“But you also don’t want to put yourself or the girls in more danger.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? I took us out of the house, even stopping by way of Stacy’s place, so I could be sure I wasn’t followed. And I’ll continue to be careful.”
“You won’t go off and search for anything without me?”
“Of course not.”
“Does this mean you’re ready to take this to the police?” He pointed to the messenger bag that rested in the corner, next to their duffels. “Maybe to Police Chief Larry Gilman? He seems like an okay guy.”
“Not yet. We still don’t know if anyone at the police department is hiding something. Or at Station 1. Someone has information. We have to figure out who and what’s in it for them to hide it. And we need to know who is connected to Bilton, besides Stan.”
Mick watched her for several seconds longer, close to him physically though her thoughts seemed so far away. She had to be dissecting every memory from her childhood, trying to separate truth from lies. He stared at her gripped hands, longing to touch her, comfort her and ease the pain of a loss that no one could ever make right.
“There’d be no shame in just walking away,” he said. “You and Riley could take the girls and go somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”
He had to force himself not to suggest that she should include him in that relocation plan. One big happy family where he was still the unwanted guest, trying to squeeze in. She probably didn’t want him for more than a temporary distraction, and even if she did, the timing couldn’t have been worse. “You could let Mount Isabel rot in its own filth.”
“No shame in it, huh?”
When she looked over at him again, she wore a sad smile. But she planted her slipper-clad feet on the floor and lifted her chin. “You know I can’t walk away, don’t you?”
He hated it, but he did know. Her motivation for searching might have changed, but she was no less determined to find answers than she’d been that first night he’d met her. She’d longed to right a wrong then, and her innate sense of justice wouldn’t let her turn her back on the questions, even when the answers hurt.
“I have to do this for Riley. For my girls.” She took a deep breath. “If I did nothing, I’d be no better than… Stan.”
As Rachel’s voice broke on the last word, Mick couldn’t hold back any longer. He wrapped both her hands in the circle of his, and when that wasn’t enough, he leaned closer and pulled her to him. At first, she held her body soldier straight in his arms, determined not to need him, but he held on, his grip loose as he let her decide. She softened against him in tiny increments, first arms, then shoulders, then neck. He could hardly breathe as she lowered her head near his collarbone, allowing him to comfort her over a hurt he could never heal.
“Even if we find out that your father did all the things written on those papers, and I’m praying we won’t, you have to know you’re not like him. Not like him,” he whispered against her temple and then touched that spot he’d warmed with his lips. When she didn’t push him away, he kissed her brow bone. Then the apple of her cheek. It took him three more stops to reach his sweet destination. But just as he covered her lips with his own, she smiled against his mouth and then eased back. His hands still gripped her elbows since he couldn’t let go.
“You don’t know that. There’s still so much you don’t know about me.”
He dipped his head and stared into her eyes. “I know enough.”
“There were good things about him,” she whispered, and then jerked her head back. “I don’t know why I said that. Maybe, like you, I’m still hoping to find proof that he’s innocent of at least some of the crimes. Is that silly?”
Mick shook his head, the complexity of parent-child relationships never lost on him. He waited for her to describe her internal battle further, but she only slumped back in the chair.
“Not silly at all. There had to be many good things in your dad,” he said. “Because they’re in you. And the girls. Your brother, too, I’m guessing.”
He blinked as something she’d said earlier replayed in his head. Louder. Its message more distinct. “Before, you said these guys wanted to scare you into silence. Is it possible you and Riley aren’t the only people they wanted to frighten?”
Rachel started shaking her head, but Mick’s idea had already taken root in his mind.
“Now hear me out. We both know your father might not have been completely innocent.” He pointed to the bag. “All those papers at least show he was involved. But can’t two things be true at once? Even if your dad wanted to confess, could he have kept quiet to protect you and your brother? Could someone have threatened your safety to keep him from going to the police?”
“Maybe. That’s assuming he wanted to confess.”
“There’s a confession right there in that bag.”
She leaned forward in the chair and crossed her arms. “Which you said might have been coerced. Even then, he never gave it to the police.”
“He could have wanted to tell his version of the story. But there might have been a reason he didn’t. Ortwoof them.”
Rachel dragged her front teeth over her bottom lip as she stared at her hands. She clearly wanted to believe he could be right but was afraid to hope.
“Do you really think he deserves the benefit of the doubt?”
“Of course I do.” He leaned forward and rested his hands on her forearms, bracing himself for the possibility that she would pull away from him again. That she would reject the reassurance he longed to offer her as much as she needed to accept it. “Don’t we all deserve that?”
