Two until Hope wakes up, which will likely be sooner than later.
Give me an hour. I’m dealing with a situation.
A situation. Did it involve whatever crime had driven Joe out of the house before dawn?
Okay. See you then.
Work was impossible, so I headed into Hope’s room to grab her laundry basket. Although we’d moved the monitor set up to her bedroom, I wasn’t concerned about hearing her once she woke up. She had a set of lungs on her that could be heard throughout the house. I carted her laundry downstairs to the basement and put a load in the washing machine. Just as I was heading back upstairs, I paused. Something didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. It was like something was out of place.
I glanced around the unfinished space, trying to figure out what was making me uneasy, and I realized that some of the boxes along the far wall looked like they’d been moved around. When I’d inherited the house, I’d also inherited boxes of photos and keepsakes that had been stored in the house for decades. Joe and I had been going through them, trying to determine what to keep and what to toss out. It must have been from the last time he was down here.
Feeling more at ease, I headed back upstairs to figure out what to make for breakfast. I got the impression Dermot didn’t cook for himself, so I tried to spoil him on the rare occasions when he ate with me. I decided on waffles, bacon, and fried eggs, and of course, a pot of coffee. I’d started the bacon frying, made the waffle fixings, and set the iron to heating when I heard a soft knock at the back door.
I hurried over and opened the door when I saw Dermot on the stoop. “Something smells good,” he said as he walked inside.
“It’s the bacon. Coffee’s in the pot.”
Dark semi-circles hung under his eyes, and he gave me a weary smile. “I could drink a gallon.”
“I think I’m more rested than you, which is saying something,” I said wryly. “Especially since Hope has decided sleep is for losers.”
He released a laugh and headed to the coffee pot. “I remember those days.” There was plenty of longing in his tone.
Before Hope was born, Dermot had told me that he’d had a wife and children, but he hadn’t said what had become of them, and I hadn’t asked.
“You want to get to business right away or stick to pleasantries for now?” he asked as he poured coffee into a mug I’d left on the counter.
I spread batter into the waffle iron and closed it. “I say we get the business out of the way, then we can do pleasantries when Hope wakes up.”
“Okay,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee, then turning around and leaning his butt against the counter. “I take it Joe isn’t here is because he’s dealing with the murder south of town.”
“So it was a murder?” I asked. “He only told me they found a body.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “A bullet to the back of the head is usually due to murder.”
A chill ran down my back. “Anyone I might know?”
“It was one of Malcolm’s men, but someone he brought on after the two of you split. I doubt you’d know him.”
I nodded.
James “Skeeter” Malcolm was the king of the crime world in Fenton County, Arkansas. He had a long criminal career, but he’d bought his crown a year and a half ago with my reluctant help. I’d seen his murder in a vision. It had happened at the auction for the top dog position in the Fenton County underworld, and rather than skip the event, he’d insisted I come with him. Since I was dating the assistant district attorney at the time, I’d needed a disguise—a sexy black dress, heels, and a hat with a thick veil to hide my face.
And so the Lady in Black was born.
I’d donned that hat and veil for several months, using my visions to help James figure out who was trying to sabotage him. Although I was helping James, I wasn’t doing it for him; in exchange, he’d agreed to protect my then-boyfriend, Mason (unbeknownst to Mason). But a funny thing happened over those months—James and I had become friends, and we’d stayed friends even after Mason broke up with me, and I (temporarily, it turned out) retired my hat and veil. We continued to be friends for several months, meeting once a week behind the abandoned Sinclair gas station on the west side of town. That was how I discovered something most people didn’t realize about the man most of the county feared. James Malcolm—Skeeter to everyone else—had a good heart.
I hadn’t meant to give him mine.
Our fling had begun with clandestine meetings that were dangerous and seductive and exciting. We would meet at his secret house in the woods south of town and play a beautiful game of pretend. Because James had made it very clear he had no interest in marriage or a family, and I had always dreamed of having both. We weren’t supposed to fall in love, only we had, and it had made everything more complicated.
Then I got pregnant, despite having been careful with birth control, and everything fell apart. He’d given me an ultimatum: him or the baby, but it hadn’t been a choice at all. He’d made his decision the moment he uttered those words.
He’d told me that if I aligned myself with the criminals who were joining forces to keep the Hardshaw Group out of the county, we would be enemies.
So that had been his choice too. Because from what I’d learned, Hardshaw had infiltrated other counties like a disease, bringing in hard drugs and harder people. Having Hardshaw in Fenton County wouldn’t be good for anyone other than the few people it enriched, and I had no intention of allowing them to destroy my home. Hope’s home.
“Any idea who did it?”
“If I had to guess, Denny Carmichael.” He took a sip of his coffee, then added, “I doubt he did it personally. Probably had a goon do it.”
“Do you think Denny is about to make a play for James’ position?”
“Hard to say. It could be that Carmichael found Malcolm’s guy snoopin’ around on his property and decided to teach him a lesson. Could be things are escalating. Carmichael is none too pleased with Malcolm’s involvement with Hardshaw. Maybe he’s acting on that. Especially in light of the news that Hardshaw kidnapped the kids.”
I nodded as I took the last of the bacon out of the skillet and cracked a couple of eggs into the pan. The waffle iron beeped, and I took the first one out, pouring batter for a second.
“You know you can’t tell Simmons any of this, right?” he asked in a nonchalant tone, but there was an edge to his voice.
“I know. What we discuss is purely confidential. Always has been. Always will be.”
He gave me a tight smile. I suspected he understood how hard it was for me to keep secrets from Joe. My life had been full of secrets, and I wanted to be done with them. But I also knew sharing certain things would cause more harm than good.
“Where do you think we stand with Hardshaw’s presence in the county?” I asked.
“Two months ago, I would have said they didn’t have much of one,” he said with a sigh. “Seemed like they’d retreated with their tail between their legs. But their connection to Sonder Tech makes me think they never fully left. Are they lying low, trying to sneak in under the radar? Or are they cleaning up loose ends before they leave town for good? Given their recent troubles with the FBI in Dallas, I suspect it’s the latter. Especially with your brother-in-law turning himself in to the state police.”