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Close To The Heart (Westen Series Book 5) Page 17
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“Or,” she continued as if his angry interruption hadn’t happened, “the judge would make her a ward of the state and put her into the real foster system.”
The light from the front room caught on the tear that slid down her cheek.
Oh damn. He hated to see women cry, especially Melissa.
“Come here.” He grasped her far shoulder with his hand and gently pulled her into his side. Her head rested on his shoulder as her body trembled from her tears. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I don’t see how. She’s so little and so smart. I hate for her to end up in the system. She’ll probably retreat into her shyness. She’s already had enough tragedy and disappointment in her life.”
“I’ve appeared in Judge Rawlins’ court many times. He’s a man with wisdom and common sense. He tends to rule with his eye on justice more than just the law.”
“How does that help Lexie?” she said, her voice less shaky.
“I’m not going to promise you he won’t put her in the system, but with you and Chloe on her side, I think things aren’t necessarily set in stone.”
She leaned back and he read the confusion and hope in her eyes. “And what does that mean?”
“It means you never know what might happen between tonight and tomorrow.”
When she laid her hand on his chest, he closed his hand over hers. She parted her lips and the need to taste them again overwhelmed him. With any other woman he’d simply lower his mouth to hers. But this was Melissa. A woman he knew had suffered greatly at the hand of her husband, the man who’d promised to love and protect her. Instead he’d used, abused and betrayed her trust. Daniel wouldn’t take anything from her. Not even a kiss. She had the right to say what happened to her and he meant to respect that, respect her.
“I want so badly to kiss you right now, a real kiss, but if you’re not ready, just say so,” he whispered mere centimeters from her lips.
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes, you’re not ready?” His heart sank. Damn, he’d meant what he said, and he wouldn’t press the issue, but it still kicked him in the gut she didn’t trust him enough for a simple kiss.
Slowly, she smiled. “Yes, I’d like to kiss you, too.”
His mother hadn’t raised a fool. He’d just been given the green light, but still remembered this was a woman just finding her feet in the world again. His gaze still fixed on her as she tilted her face upward and her lids dropped over her eyes, he lowered his mouth until he tasted the softness of her lips. She tasted of tomato sauce and Italian spices, and a touch of feminine heat.
Closing his eyes, he fought the urge to close his arms around her and pull her in tighter. A little mewling sound escaped her, sending a zing of masculine pride through him that he’d been the one to make her purr with a kiss.
Suddenly the ringtone of his cellphone broke the sounds of the night and the connection between them. He pulled back and watched her eyes open, another fist-pump to his ego hit him when her gaze appeared somewhat disoriented with passion. He’d given her that.
The cellphone gave its second run at the ringtone.
“Sorry, I have to get this. It’s work,” he said, releasing his hold on her and fishing the damn phone from his pocket.
“I understand.” She smiled a little and sat back on the swing.
He hit the answer button, wishing the caller was on the other side of the world without cell service. “Sheriff?”
“I need you to come to the Thurber place, pronto,” Gage said, his voice flat and hard.
Daniel sat up straighter. “What’s up?”
“Not over the phone. Jason is waiting on us to get there,” Gage said and hung up.
He disconnected and pocketed his phone, all the peace he’d been enjoying with Melissa completely gone. “I have to go.”
“I know.” She stood, pulling her sweater a little tighter as she walked to the front door. “Just be careful out there.”
He’d followed her to the door. “I’ll stay here until you’ve locked up.”
She gave him a curious look and he hated making her nervous, but until they found Lexie’s mother and the drug dealer Gary, he needed to know Lexie and Melissa were safe. Without asking why he was suddenly serious and overly cautious, she gave him a grim-faced nod.
“Alright,” she finally said, stepping inside and closing the door.
Once the deadbolt clicked shut, Daniel sprinted off the porch to his vehicle. Whatever had his boss sounding like an angry drill-sergeant couldn’t be good. The Thurber place being the setting, caused the hairs on his neck to itch like he’d rolled in a fresh patch of poison ivy.
16
Three SUV’s, Gage’s truck and the coroner’s van lined the drive leading to the old Thurber place when Daniel arrived. Lights were on in every room and lots of people moving about. Climbing out of his SUV, he inhaled deeply, checked his weapon on his hip and braced himself for what he might be walking into. Given Gage’s gruff order for him to meet here, whatever was inside that house, it wasn’t good.
Daniel nodded at one of the off-duty state troopers who’d signed up to do overtime in the search for drug houses as he stepped onto the porch. The man’s pale, stoic face confirmed his suspicions. Gage met him at the door, wearing a surgical mask and handing him one.
“Rose is here.”
The smell of death hit Daniel as he walked into the living room, the clutter thinned out by the crime scene unit after his previous visit to the house. “How long has she been dead?”
“Frank says she’s in complete rigor mortis, so at least eight hours, less than eighteen,” Gage said, leading him to the back bedroom.
“Who found her?”
“Wes,” Gage said, nodding to the other deputy standing near the bed talking to the coroner. “He was driving past on his way home when he noticed the lights were on. Knowing we’d cleared it days ago, he came to see if Rose had returned or if someone new was squatting here.”
Daniel listened as he stood in the doorway, looking at the death scene in front of him. The emaciated female body lay sprawled on the bed, her arms and legs askew. Blonde hair a little darker and much duller than Lexie’s covered part of her face and spread out in tangles around her head. Bruises covered her face, arms and neck. Clotted cuts on her lip, cheek and eyebrow were at least a couple of days old. “Someone beat the hell out of her.”
Gage folded his arms across his chest and nodded grimly. “Looks that way.”
“Do they think that’s the cause of death?”
“I don’t think so, deputy,” Frank said coming over with Wes as two of the coroner techs covered Rose’s body with a blanket and moved her onto the gurney. “Let’s go outside to talk.”
Once the quartet were outside, they took off their masks.
“You were right, Dan, she was beaten, but the bruises are old, as are the lacerations. The beating was brutal, but no fatal. Won’t know for sure until I perform the autopsy, but my best guess is she died of an overdose like the other two we found last week.”
“Same batch of fentanyl-laced heroin?” Gage asked.
“Won’t know that for sure until the blood analysis comes back. Or the chemical analysis of the drugs we found in the bedroom with her.” Frank gave a shrug. “Given her history of addiction, her emaciated state and the drugs and paraphernalia in the house? I’m pretty sure we’re looking at an overdose.” He paused and glanced back inside. “Or possibly a hot shot.”
“Fuck,” Wes muttered, and Daniel agreed.
Rose could’ve given herself too much heroin or one full of the much more addictive fentanyl or carfentanyl they’d found in the other drug houses. Accidental overdoses were part of the risks addicts were willing to take to get their high. Sometime murders were masked as overdoses by someone mixing the heroin for the addict and either making sure it was a lethal dose of heroin or lacing it with a deadly substance such as strychnine—aka a hot shot. Hot shot murders were hard to prove, and most were written o
ff as accidental overdoses to keep crime statistics low. There were enough murders to investigate without looking into someone offing addicts.
“Like I said, I’ll know more after the autopsy.” Frank turned to accompany Rose’s body to his van.
“Doesn’t it feel like someone’s cleaning house?” Wes said after a moment.
“How do you figure?” Gage asked, his attention on the former black ops officer.
Wes gave a head shrug with one raised brow. “We went from no reported heroin cases to suddenly not only finding the drugs in our county, but three deaths in the matter of days since we started investigating.”
“You’re thinking that whoever is dealing this shit, they’re trying to get back under the radar?” Daniel asked.
“Kind of like trying to put cows back into a burning barn,” Gage said as Cleetus joined them.
“I let the troopers leave for the night, like you asked, Sheriff,” the big man said. “Told them we’d let their bosses know about more overtime some time tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Cleetus. We’re just discussing Wes’s idea that the drug dealers might be doing a purge and clean-up mission.” Gage turned his focus back on Wes. “What would be the purpose now? What are they trying to hide? We know about the drugs. We know it’s being used here, if not sold or cut somewhere in the county. What else could they be hiding?”
“Something worse,” Cleetus muttered, his shoulders slumping and his face tightening into an angry mask, something rarely seen in their friend. Whatever he was thinking sent a sense of dread over Daniel’s nerves.
“What’s worse that peddling drugs and death?” he asked.
“Human trafficking,” Wes answered through tight lips.
Confused, Daniel looked from him, to Cleetus and finally settled on Gage, who looked just as serious as the other two men. Suddenly, he felt like the odd man out. “Did I miss something? How did we go from drug dealing to murder to human trafficking?”
“We got an ID on the guy found in the house with Jen Powers. Damien Smith.”
“I’m assuming he’s in the system if you got an ID on him,” Daniel asked, still not sure what this had to do with the human trafficking thing.
“Yeah, his ex-wife died of a drug overdose six months ago in the southern rural part of the state and their daughter went missing.”
“He took her?”
Cleetus nodded grimly. “That was what the local sheriff thought when I talked to him today. He disappeared off the grid about the same time. Then the authorities did a raid on a massage parlor and found several underage girls working inside. Some from other countries and one that looked like an older version of Smith’s daughter. Once they got her cleaned up and did a DNA test, it was her. She was twelve.”
“Fuck.” Daniel slammed his fist into the porch post. Then a thought hit him. “Didn’t you say Jen Powers had two kids?”
“Girl and boy. Eight and ten. Hank has custody of them and between his parents and him, those kids are never out of sight of a responsible adult,” Gage said. “I had a long talk with him today. Hank had no idea who Damien Smith was, didn’t recognize his picture, and as far as he knew, the man had no contact with his kids. He’s on high alert now, too.”
“You’re thinking whoever is running this operation, they’re targeting women with young kids.” Daniel said, fighting the nausea roiling in his gut.
“Looks like that’s their MO. Hook the mothers, make them disappear and take the kids into the human trafficking ring.”
“And Lexie?” Daniel asked, knowing the answer and fighting the need to get to Westen House ASAP.
“Rose fits the situation. Single mother. No real support in the community. Drug addict,” Wes said.
“What if,” Daniel said, pausing to look out into the darkness, letting the horrible idea form in his mind.
“What if?” Cleetus prodded.
“Melissa told me the other night that Lexie knew who supplied her mother with “medicine”,” he said.
“Chloe mentioned it too. A boyfriend named, Gary,” Wes said.
“If this guy is the supplier and is behind these deaths…” Cleetus started.
“And he’s cleaning house of any witnesses, like we think…” Wes continued.
“Then Lexie can identify him and be in more danger, than we thought,” Daniel finished, rage hitting him like a solid blow to his chest.
Gage wiped his hand over his face in frustration. They’d all seen him do this when he didn’t like a situation. “The thing is, the last thing I want to do to that little girl is put her in protective custody. She’s been moved around enough. Bobby says she’s settled in at Westen House, at least until the hearing tomorrow. But until we know who is cleaning house and how dangerous they are, I hate to leave Melissa and those kids at risk.”
“I’ll go back and stay the rest of the night at Westen House,” Daniel said. If anyone was going to protect the people he’d come to care for, it was damn well going to be him. “Melissa and all the kids know me. Might not make them too scared if it’s just me.”
Gage gave him a nod. “Keep your radio on. I’ll have Jason do hourly drive-bys to be sure you’re okay.”
Daniel stepped off the porch headed down the drive.
“And Dan?” Gage called from the porch, stopping him before he got two yards away.
Daniel turned and looked at his boss.
“You see anything suspicious—I don’t care what it is—you call it in. No heroics. Not with a house full of kids. You get me?”
“Yes, sir.” Daniel, his heart racing with worry, picked up his pace, sprinting to get to his vehicle and back to Melissa and Westen House.
Seated at the table, with her laptop open in front of her, Melissa stared out the kitchen window into the darkness. The house was quiet, Colt finally turning off his radio and all the kids in bed. Perfect time to get some studying done. Only problem was, her mind kept drifting back to that kiss on the swing with Daniel.
Touching her finger to her mouth, she swore she still felt his lips on hers. In all her life she’d never been kissed like Daniel kissed her. Like she was something special, something to be savored. As if kissing her at that moment was the most important thing to him. Special.
Even in the early years with Frank, before she’d married him and he was busy sweeping her off her feet, his kisses had been for his needs—hard, demanding, punishing. She’d been so overwhelmed and her hormones so dormant before him, that she’d mistaken his attention as passion. It wasn’t until they were married, and he turned into a monster, she realized how wrong she’d been. Passion wasn’t what had motivated him, it was rage and power and need. Not need for her as a lover, but his need for control over her as his personal possession.
From the moment they’d met, she’d been a target for her ex-husband. Young and naïve, barely out of high school and no finances for college, Melissa had taken a job as a receptionist at a car dealership just outside of Columbus. Six months into her job, the handsome young salesman asked her to join him for lunch. A whirlwind romance designed to sweep her off her feet before common sense could take over ensued. Suddenly, she found herself married and moved into a stylish new home in her husband’s hometown. With no friends in town and both her elderly parents dying not too long after her wedding, Melissa was isolated, except for Frank’s family who had no trouble letting her know every chance they got that she was lucky to have married above her station in life.
It wasn’t just physical abuse she’d suffered in her marriage. She’d been berated and battered verbally from Frank almost from the day after her honeymoon. Nothing she did was good enough. Even his family delighted in belittling her. When she’d voiced her thoughts or opinions, she’d been told how stupid she was for thinking anything different from their group mentality. Not content to laugh at her or demean her in front of others, Frank used her own ideas and words as an excuse to punish her once they were alone.
Daniel treated her totally different. Ther
e was no sweeping her off her feet. No whirlwind courtship. In fact, she wouldn’t call it a courtship at all. It was more of a…friendship. He asked her opinion on things, listened to her ideas about working with the teens and Lexie. If his empty plates were any indication, he appreciated her cooking. Another thing her ex-husband complained about. Besides Daniel’s kisses tonight and the other night, which were frustratingly too short in her opinion, he’d also shown a quality missing in her husband, a love of children. He taught the boys how to play ball, speaking to them both with firmness and respect. She’d yet to see him raise his voice to any of them, not even on the practice field on the days they tried out for the team. In the evenings he talked with them about their interests and listened to them as if they were equals. And then there was his promise to Lexie.
Just remembering how he’d taken the time to teach her to throw the ball this afternoon. The big man squatting down to talk to the little girl dressed in pink, helping her throw the ball even though she was dressed in a tutu skirt instead of jeans. Melissa’s heart did a little flip as it had that afternoon. He was such an easy man to love. Someday he would make an excellent father.
This time her heart didn’t flip, it actually ached in the center of her chest as she laid her hand over the lower part of her stomach, her mind careening back to that day in the hospital nearly two years ago.
“Stop your sniveling,” Frank said with a sneer from the chair beside the bed. “It wasn’t like you’d named it or anything.”
But she had. She’d dreamed of a dark-haired little girl called Megan. Now that dream was no longer alive. The baby was gone. And that wasn’t the worst part. “Did you hear what the doctor said?”
“I heard him and it’s a win-win situation, not something to cry over.”
Hurt clawed through the dregs of the anesthesia still fogging her brain. “How can you say that? He said they had to take my uterus out. I’ll never have children now.”
“Good. I never wanted any brats in the house anyways,” he said, sitting back in his chair like a king who’d just made a decree for his fiefdom. “You should be thanking me. Now your body won’t get all fat from having kids.”