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Authors: Maggie Shayne

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BOOK: Thicker Than Water
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Julie frowned at him. “What, Sean? What is it?”

He met her eyes, then looked at Dawn. “Considering what's happened, kiddo, don't you think you ought to tell your mom about what you had in your backpack yesterday?”

She blinked at him, clearly unsure what he knew. Then Dawn's face seemed surprised and relieved at once. “You mean it was you?”

“Yeah,” Sean said. “Sorry I didn't tell you sooner, kid. I tried, but…” He just shook his head.

Julie fought a chill. What could MacKenzie possibly know about her daughter that she didn't? No one was closer to Dawn than she was. “Dawn, what is this all about?”

Dawn's lips thinned. “Okay. I…there are a couple of things
I haven't told you. First…the other night, the night of that party, when Kayla came over?” Julie nodded. “When she was out on the lawn, there was—I thought I saw something. Someone, I mean.”

“Someone?”

Dawn nodded. “In the bushes. Kind of watching. But then you opened the back door and told her to come inside, and he was gone, and I thought it was all in my head.” She shrugged. “It was probably nothing.”

My God, someone was stalking her daughter. Julie went to the telephone.

“What are you doing?” Dawn asked.

“Calling the police.”

Dawn moved closer, put her hand over her mother's on the phone. “Don't, Mom. There's more.”

Julie put the phone down and searched Dawn's face.

Dawn licked her lips, then glanced toward Sean. He gave her an encouraging nod. “I messed up, Mom, but I was only trying to help.” She lowered her eyes. “When I came home yesterday, I took out the trash. And there was…something in the trash can out in the garage.”

Julie frowned. “What?”

“A knife. It was a knife, and it had something on it that looked like…like blood.”

Julie's eyes widened. She shot a look at Sean, but he only shrugged and shook his head.

“I didn't know what to think. You were on the news talking about that man who'd been murdered. And I thought—I thought—”

Julie frowned. “You thought I might have had something to do with it?”

Dawn looked up slowly, tears brimming in her eyes. “I didn't know what to think. I just wanted to get rid of that thing until I could find out. I grabbed it out of the trash, wrapped it in a dish towel and crammed it into the bottom of my backpack.” She sniffed. “That's why I decided to walk home. I planned to throw it into the lake on the way. But…but when I looked in my bag, it was gone.”

“But, Dawnie, how could you think…” Julie shook her head slowly, then shifted her attention to Sean. “How did you know about this?”

“What do I look like, an amateur?” He walked into the kitchen, where the teakettle was whistling insistently, turned off the burner and calmly filled the three cups. “When we arrived to find the cops here, I noticed Dawn shove the backpack onto the floor of my car, out of sight. She went back out to get it after the police left. I knew there was something in there she didn't want them to see, so I took a look while you two were distracted by the lock guys.”

“It was none of your business, Sean.”

He lowered his head. “I know.”

“Then why did you do it?”

He shrugged. “I can't stand secrets.”

“So you were digging, just like always. Looking for dirt.”

He nodded. “Yeah. At first, that's exactly what I was doing. But now, I want to help.”

“You want to help,” she repeated. “My worst enemy wants to help me out of a bind.”

“I don't exactly see anyone else lining up and offering.”

“And I'm supposed to believe you've got no ulterior motive here? No angle to play?”

“If I did, I'd have written the story by now. I haven't. Hell,
I covered for you on the air tonight. If that's not enough to convince you, I don't know what is. You want an oath signed in blood or what?”

She pursed her lips, turning and pacing away from him. If it were anyone but him offering to help her, she might have taken them up on it. But him? God.

“Dawn thinks you're in trouble, Jones, and so do I.”

“He's right,” Dawn said. “Mom, I…I heard you on the phone that night. I heard that man giving you a hard time. And I heard you call him Harry. Then you left, in the middle of the night like that….”

“I did
not
kill Harry Blackwood,” Julie said. “My God, I can't believe you ever thought for one minute that I could be capable of murder.” She closed her eyes, fought for calm.

“I don't,” Dawn denied. “I believe you, Mom.”

“For what it's worth, I believe you, too.”

Julie shot Sean a look. “Right. Sure you do.”

“I do. I figure, if you were capable of murder, I'd be six feet under by now.”

“You'd be dust by now.”

He smiled a little. She took some small comfort in the brief, familiar sniping.

Sean said, “So what we deduce from this, is that someone planted the knife in your garage. That's the only other answer. Julie, your house keys were missing, remember? They must have used them to get in. The blade was planted here before the locks were changed.”

Dawn looked up fast. “The door was unlocked when I got home! I thought it was odd at the time, but I forgot, with everything else. God, Mom, do you think someone's trying to frame you for murder?”

Julie's head was spinning. “Stop, just stop.” She paced into the living room. “Dawn, this isn't the kind of thing you should be worrying about at your age. Trying to protect me, lying to the police, hiding what might be a murder weapon—no. No, this is not going to happen.” She paced, talking to herself. “I'm going to have to find somewhere safe for you, Dawn. To hide you until this is over. A private school maybe, or—”

“No!”

Dawn shouted the word so loudly that it stopped Julie in her tracks. She turned and saw her daughter standing in the kitchen doorway, tears brimming in her eyes, a cup of cocoa in one trembling hand. Sean gently took the mug from her.

“Baby, I have to protect you. That's got to be my first priority.”

“Mom, I'm sixteen years old. I'm tired of you always trying so hard to protect me from everything in the world. I'm not going anywhere, and if you try to send me away, I'll just leave and come right back. I swear I will.”

“Dawnie…”

“I can help,” she said. “Stop sheltering me as if I were a two-year-old. Let me help you, Mom. I'm not useless, and I'm not a child.”

Julie went to Dawn, wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close. “I know you're not useless, honey. And I know you're not a child. But, my God, someone is following you now. You're not safe here. Baby, I have to do whatever is necessary to keep you safe, even if it breaks my heart.”

Dawn wrenched herself free of her mother's arms, turned and fled up the stairs. Julie heard the bedroom door slam and flinched bodily.

She pressed her hands to her head. “God, oh, God, why is this happening?”

She started when she realized Sean was standing close to her, having all but forgotten his presence in her anguish over seeing her daughter in so much pain. When he slid his arms around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest, she went rigid in surprise. What the hell was this?

But he only held her there, his hands gentle. “It'll be okay,” he said.

He was actually comforting her. It wasn't a come-on, and it wasn't a joke. He was actually trying to reassure her.

“Th-thank you.”

He released her, and she looked up, searching his face. He honestly seemed as worried as she was. She shook her head slowly. “So what did you do with the knife?”

“I took it to a private lab for analysis.”

She blinked at him. “You did what?”

“Like it or not, Jones, knowledge is power. We needed to know whose blood was on that blade, and whose fingerprints. We can't fight this thing unless we know what it is we're fighting.”

“What the hell do you mean,
we?
” She stared at him. “I want it back. You had no business doing this, MacKenzie.”

His sympathetic expression hardened slightly. “I can't give it back, Jones. There was a break-in at the lab. It was taken.”

The blood rushed from her head so rapidly she felt dizzy. She actually swayed a little, but he caught her shoulders.

“I know you could probably kill me right now. I can't say I blame you, but Jesus Christ, Jones, if you'd come clean with me from the beginning…”

“It's none of your goddamn business!” She shouted it, furious at him.

He kept his own voice level and low. “I'm making it my business.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Why? For the love of God, Sean, why are you so determined to dig around in my life?”

He held her gaze, and she saw something there, just briefly, before he lowered his head. He released her shoulders, turned and paced a few steps away. “Look, I don't like this any more than you do, but I'm compelled to help. And I don't need a shrink to tell me why. You were at that goddamn compound during the raid I still have nightmares about, and somehow you survived. I was there. I watched it happen, and I did nothing. Then I let them silence me when I could have told the story. It's guilt, all right? I'm using you to ease my own guilty conscience.”

She shook her head slowly. “And that's it? That's why you've suddenly become the only person in the goddamn universe who's on my side?”

He shrugged. “That's most of it. It might also be the fact that Dawn's prints are on that knife, not yours, and that I'm nuts about the kid.” He lifted his head again, met her eyes. “Or maybe it's something else entirely.”

“Like that you could finally get enough dirt on me to write the exposé of a lifetime?”

His eyes clouded, darkened. “Hell, Jones, if that's all I wanted, I could quit now and go home. I think I know what Harry had on you.”

Time seemed to stop for an instant. Julie went icy cold. “Wh-what?”

“He was a blackmailer. He was good at it. It's pretty common knowledge that he slept around, taped his escapades and then took payoffs from the women in the tapes. If he was call
ing you, harassing you, and you went to meet him, it stands to reason he was blackmailing you, too.”

She sighed, a little bit of relief daring to seep into her mind. “I never slept with Harry Blackwood.”

“I know. What he had on you was considerably more volatile than that. He must have known about Dawn.”

Her voice a mere whisper, she asked, “What about her?”

“She was born at that compound, wasn't she, Jones?” He said it very softly, carefully, so there was no chance Dawn might overhear.

“You're insane.” She averted her eyes, pacing away from him as she said it.

“Maybe. Hell, I must be, or I wouldn't be here. But there was another young woman with you in that snippet of tape. She was carrying a baby. It was Dawn, wasn't it?”

“No.”

“Then where was she? She'll turn seventeen this summer, she told me. She was either already born when I got that footage or you would have been obviously pregnant. And you weren't. You were thin as a rail.”

She shook her head rapidly. “You're wrong about this, Sean. Just let it go.”

“I can't let it go. I have a gut feeling this all ties in together somehow. That compound, the raid, the murder of Harry Blackwood and, somehow, you and Dawn. Now you can let me help you, or you can be stubborn and try to go it alone. But I'm gonna get to the truth either way.”

“Why? Why the hell do you even care about any of this?”

“I told you why. Because I was there, goddammmit! I was there, and I knew that raid was coming, and I kept my mouth shut so I could get a story.” He spun away from her, but she
saw the anguish cross his face before he closed his eyes as if to blot it out. “I let them all die. I need to know what happened in that house. I need to know how you survived and whether anyone else did.” Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes again, faced her once more. “I may be the only guy in this city who can help you get out of this mess you've landed in, and for some reason, that's what I want to do.”

She stared at him, searching and probing the depths of his eyes until he averted them with a frustrated sigh.

“Sleep on it,” he said. “Let me know what you decide.” Then he turned and walked out.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

J
ulie didn't go to her own bedroom after Sean left. She went to Dawn's, slid into bed beside her and wrapped her arms around her.

Dawn was awake, her body rigid, her face wet with tears. “Don't send me away, Mom. Don't.”

Julie smoothed the tear-damp hair from Dawn's forehead. “I love you, honey.”

“You always say we can get through anything as long as we're together. You know you do.”

“I know, but—”

“There's nowhere I could go, anyway. No one else would watch out for me the way you do. You know that.”

Pursing her lips, Julie admitted, silently, at least, that her daughter had a point. There was no one. It had been the two of them against the world since Julie was only slightly older
than Dawn was now. She'd never depended on anyone else. Julie had no family aside from a father who was, as far as she knew, still in prison. She hadn't spoken a word to him since the day she'd found her own mother lying in her bed, just as she'd found her on so many other mornings. Her face had been bruised, her body battered and tucked in as if it were just another ordinary morning when she slept late because it hurt too much to wake up. But that last time, she never woke up at all.

“I just need to be sure you're safe,” Julie told Dawn, holding her close. The thought of being away from her daughter, even for a little while, made her heart bleed.

“I swear, I'll be more careful, Mom. No more sneaking out, no more walking home from school. I'll do whatever you want. But I want to stay here with you.”

Julie nodded slowly. “No more trying to protect me. No more keeping secrets, Dawn. It's important.”

“I know. I'm sorry, Mom. But…”

“But?”

Dawn sat up in the bed, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “You've been keeping secrets, too, Mom.”

Julie sat up, too, faced her daughter, held her steady, intelligent gaze. “You're right. Dawnie, I need you to trust me right now. There are some things I have to tell you, things you need to know. But I don't want to put you in a position where you feel you have to lie to protect me.” She sighed, knowing she must sound as if she were making excuses, and maybe she was. “I promise, I'm going to tell you everything. Everything, Dawn. Just as soon as we get through this.”

She looked into her daughter's eyes again. They were full of questions, and Julie knew her daughter deserved the an
swers. She hadn't done her any favors, keeping the truth from her all this time.

“I didn't kill Harry Blackwood. And I don't know who did. That's the truth.”

Dawn nodded. “I believe you.”

Relief sagged Julie's shoulders. “That means everything to me.” She drew a breath. “As for the rest—let me see what I can work out, okay?”

“You won't send me away?”

“Let me see what I can work out,” she repeated, making no promises.

Dawn closed her eyes. “Sean will help. I think he wants to, if you'll let him.”

“I'm not sure I trust him.”

“You do, you just don't want to.”

Julie sighed. “You're too smart for me.” She rolled to her feet, taking a pillow with her, then tossed it at Dawn's head. “Shower up. I'll make us some dinner.”

Dawn got up, but it pained Julie to see the red tear streaks marking her perfect, pale cheeks.

“Let's bunk together tonight,” Julie said. “We'll make popcorn, watch some movies.”

Dawn paused to stare at her mother, and Julie sensed she knew the truth. A couple of times in the past few months, Dawn had hinted that she thought she might be adopted. She hadn't come right out and asked, but she'd left huge openings for Julie to tell her. Julie had chosen not to. She just hadn't been ready then, but she knew that was wrong of her. Her own readiness had nothing to do with it. If Dawn was ready to ask the questions, then she was ready to hear the answers. Julie had been selfish and afraid.

She was going to have to tell her everything soon.

But not until she made sure Dawn was safe. The fact was, Julie was still afraid, afraid the boogeyman in the dark car would come back here tonight—would come after her kid.

Dawn painted a brave expression over the frightened one on her face and forced a smile. “We'll make it a slumber party, just like we used to when I was little,” she said. “It'll be fun.”

* * *

When it got light outside, Sean released the parking brake and let the car roll quietly down the slightly sloped driveway into the road. It coasted backward several yards. Then he started the Porsche and drove back toward the city, figuring he would just about have time to take a shower and head in to work.

He asked himself all morning long what the hell he was doing, why he'd felt compelled to sit in Julie Jones's driveway all night long, watching over her house as if he were some kind of goddamn superhero protecting an innocent, and he came up with plenty of answers. He felt responsible for the missing blade—as well he should. And he was still shouldering a lot of guilt over his inaction the day of the raid on the Young Believers' compound. He felt compelled to help Julie and Dawn because they had survived. It was like a second chance, an opportunity to do penance for that old mistake. To make it right.

But all of that was just a bunch of psychoanalytical bullshit and rationalization. There was more. A lot more. There was something happening between him and Julie Jones. He didn't think she would admit it—maybe she hadn't even figured it out yet, but he had. He didn't like it, but he couldn't ignore it, either.

When he arrived at the station and went inside, Lieutenant Jackson was waiting for him in his office. He hadn't noticed her car outside but supposed she would have parked in the back, anyway. She got to her feet, her smile bright, her handshake warm and firm. “The receptionist said I could wait in here. Hope you don't mind.”

He glanced at his desk, doing a mental rundown and vowing to give that receptionist hell before he left this building again. Had he left any notes that might be incriminating to Julie? Any evidence of his contraband tapes and photos lying around?

“I wouldn't go through your things without a warrant, MacKenzie.”

He shrugged. “You'd be bored to tears if you did, Jax.”

“I'll bet.”

He walked past her. She returned to her former position, sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. He went behind the desk and sat down. “You want anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Answers, MacKenzie. I want answers.”

He held up his hands. “I'm an open book. What do you want to know?”

“I caught your broadcast last night,” she said.

“Yeah? How'd I do?”

“Great. I thought Julie was a little off, though.”

He shrugged. “Really?”

“Didn't you?”

“I thought she was perfect.”

Her smile was slow, knowing. She was a beautiful woman, in a clean, crisp, efficient way. Strawberry-blond, shoulder-length hair, parted to one side and smooth as satin. Big blue
eyes that were deceptively innocent. “You two have great chemistry. Are you close?”

He knew what she was asking. “Not the way you mean.”

“You, uh—you said you were with her that night at the hotel, the night of the murder. ‘Never out of her sight, 'wasn't that how you put it on the air last night?”

“That's close enough.”

“But you didn't arrive together?”

“She had her car, I had mine.”

“How was it you heard about the body being found in the hotel?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you didn't just happen by there. It wasn't an accident.”

He took a slow breath, chose his words with care. “I heard it on my scanner.”

“I see. So, uh, Julie heard about it the same way? Or did you call her and tip her off?”

“She heard about it the same way.” He knew where she was going now. He would give her the same story Julie had given him, even though he knew it was a lie. “Julie has a scanner in her car. Normally I'd have beaten her to the scene, being that I live closer, but she was already on her way into the city when the call went out. So we arrived at the same time.”

Jax nodded slowly, but he could see the intelligence behind her eyes and thought she was up to something. “Where was she going at that time of night?”

He shrugged. “That you'd have to ask her.”

“Uh-huh. So you met…where? In the lobby?”

He narrowed his eyes. She was trying to trip him up; he just wasn't certain how. “I'm not sure I remember. Why?”

“Just that we've been going over those elevator surveillance tapes, trying to get a second glimpse of that mystery woman—the one in the photo we distributed to the press. I found the section of tape where you went up to the twelfth floor. No one was in the elevator with you, though. So I guess Julie actually
was
out of your sight at some point that night.”

He forced a charming smile while he groped around in his mind for a plausible answer and came up with one. Jax was good, he thought. But he was better. “Yeah, Jones would have taken the stairs. She generally takes the stairs.”

Her brows went up. “Claustrophobic?”

He shrugged. “We've never discussed it. But if I had to guess, I'd say it was for the extra steps.”

“Extra steps?”

“Yeah. Haven't you heard? The camera adds ten pounds.”

She lowered her head, poking her cheek with her tongue from the inside. She knew he had her. “I
have
heard that. But twelve floors is a little excessive isn't it?”

“Not as excessive as what other women in the public eye do. Bulimia, anyone?” He shrugged. “Anything else?”

She hesitated, and he thought she was thinking about her words, planning them in advance. “So you both arrived at the dead man's room around the same time.”

“I beat her. The elevator is faster.”

“I understand from the station manager that you weren't even hired here until the next day. How is it you and Julie were working together on this?”

“We weren't exactly working together. More like trying to scoop each other. We're longtime rivals, you know. Or were, until now. I wasn't going to let her out of my sight, in case she snagged some clue I might have missed. And the feeling was mutual.”

She nodded slowly, made a note on a pad he hadn't even noticed in her hand.

“My turn,” he said. She looked up, brows raised. “Hey, I'm in the news biz. You had to know I'd want to ask a few questions of my own.”

“I probably won't be able to answer them.”

He shrugged. “Ah, come on. At least hear them first.”

“Shoot.”

“Why are you so interested in Julie Jones on this?”

She pursed her lips. “We're just checking out everyone who was there that night. That's all.”

“I heard you were looking at blackmail as a motive.”

She frowned at him. “Where did you hear that?”

“You know I can't reveal a source.”

She pursed her lips. “Well, I won't confirm or deny it. And you can't report it.”

“I didn't plan to.”

“That would be a switch.”

He pressed a hand to his chest. “I'm wounded. I've been completely cooperative with your department since coming to work here at WSNY.”

“And with Julie Jones, too.”

“She's my partner.”

Jax looked angry for a moment, but she covered it quickly. “I'm done.” She got to her feet, headed for the door. “If you're lying to provide her with an alibi, MacKenzie, I
will
find out. And I
will
charge you with obstruction.”

“I wouldn't lie to the police, Jax.”

She sent him a look from the doorway, half in and half out of his office. “Thank you for your
cooperation,
Mr. MacKenzie.”

“Anytime, Lieutenant.”

* * *

“I've already spoken to the principal, as well as to Kayla's parents. Her father's a policeman, you know,” Julie said into her cell phone as she pulled into her parking space at WSNY, twenty minutes late. “But I wanted to talk to you personally about this, Ms. Marcum. I know how highly Dawn thinks of you.”

“I think pretty highly of her, too. She's a special girl.”

“I couldn't agree with you more.”

“Do you know…anything about this man the girls saw following them?”

Julie hesitated, licking her lips as thoughts swam through her mind. She did. She knew a lot about him—if he was who that anonymous caller had suggested he was. But he couldn't be. That was impossible. She'd seen Mordecai Young die in that fire, seen him buried under a mountain of flaming debris. No one could have survived that.

BOOK: Thicker Than Water
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