Interrupted Lullaby Page 2

  The cop glared at the man sitting on the floor. “You can stop that right now. I’m gonna read you your rights, and then you’re going for a ride to jail. So you can sit and think about the error of your ways.”

  Maggie was shocked when her would-be killer obeyed, although his eyes continued to shoot pure venom at Maggie and her rescuer.

  What was the cop’s name again? Williams?

  “Detective Williams,” she began but stopped when he shook his head.

  “Willis, ma’am. Lieutenant Willis.” He moved his right arm but suddenly sucked in a breath and winced. He lifted his elbow away from his body, angling his head so he could look at his side. His leather jacket gaped open. That’s when she noticed the blood seeping from a wound on his right side.

  “You’re hurt! Did he stab you?” Her eyes flicked from the offending knife back to his side. The stain was spreading across his T-shirt. An ugly chuckle sounded from the attacker. Both Maggie and Lieutenant Willis ignored the man. It was difficult to see the extent of the injury because of the leather jacket he wore. “I didn’t hear you call for an ambulance.”

  A fleeting expression crossed his face—annoyance, embarrassment?—before it once again smoothed out.

  “I’ll take care of it, ma’am. No need for you to worry about it.”

  The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he swayed. Maggie leaped forward, grabbed his left arm and hauled him over to a chair. Relying on her first-aid training, she grabbed a towel from the basket of clean laundry on the kitchen table. She used the towel to apply firm pressure to the wound.

  “Hold this,” she ordered him.

  “I’m fine,” he grumbled, his voice gruff. “Just tired.”

  “We still need to stop the bleeding. Hold it.”

  As soon as he was holding it in place, she picked up the cordless phone from the counter to call 911. A baby’s wail cut across the silence before she could dial.

  “Here.” Lieutenant Willis held out his left hand, keeping his right pressed firmly against the towel. “I will call. You take care of the baby.”

  Maggie narrowed her eyes at him. Could she trust him enough to turn her back on him while she tended to her babies? A second loud bellow decided for her. Her daughter had no volume control. Maggie knew from experience that the baby girl would only get louder until her needs were met. Nodding, she thrust the phone into his outstretched hand and hurried across the room to the stroller, where the babies still sat. Rory was still asleep, his head slumped against one side of the stroller. Siobhan was a different story. She continued wailing until Maggie picked her up. Then she was all smiles as one chubby hand tangled itself in Maggie’s curls and the other waved in the air while she babbled. Maggie went to the refrigerator and prepared a sippy cup of milk under the malevolent stare of the attacker.

  Someone knocked on the back door. Maggie shrieked and dropped the cup, clasping her daughter protectively against her. Cold milk sloshed on her faded jeans. The child squawked in protest.

  “Police,” a voice called out.

  “In here,” Lieutenant Willis responded.

  A pair of uniformed policemen stepped into the room. One of them glanced over at Maggie, still holding her squirming, fussing daughter, milk dripping on the floor.

  “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Not sure she would be able to speak, Maggie nodded and bent down to retrieve the cup. Keeping a wary eye on the visitors in her small kitchen, she poured her daughter another cup and handed it to her. Knowing Siobhan would be occupied for a few minutes, she set her daughter down on the rug behind her. Happy, the child slurped her milk while Maggie used the towel hanging on the refrigerator door to clean up the mess.

  “You guys got here quick,” Lieutenant Willis noted, a wry twist to his lips. “I only called five minutes ago.”

  “Yes, sir. We were on our way back from another call a mile from here.”

  The lieutenant nodded once. “Very good, gentlemen. You can take this guy off my hands.” He jerked his head toward the sneering man sitting on the floor.

  The officers hefted the handcuffed man to his feet and led him toward the door.

  “You okay, Lieutenant? Need us to call the paramedics?”

  Dan waved a dismissive hand at them. “Done. I think the bleeding’s stopped, anyway.”

  “Read him his rights yet?”

  “Yep. He’s all yours. Get him a nice, cozy cell.”

  The man jeered at them. “You guys think you’re so tough.” He shot a snide glance at Maggie. “And you—don’t think this is the end. He knows where you live now. And even if you move...it’ll be easy to track you down with them.” He motioned with his head toward the little girl, who had abandoned her cup and was crawling away. Maggie grabbed the child, ignoring her squawk of protest. Her stomach curdled, ached, and her mouth grew dry.

  The officers nudged the man toward the door. “Dude, you have the right to remain silent. I’d seriously consider doing that.”

  Lieutenant Willis stood abruptly. He put a hand on the lead officer’s shoulder, halting him so he could stare down the attacker.

  Maggie shivered. Wow, his gray eyes were so cold. And hard. With his longer-than-regulation-length blond hair and leather jacket, he looked carefree. But she had seen him in action. This was not a man to be messed with. Not to mention the fact that he had to be at least six feet tall. Six feet of muscle.

  “Who is after her?” Even though his voice was soft, Maggie could clearly hear it across the room.

  The man raised his chin defiantly. “I got my rights. I want a lawyer. And a phone call.”

  Lieutenant Willis’s expression melted into a scowl. He jerked his head toward the door. “Get him outta here.”

  The officers dragged the man from the house. Lieutenant Willis sat heavily, a sigh escaping as he stared at Maggie. He was gearing up to ask questions. Lots of questions. She could almost imagine his thoughts aligning themselves in his head. Her spine straightened. Just because she didn’t have a choice about talking to him didn’t mean she had to like it. But he had saved her—and her babies. She had no doubt her attacker would have hurt them, too, to try to get answers out of her. The lieutenant’s rescue had to mean something. She would cooperate. But still, she’d better keep up her guard.

  The arrival of the paramedics forestalled the interrogation. The stoic lieutenant made a big show of tossing the bloody towel over his shoulder to allow the men to examine him. The bleeding had stopped. It was soon clear that he hadn’t been stabbed as much as sliced, the blade grazing his skin in a shallow cut. He wouldn’t even require stitches. Although he wasn’t badly hurt, she could see fatigue settling deep in the lines on his face.

  Too soon for her comfort, the paramedics had packed up their things and departed. Now it was just her and the lieutenant. Here come the questions, she thought, resigned. But she was surprised.

  “See-ob-han?” the man queried, head tilted while he peered at the blanket she had tucked around her daughter, now sleeping peacefully against her shoulder. Maggie glanced down. It was the blanket Wendy had given her right before she’d left. Maggie had been so touched when the woman had made one for each twin, their names embroidered on the front.

  “It’s pronounced She-vonne,” she corrected him. “It’s Irish.”

  “Ah, that’s right. Your mother is from Ireland.”

  Maggie shrugged, not prepared to discuss her mother with this stranger. Even if he had saved her life.

  “Are you taking it easy on the job, Willis?”

  Lieutenant Willis snapped to attention as a petite officer entered the room. Her short graying mop of hair was slightly wavy and curled under at the ends. She carried herself with authority. Maggie could almost feel the energy crackling from her as she walked.

  Maggie edg
ed over to the stroller and set her sleeping daughter inside it, never taking her eyes off the new arrival.

  “No, ma’am. Just starting to ask Maggie here why someone would come after her with a knife.”

  “That’s a good question, Lieutenant.” The woman’s brown eyes zeroed in on Maggie. They were eyes used to smiling, surrounded by laugh lines. But right now they were stern. “I’m Chief Martha Garraway from the local precinct. I’m very interested in your answer, Ms. Slade. We’ve looked for you a long time. Used valuable resources to find you. It’s apparent someone else was looking, too. Any idea who?”

  Maggie drew in a fortifying breath. She was in deep. If it had been only herself, she would have run for it. But she had to think of her children. They needed to be protected.

  “I know exactly who it was. It was the man who killed my husband.”

  TWO

  “Your husband!” Lieutenant Willis blurted.

  Maggie swiveled her head from Lieutenant Willis to Chief Garraway, her brow furrowed. Her lips pressed together as she studied the thunderstruck expressions on their faces. Well, they apparently hadn’t expected that to come out of her mouth.

  “How could you not know that I was married if you have been searching for me?” Maggie planted her fists firmly on her hips, shaking her head at them. Seriously? “Wasn’t that why you wanted to find me, because I disappeared after my husband was murdered?”

  Lieutenant Willis scowled, his gray eyes narrowed. But he made no answer.

  “Okay, Ms. Slade... Is it Ms. Slade?” Chief Garraway’s smooth voice was the epitome of politeness. Her stiff posture and frosty gaze, however, flashed a clear warning that she wasn’t pleased. This was not a woman who enjoyed looking foolish.

  Still, Maggie hesitated. She had developed a strong distrust of cops since Phillip’s murder. Her mind screamed at her to be careful. Don’t give too much away. Then she shot a glance at Lieutenant Willis. Her eyes caught on the bloody towel still draped across his shoulder and her heart clenched. He had taken that knife wound for her. Would he have put himself in harm’s way to protect her if he were on her enemy’s side? Her glance flicked back to the towel, then to his wounded side. Although the wound was hidden, she could see that he was holding himself stiffly. She recalled that he had refused to be medicated, despite being in pain. He’d told the paramedics that he needed to stay alert, to stand guard over her and her children. That decided it for her. She would trust them...to a point. She wouldn’t reveal everything. Not until she knew for sure she could trust them.

  “I kept my maiden name, so yes, my last name is still Slade.” Let them think what they wanted about that.

  Chief Garraway nodded. “Okay. Ms. Slade, we have gone over your history with a fine-tooth comb. There is no evidence that you were recently married. Or that you have ever been married.”

  Maggie threw her hands in the air. She whirled and paced to the window. Still cautious, she remained to the side of the curtained panes and glanced beneath the blinds. When she was calm enough to speak, she pivoted and fused her gaze with the chief’s. “We married in Las Vegas, on a whim. We filed for a license and then went to a chapel. There’s no waiting in Vegas.”

  “Las Vegas? You mean like Elvis? Why would you do that?” Her hackles rose at the poorly disguised scorn in Lieutenant Willis’s voice.

  “Yes, Las Vegas. What’s wrong with that?” Maggie tossed her head. How dare that man judge her? “Lots of people get married there. It’s completely legal.”

  She wanted to wince at the petulance she heard in her own voice. She should stop talking. She didn’t need to explain her actions to him. But for some reason his scorn really got to her.

  “I don’t care about why you got married in Las Vegas,” the chief asserted, throwing a silencing glare at her lieutenant. “You could have gone to the moon for all I care. But there should have been some trace of a marriage license in your records. And I’m also concerned that you are claiming to have witnessed a murder, yet you never came forward. I need to understand why. It’s obvious you’re in danger. Were you somehow involved in whatever happened to your husband? Is that why someone is after you now, why you were in hiding?”

  Was she a suspect? Maggie’s eyes widened, and her breath hitched in alarm. Never once had she dreamed that she could be facing charges. She found it ironic that after being a juror who had convicted a woman six years ago for murder, she could face jail time for a similar crime. She shuddered.

  “I haven’t done anything wrong! I was running for my life!”

  “Relax. We’re just trying to figure this out. You have to admit, your actions are suspicious.”

  Maggie whirled to face the tall lieutenant, who was even now observing her, his eyes narrowed. His mouth was a hard line slashed across his handsome face. “I had nothing to do with his murder...” She stopped. What if it had been her fault? She had wondered that often during the past eighteen months.

  “Something tells me you’re not sure of that.”

  Maggie stared at him, a wave of helplessness pounding into her. Rory dropped his pacifier and startled, whimpering as he awoke.

  “Maggie, why don’t you get your children settled. Then we will talk. But I warn you, I expect you to tell me everything.”

  She was cornered. In her own living room. It was too bad she and God weren’t on speaking terms. She could really use someone in her corner about now.

  With a stiff nod, she turned away from the officers invading her home and went to get Rory and Siobhan settled in their cribs. Fortunately, they both were exhausted and settled down to sleep without fuss. For several minutes, she stood over them, her chest tight as she fought to control her anxiety. Whatever happened, she couldn’t go to jail. What would happen to them? Foster care? Maybe they’d even be separated.

  A shadow blocked out the hallway light briefly before moving aside. Startled, she looked up. Lieutenant Willis stood in the doorway. His expressionless face gave no clue as to what he was thinking.

  “Are you about ready?” His cool tone hit her like a whip. She straightened her spine and moved toward him, pausing until he stepped aside to allow her to precede him. Chief Garraway was on her cell phone pacing in front of the kitchen door while she listened to the person on the other end. She held up her finger as she spotted them. Maggie walked to the love seat and dropped down. She pulled her legs up onto the seat and hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin against them.

  “I want to know as soon as his lawyer arrives. We need to get this situation under control...Sounds good.” Covering the mouthpiece of the phone, she whispered to Lieutenant Willis, “The perp is waiting for his lawyer. Hopefully he will turn on whoever hired him.”

  The love seat shifted slightly as Lieutenant Willis lowered himself down beside her. She shifted closer to her side as inconspicuously as she could. Considering the way he smirked at her, she wasn’t very successful. She forgot about her discomfort with his nearness as he rubbed his side, grimacing.

  “Are you okay, Lieutenant?” she whispered, casting a glance at the chief, who wasn’t paying any attention to them. “I could get you some ice or a heating pad. I’m not really sure which would be better.”

  He sighed. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”

  Which of course meant he didn’t want her to fuss over him. She rolled her eyes. “Men.”

  “What do you mean, men?”

  “Get a knife wound, and it’s nothing. Get a cold, and the world ends.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yeah, it is. My husband was all macho, but when he got a cold, he wanted to be babied. He was a horrible patient.”

  “Speaking of your husband, it’s time we talked about what happened to him.”

  Maggie jumped. She didn’t feel bad as she noticed the lieutenant did, too. Obviously, he wasn’t i
n top form. He apparently hadn’t noticed his commanding officer approaching them, either.

  She shook her head. She just needed to get through this. Drawing a deep lungful of air to steel herself, Maggie turned to face the chief. Surprisingly, though, it was the lieutenant who spoke.

  “The last information we have on you is that you started working at the LaMar Pond Journal as a fact-checker three years ago. About two years ago, you made an appointment to come talk with the police. You never kept that appointment. You sent an email stating you needed to reschedule. But you never did.”

  Maggie blinked. Nodded. “Yes. I remember. I had forgotten about that.”

  The man beside her sat forward, his expression intent. “I didn’t. I was the cop you made the appointment with. Until someone spotted you and called the missing persons hotline, I was looking for a body.”

  * * *

  It was petty, but there was some satisfaction in watching the shock widen her eyes. He hadn’t been joking. He had been sure she was dead.

  “Why would you assume I was dead?” He hadn’t noticed the soft lilt in her voice before, just the softest touch of an Irish accent.

  “Remember that case, the trial for Melanie Swanson?” He waited for her nod before continuing. “It turned out several of the jurors had been threatened to give a guilty verdict. Melanie was framed, and the real killers wanted to cover their tracks. A few of the blackmailed jurors eventually tried to come forward to tell the truth, and they were murdered. I thought you had been, too.”

  He had a hollow feeling inside as he remembered thinking he had allowed one more life to slip through his hands.

  “Wait...she was innocent? That girl accused of murder? Oh, I feel awful! I thought she did it.” Her hands covered her face. Her entire posture suggested she was blaming herself for not seeing the truth. Dan could empathize; he knew only too well how it felt to have your insides torn out by guilt. By the feeling that you hadn’t done enough, hadn’t tried hard enough.

  “Don’t. Feel guilty, I mean. You did your duty. If you really thought she committed the crime, then you had to vote that way.”