Page 28

TWENTY-SEVEN

willa

I forced Declan to make an appointment with his physical therapist before his morning practice. I watched him try to walk around the house this morning looking like the tin man searching for his oil can. I’m glad I did too. The physical therapist wouldn’t let him practice, which he would’ve pushed through and hurt himself more. She said he just needs to rest today, and he can be back on the ice tomorrow.

“Driving isn’t going to bother my knees, Princess,” Declan says, trying to take the keys from my hand. I snatch them away and glare at him.

“Yes, it will. You can stretch out in the back while I drive.” I hop in the driver’s seat of Cal’s massive SUV and adjust the seat so I can reach the pedals. The man has one child and now he drives a car with a third row and every added safety feature that exists. Maverick’s and Declan’s cars only have two seats and mine is too small to comfortably fit two large men, so we’re borrowing Cal’s.

Declan climbs in the back as I adjust my seat. Maverick is already in the passenger seat. I see the two of them exchange a look while I adjust my mirrors.

“What? What was that look?” They both glance at each other again, which just makes me mad. “I will sing the entire three-hour drive. Don’t test me.” They both look alarmed, which is satisfying, but I keep my face in a scowl.

“I just thought Declan would be driving,” Mav says, but he’s tapping his fingers on his thigh. It’s a nervous tick of his. I’m sure he’s nervous about having to see his dad, but I’m getting the feeling that’s not the current problem.

“He has old man knees,” I say. Mav turns a pleading look on Declan.

“It’s just that your driving is a little scary, Princess,” Dec offers, trying to lighten the blow.

“Scary?” My voice rises in pitch. I can see Mav flinch out of the corner of my eye.

“It’s not scary, exactly,” Mav says nervously. “Just. . . aggressive.”

I curb my shock and smile. Declan and Maverick both look scared at the change, which just makes me smile wider.

“Buckle up, baby,” I say, catching Declan’s wide eyes in the mirror. “You too, Mav.” I turn to him just in time to see him scramble for his seat belt.

This is going to be fun.

“We’re here,” I singsong. I spent the last three hours singing show tunes and driving like I usually do. Judging from the gasps and a few worried yelps from Mav, I might need to adjust how I drive. You’d think if I was that bad, I would at least have been pulled over or even been in an accident. But I haven’t. Squeaky clean driving record over here, so I don’t know what they’re being so dramatic about.

After handing over our IDs to the guards at the gate and parking in the small visitor lot, Mav and I are led through a metal detector and into a bland room. The walls are eggshell white with a black linoleum floor that’s old and cracked. The small white tables with their matching benches are bolted to the floor. Harrison told us what to expect, but it’s depressing seeing it in person. Since the senator is being held on non-violent charges, he’s allowed visits like this. I was expecting the kind behind glass where you have to talk into a phone. Drug trafficking doesn’t seem non-violent to me either, but what do I know?

Maverick’s fingers are tapping his bouncing legs. I put my hand over his and it stops the bouncing, but his shaking becomes more evident. “It’ll be fine, Mav,” I lie. He knows it’s a lie, but he forces a smile, anyway. My heart aches for my friend.

Soon, a guard enters with James Wolfe in tow. He takes the senator’s handcuffs off and takes his post by the door.

“No cuffs?” I mutter under my breath in shock.

“Non-violent, remember?” Mav whispers back.

“Maverick, Ms. Prince,” Wolfe greets, taking the seat on the bench across from us. He folds his hands in front of him like he’s conducting a meeting. His salt and pepper hair is immaculately styled. He’s wearing beige pants and a shirt that resembles hospital scrubs. “Or is it Mrs. Monroe now?” The jerk smiles at me.

“You saw last night’s breaking celebrity news?” I ask sarcastically. “I didn’t take you for a fan of gossip.”

“You’d be correct. I keep abreast of any and all news surrounding my son and the people he’s allowed in his circle.” Wolfe smiles using that politician smile that was plastered all over the state of Maine during his many campaigns over the years.

“Dad, what did you do?” Maverick asks, losing all pretense that this is a friendly visit.

Wolfe clears his throat and shifts in his seat, almost like he’s uncomfortable, before looking at his son. “I did what I thought was best for my family. That’s all I’ve ever done.”

“I don’t think insider trading, kidnapping, or murder are good for any family,” I mutter.

Wolfe’s eyes flair in surprise.

“What? No insider trading?” I ask with a casual shrug. I should probably be playing nicer with this man, but there’s no way I was going to sit here and watch the way Maverick reacts to him without opening my mouth.

Wolfe leans forward, keeping his voice low. “While there may be some truth to the charges against me, I have never harmed or arranged harm of another person.” Maverick scoffs, but Wolfe doesn’t let up. “I know what you think I did, Maverick, and I can assure you that you’re wrong.”

“Which thing? Knocking Mom around or killing my boyfriend?” Maverick asks with so much venom in his tone that I have to double check it’s actually him sitting next to me.

“ I ,” Wolfe starts, “have never laid a hand on your mother or anyone else.”

“You don’t need to lie. I’ve seen your handy work,” Mav says, shrugging casually, though his fingers are still tapping out a soundless beat on his leg.

“You’re not listening, son. I have never caused physical harm to another.”

“Then who?” I ask, but Wolfe’s eyes immediately flicker to the guard and then to all the cameras in the room. He shakes his head when he meets my stare. I quickly glance at Maverick, who looks just as confused as I feel.

“So you didn’t physically hurt anyone, but you still tried to force me into a career I didn’t want and into a marriage I’d be miserable in.”

Wolfe sighs and looks at his hands. “Believe it or not, that was to protect you.” Maverick and I both scoff at the same time.

“You need to give me more than that.” Maverick’s tone is bordering on a plea, but he’s still too angry to go there.

Wolfe’s lips press into a firm line. “I can’t,” he says, looking at the cameras again.

“Give me something, Dad. Please.” This time, the desperation bleeds through in Maverick’s voice and expression. I grab his hand and grip it tightly in mine.

“He’s here,” Wolfe whispers and immediately stands.

“Who’s here? In the prison?” Mav asks. Wolfe shakes his head almost imperceptibly. He’s holding his hands out for the cuffs before we can ask him anything else.

“I love you, Maverick. I’m sorry.” With those parting words, he’s being led through the door and back into the bowels of the prison.

“Who was he talking about?” Harlow asks after we finish recounting our day to everyone from our usual seats around Cal’s table. Well, everyone else is in a seat. I’m in Declan’s lap, tracing the lines of his tattoos on the arms he has wrapped around me. The one on his left arm is of the mountain range near the campground we grew up going to. It’s the one I find my fingers tracing almost unconsciously all the time. He didn’t enjoy letting me go into the prison alone and has been clinging to me ever since.

“His partner?” I suggest. “He kept glancing at the guard and the cameras like he was worried about saying too much.”

“It’s Ezra. It has to be,” Declan says. “I had three hours in the car to think about this, and it’s the only thing that makes sense. There’s no point telling us his partner is here. That’s a conclusion we would’ve jumped to, anyway.”

Harrison looks at Maverick for a moment before speaking, like he’s trying to weigh his words carefully. “Maverick, did you ever see your father hurt your mother?”

Mav blinks slowly. “You believe him?”

“It’s not a matter of belief. I just want facts,” Harrison says gently.

“No. I never witnessed it, but she would always call me to help her with her injuries after,” he admits sadly, gaze turning down to his lap.

“I’m sticking with the Senator Wolfe theory. It’s all we have right now and even if he’s not guilty of some crimes, he isn’t innocent.” Harlow says, sharing a glance with Jo. “Our platform for the podcast is open and taking submissions as of this morning. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and someone will have a lead on Ezra.”

“I’ll start digging into associates,” Harrison says. “Are there any old classmates or childhood friends your dad ever spoke about?” he asks Maverick.

Mav’s face scrunches up in thought before he nods. “I don’t know his name,” Mav sighs and places his head in his hands. “There was one guy he just called an ‘old buddy’ that he would meet for drinks once or twice a year. I never asked because we weren’t close, and I didn’t care.”

“Harlow, can you start pulling yearbooks? Look for any pictures of Wolfe with someone else. I’m in the middle of looking into his current known associates, but they’re all corrupt and it’s a lot of shit to dig through.” Harlow nods to her dad.

The conversation switches to Harrison, Harlow, and Jo talking research strategy. I stifle a yawn, but Declan notices.

“Come on, Princess. It’s been a long day.”

I leap off his lap before he can stand with me in his arms. “No carrying me until your knees are feeling better.”

His eyes narrow, but he listens and holds out his hand to me instead. I take it, enjoying the way his rough, warm hand feels against mine.

“Are you staying here or at my house?” I ask Jo. She’s supposed to be moving into her own apartment in a few days, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Harlow insists she stay here until we figure out who is working with Wolfe. Someone tried to silence Harlow. Trying to silence Jo next makes sense.

“Can you stay with me? Please?” Mav asks sounding so broken it breaks my heart.

They stare at each other for a moment before Jo nods.

“We’re going to find Ezra,” Kai says to Maverick. “Whether he’s here or in the jungles of Brazil, we’ll find him. He’s alive, Mav. Hold on to that.”

“I’m trying. I’m trying so damn hard, Kai,” Mav admits.

I glance up at Declan, but he looks just as helpless as I feel.

“Hey, Dec. Did your friend get pictures of me at your game last night?” Cal asks, changing the subject and causing Harlow to roll her eyes.

“I hope he did, and with your Chickadees hat on. I’ll post it everywhere,” I tease. The mood needs lightening, and no one is better at that than Cal.

“Not a single person tried to fight me in the parking lot for wearing it,” he says, and crosses his arms smugly.

“Let’s see if that still holds when I tag every Boston sports team in it.”

Cal’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t.”

“Your wore the rival team’s merch to a home game? I don’t like sports and even I know that’s bad, Callahan.” Belle glances at me and gives me a small smile before turning back to her brother.

“It’s not even the same sport! Hockey and baseball aren’t related!”

“I don’t even know if Ben took a picture of you, Cal,” Declan says.

“Why wouldn’t he? Look at me.” Cal stands and turns with his arms out like we need to get a good look at him to understand.

“On that note, I’m going home to get some sleep.” I pull Declan behind me. Cal catcalls as we leave, but I ignore him.

Sleep never finds me. I spend the night wrapped in Declan’s arms, replaying the meeting with the senator, trying to find anything I may have missed.