Chapter Sixteen

Deacon eased to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes. The little munchkin had fallen asleep on his shoulder and Deacon hadn’t wanted to disturb him.

Opening his blurry eyes, he caught sight of Leah standing there, mouth open, mute.

He blinked at her. “When did you get home?”

“Just now.” Leah jumped into action, taking a couple of steps toward Deacon.

“What happened?” he immediately asked.

“Riley’s safe. Let me get this guy to bed and I’ll fill you in.” Leah gently peeled the child off Deacon and then disappeared down the hall.

Deacon figured this was a good time for coffee. He pushed off the couch and moved into the kitchen. The layout was familiar and he was getting to know where she kept all the supplies. It only took a couple of minutes for the machine to spit out the welcomed brown liquid. The smell alone started waking Deacon. He poured two mugs and set Leah’s on the counter before checking his phone. A text from Leah an hour ago let him know that Riley had been found. She was safe.

After a couple of sips and a much-needed caffeine boost, Deacon set the mug on the counter and then stretched out sore arms. He dropped to the floor and fired off a dozen push-ups to get his blood circulating. Reclaiming his coffee, he was halfway through that first cup when Leah emerged.

“Thank you for staying with him.” An odd mix of emotions played across her soft features.

Deacon handed her a steaming mug of fresh brew. “I’m just relieved your sitter was found safe.”

Leah’s eyes gave away her relief. “Me, too. I don’t normally go there with the fear thing but I was almost out of my head with worry.”

She would have blamed herself like she did with her best friend.

“What did Dougherty say about the case?” he asked.

“I haven’t heard from him directly,” she admitted. “But he put out word that it’s even more important to find Elijah Henry...”

Deacon picked up on her hesitation almost instantly. “You don’t believe that.”

“No. I don’t. I mean, a serial killer who starts on the trail and then moves on to the suburbs? It’s not likely.” She white-knuckled her mug before blowing on the contents and then taking a sip. “Even if Elijah killed the other women, why would he be lurking in some random alley?”

“The women on the trail fit your description,” Deacon pointed out.

She nodded.

“Wonder what Dougherty makes of that,” Deacon said.

“I don’t know what he’s thinking. Honestly, he’s been off for a while now.” She took a slow sip of her coffee. “Chopping off a foot only complicates the matter. I mean, why do it?”

“It seems to me that someone wants everyone to believe these cases are tied to ours in Jacobstown. There’ve been news reports but many details have been kept out. The connection doesn’t work for me.”

“It’ll be interesting to see what Dougherty puts in his report.” Leah blew out what sounded like a frustrated breath.

Deacon walked over to her and touched her arm. “How’s Riley? I don’t just mean physically.”

“She’ll be okay.” Leah shrugged off his concern.

He caught her stare. “You don’t have to blow things off with me. How is she really?”

“Scared. It was traumatic.” She blinked and slicked her tongue across her bottom lip, leaving a silky trail. “It might not be the same thing or to the same scale but I know what she’ll go through, especially if she believes she’s the only one who survived this guy.”

“Even more reason to find the truth.” Deacon’s list of people he wanted to talk to was growing. Dougherty was off-limits. Talking to him would only get Leah in more trouble with the chief. He didn’t need to add to her troubles. “Where does Elijah stand in all this to you?”

“Still a suspect. Although, he’s moved to the bottom of the list. I’m guessing Dougherty will move him up the list again after this.” She issued a sigh. “You know how people get locked on to an idea and then they can’t see anything else?”

“Happens all the time,” he said.

“Even to us, right?” She glanced up at him.

“Yeah. Sure. Why?”

“I think Dougherty’s lost his objectivity. I mean, he’s locked on to Elijah being guilty and he won’t see past it. He could be like that before with cases, I’d noticed. Don’t get me wrong, he used to be a great detective,” she quickly added.

“And now?”

She shrugged. “You saw him earlier. We’ve all been covering for him. He makes mistakes. We all try to catch them. There’s no way any of us would allow an innocent person to go to jail. Probably the person closest to Charles is Keeve.” She glanced up with an apologetic look when she must’ve realized he had no clue who that was. “Detective McKeever. You met him at the diner. We all call him Keeve for short.”

Deacon had a few words for that guy the next time he saw him because he was certain Keeve was the one who’d notified Dougherty that Deacon and Leah had walked in. “I remember.”

“I should circle back and ask him what Dougherty thinks is going on.” She took another sip of coffee and Deacon had to fight the urge to kiss the drop of brown liquid on her bottom lip.

“You didn’t see Dougherty tonight, right?” he asked.

“No. Not personally. Not since the trail.”

“He wasn’t on the radio?” he pressed.

“I heard him at one point. Everything happened so fast I guess I wasn’t thinking about it. Why?” Her forehead creased. “What are you trying to say?”

Deacon paced a couple of rounds in the kitchen. Logic said an officer of the law would never consider doing what Deacon was about to accuse Dougherty of. Deacon stopped and stared at her. “He’s fixated on you.”

She stood there for a long moment and he could almost see the wheels turning in the back of her mind. She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it down almost as quickly.

“Hear me out before you make up your mind one way or the other. Believe me, I don’t make this allegation lightly.” Deacon fully understood the sense of family that law enforcement officers shared. His cousin, Zach McWilliams, was the Broward County Sheriff after all. “He has it in for you. He’s been trying to get you in trouble ever since the breakup. His attitude toward you, toward women in general was off—”

“He would never try to hurt me if that’s what you’re saying,” she interjected.

“I don’t know what I’m saying just yet. He’s covering for something. He’s not thrilled with you. How far would he take that? I don’t know. Maybe there’s someone else involved, someone who has it out for you and Dougherty’s looking the other way.” Deacon was thinking out loud. He knew how absurd this would sound to an officer. Police work was all about being family. He also knew how rare it was for one of their own to turn because of the bonds created in the life-or-death situations faced by each of them on a daily basis. If an officer went bad, it was the worst kind of betrayal.

And the most dangerous, a little voice in the back of his head reminded. The person would be smart, and trained with a weapon and police tactics. Luckily, it happened so rarely that it almost wasn’t worth considering. Except everything had to be examined in this case and Elijah Henry didn’t strike Deacon as the murdering kind.

Leah seemed to let Deacon’s words percolate. And then she marched over to the table where she’d set her phone down and fired off a text.


LEAH STARED AT her phone, waiting for a response.

“Who are you reaching out to?” Deacon asked.

“Keeve. He’s been watching over Dougherty. He might know where Dougherty was tonight or what he’s thinking,” Leah said. Either way, she needed to come up with a new plan because there was no way she’d put Riley at risk again by asking her to sit with Connor and she was her only sitter. She picked up a napkin and shredded it, waiting for a response. Keeve was most likely asleep.

Her cell tones shocked her. She immediately picked up when she saw the caller’s name, Keeve.

“What’s going on?” she said into the phone.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing asking that question?” Keeve started in.

“I’m trying to find out where Dougherty was tonight. I’m creating a timeline of events so that I can—”

“This is not your case.” His tone was final. Was he kidding?

“When my babysitter is a target, everything about this is my business. First, my jogging trail and now my sitter. Come on, Keeve. No matter how much you’re on his side you can’t deny the coincidence,” she argued. From the corner of her eye, she could see Deacon tensing up as the conversation intensified.

“He was with me. Are you accusing me of being involved now?” Keeve’s anger was out of place.

“I’m trying to get to the truth. What’s up with you?” There were many other choice words she wanted to say to him but thought better of. Nothing said in anger ever turned out well. She’d learned that lesson with her parents. Shouting at them had never helped them understand what she’d been going through. In fact, it only made everything worse. The more anger poured into a situation the further the two sides divided, until building a bridge seemed impossible. That was pretty much her relationship with her parents in a nutshell.

Keeve issued a sharp sigh. “This case. It’s awful. I don’t like any of it. Dougherty was with me earlier. I dropped him off at his house not long after you texted me before to ask where he was.”

“Thanks for telling me, Keeve.” She couldn’t exactly rule Dougherty out or discount the possibility he could be responsible.

“He hasn’t been right lately. I’m not making excuses for the way he’s been treating you, Leah. You’re a damn fine detective. Let a little steam blow over before you parade another man in front of him, will ya?” Keeve crossed the line.

“I wasn’t parading anyone in front of him. The last time I checked, you called him to let him know where I was the other m—”

“I wouldn’t do that to you or him,” Keeve interrupted. He sounded sincere, which confused her. If Keeve hadn’t let Dougherty know about her at the diner, then who had?

Since going down that path wasn’t productive, she decided to steer the conversation back to the investigation.

“Keeve, does he still think Elijah Henry is responsible?” Why not go ahead and ask? She figured it couldn’t do any further damage.

“I believe so,” he said.

“Riley’s almost eighteen years old, Keeve,” she said. “And this is all a little too close to home.”

“Some of us have volunteered to run extra shifts. One of us will be patrolling your street at all times,” he stated.

“Why didn’t I hear about this?” she asked.

“We take care of our own, Leah. You know that.” It was true enough.

“Thank the guys for me if I miss anyone.” For the first time in years, she wasn’t sure it was safe to be home. She had Connor to consider and his safety meant everything to her.

“I will.” Keeve’s promise helped her feel better about her ties at work.

Leah ended the call and looked at Deacon. “You know why about eighty percent of murders involving women are solved?”

He shook his head.

“Because a woman is almost always killed by someone she’s intimate with—a husband or a boyfriend. Most of the time we arrest the man who kills a woman.” Leah fought the tears welling up. “There’s no connection between these women aside from size, height and similar looks.”

“Except that they are similar to you. Riley, who is also similar to you, got away.” Deacon crossed the kitchen again. “I can’t help but think attention’s going to the wrong place.”

Leah’s phone dinged with a text.

“A pair of witnesses just identified a picture of Elijah Henry as being seen near the trail on the night of the second murder.” Leah couldn’t believe it.

“Any chance you can get the names of the witnesses who’ve seen him so far?” Deacon asked.

Leah could get into serious trouble for checking into Dougherty’s case again. On balance, she had to know for herself. Besides, she needed to see if Dougherty was hiding something. She didn’t really believe—or maybe she just didn’t want to believe—that he could be capable of doing what had happened earlier. “Something’s bothering me.”

“About Elijah?”

“Dougherty. I mean, he knows the cases. If someone’s trying to wrap these murders up with the animal slayings, they’re cutting off the wrong foot. Dougherty wouldn’t make a mistake like that. He’s too good of a detective and I can’t believe that he would try to hurt me.” Maybe she was being naive. But her fellow detectives were like her family, and whether she and Dougherty were getting along or not, she couldn’t imagine that he would ever threaten her life.

“I don’t know.” Deacon stood there, looking at her, examining her. His gaze was...appreciating her?

Leah was still trying to shake the image of Deacon with her son from earlier. The picture kept replaying in her mind. Granted, she hadn’t brought home any men to meet her son that she’d dated. Did he somehow wish he had a father?

She needed to tell him and remind herself that Connor very much had a father. One whose memory she would make a point to keep alive for her son. There were pictures of Wyatt in Connor’s room. Leah wondered if she should put some in the living room. Until now, she hadn’t really thought of what her son might be missing out on.

Although, now wasn’t the time, either. Because it was looking more and more like if a killer had his way, Connor would be without both parents. Nothing in her could allow that to happen to her boy. Connor deserved to have a family, dammit.

Tears sprang to her eyes. They were unexpected and embarrassing, considering Deacon was still there. She hadn’t really cried since losing her husband. Leah couldn’t afford to let her emotions run wild. She couldn’t risk letting them get out of control. If it were just her, she could let them go berserk. It wasn’t. Connor needed a stable and strong mother. One who made it clear that he was loved unconditionally.

Deacon walked toward her and then thumbed away a hot tear streaking down her cheek. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t usually...” She blinked up at him.

“Cry?” Deacon cocked a half smile. “It’s one of the most natural things. Why should you apologize for that?”

With Deacon standing there in front of her, so close she could reach out and touch him, she felt safer than she had in her entire life. Was it dangerous to allow that feeling to envelop her? Maybe. Right now, in this moment, all that mattered was looking into his honest steel-gray eyes and seeking comfort in his arms.

“Should I apologize for doing this?” She pushed up to her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. At first, her lips barely pressed against his. Even so, she could smell the dark roast coffee on his breath. He brought his hands to rest on either side of her hips and his touch was tentative.

“Or how about this?” She nibbled his bottom lip as he raked in a breath.

“This is not the best idea right now.” His voice came out raspy and a trill of awareness shot through her at the fact that he seemed to want this, too.

“Is it wrong to do this?” She pressed her body flush with his and heard another rasp before she pressed her mouth more fully to his. This time, she slicked her tongue across his lips, enjoying the taste of coffee.

He groaned when she pulled back enough for cold air to take the place of warmth between them. He stared into her eyes like he was trying to read her mind.

“I want this, Deacon. Do you want me, too?”

“You’ve been through an ordeal tonight. You’re tired and I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and have regrets.” His voice was low, gravelly.

Was he worried about her having regrets or him?

“I know my own mind, Deacon. And I think you know yours. We aren’t the kinds of people who jump into something irrationally. What do you want?”

She stood there, daring him to tell her the truth.

“You want to know what I really want?” he asked.

“Yes.” Boldly, she held on to his gaze.

“I want to kiss you again. Hell, if I’m honest, I want to do a lot more than that but there’s a little munchkin in the next room who could wake up at any second. And once I start down that road with you, I don’t want to take a chance we could be interrupted.”