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Authors: Denise Grover Swank

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BOOK: Picking Up the Pieces
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He stared at the unopened beer in his hand as if deciding whether he was going to stay long enough to justify opening it. “Rose doesn’t know. No one does. Not even my mother.”

That surprised me…and then it didn’t. Mason Deveraux was a master at releasing information at just the right time during a trial. It made sense he’d do the same in real life. Tonight was proof enough of that.

“I’ve offered to give Rose the money to buy you out, but it’s going to take a couple of weeks to get it. I want you to tell her you’ve changed your mind and you don’t want to be a partner.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head and making my forehead throb. “Because I
do
want to be a partner.”

“You and I both know you have no legal right to any say in the nursery.”

I pressed the cool bottle to the growing knot on my brow. “And you and I both know she’s going to give it to me anyway. Isn’t that part of the reason you’re here?”

Mason set his bottle on the side table with a bang. “You’re a selfish son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. There was no denying I had my own reasons for what I’d done, almost all of them selfish.

“Joe,” his tone softened. “You’ve got your hands full with your ex-fiancée and her pregnancy. Please, just leave Rose alone. All she wants is a little peace. Her life has been nothing but chaos since her mother was killed. How much upheaval can one person take?”

“I know you find it hard to believe, Deveraux, but I love her. She’s my everything.”

“If you care so much about her, why aren’t you doing anything to protect her from your father?”

I sucked in a breath, my anger simmering. He’d hated my father since he met him last year at a fundraiser I’d attended with Savannah.

I hated my father too, but I also knew what he was capable of doing to those who had stood up to him.

Whenever my father plotted to take someone down, he left a trail of devastation so tightly orchestrated even investigators using a microscope could never tie it back to him. He wielded his power on the highest of political officials as well as the lowliest members of the house staff. J.R. Simmons was a man of extremes. He was either your best friend or your worst enemy. There was no middle ground. And no one wanted to be in the path of his wrath.

When I was eight, I eavesdropped on my father as he berated an employee for losing money on an investment. I’d watched in horror and fascination as the man cried and pleaded for my father’s mercy. But I learned that day my father didn’t believe in mercy. “I will ruin you,” he said, and then he fired the man and sent him out the door. Within seconds of the employee leaving, my father called the bank and convinced them to find a way to foreclose on the man’s home.

My father didn’t bat an eye before destroying anyone who got in his way. But if I toed the line, there was nothing to worry about.

I shook my head.
“As long as I’m not running for office, she’s fine.”

Mason stood. “Are you even listening to what you’re saying? Leaving that threat hanging over her head is like playing Russian roulette. You’re seriously going to do that?”

I jumped to my feet. “What the hell do you want me to do, Deveraux? My hands are tied!”

His eyes hardened. “You claim to love her—prove it. I’m going to stop him. If you care anything about her, help me do it.”


What?
You’re going to take on my father? Are you crazy? Do you have the slightest idea of what he’s capable of?”

Mason’s expression softened and his eyes pleaded with me. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I love her too. It makes me crazy to think about her being sent to prison—even for a day—because of your father’s lies. I’d give up everything and drag her halfway around the world to protect her from your father, but she’d never agree to leave her family and friends.”

“Save the drama for the courtroom, Deveraux. I would never let that happen.”

“How could you stop it?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t
have
an answer. Anyone who tried to defy him was crushed.

“Joe, something bad is about to happen. I can feel it. Your father’s going to use his weapon, and I need to be prepared to stop him.” He paused. “Help me.”

“No. You’re crazy.”

“Then I’ll do it without you.” He turned and headed for the door.

“Leave it alone, Mason,” I called after him. “If my father even catches wind that you’re up to something, he’ll blow it all to kingdom come. That will hurt her even worse.”

“Not if I get to him first.”

Chapter Eleven

Rose

 

I knew something was wrong even before Mason glanced at his phone after dinner, then said he was going into the office. But I watched him walk out the door certain there was nothing I could do about it. I also suspected it had something to do with Joe, but I wasn’t sure what to do about that either. So I wasn’t surprised when Violet called me about thirty minutes later.

“Did you know Mason’s at Joe’s house right now?”

My stomach twisted in knots. “No.”

“They were out on his front porch causing a commotion, so I went over to check it out. Both of their faces were bleeding, so I think they got into some kind of a scuffle.”

“Bad?” I forced out.

“No. Mason’s lip and Joe’s eyebrow. And they weren’t fightin’ when I got over there. They weren’t saying
anything
. They acted like they were waiting for me to leave.”

“Is Mason still there?”

“Yeah. Joe said he and Mason were done hitting each other, but they had some things to work out. Then they disappeared into Joe’s house.”

“Do you hear them shoutin’?”

“No, but Miss Mildred’s about to fall out her window screen trying to figure out what’s goin’ on.” She paused. “Oh, wait. Mason’s leaving now. You know, for a guy with a busted leg, he’s sure getting around.”

“Yeah…” My stomach was a mess with nerves.

“Rose, I’m really scared for you.”


Why?
” What did she know that I didn’t?

“This is twice in one week that Mason has been part of a physical fight.”

“Both times with Joe,” I added. “He provokes him.”

“The first time Joe never lifted a finger. We were both witnesses.”

“For all we know Joe threw the first punch this time,” I said.

“Rose,” Violet said slowly, as though she was explaining something to Mikey. “Mason showed up on Joe’s doorstep. He instigated this.” She hesitated. “And I know he put those bruises on your arm. Deny it.”

I paused. What could I say? I didn’t want to lie to her. “He had a nightmare and grabbed me. He didn’t mean to hurt me and was horrified when he realized what had happened.” Oh, Lord. What had I done? Why had I admitted that to Violet of all people? “You can’t tell Joe.”

“Rose, Joe is a deputy sheriff now and you live outside of city limits. The sheriff is who you call for domestic violence cases.”

“Good heavens, Violet! Just let it go! I told you it was an accident.”

“I want you to promise me something.” She sounded worried and serious. “If Mason ever threatens you or he hurts you, I want you to call Joe.”

“Not you?” I asked in a snotty tone. How dare she think so badly of Mason!

“No. I might not be able to help you. But Joe can. Promise me.”

Her request was utterly ridiculous, but I could hear tears in her voice, and I wanted to ease her mind. “Okay. I promise.”

“Thank you. I know you have a hard time believing it, but I really do love you. I’ve just done a bad job of showing it lately.”

“I love you too.”

“I’m gonna try to be a better sister. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re stuck with me as a sister for life. We’ll talk more about the business next week.”

I hung up and helped Maeve finish cleaning up the kitchen.

“My real estate agent called and asked me to meet him at the house tomorrow morning before I head back to Little Rock,” she said as she dried the crock pot lid. “I thought you might like to come see it.”

“I’d love to. I’m so excited that you’re moving to Henryetta.”

“Me too.” She beamed at me. “I’m supposed to meet the Realtor at eleven to go over some things from the inspection, but if you join me there at around eleven-fifteen, I’ll show you around. It’s tiny, so it won’t take long.”

“It sounds wonderful. And I want to help you get moved and settled.”

Muffy started whining, then released a cloud of poisonous gas. “Goodness, Muffy,” I choked out, waving my hand in front of my face as Maeve started coughing. “I’ve tried eight different dog foods and I swear your stench is getting worse.” I tossed my dish towel onto the counter and headed for the front door. “Let’s go outside, Muff, although I hope we don’t kill off any plant life. You’re like a mini-Chernobyl.”

I grabbed my coat as Muffy ran past me through the door and out to the yard. I sat on the front steps and watched her make a nasty pile by a dead bush at the corner of the house. She wasn’t in a hurry to go in and neither was I since I was so nervous about what Mason had been up to so I watched her romp around. Ten minutes later, Mason’s headlights appeared in the driveway. He pulled the car to a stop in front of the old farmhouse and got out, his leg dragging as he walked toward the porch.

He stopped in front of me, resignation on his face. “Violet called you.”

I nodded, then bolted off the step and threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

His back was tense, but as soon as he realized I wasn’t going to berate him, he pulled me tight against him and sighed, rustling the hair by my ear.

“What happened?”

“I think we’ve reached a truce of sorts.”

I pulled back to look up at his face. I could see his busted lip even in the dim porch light. “What does that mean?”

“For the moment, it means we probably won’t feel like beating the crap out of each other whenever we’re in the same room.”

“That’s a start, I guess.”

“True enough.” He grinned, then winced at the way it jarred his injured lip.

“I’m glad to hear that you two aren’t going to be brawling in public places.” I rubbed my thumb under his lip. “You have such a handsome face and I hate to see it messed up. Not to mention it gets in the way of me kissing you.” I stretched up and placed a gentle kiss on the opposite corner of his mouth.

“You’re not mad?”

“That you went to see Joe? No. I’m not surprised you did after finding out about his investment.”

He sighed, sounding weary. “You’re worth every bit of conflict I have to endure with Joe Simmons.”

“Anything I need to know about from your meeting other than that you both got hit?”

He paused. “He’s dead-set on being a partner even though he knows he has no legal claim to your business. He refused to let me buy him out.”

I started to protest, but he stopped me. “I had to try, Rose. I’m sorry.”

“I know.” It surprised me that he’d tried to buy out Joe after promising to leave the matter up to my judgment. But he’d already confessed how worried he was about losing me, so I couldn’t be too mad. It was actually encouraging to know that Mason, who always did what was right, had a few flaws. And of course, while he’d told what amounted to a white lie, I’d helped crown the new crime king of Fenton County. “It’s okay.”

“I want to reiterate that you don’t have to let him have any say, but I know you…and you will. But I’m begging you to please ask me if you need any more help.”

“I
do
want your help—I already told you I do—and you’ll probably get sick to death of me pestering you for your opinion. I have a lot of decisions to make, and I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed.”

He grinned, getting a mischievous look in his eye. “If you’re gonna kill me by overwhelming me, I’d rather you do it in our bed.”

I laughed. “I’d rather not kill you at all, but that does sound like a promising challenge.”

He tugged me closer and whispered in my ear, his voice husky, “Then we
definitely
need to go upstairs.”

Later as I lay in Mason’s arms after he’d gone to sleep, I was certain not telling him about the Lady in Black was the right thing to do.

Perhaps it was for the best. I should keep her in the closet, stuffed into the back where she belonged.

Chapter Twelve

Joe

 

After several days of sleepless nights spent thinking about Rose, and the handful of occasions we’d spent time together in the house where I now lived alone, I knew I couldn’t stay there. But that night, I tossed and turned for a different reason—my sleep was haunted with memories of Savannah.

It would have been easy to throw all the blame of our breakup on Hilary, but I realized I had to take responsibility for it too. Just like I had to take responsibility for Savannah’s death. And the baby’s. I hadn’t loved Savannah, not like I loved Rose, but I’d cared about her. I owed her something. The fact that she was dead and I couldn’t do one damn thing to help her was obvious, but the desire to atone for my sins kept me awake.

I had Saturday off. I considered making arrangements to clean up the nursery, but I wanted to talk to Rose first. She would hopefully be more receptive now that she’d had the chance to cool down, but if she was dead set against it, I’d back off, despite what I’d led Mason to believe. Still, I wasn’t about to tell her that and give her an easy out. I really did want to be part of the business. I’d play it by ear.

Instead, I called a real estate agent and asked her to line up a list of houses for sale both in Henryetta city limits and outside. She called back half an hour later with a short list and gave me the first address, telling me to meet her there at eleven.

I pulled up in front of a house that looked like a cottage, surprised to see two other cars out front. As I walked up to the door, I saw that it was cracked open and heard voices inside.

I pushed my way inside and looked around. The house was cute—matching the cottage exterior. Most of the furnishings had been removed. All I could see was a beat-up arm chair by the fireplace with a small table and lamp—most likely a pathetic attempt to stage the house—and a small kitchen table with four chairs.

BOOK: Picking Up the Pieces
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