“No. What do you wantEddie?”
“I want my wife and kids.” He said it like he was asking for popcorn and Coke to have during the matinée show at themovie.
“You don’t have a wife andkids.”
He stood straight and braced his hands on the counter. Emily hadn’t been kidding about the tats—he was covered knuckle to neck. He sneered. “I don’t care what the courts said, I never signed no divorce papers. Sarah is still my wife and belongs withme.”
She inhaled sharply through her nose. Holy shit. He didn’t know she was dead. “Yeah, well. Put a bullet in your brain. That’s the only way you’ll ever get close to Sarah again. Although, you’ll be burning in hell, so even that’sunlikely.”
He slammed his hand down on the counter. “Tell me where the fuck sheis!”
His outburst was expected and she didn’t flinch. It’d always been his way. Sugary sweet and polite, followed by an violent tantrum when he didn’t get his way. Sarah had admitted, after months of therapy, his sweetness had been one of the reasons she’d stay for solong.
“Saint Martin’s Episcopal Church. Section four, row twelve, plotthree.”
“What the fuck does thatmean?”
She crossed her arms. “It means shedied. Ten daysago.”
If she hadn’t been hyperaware, she might have missed the brief flash of pain that crossed his face. Maybe, in his own sick, demented way, he had loved Sarah. It didn’t changeanything.
“I want mykids.”
Asshole didn’t even acknowledge Sarah had died. Didn’t ask how or why. He was only worried about what he considered washis.
“You don’t have anykids.”
“Those kids are mine. They belong withme.”
She took a step closer to the counter and the gun she kept in a drop-down compartment underneath. The biometric scanner would recognize her fingerprints and drop the compact nine millimeter into her hand in less than fiveseconds.
“Your name’s not on the birth certificates. You gonna go to court and petition for a DNA test to prove you’re the sperm donor?” Maybe she shouldn’t taunt him, but she had an overwhelming urge to shoot him and she needed him to take a swing at her first. Wanted fugitive or not, it probably wouldn’t be viewed favorably if she shot him just because he wasyelling.
His fists clenched and she released her arms, ready to grab her gun. Something crashed in the back. Eddie glanced at the door over her shoulder, then pushed back from thecounter.
“It’s a nice place you’ve got here, Denise. Done real good for yourself. That old barn’s probably got some really dry wood. Be a shame if something happened to it. No telling what burnt dog smells like.” He turned on his heel and pushed through thedoor.
Fucker. She should have shot him. She pulled her phone out of herpocket.
Emily came in the door behind her. “I called the police when I heard the bang,” she said. “I’m sorry I stayed backthere.”
Denise shot her what she hoped was a reassuring look. “It’s alright,Emily.”
“Who are youcalling?”
She put the phone to her ear. “FBI.”
Chapter 12
The police were still talkingto Emily when Chris arrived with another man. He broke off and joined the two police officers and Emily while Chris approachedher.
It was wrong and went against every fiber of her being, but she wanted him to hug her. Take her in his arms, pull her into a tight hug, and tell her everything would be alright. She was not that girl who needed to be coddled and have her problems solved. The thought alone triggered her gag reflex, so what the hell was wrong withher?
He stopped close, his fingers reaching for her face before he seemed to think better of it and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Youokay?”
“Asshole threatened my dogs. No, I’m not okay. I’m pissed the fuck off.” She used her residual anger to beat down the softer emotions trying to float to thesurface.
A slow smile formed on his lips and a different kind of heat diffused through her body. She hadn’t seen him since the morning after the funeral. He’d kissed his way up her back and told her to call him if she needed him for anything. She hadn’t until today. Maybe she should have found areason.
