight stay in jail, if not longer. The attorney had also made sure they immediately returned her child.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
When she didn’t hear a polite response, Maggie opened her eyes and glanced at J.D.
His profile was rigid, his jaw set. “Belmont owed me a favor.”
“And now you owe his wife a gazebo. I’ll find a way to pay you back.”
He nodded.
“Really. I will.”
“Look, I didn’t do it for you.”
“Then who did you do it for?” She doubted he’d considered David. He didn’t seem eager to take on the role of uncle.
“It’s…complicated. But the last thing any of us need right now is you jailed and the little guy in foster care.”
“I won’t let them take David.”
J.D. glanced in her direction. “I hope you’re not thinking about doing something stupid. Like running.”
That was exactly what she’d been thinking. Grabbing up David and driving off somewhere, anywhere but here.
“Because that will only make things worse. We were damn lucky they released you today. And that was partly because I vouched for you.”
