Chapter Eighteen
Maura
Clay and his deputy take photos and our statements of this evening’s events at the cabin. My attacker refuses to talk and demands medical attention and his lawyer.
“Jax, I want to go with you to town. I want to hear what he says, I want to hear what my father says.”
He looks at Clay. “We can secure this asshole and put him in the back end of my plow truck. Maura and I can follow you to town. I assume your vehicle is on the main road.”
Sheriff Harker contacts the state police, and they assign two deputies to watch over the killer in the hospital while we go to my father’s house. After ringing the bell several times with no answer, I let us all in. After all, this is my home, too. Or it was.
Inside they search every room and can’t find my father. All his vehicles are in the garage. Clay looks at me. “Would he have called someone to take him somewhere? Maybe the airport?”
“Possibly. He likes being chauffeured. I’ll call his driver.” I hang up after the call. “He was supposed to be here at six to take him to the airport.”
“Does he have a safe room?” Jax asks.
“He had a special room built a few years ago in the basement. I never knew what it was for. I’ll show you.”
There’s a keypad outside the door. Jax nudges the sheriff and points to the corner where there’s a tiny camera.
“Open up, Mr. Kennedy, I have a warrant for your arrest,” Clay says. When nothing happens, he turns to me. “Would you have any idea of the code?”
“He uses the same code for everything.” I step in front of him and enter the number I know. The door clicks open.
My father’s sitting in a chair, with a drink in his hand and several suitcases stacked to the side. Taking a swallow of his drink, he glares at Clay. “I want my lawyer.”
“That’s it? You have nothing to say to me?” I hate the tremble in my voice.
He simply finishes his drink and stands.
Jax wraps his arm around me and leads me out as Clay and his deputy read my father his rights.
“Do you need anything from here? Jax asks.
“No, I don’t want anything from here. The sheriff has my backpack. Everything else I want is at my apartment. I know the bed is going to be too short for you and we’ll have to snuggle, but please tell me you’ll stay with me tonight.”
He tilts my chin forcing my eyes to his. “Ain’t leaving you ever, babe. Where you go, I go.”
I run my palms up his chest. “Good, because I’m not letting you go, either.”
The next week is a nightmare. I wouldn’t have gotten through it without Jax holding me up shock after shock.
Both my father and the attacker claimed not to know each other. But thanks to Jax’s friends, they found photos of the two meeting. They also were able to trace the fifty-thousand transfer from my father’s account to an offshore account.
Turns out my grandparents’ will was not in probate. They had left everything to me. Including the house where my father lived. My father was contesting on the grounds that due to health issues they were not in their right minds.
My father had been stealing from the trust fund my grandfather had established for me as well as from a couple of his businesses. My Grandpa had realized what was happening and was naming someone else as guardian of my trust and taking action to have my father removed from everything.
The death blow came when the authorities from Arizona reached out with concerns that my grandparents’ deaths weren’t from natural causes. Suspicion had been raised by the hospital staff and tests had been ordered before the cremation occurred. The tests indicated that they had been poisoned via their normal medications. All this heartache in the name of money and power.
After they died, my father found out they changed their wills leaving everything to me. His next step was to get rid of me since my will, which he forged, left everything in my name to him. His final step was finding the hitman on the dark web. The bastard’s moniker was Dark, Devious, Deadly. Specializing in Disturbing deaths for the unwanted. I couldn’t believe my father hated me that much.
The irony is the hitman ended up cutting a deal by exposing all the people who had hired him to commit murder. He bought his house and was living the good life. That is until his body was found hanging upside down from the cliff near his mountain home. I guess someone wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.
When things go bad, you see who your real friends are. I never had a lot of friends. Maizie, my bestie from the coffee shop, my boss at the bank and truthfully some others I hadn’t realized were more than acquaintances.
The last six weeks Jax has been my beacon, my strength. Half the town still crosses to the other side of the street when they see me because of the things my father did. Jax says to give them time to see me for myself. Our first step was to start making the repairs that had gone unattended in the buildings my father rented out. We also increased salaries in the restaurants he owned.
Jax has opened up to some of his old acquaintances. He’s even a part time deputy now for Clay. The transition of being around more people is getting easier. He even reached out to his therapist who was thrilled with the social progress he’s making and talked to him about potential triggers or setbacks and how to address them.
There was so much more to my guy than I realized. In addition to all the acres on the mountain and his cabin, he owns several buildings in town. The one with Mugg’s Up and the one across the alley from it with the shop I had hoped to rent for my clothing boutique. Not only does he own them, he does the construction and repairs on them himself. He likes to keep busy.
Today, we’re setting up a second home in the two-bedroom apartment above the boutique I’ll be opening this summer. With all the work Jax is doing to help make it right for the shop owner’s my father neglected that I’m now responsible for, plus the redesign for my business, we’ll be splitting our time between town and the cabin. Once everything is up and running, we’ll permanently move back to the cabin, coming to town only to work and visit friends.
That timeline might change later today. Looking out the window, I see Jax unloading the last of our boxes and heading into the building. He was right about the mixed reviews on our relationship. My mother was aghast—her words-—but she wasn’t a part of my life anyway. It’s my life, my choice, so I don’t care. Finally, I know what real love is.
“Babe, where do you want this last box? Do you know what’s in it? It doesn’t look like it’s been opened.”
“Bring it to the office. We can open it together.”
Laying the long flat box on the floor, he grabs his cutter from his toolbelt. I kneel on the other side of the box from him. Pulling back the cardboard he studies the white board with two long legs, then spies the instructions and pulls them out.
“Babe, this looks like a….” Sitting back on his heels, the paper in his hand shakes. “Babe, is this a crib?”
“Uh-huh,” I nod.
“A baby crib?”
“Yes. It’s used for a baby.”
“Maura, are you…” He looks at me. “Are you telling me something?”
“You remember that time we didn’t use condoms? Well, it appears you’re pretty potent, big guy.”
“I’m gonna be a dad?”
The look in his eyes says it all. “You’ll be a great father.”