Deadly Purpose, page 9
“Brad told me you popped out these guys.” He bent down to lift the blanket draped over the stroller.
“‘Popped out’ makes it sound way too easy, especially since there were two. Mason was over seven pounds, and Keeley slightly under, and let me tell you, they didn’t just pop out.”
“Aah, okay.” Declan’s discomfort made Meg smile. “You doing good?”
“Still a bit sore down there.” She laughed when he winced. “I’ll spare you the details, but yes, I’m doing fine.”
Declan motioned Meg forward.
“Maddy, this is Meghan, a friend who’s visiting for a few days.”
The woman turned her attention to Meg. “Nice to meet you. These two in the stroller are Mason and Keeley.”
Meg bent forward to examine the tiny infants bundled against the cold, their cheeks and noses pink, both with eyes the dark blue of newborns. “Oh, they’re beautiful. When were they born?”
“Two and a half weeks ago. You’d think they were the first babies on the planet as much as their father dotes on them.”
“That’s sweet.”
The amazing aroma of cinnamon and coffee made Meg’s stomach growl. A door to the back swung open, and a shriek from behind the counter was followed by rapid footsteps. A woman with dark blonde hair, a white apron tied around her waist, skirted a display case and rushed forward. She gave Maddy a quick hug, then turned her attention to the babies.
“Oh, they’re both awake. Which one can I hold? Don’t make me beg.”
Maddy gently lifted the baby with the yellow bow on her fair head from her bed in the stroller and handed her to the woman, who was wiggling her fingers.
“Come here, my sweet little love nugget of joy,” she crooned. “Your cousin has missed you so much.”
“You and Diego were over last night and saw them both, Eva,” Maddy stated.
“Yes, and that was a long time ago, wasn’t it, darling?” She nuzzled the baby’s rosy cheek, then raised her head to smile in Declan’s direction.
“Hey, Dex, nice to see you decided to return to civilization.”
“Been busy.” He laid a hand on Meg’s shoulder. “This is Meghan.”
“Nice to meet you. If you don’t mind, I’m going to take this little girl to the back and show her off.”
She disappeared through the swinging door. Maddy turned to Meg, speculation dancing in her eyes. “Meghan, I’m glad you’re able to get Dex here out of his cave.”
Before Meg could reply, a tinkling bell sounded as the door opened to let in a lean man wearing a dark knit cap and several days’ growth of beard. While Meg saw him do a quick scan and was sure his glance took in every person in the restaurant, it zeroed in almost immediately on Maddy. He stepped forward, took her hands in his, and pulled her into a kiss that was steamy enough to melt all the snow clear to the surrounding counties.
Declan coughed loudly and made an exaggerated clearing-of-his-throat sound. The man loosened a hand to hold up his middle finger in Declan’s direction with his lips still locked on the woman who was busily kissing him back.
Meg couldn’t help but be fascinated by the interactions of the members of the group and the ease with which they included Declan. She’d pegged him as a loner, but it was obvious that despite that tendency, these people counted him as one of their own.
The man loosened his hold and Meg gave a startled gasp when Maddy pulled back a clenched fist like she would sucker punch him. He must have been expecting it because he caught her hand before she could let fly. “What the hell, Blondie?”
“Don’t you ever leave me again.”
“I was gone two days for training. That’s it.”
“Two long days. I missed you, and your children missed you.”
“I missed you more.”
“God, Ross, that’s sappy,” Declan muttered.
“Got a problem, Murphy?”
Declan ghosted a smile and shook his head. “You two should take it to the back. There are impressionable children present, as well as public decency laws to uphold.”
The man’s gaze slid from Declan to Meg as he ran his hand down Maddy’s arm and interlaced his fingers with hers. Then he bent over the stroller. “Hey, I’m missing a kid.”
“Eva has Keeley. Don’t pick him up.”
Too late. The man Declan called Ross had undone the straps and was lifting the baby from his seat. “He missed his dad. Didn’t you, little man?”
“You know he’ll want to be nursed now, don’t you?”
“Of course he does, how else is he going to grow?”
Maddy tipped her head to rest on the man’s shoulder. She angled a look up at him. “I thought you weren’t coming home until late this evening.”
He brought up her hand with his free one and kissed her knuckles. “I came back early to meet with the lawyers and give my deposition while they’re in town.”
“Whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re home. Logan,” Maddy continued, motioning to Meg. “This is Declan’s friend, Meghan.”
“I prefer Meg. It’s nice to meet you all.”
Declan addressed the group, “We came in to get coffee, then Meghan has an appointment and I’m heading over to the police station. I’m giving my statement to the lawyers, too.”
“I guess we’re all being deposed, then,” Maddy said. “I’m supposed to go this afternoon. I told them I couldn’t be there until after the lunch rush. Mom’s coming to pick up the twins and she’ll take care of them until I’m done with the lawyers. I’m glad they’re getting the process going. The sooner we can get the trial started and that sick bastard Horvath is on his way to prison, a better place the world will be.”
Logan kissed the top of Maddy’s head. “He’ll be behind bars for the rest of his life and never again be able to destroy lives.” He must have caught Meg’s confused expression because he moved to clap a hand on Declan’s shoulder. “Have this guy tell you about it.”
More customers came in and set the little bell over the door jingling. Two women with a half-dozen kids between them crowded around the display case. Eva returned Keeley to the stroller and took up her place behind the counter. The moms ordered a couple of giant cinnamon rolls that Eva cut into sections and placed on small plates. Once the small crowd had moved to the dining room, Meg ordered a toasted bagel and coffee.
Sipping her coffee, and with her bagel and cream cheese wrapped in a napkin, she said good-bye to the others and followed Declan out the door.
He walked with her around the corner and pointed to an older Queen-Anne-style home with a sign in the front yard that read “Nguyen and Ricketts, Attorneys at Law.” “That’s where you want to go. Your appointment is with Brenda Nguyen.”
“Okay.”
He sipped from his to-go cup, expression thoughtful as she munched on her bagel. “You going to be okay on your own for a couple of hours? If you want, I can give you the keys and get a ride to the police station with Logan. That way you can take the truck back to the cabin if you get bored.”
“I won’t get bored. I’ll be back here at the café in two hours, and I can hang out if it takes you longer. Don’t worry about me.”
He gave her a thoughtful look, then paused briefly before turning and walking to the 4Runner. As the vehicle roared up the street, Meg wondered at that hesitation. For a second there she was sure he’d had the impulse to give her a good-bye kiss but had thought better of it.
Chapter Nine
Meg finished her bagel and coffee, finding a waste can for her trash before walking to the attorney’s office. Less than an hour later, she walked out again. Brenda Nguyen was sharp, and had recommended against admitting to the police that she’d taken money or files from Julius, and even when Meg insisted that she would tell Bradley Gallagher everything that had happened, had still agreed to represent her.
Meg determinedly set aside the worry to enjoy the remainder of her day. She returned to Main Street and set off down the wooden boardwalk under the deep shingled eaves that protected it from the snow, features that accentuated the western feel of the town. Stores had signs hanging from wrought-iron brackets, and red and gold chrysanthemums in large pots added autumn-toned splashes of color. She wondered if shopkeepers dragged the planters in at night or if the fall flowers were hearty enough to survive the cold nighttime temperatures.
She passed an outdoor gear store that boasted a display window filled with the latest hiking and ski equipment. A little farther down she came across a window presenting beautifully woven blankets in hues that reminded her of the local landscape. The hanging sign read “Sisters’ Homegrown Treasures” over a design of three interwoven hearts.
Meg stepped inside to find attractive displays featuring local honeys, jams, jellies, and preserves. There was pottery in Southwestern motifs, and burnished silver and polished stone jewelry that the card on the counter explained were made from materials found in the nearby mountains.
“Hello, dear. Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“No, I—”
She broke off when she looked up to find three older women wearing matching turtlenecks of saffron yellow, hair tinted the same exact shade of currant red, and identical expressions of polite inquiry.
“Ah, no, thank you. I’m not buying today. Is it okay to look?” At their synchronized nods, she added, “You ladies make quite an impact.”
“We always have. We’re triplets, you know,” one of the trio said, beaming a smile full of delight. “Though as the firstborn, I’m the eldest.”
“That’s amazing. You and your sisters have a beautiful store.”
The oldest sister seemed to be the spokeswoman. “Thank you. We’re pleased you’ve dropped in. Feel free to wander, and let us know if you need any assistance,” she offered.
Meg took her time, enjoying the freedom of having nowhere to be. The triplets had put together an eclectic collection of goods made entirely by craftspeople who lived in the area. She particularly liked a painting of Hangman Lake that caught perfectly the moment at dawn when the sky shimmered between darkness and light, the silhouette of a lone fisherman casting his rod providing a focal point.
She flipped over the tag. A bit pricey, but not impossible. It would look nice in the cabin hanging next to the fireplace. Her thoughts crashed to a halt. She couldn’t buy the painting, and she wouldn’t be living in the cabin for a long time. She wasn’t sure, but had a feeling hanging art in one’s jail cell wasn’t the done thing.
Determined not to let the knowledge of where her future lay dim the shine on her day, she waved good-bye to the color-coordinated triplets and returned to the boardwalk. A man in dark aviator glasses sat on a wooden bench, phone pressed to his ear. Hard to tell with the mirrored lenses, but the sensation that he was watching her as she window-shopped gave her an itch between the shoulder blades. She stopped in front of an antiques store and looked back over her shoulder. The man had disappeared.
Hangman’s Loss was small, and it took no more than an hour to browse the shops from one end of Main Street to the other. While the temperature was in the chilly range, if she kept moving she was warm enough. Leaving the covered boardwalk, she followed signs to climb a hill to the rusty gate of the cemetery. Someone, a caretaker perhaps, had already cleared the paths. Strolling among tombstones aged by time, she wiped snow from some of them, intrigued to discover several that gave snippets of the history of the small town of Hangman’s Loss.
The epitaph on one marker from the late 1890s stated that the dearly departed woman had died three days after delivering a stillborn child. Meg wondered if a broken heart had hastened her death.
Then there was the marble gravestone for a young man of twenty-two who had been mortally injured from an explosion in a mine, and another only a year older who had died after being stabbed in a barroom brawl. It seemed that Hangman’s Loss had its own Wild West history.
She moved on, reading the epitaphs as she strolled the grounds. The saddest were the tiny markers for infants, some not even named, who had died in the days when being born into the world was a risky business.
Despite the heartache reflected in the dedications to “most loved father” and the “now sleeping angel,” walking through the rows of graves brought a kind of peace. It was comforting to know that the people of the town still cared about their ancestors enough to pay for the upkeep and maintenance of the cemetery.
A more contemporary pink granite marker caught her attention. Meg read the inscription that had her heart swelling in her throat. “Lily Patricia Ross, much loved daughter of Madison and Logan.” The birth and death dates were far, far too close together. The couple she’d met earlier had lost a baby girl some ten years before. She wondered if Declan knew their story.
From the cemetery she made her way toward the lake. A park encircled the northern tip, a sign proclaiming it Founder’s Park. The itch was back, and she scanned back the way she had come, but didn’t see anyone. She brushed the snow away from a plaque on a stone monument, then returned her freezing fingers to her pocket.
The plaque told the story of a man accused of a crime he hadn’t committed, who had escaped a noose hung by a posse from a tree that still grew in the park, thus providing the name for the lake and the town of Hangman’s Loss. In all the times she’d visited her father at the cabin, she hadn’t learned as much about the town’s history as she had in the past hour.
A creek tumbled from the lake, and Meg followed a path along its course that led back into town. She had turned onto a road she thought would take her to Main Street when the phone in her jacket pocket vibrated. The number was unassigned. She answered, not liking the hesitation in her voice. “Hello?”
“It’s me.” Declan’s low tone sounded in her ear and made her heart trip. Damn, she was in trouble.
“The lawyers deposed me first, so I’m done. Where are you?”
Meg looked around but didn’t see a street sign. “I’m not sure, but I think only a block or two from Main Street. I’ll be back at the café in a few minutes.”
“Do you want me to find you and pick you up?”
“No, I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay, I need to have a quick word with Brad, then I’ll be on my way.”
Meg trudged up the road and made the turn onto Main Street. She passed a pizzeria, pausing to look at the menu taped to the inside of the window. A movement in the glass caught her eye. The window reflected the street behind her, and on the opposite boardwalk stood the man with the aviator glasses she’d noticed before. With his glasses pushed to the top of his head, he held his phone in front of him, and it looked like he was taking pictures. Of her. She whipped around, and the man turned and busily began tapping like he was sending a text.
“Hey,” she called out.
Aviator Guy shoved the phone in his pocket and began striding quickly up a side street.
She stepped off the boardwalk, intent on following him, and the blare of a car horn had her jumping back, mouthing “sorry” to the alarmed driver. When she looked for him again, the man had vanished.
Not sure whether she was making something of nothing, Meg walked the block to the café. Seeing the man twice on her walk didn’t mean he was following her. He could be a tourist who like her was checking out the town. But tourists didn’t usually travel alone. And what about him taking pictures? Maybe he liked the western motif and was taking pictures of the buildings, and she happened to be in the shot.
Perhaps, but she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.
Pushing back on the niggling worry, she looked for the 4Runner among the vehicles parked on the street. Not seeing it, she figured Declan hadn’t arrived yet. She stepped into the warmth and delicious smells of the café. The phone vibrated again, and she frowned at the screen. Caller id indicated the incoming call was from “Cassandra.” A girlfriend? Family member? What if it was an emergency? After a brief internal debate, she tapped on the screen.
“Hello?”
A long pause, then, “Oh, hi. I had to check to make sure I hadn’t called the wrong number, but this is Declan’s phone. Who is this?”
“I’m Meghan, a friend of his.” She figured using Meghan was wiser than introducing herself as Meg, given the ex-wife business. And saying she was a friend was kind of true. “I’m sorry to answer, but he loaned me his phone.”
“Really.” She drew the word out into three long, suggestive syllables that had Meg cringing.
“Ah, it’s not like you seem to be thinking.” At least she didn’t think so, though there had been that kiss. That really exceptionally hot kiss.
“It’s not like Dex to give his phone to anybody. Are you close friends?”
“No, not really.” She hoped to god Cassandra wasn’t a girlfriend. Pressing on with the awkward conversation, she asked, “Can I take a message?”
The door gave a jingle and Declan walked into the café.
“Hold on, he’s right here.” She all but shoved the phone in his hand. “Sorry, but I thought it could be important. It’s a woman named Cassandra. I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.”
Eyes on hers, he put the phone to his ear. “Cass, what’s up?” He listened intently, then said, “No, no, and no. That clear enough?” Then a minute later, he said, “I’m hanging up now,” and did.
“I’m so sorry. Was that your girlfriend? I don’t want to mess things up for you.”
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I had a girlfriend. Cassandra’s my sister. My nosy sister.”
“Oh.” His statement did nothing to settle her rapidly beating heart. “You hung up on her.”
“Give her a few hours and she’ll call back, she always does. Let’s order, I’m starving.”
They turned to the counter to find Maddy watching them with avid interest. “Hey, you two,” she said brightly. “I didn’t really mean to listen, but you were right here, and I won’t ask, because that would be rude, but if one of you volunteered to tell me whether you’re together, you’ll be saving me from dying of curiosity.”
