Chapter 23

“You have the right to remain silent,” the officer intoned as she slapped cuffs on Butch. She was a petite, trim-waisted woman with platinum blonde hair and green eyes. Butch could have crushed her beneath his thumb. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in court. You have the right to an attorney…”

I turned my back on Butch, whose dark gaze followed my every move, silent and seething, and picked my way across the pockmarked yard to where Emily and Sarah stood with the other officer. He was a tall, muscular guy with a bit of a beer belly and a five o’clock shadow. He balanced a clipboard on one hand as he spoke to my friends.

“Your husband will be arraigned tomorrow morning,” he was saying as I walked up. “The judge will decide whether to release him on bail or not, though with the fact he has violated the protection order you currently hold against him, it’s unlikely the judge will grant him bail.”

“That’s good to know,” Emily said quietly. She was trying hard not to glance in Butch’s direction. The pretty female officer had a single hand on his head as she guided him into the backseat of her cruiser.

The officer went on. “I’ve got your name and contact information, but I need to know if you would be willing to testify against your husband.”

Emily nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Both of us would, as well,” Sarah said, answering for me, too.

The officer nodded. “Lovely. Mrs. Allen, do you have somewhere to stay? Or will you be remaining here?”

Emily shook her head roughly. “No. I won’t be back. Ever.”

“If you want a copy of the report, here’s my card.” He extracted a business card from beneath the clip and held it out. “If you think of anything else you’d like on record, please don’t hesitate to call.”

There was no way I was taking pressure off the wrist of my hurt hand. I made eyes at Sarah, and she reached to take it from him with a courteous, “Thank you.”

“Ma’am, are you sure I can’t talk you into an ambulance?” the young officer asked, eyeing me. “I would strongly advise you to get that hand examined.”

“I’m fine, Officer. But thank you.” I smiled, hoping it wasn’t too much like a grimace.

We stood quietly and watched as he joined his partner in the front seat of the cruiser, and moments later, they were gone.

I looked at Emily. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Are you?”

I held my arm tight to my body. I was pretty sure I’d broken bones. “I’m okay.”

Against Sarah’s judgment, I took her and Emily home, promising I would obtain my car and get my hand looked at. I needed to know they were safe before I could let myself process what had just happened and take care of myself.

I left the two of them comfy at the Koenig household, then trudged through the woods, holding my arm tightly against my chest in an upward position, trying to keep the throbbing to a minimum. It wasn’t quite noon, and it was hot, almost unbearable. My feet were sluggish against the dirt.

I couldn’t believe I’d punched Butch.

Did I have a death wish? The man outweighed me by a million pounds. If he’d had a chance to hit me back before the officers showed up, he’d have knocked me unconscious. If not worse. I was out of my freaking mind.

I shoved open the bottom half of the back door. J.J. met me on the other side, his tail turning circles on his hind end. I leaned over, my hand getting a rush of blood and pain, and kissed his coarse head. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey back, sweetums.” Tierney pushed through the doorway, holding it open as he leaned against the frame.

“I thought you were working until six?” I asked, dropping my purse on the kitchen table.

“The dishwasher flooded the kitchen, so Rita closed up.”

I chuckled. “The old guys who hang out there in the afternoon are gonna be livid to find the place locked.”

“For sure.” Tierney’s gaze dropped to my hand, and the twinkle disappeared from his eyes as he reached for me. “Mena, what’s wrong?”

I jerked away, scared that if he touched me, I’d jump him like a sex-starved teen despite the razor-sharp pain in my knuckles. “It’s fine.”

I went to the sink. As I stuck my battered hand beneath the cold running water, I winced.

“What happened?” Tierney asked quietly, coming up behind me. He encircled my waist with his arms, hugging me.

I shrugged. “I got pissed.”

“About what exactly?”

I let him clasp my wrist as he reached for the soap. I closed my eyes, enjoying the solidity of his chest pressed against my back.

“Butch showed up at Emily’s while we were there to get her things.”

Tierney cursed, his soapy fingers tracing the cracked skin of my knuckles. “Did he hit you?”

I let out a Meep! like Roadrunner when he hit a tender spot over the big knuckle beneath my middle finger. “No. I hit him.”

The Irishman’s deep chuckle rumbled through me. He was close, his arms wrapped around me as he washed my wounds. I sagged against him, not even caring if it was overstepping bounds as a needy girl or if my mother would disapprove. If Tierney wanted to take care of me, I wanted to let him.

“You’re a spitfire, Mena McGinty.” He said the words right into my ear as he turned off the water. I felt his absence greatly when he stepped away to pull a clean dishtowel from the drawer. He faced me and gently dried my hands.

“I get it from my momma.”

He was tender, his long fingers probing the bones of my knuckles. I winced as he touched the worst of my injuries.

“Meens, if he laid a finger on you, I want to know.”

“He didn’t. But I think that bone is broken.”

Tierney gave me a look. “Then why aren’t you at hospital?”

Before I could answer, my cell phone rang in my back pocket. Tierney reached around me again, this time bringing us chest to chest as he slid my phone from my shorts.

My heart was racing when I took it from him. My reaction to him stilled as I saw the caller ID. I groaned. “It’s my cousin.”

“Make it quick. I’m taking you to hospital.” He shoved away from the counter and left the kitchen.

I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear. “Hello.”

“Mena. It’s Sage.”

“I have caller ID, dodo. This makes three calls this week. Should I be worried?”

“I found something.” Her deep voice was pissed.

“What?”

“A bill.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sage, that’s a fact of life. I realize you’ve never paid a bill. Give it to Kevin.”

“That’s the thing,” she hissed. “It’s from a collections agency!”

That threw me off. I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder, and steadied myself on the counter with my good hand as a rush of pain made me lightheaded. “Why on earth would you guys have a bill in collections?”

“My question exactly. My husband is worth one-point-three million dollars, Mena. This bill is for, I kid you not, only two-hundred-fifty dollars. And it’s nine months past due.”

“Maybe it just got overlooked? I’m sure it can happen. You guys own a lot of property.”

Sage was quiet for a moment before she finally said, “That must be it.”

“Have you told Lakens? What does she think?”

“Lakens just left to go to some third-world country to feed the poor.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I said, laughing. “Though I am concerned that she’s doing so pregnant. That can’t be safe.”

“I don’t know about ‘safe,’ but she can’t wear Dolce and traipse about a dirty place like that.”

My family tree had some crooked damn branches. I rolled my eyes and closed them. “You are wrong on so many levels.”

“Oh, hey, I forgot — I’m so sorry about your friend.”

“My friend?” I asked, confused. How did she know about Emily’s situation? But her next statement took the breath from my lungs.

“Didn’t you just lose a friend?”

I stilled, gazing at my good hand. “Sage, I haven’t lost a friend.”

“Oh. Really? I coulda sworn…”

“I have to go to,” I told her.

“Okay, hon, talk soon.”

I hung up, her words ringing in my ears. Lost a friend. I remembered our last conversation, when she’d asked about my houseguest. And then I’d offered my couch to Tierney.

I tucked my phone back in my pocket, trying not to over-think things. My cousin was not psychic.

There was no such thing.

Right?

Please, Goddess, let this not come to pass.