PROLOGUE
Fifteen Years Ago
It was a perfect day for a wedding on the beach. The blazing sun already had the temperature in the high eighties, but the cool breeze blowing in off the Atlantic made the August heat bearable, even pleasant, for the few barefooted guests. The soft, rhythmic sound of the waves, punctuated with seagull cries, made the perfect backdrop for the exchange of undying love.
The bride had just finished her vows to love, honor, and cherish her new husband. As the minister turned to the groom, a large group of seabirds landed a short distance down the beach, capturing his eye. As the birds pecked the sand, oblivious to the solemn ceremony taking place behind them, the groom became visibly distracted, unable to look away from the birds. The minister saw the groom’s attention waning and hurried to speed up the proceedings.
“Do you…” But it was too late. The groom glanced at the minister, then at the bride, his eyes filled with a mixture of resignation and guilt. With one last glance and an unspoken apology, he took off at a dead run down the beach.
“Darn you, Buster!” the minister called out after him. “You’ve ruined the whole ceremony.”
The minister, thirteen-year-old Maggie Tucker, plopped down next to the bride and gave her a reassuring pat on the head. “Don’t worry, Snowball. Not all grooms are stupid enough to leave such a pretty girl at the altar.”
Already upset over the toilet paper veil tied loosely around her head and neck, the orange and white calico flashed Maggie a look of disdain. This cat had had enough. Pawing at her head, she ripped the fine paper to shreds. Dignity regained, she made her escape, scurrying off to who knew where.
Buster sent all the birds flying off at once but continued to bark until the area was entirely vacated. His duty done, he trotted back up the beach and lay down next to her. She knew he was sorry, knew he couldn’t help but chase the birds. But she’d planned a beautiful wedding, and he’d ruined it. She turned to scold him, but one look into those big, brown eyes, and she melted. “Ding-a-ling,” she said, rubbing his head.
Maggie glanced at the disappointed audience, a ten-inch tortoise named Shell and a brown and white gerbil named Harry. Shell poked his head out to see what all the commotion was about, while Harry slept soundly in his plastic exercise ball.
A lock of long, brown hair blew free of Maggie’s hastily made ponytail, and she tucked the wayward strand behind her ear. She stood and brushed the sand off her cut-off shorts and baggy, pink T-shirt.
“Sorry, guys. Wedding’s over.” Resigned, she slipped into her flip-flops, grabbed Shell in one hand, cupped Harry with the other, and started up the hill for the short walk back to the house. Buster brought up the rear, tail wagging, thoroughly satisfied with himself. Snowball would reappear eventually. After the shame of a toilet paper veil wore off.
Maggie had been coming to her grandparents’ beach house in the Hamptons ever since she could remember. Her grandfather told her he bought it to have a place large and comfortable enough for the entirety of their obscenely large family to gather and spend time together.
She entered the enormous kitchen just as her mother was pulling a batch of cinnamon rolls from one of four ovens. What luck.
“Hi, honey. How’d the ceremony go?”
“Not so great,” she muttered, setting Harry and Shell on the floor. “Buster’s going to be single forever.” She laughed. “Oh well, I can try again tomorrow.”
“I love your positive attitude,” her mother said with a smile. “Aunt Jenny’s wedding was really something, huh?”
“Oh, Mom. It was the greatest night ever. The food, the dancing. I’m so happy for her.”
The wedding had been days earlier, but Maggie continued to bask in the magic of it all. Aunt Jenny married a New York City police officer named Jimmy Johnson. He was handsome and funny, and Maggie could tell by the way he looked at Jenny that he really loved her a lot. When it came time to cut the cake, she’d wiggled her way to the front of the crowd and stood perfectly still watching Jimmy and Jenny neatly feed each other cake and toast champagne to a life full of happiness together. She just knew Mr. and Mrs. Jimmy Johnson would live happily ever after.
“Yes. It was perfect.” Her mother plated a cinnamon roll and put it in front of her on the counter with a glass of cold milk. “I’m glad you had such a good time.”
Maggie slipped and almost fell while trying to mount the high stool but rebounded quickly. Holding up a hand to indicate she was fine, she picked up the sticky roll. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”
CHAPTER ONE
Mitch MacDonald sat outside his lieutenant’s office for the second time in as many weeks. He was unsure what he’d done this time but figured this wasn’t a social call.
“Geez, Mac, you in trouble again? Weren’t you just here yesterday?” a sergeant from an uptown squad said with a teasing grin.
“Fuck off, Sanchez.” Mitch tried to smile but fell short. “It was last week, and it’s probably just the same ol’ bullshit.”
A few days ago, they’d ripped him a new one for bringing in a drunk with a huge, purple bruise on his forehead. The drunk claimed Mitch had done it on purpose, but it wasn’t his fault the guy had been so drunk he couldn’t get into the patrol car without bashing in his own head.
It was only Tuesday, and he’d already had another “disagreement” with his current partner, Lance. Lance was an annoying tattletale and probably had something to do with why he’d been summoned. He definitely wasn’t in the mood for another ass reaming so soon after the last.
Whatever it was, he’d talk his way out of it like he always did. He tipped his head back against the glass, closed his eyes, and waited for the LT to call him in.
He’d never had to deal with all this bullshit when Jimmy was alive. God, he missed him.
“MacDonald?” Lieutenant John Brown bellowed as he hung up the phone. “I’m ready for you. Get in here and take a seat.” Lieutenant Brown had been the LT at the NYPD 14th Precinct for over ten years and had been there the day Mitch arrived as a brand-new rookie. He was old enough to be Mitch’s father, and at times like this, he felt like a kid again.
