Easy for Meg to say. She had been born kick-ass strong. But Bailey was just a normal, regular girl. She couldn’t just stop being scared because Megan said so.
And yet being scared didn’t have to mean she was powerless.
“He’s not going to win.” The fierceness of her words surprised even her. “Because we’re going to canvass the entire school starting tomorrow and find out if J.D. harassed anyone else.”
“We are?”
“Damn straight.” She whispered it, though, because she didn’t believe in swearing in front of children.
Not even sleeping newborns.
“Then you’d better put that baby in his crib so we can get a jump on that homework.”
Bailey did just that, tucking Aiden’s blanket around him before she moved to the stack of texts she’d carried inside. Only when she was sure Meg wasn’t looking did she risk one last glance out the window.
Dawson wasn’t out there anymore, which was just as well since she didn’t need any distractions. She’d probably only imagined that moment of connection when their eyes had met.
And even if she hadn’t? Once he found out who she was, he wasn’t going to like her anymore.
BABY CARRIERS WERE a godsend.
Sam vowed to write a personal thank-you to the creator of the invention. It kept Aiden safe and sleeping against his chest while leaving his hands free to hammer away on his laptop at the kitchen table. Finally—finally—he could get some work done at home.
Staying up most of the night, he’d inputted all the incidents of assault in a five-mile radius of the quarry into a spreadsheet. He had already used it to confirm no incidents had ever been reported while Jeremy Covington was out of town—a narrow window at best since he only had access to a small portion of the guy’s vacation dates from the town council. But, more interesting, he’d discovered a higher number of incidents during the annual social-studies teachers’ conference that Covington’s wife attended every year.
All circumstantial, of course, but given how little he had to work with, he considered every nugget a victory. Especially with almost fifteen years’ worth of data to look at.
He would begin cross-checking the cases against the list of victims they’d already interviewed, then identify anyone else he needed to speak to. He would review the MO of all the assaults and then double-check physical descriptions to see how many of them matched Jeremy Covington.
Sam emailed the file to himself to examine further at work just as his doorbell rang. Clamping a protective hand against the carrier, he practically sprinted to answer it, hoping Aiden would stay asleep a little longer.
Flinging open the door, he found...the mayor? Sure enough, Zach stood on his front step looking as disheveled as if he’d stayed up all night. In other words, he probably looked as bad as Sam.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Zach’s eyes narrowed as he took in the baby carrier.
“I believe it’s called a pouch sling.” He glanced down atthe carrier, where Aiden was starting to stir, his face scrunching up in that pre-cry, wrinkle-puss expression that meant food would be required soon. Sam rocked from foot to foot, trying to soothe his son while lowering his voice to a low hiss. “And it works like nobody’s business to keep the baby asleep unless you have clueless friends who ring the doorbell.”
“It’s purple, dude.” Zach squinted at the strap over one of Sam’s shoulders. “And plaid.”
“Right. And when you have kids you’ll be begging me to let you borrow it.” He stalked toward the kitchen to get a bottle started. “But I’ll just come over and ring your doorbell while your firstborn is sleeping instead.”
“Sorry.” Zach kept pace behind him, his leather shoes echoing on the hardwood. The guy still dressed more like a corporate raider than a small-town mayor. “I’m just not used to seeing you sporting anything from the lavender family.”
“Keep it up and I’ll pass you the bottle and the boy to see how you do.”
He shook the formula-and-water combination, glad he’d taken the time to do dishes earlier so everything was clean and ready.
It made for the fifth night in a row he hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours, but on the upside, at least he’d caught up on work.
“You’re going to wish we could go back to talking about purple baby carriers when you find out why I’m here.” Zach flung himself on a bar stool at the counter and turned his attention to Sam’s coffeemaker.
“Bad news?” Lifting Aiden out of the carrier, Sam cradled him in one arm and offered the boy the bottle. The kid latched on to it like he hadn’t eaten in days instead of hours. Would he ever sleep through the night at this rate?
“J. D. Covington walked out of juvie three days ago.” Zach concentrated on making the coffee as he turned on the water and filled the pot.
Sam managed to stop himself from uttering most of the curses that passed through his brain, not wanting to upset Aiden’s digestion.
“Why? And how come we’re only just finding out about it?” A message should have come to his department ASAP, damn it.
