Truth & Tenderness (24 page)

Griffin’s jaw dropped. “She went back to him after everything?”

Matt and Jim exchanged a glance that Griffin couldn’t read. “We don’t know exactly what’s going on here.”

They all sat in silence for a moment. Griffin contemplated the girl who couldn’t seem to divorce herself from a dangerous, toxic man.

“And on the subject of what we can handle, we’re thinking of heading to the Hamptons house,” Matt said. “It’s the only location where we know the codes are completely safe. Only Bennett and I know them.”

“Oh, okay.” Griffin rubbed his hands on his pants. “Should I—should I go? Or go home?”

“Not home. Not yet. You should go with Daisy and Sadie.” Jim slid into the space next to him. “I’ll feel better if you’re there.”

Griffin put on a brave face as he reached for Jim’s hand. “You too, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Jim, you need to start carrying,” Matt said. “At least until Tripp’s found. I’m going to head out tonight, double-check the house. Then you guys come out tomorrow morning.”

Jim made a noise of agreement as Griffin twitched at the thought.

“So fucking cloak and dagger,” Griffin sighed, laying his head on Jim’s shoulder. “I just want it done.”

J
IM
TOOK
Griffin into one of the guest rooms as Matt took over speaking to Bennett and Daisy about their plan. All of them looked like exhausted wrung-out pieces of shit, and Griffin had a whole second of guilt over using his big eyes and pout to make Jim go, “I’ll be back—Griffin’s got a headache. Let me get him into bed.”

It might have been patronizing, but frankly, Griffin didn’t give a shit. He wanted some quiet time with his fiancé.

“Gonna be honest, not in the mood,” Griffin joked tiredly as he flopped on the bed.

Jim didn’t laugh. He avoided looking at Griffin, prowling the room like a cat in search of an exit.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, I did. I brought him back into our lives,” Jim muttered.

“You’re trying to help people. I bet those families wish they knew what happened to their daughters.” Griffin frowned. “Maybe now they will.”

Jim’s smile was tentative, but Griffin knew he’d gotten through. He opened his arms for Jim to join him.

“We’re going to get married,” Griffin said soothingly as Jim settled against him. “That douche bag is going to jail. And we’re going to be okay.”

T
HE
HOUSEKEEPER
let Evan into the penthouse.

“In the study,” he was told when he showed up at the front door and asked where to find Matt—easier said than done in the sprawling space.

“Hey.”

Evan stopped in yet another hallway, turning to find Matt standing a few feet away. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t have any clue where the study was.”

“It’s fine.”

The stilted tone worried Evan. He walked toward Matt, who began moving away. They eventually settled into the study, both on the sofa, neither looking the other in the eye.

“So,” Matt began. “Helena said you had some visitors.”

Oh.

Evan took a breath, then let it out. Helena was either being chatty or meddling—he would address that next time he saw her. Right now, though, his concentration was on Matt. And how there was no way to say these things and not set off Matt’s anger. “They want the press to settle down. They want me to restore order. They, uh—they want you and Jim out of the papers. You’re bad press for the precinct.”

Evan watched Matt’s anger bloom, from his posture to the flush of his skin to the line his mouth flattened into. He braced himself for the explosion.

But none came.

“That didn’t take long, to drag me into it,” Matt said quietly.

“No, it didn’t.” Evan touched his arm. “We need to make a decision.”

“Not right now.”

Evan took Matt’s hand in his. “When this is done,” he murmured.

E
VAN
DRAGGED
himself home at eleven. He’d sat next to Matt earlier as they called the kids—even Katie in Boston, where she was all but hopping on a bus to get home. They reassured them and kept a positive attitude, both of them faking it through each conversation. Miranda had picked up after Danny and Elizabeth had had their turn; she and Kent were settling in until further notice and planning on blowing all the grocery money on pie and ice cream.

“Dad?” Miranda called softly. She came down the stairs in her nightgown and a robe.

Evan, in all his tiredness, blinked until she stopped looking so much like Sherri. “Hey, sweetheart. How’s everything?”

“Fine. Danny and Elizabeth were okay when I sent them to bed. They’re worried about Matt, though.”

Evan kicked off his shoes as he settled into the recliner. “Me too.”

“That story in the paper was rude and unnecessary.” Miranda came around to sit on the sofa. “Did you tell anyone to shove off?”

Rubbing his forehead with his palm, Evan laughed. “No. Came close, though. Some of the higher-ups don’t much care for him.”

Miranda frowned. “Is that a problem with your job?”

“Yeah.”

They sat quietly for a few moments. Then Miranda shifted on the sofa. “I know I’m the last person in the world you want to hear talk about this, but—if you and Matt are going to be together for, like, the rest of your lives, don’t you think your job should be okay with him?”

“I thought they were. I thought he was part of the reason they picked me,” Evan said, the words bitter on his tongue. “But it seems like they want a cardboard cutout with a label underneath.”

“That’s not really you,” Miranda laughed. “Like, at all.”

“Thank you.” Evan slid down in the chair, resting his head back. “So, Miranda, in your opinion as a young adult who is just starting on her career: Should I turn my back on the thing I’ve done my whole adult life for the person I love? Or do I suck it up and bite the inside of my mouth when they say stupid things to me?”

“Oh!” Miranda appeared to think about the question quite intently. “Well, I guess it depends. Do you love Matt more than your job?”

“I can’t really compare the two. Different types of love.”

“Like Matt and Mom,” she said lightly.

Evan moved his head to look at her. “No. Matt and Mom, that’s one side of the spectrum. With you and the rest of the kids. My job is… it’s the thing that helped me support my family and accomplish something with my life.”

“Oh,” Miranda said again. “Then everyone on that side with the family—they don’t care what you do for a living.”

“True.”

“Do you care what you do for a living?”

Evan rolled that around his brain. Yes, he did care. The shield, the uniform, the oath—they meant something. And if that didn’t reach the height of how much he loved his family, it did resonate within him.

He wanted to protect people. He wanted to serve.

The only thing he wanted more was for his family to be content and together.

“What do you think Mom would have said?” Evan asked suddenly. “Same advice?”

“I’d like to think she’d say the same thing. But….” Miranda looked away for a moment. “Sometimes I think she sorta hated your job, if I’m honest.”

“The hours, the stress,” Evan murmured, remembering the fights. The silence.

“You getting crazy focused on your work and forgetting stuff around the house. Made her freaking nuts sometimes.” Miranda shivered a little before gathering the blanket on the back of the sofa to lay over her legs. “But she got over it. Got up and went through the next day. Some things are worth putting up with crap for.”

“Mom was good like that.” Evan struggled for a moment, then sat up. “Thanks, Miranda, for the good advice. I appreciate it.”

Miranda smiled brightly. “You’re welcome.”

E
VAN
KISSED
Miranda good night before going into his own room. He tossed everything into the corner. He just wanted to sleep.

What he did was dream.

C
AFFEINE
FUELED
Matt’s drive out to the Hamptons. It was late enough to erase the traffic issue, early enough in the season to avoid crowds. He pulled into the driveway at half past eleven, his headlights the only illumination for miles.

“Not creepy or anything,” Matt muttered to himself. He pulled out a heavy-duty flashlight and took it with him when he stepped out of the SUV.

In the distance he heard the crashing waves of the ocean, and he smelled the briny scent on the breeze. Swinging the flashlight around, he checked the driveway and the path to the stairs. No footprints or evidence someone had walked here recently.

He walked slowly toward the stairs, swinging the light across the house. The second-floor windows, then the first. The corners of the house.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

At the top of the stairs, Matt paused again. He ran the flashlight everywhere a deep shadow sat, but still, nothing caught his attention.

He used his set of keys to open the front door. From the time he stepped over the threshold until he got to the alarm panel, he had five seconds before 911 would be alerted and the police dispatched.

Front door to panel, Matt took three long strides and keyed in the eight-digit code that identified him as entering.

The quiet darkness of the house settled over Matt. He held his breath and listened, alert for anything that told him he wasn’t alone.

Nothing.

Matt continued into the kitchen, then the small room tucked behind the pantry so as to be almost invisible. There, he turned on the only light he would need—the overhead fixture in the room that housed the security equipment.

“H
EY
,
IT
’
S
me.”

Jim yawned as he checked his watch. “Everything okay?”

“House is clear. I checked the footage. No one’s been out here but the caretaker. There’s also a squirrel who seems determined to break in through the kitchen window by any means necessary, but that’s it.”

“Great. I’m going to get everyone in the car and we’ll see you in about two hours.” Jim swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching as he went.

“Coffee’ll be ready.”

“It better be.”

T
HE
PARKING
garage provided excellent coverage. Jim watched the entrance as Bennett tucked Griffin, Daisy, and a sleeping Sadie into the backseat. He’d offered to come with them, but Daisy refused. She needed some space, and Bennett needed to get his house in order.

All his pleading eyes and soft apologies were also driving Griffin crazy, and no one wanted him in the same place as Bennett.

“They’re ready to go,” Bennett said, coming to stand at his side. “I, uh, I could follow in another car.”

“No, you couldn’t, because then my fiancé would punch you in the face.” Jim gave Bennett a cool stare. “And I would probably do the same. Back off, okay? You’re never going to get her back if you keep smothering her.”

Bennett nodded. Then a sad smile crossed his lips. “I spent a lot of time being paranoid about someone hurting her, and then it turned out to be me who did it.”

“That sounds very poetic, but the bottom line is you fucked around. Maybe think about that.” Jim didn’t wait for an answer—he just really wanted to get the hell out of there.

I
N
THE
limo, Daisy conked out before they even crossed the bridge. Jim played with his phone as Griffin drifted in and out of sleep against his shoulder.

More than anything, he wanted to protect Griffin and, by extension, the people Griffin loved. Bringing Tripp back into their lives like this—he’d had no idea the Pandora’s Box he was opening by looking for a way to appease his guilt.

He should have known better.

The FBI was on the case; detectives from numerous cities were combing through their files, looking for links between cold cases and Tripp Ingersoll. Jim had done his job—more than his job. His guilt over the Kellys and not delivering them justice could be assuaged.