Maggie hesitated. She had developed a strong distrust of cops since Phillip’s murder. Her mind screamed at her to be careful. Don’t give too much away. Then she shot a glance at Lieutenant Willis. Her eyes caught on the bloody towel still draped across his shoulder and her heart clenched. He had taken that knife wound for her. Would he have put himself in harm’s way to protect her if he were on her enemy’s side? Her glance flicked back to the towel, then to his wounded side. Although the wound was hidden, she could see that he was holding himself stiffly. She recalled that he had refused to be medicated, despite being in pain. He’d told the paramedics that he needed to stay alert, to stand guard over her and her children. That decided it for her. She would trust them...to a point. She wouldn’t reveal everything. Not until she knew for sure she could trust them.
“I kept my maiden name, so yes, my last name is still Slade.” Let them think what they wanted about that.
Chief Garraway nodded. “Okay. Ms. Slade, we have gone over your history with a fine-tooth comb. There is no evidence that you were recently married. Or that you have ever been married.”
Maggie threw her hands in the air. She whirled and paced to the window. Still cautious, she remained to the side of the curtained panes and glanced beneath the blinds. When she was calm enough to speak, she pivoted and fused her gaze with the chief’s. “We married in Las Vegas, on a whim. We filed for a license and then went to a chapel. There’s no waiting in Vegas.”
“Las Vegas? You mean like Elvis? Why would you do that?” Her hackles rose at the poorly disguised scorn in Lieutenant Willis’s voice.
“Yes, Las Vegas. What’s wrong with that?” Maggie tossed her head. How dare that man judge her? “Lots of people get married there. It’s completely legal.”
She wanted to wince at the petulance she heard in her own voice. She should stop talking. She didn’t need to explain her actions to him. But for some reason his scorn really got to her.
“I don’t care about why you got married in Las Vegas,” the chief asserted, throwing a silencing glare at her lieutenant. “You could have gone to the moon for all I care. But there should have been some trace of a marriage license in your records. And I’m also concerned that you are claiming to have witnessed a murder, yet you never came forward. I need to understand why. It’s obvious you’re in danger. Were you somehow involved in whatever happened to your husband? Is that why someone is after you now, why you were in hiding?”
Was she a suspect? Maggie’s eyes widened, and her breath hitched in alarm. Never once had she dreamed that she could be facing charges. She found it ironic that after being a juror who had convicted a woman six years ago for murder, she could face jail time for a similar crime. She shuddered.
“I haven’t done anything wrong! I was running for my life!”
“Relax. We’re just trying to figure this out. You have to admit, your actions are suspicious.”
Maggie whirled to face the tall lieutenant, who was even now observing her, his eyes narrowed. His mouth was a hard line slashed across his handsome face. “I had nothing to do with his murder...” She stopped. What if it had been her fault? She had wondered that often during the past eighteen months.
“Something tells me you’re not sure of that.”
Maggie stared at him, a wave of helplessness pounding into her. Rory dropped his pacifier and startled, whimpering as he awoke.
“Maggie, why don’t you get your children settled. Then we will talk. But I warn you, I expect you to tell me everything.”
She was cornered. In her own living room. It was too bad she and God weren’t on speaking terms. She could really use someone in her corner about now.
With a stiff nod, she turned away from the officers invading her home and went to get Rory and Siobhan settled in their cribs. Fortunately, they both were exhausted and settled down to sleep without fuss. For several minutes, she stood over them, her chest tight as she fought to control her anxiety. Whatever happened, she couldn’t go to jail. What would happen to them? Foster care? Maybe they’d even be separated.
A shadow blocked out the hallway light briefly before moving aside. Startled, she looked up. Lieutenant Willis stood in the doorway. His expressionless face gave no clue as to what he was thinking.
“Are you about ready?” His cool tone hit her like a whip. She straightened her spine and moved toward him, pausing until he stepped aside to allow her to precede him. Chief Garraway was on her cell phone pacing in front of the kitchen door while she listened to the person on the other end. She held up her finger as she spotted them. Maggie walked to the love seat and dropped down. She pulled her legs up onto the seat and hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin against them.
“I want to know as soon as his lawyer arrives. We need to get this situation under control...Sounds good.” Covering the mouthpiece of the phone, she whispered to Lieutenant Willis, “The perp is waiting for his lawyer. Hopefully he will turn on whoever hired him.”
The love seat shifted slightly as Lieutenant Willis lowered himself down beside her. She shifted closer to her side as inconspicuously as she could. Considering the way he smirked at her, she wasn’t very successful. She forgot about her discomfort with his nearness as he rubbed his side, grimacing.
“Are you okay, Lieutenant?” she whispered, casting a glance at the chief, who wasn’t paying any attention to them. “I could get you some ice or a heating pad. I’m not really sure which would be better.”
He sighed. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”
Which of course meant he didn’t want her to fuss over him. She rolled her eyes. “Men.”
“What do you mean, men?”
“Get a knife wound, and it’s nothing. Get a cold, and the world ends.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yeah, it is. My husband was all macho, but when he got a cold, he wanted to be babied. He was a horrible patient.”
“Speaking of your husband, it’s time we talked about what happened to him.”
Maggie jumped. She didn’t feel bad as she noticed the lieutenant did, too. Obviously, he wasn’t in top form. He apparently hadn’t noticed his commanding officer approaching them, either.
She shook her head. She just needed to get through this. Drawing a deep lungful of air to steel herself, Maggie turned to face the chief. Surprisingly, though, it was the lieutenant who spoke.
“The last information we have on you is that you started working at the LaMar Pond Journal as a fact-checker three years ago. About two years ago, you made an appointment to come talk with the police. You never kept that appointment. You sent an email stating you needed to reschedule. But you never did.”
Maggie blinked. Nodded. “Yes. I remember. I had forgotten about that.”
The man beside her sat forward, his expression intent. “I didn’t. I was the cop you made the appointment with. Until someone spotted you and called the missing persons hotline, I was looking for a body.”
* * *
It was petty, but there was some satisfaction in watching the shock widen her eyes. He hadn’t been joking. He had been sure she was dead.
“Why would you assume I was dead?” He hadn’t noticed the soft lilt in her voice before, just the softest touch of an Irish accent.
“Remember that case, the trial for Melanie Swanson?” He waited for her nod before continuing. “It turned out several of the jurors had been threatened to give a guilty verdict. Melanie was framed, and the real killers wanted to cover their tracks. A few of the blackmailed jurors eventually tried to come forward to tell the truth, and they were murdered. I thought you had been, too.”
He had a hollow feeling inside as he remembered thinking he had allowed one more life to slip through his