Page 50 of Detective for the Debutante (SAFE Haven Security #3)

LEIGH

I want to sob. To lie down and curl up as regret and relief form the strangest combination. That’s the most fucked-up part of all of this—I’m relieved Ellis is dead. And the guilt that hits me in the stomach as soon as I recognize the small comfort is almost crippling.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” I chant, hiding my eyes behind my hands as the dizziness increases, the small metal landing spinning beneath me.

“Good. I didn’t want to share anyway. And this gets rid of the loose end,” Kenneth says.

Opening my eyes, I witness his gaze move from Ellis’s lifeless body at the bottom of the stairs to mine. It lights up and he reaches for me.

Another noise rattles the door and Kenneth and I both jolt, staring at the steel door as it shudders. Mr. Vanderweel rushes over to the bottom of the stairs, only sparing Ellis a cursory glance before he shifts his attention to us.

“Fuck. Bring her. We need to go,” he tells Kenneth.

“But—”

“Now, Kenny.”

Kenneth grumbles but does as he’s instructed and leads me back down the stairs, his grip on my arm bruising even though I don’t put up much of a fight.

I killed someone. Someone died because of me.

“Someone’s trying to get in here. We need to go. We’ll do this somewhere else,” Mr. Vanderweel tells Kenneth.

“What about him?” Kenneth nods toward Ellis.

“Cops’ll think it was a drug deal gone bad. We’ll need to figure out a different fall guy,” Mr. Vanderweel says.

I killed him.

He was going to rape you .

But I took a life.

What was he going to take from you?

The internal argument dies, locked behind the shock setting in after the traumatic events of the night.

“Not necessarily. We can make it look like he killed her before coming here. He can still be our murderer. But we have to hurry.”

Kenneth opens the car door to shove me in, and a third noise rattles the door before it collapses inward. It was a crash. Someone has been ramming the garage door with their car.

Did Sydney send someone?

Fuck, I hope so.

Taking advantage of the latest distraction, I slam the door, Kenneth’s hand caught between it and the frame of the car.

The scream is primal. High-pitched. Pain-filled. The shrill sound sends goose bumps down my body.

“Gah! Open the door, fuck, God, open the door! My hand! My fucking hand!”

With he and Mr. Vanderweel distracted by Kenneth’s shouts, I’m free. I rush toward the collapsed door, a loud bang echoing around me.

“The next one’s in you if you move,” Mr. Vanderweel says from behind me.

Freezing, I glance over my shoulder to find a gun leveled in my direction with Mr. Vanderweel at the other end.

He opens the door and Kenneth crumples to the ground, cradling his broken hand.

“Get back here,” Mr. Vanderweel demands.

If he thinks I’m listening, he’s crazier than I thought possible. Which is saying something considering he’s a fucking psychopath.

I shake my head.

“No. Shoot me if you have to, but I’m not going anywhere.” A bravado I didn’t know existed fills my voice.

But I already know he doesn’t want my DNA here. He would have killed me already.

“Drop the weapon.”

I want to drop to my knees as relief rushes through my body at the recognizable voice at the end of the command.

A welcome light in the darkness I’ve survived so far.

Murphy steps around the other side of his car, his weapon trained on Mr. Vanderweel while flicking a glance at Kenneth before his eyes clash with mine.

“You’re here,” I say, tears running down my face.

He nods.

“It’s okay now, Stóirín. Come here,” Murphy says gently.

Mr. Vanderweel cocks his weapon.

“If she moves I’m going to shoot her,” he spits out.

“Drop the weapon, Vanderweel, it’s over.” Murphy turns his full attention back to Mr. Vanderweel whose hate-filled gaze stays glued to me.

“H-he killed Selene. He admitted to it. It was h-h-here.” My teeth chatter and I can’t stop shaking.

This nightmare is almost over. But I’m stuck in place, not sure if I should stay still or rush toward Murphy.

My attention shifts back to Murphy whose eyes soften when he looks at me.

“Dad? Is it true?” Charlie steps around the car, joining the weird circle we’re forming.

Murphy’s gaze sharpens and he shifts position until he can keep Charlie in front of him as well.

“What are you doing here?” Mr. Vanderweel asks, his eyes twitching between his son and me.

For the first time tonight, I see a weakness in the evil the man in front of me embodies.

“I found texts on my phone to Leigh and I remembered you asked to use my phone earlier. I went to the house to talk to you about them but you weren’t home so I tracked the car.” He points at the SUV. “Is what Leigh said true? Did you kill Selene?”

The question hangs in the silence wrapping around us, punctuated by the faraway echo of sirens.

“She was turning you against me!” Mr. Vanderweel shouts, his aim dropping as his attention shifts to his son.

The bellow of rage and grief is the only warning anyone gets before Charlie lunges for his father, knocking them both to the ground. Murphy rushes to me, pulling me into his arms and brushing a kiss against my hair before tucking me behind him.

“Let’s get you outside.”

“But Mr. Vanderweel?—”

“I’ll come back for him. But I want you safe.”

I’m too cold to argue, relief swamping me as Murphy’s cologne wraps around me.

I’m safe.

My fingers grip the soft cotton of his shirt and I try to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

We’re just past the SUV when another bang echoes through the factory. I jolt, losing contact with Murphy’s shirt as fear locks my limbs.

“Charlie,” I murmur.

“Stay here. Do you know how to use a gun?” Murphy asks, his eyes clashing with mine.

“Yes, but?—”

“Here.” He shoves his gun and cell phone at me and is back around the corner of the SUV before I can blink.

I want to call him back. He’s unprotected. What if?—

I can’t think like that.

Time slows to a crawl as I wait. What has been incredibly loud and overwhelming the last few moments as the battle waged between father and son is now silent.

“Stóirín,” Murphy calls my name and I want to cry as the adrenaline ebbs from my body again.

He’s okay.

“Yes?”

“Call 911. We need an ambulance.”

“Who?” I call out.

“Dad? Dad? Oh my God, I killed him. Dad?” Charlie’s anguished cries fill the silence.

And for the first time since I started up that dark trail, I’m not sure how to feel anything at all.