Twisted Innocence (Moonlighters Series Book 3) (11 page)
“At the murder scene?”
His mouth twitched as he seemed to struggle with his emotions. “It’s all so insane, me dealing drugs. I was waiting tables and wasn’t making enough. I could have gone to work for my dad, but I didn’t want to depend on him. I needed to pay bills, and I didn’t want to ask my parents for money, so I wound up selling weed. Then I figured I could make more selling coke. Just a little here and there, to friends who were going to buy anyway. But after a few weeks, I told my supplier I wanted out. Next thing I know, the DEA drug bust happens. I guess it looked suspicious that I got out right before that happened. My suppliers suspected Loco too, because he was arrested for dealing a few days before the bust, and then the police let him go with a tiny bond. They thought he had made a deal with the police, and if you ask me, he probably did.”
“So you saw who killed him?”
“Yes. They shot him right in front of me.” His face glistened with sweat, and his trembling hand came up to wipe his mouth. “It’s not like in the movies. It was sick . . . worst thing I ever saw. One of the guys cut me . . . knife across the ribs.”
He lifted his shirt, showed Holly the newly healing cut. She sucked in a breath.
“It wasn’t a deep cut, but I was bleeding. Miller told me to take my shirt off to blot it, and when I did, he shoved the gun into my hand and put the knife into Loco’s. I realized they were staging the scene, and I dropped my shirt and the gun and made a run for it. They shot at me and chased me, but I got away.”
Holly tried to picture the scene. “Why didn’t you go straight to the police?”
“You don’t understand,” he said. “Those guys have people there. They have people everywhere. They’re looking for me. They want me dead.”
“They’re not omniscient, like God. Maybe you’re overestimating them.”
“I’m not, okay? I’m not.”
Silence hung heavy over the motor home as Holly played out the scene in her head. Finally, Creed said, “I would have been a good father, I think. I had a great family. Good parents.”
“Had? What are you, dead already?”
He didn’t answer, and she realized that he didn’t expect to survive this—which meant she might not either.
She looked down at her feet. “I followed your parents when I was looking for you.”
“You what?”
“I didn’t know where you were. I thought they might lead me to you. Anyway, they went to a T-ball game. Was that for your nephew?”
“Yeah, Brock. He’s five, really a blast. Loves his Uncle Creed. I was supposed to go to that game too.”
“Your parents seem nice.”
“They’re great. Best grandparents in the world. If they knew they had another grandbaby . . .”
The thought made Holly look away. She stared out into the night. “Creed, you talk like it’s over for you, but it doesn’t have to be. Turn yourself in.”
“You don’t get the drug trade, Holly. It’s a tangled mess, and it reaches everywhere. Even some of the cops are tied up in this.”
She sighed. “If you let me go, my sisters and I can try to help you.”
She didn’t know if she could keep that promise, but she would worry about that later.
He raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he said. “I have no idea what to do. I need to sleep.”
“Go ahead,” she said.
He breathed a mirthless laugh. “I’m not stupid. You’d get away. I have to tie you up.”
“Tie me up? No! Come on, Creed. I’ve cooperated with you.”
“Just so I can sleep. Just until daylight.”
When he raised the gun back to her head, she understood she had no choice. Was it true that he couldn’t pull the trigger and “blow her skull off,” as he said? She couldn’t count on it. He walked her to the bunk bed, made her lie down on the bottom bunk, and used plastic zip ties to secure her right hand to one end and her right foot to the other end. He made sure there was nothing around that she could reach, then he climbed onto the top bunk. In minutes, she heard his rhythmic breathing.
Holly tried to wriggle her hand and foot free, but he’d bound them too tightly. The ties were already cutting off her circulation. Her foot was going to sleep.
She thought of Lily crying for her mother. Was she distressed? Was Juliet able to calm her? She knew for sure her sister wouldn’t let Lily be upset for long.
But the thought that her sisters would assume she was shirking her maternal responsibilities killed her. Why hadn’t she just come clean with them and told them about Creed? She could have used their help, and they wouldn’t have had
to rely on their imaginations to figure out what had happened to her.
She lay on her back, looking at the bunk above her, and said a silent prayer for help. Only God could get her out of this now. She hoped he was paying attention.
L
ying in the dark, Holly looked around the motor home. She wondered whose it was. If it belonged to Creed’s family, the police would have located it by now. There were a few personal touches—homemade curtains in the windows, a yellowed almanac in the pocket behind the driver’s seat, a coffeepot on the small counter. But no pictures, nothing personal.
She dozed lightly off and on during the night, going rigid when she heard the sound of wind moving a branch against the motor home. Assuming Creed’s story was true—what if the drug dealers found them? Would they kill her along with Creed? What story would her family believe about why she was here with him? What would they ultimately tell Lily?
When daylight finally came, she heard Creed stirring. He hung his legs over the side of the bunk above her and sat there for a moment, with only his feet in view. Then he slipped down to the floor.
“Can I please go home now?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. His hair was sleep-tousled, and his face looked paler than last night. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes. I need to nurse, Creed. My daughter needs me.”
“
Our
daughter needs you.”
She opened her mouth to protest but decided it wasn’t wise. “Then let me go to her.”
He busied himself in the kitchen, pouring cereal. There was a small refrigerator under the counter, and he pulled out a carton of milk. Then he started the coffeepot.
She watched as he searched through a drawer, found some scissors, then picked up the gun again. Holding the Glock in his left hand, he cut her ties with his right. She sat up, rubbing her wrist. “Thank you.”
“Come eat.”
If it weren’t for the gun he kept within reach, and the fact that she was painfully engorged and needing to nurse, it would have seemed like a normal breakfast. She ate the bowl of cereal.
“Want more?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Aren’t you gonna eat?”
“Not hungry,” he said, sipping his coffee.
After a moment, he said, “Well, I guess we should move the motor home in case contractors show up to work out here.”
“Creed, please . . . the baby.”
Creed bent over and peered out the window. “I was thinking. Maybe we should go get her.”
Holly caught her breath. “Really?”
“We could let them think what they’re already thinking. That you just spent the night with me last night, that I’m your latest boyfriend.”
Her heart crashed. “No, I don’t want to do that.”
“It’s believable. We go in there, and I keep the gun in my pocket in case you decide to go rogue. We get the baby—Lily—and thank them for keeping her. No explanations. Just get the baby. Then you can take care of her.”
Holly didn’t want to lie to Juliet again, but maybe she could give her a signal that would raise a red flag. Then again, if Juliet didn’t get it and questioned her, Creed could realize what she was doing.
“I don’t want them to think that of me,” Holly said.
“They already think it of you. Let them. You can feed her then. I just want to see my baby before I can’t anymore.”
Holly dreaded the thought of bringing Lily into the motor home with a man who had kidnapped her mother at gunpoint. “Just let me go feed her and leave. I don’t want to bring her into danger.”
“Holly, I’m not going to hurt her.”
Had he really said that with a straight face? “You’ve got a gun on me! Besides, if someone is after you, then she could get caught in the crossfire. Or if the police come, even then, she could get hurt. Why can’t you just let me go? I thought about it all night, and I believe you. I’m not going to call the police. Just please, let me go back.”
“I can’t chance that. No, this is what we’re going to do. We drive the motor home back to the campground where I was yesterday, then we park it somewhere and get your cab. We go get the baby—and if you try to signal your sister, I’ll know it.”
“And what? You’ll kill me? You really want me to bring my baby to you when you’ve just threatened to kill me?”
“I don’t have a choice!” he shouted, startling her. “What else am I gonna do? I know I’m in trouble, one way or another. I know my days are numbered. I just want to see my baby and
have some time to think before my life is taken from me. We’re going to do it this way, like it or not.”
Holly could hear in his voice that she would never talk him out of it. “At least eat first so you’re thinking clearly,” she whispered. “I don’t want you shooting me because of low blood sugar.”
As if to appease her, he poured himself some cereal.
J
uliet woke to Lily’s crying. For such a little thing, she had a big voice, a voice that created panic and urgency. When Juliet lifted the baby out of her vibrating seat, Lily screamed louder, wriggling and squirming as Juliet carried her into the kitchen and opened the container of powdered formula. “I know you’re hungry, sweetie, but I don’t know where your mommy is. Aunt Juliet’s going to feed you, but you’ll have to wait just a minute.”
She heard Robbie crying from his bedroom. That was all she needed. She scooped formula into the only clean bottle she had and mixed it with bottled water.
Fatigue made her feel like she was moving through water, but her heart raced like she was sprinting. Today was Sunday. Should she even try to get Zach and Abe to church?
Cathy came up the hall with Robbie on her hip. “Look who’s up.”
Thankful Cathy had rescued him, Juliet smiled at her son, kissed his forehead. He was still feverish. Lily kept screaming.
“Anything I can do?” Cathy asked.
Juliet knew if Cathy set Robbie down and took Lily, he would get upset. She didn’t want both babies to cry. She managed to get the nipple and top on the bottle, shake it up, and set it in the warmer. Lily continued to scream as the minutes crawled by. Relieved when the steamer finally beeped, Juliet tested the temperature before putting the nipple in Lily’s mouth. The baby suckled greedily.
Silence. Beautiful silence.
“Okay,” Juliet said to Cathy. “You come feed Lily, and I’ll take Robbie.”
Cathy took the baby and sat down on the couch. “So Holly never came home.”
“And she never called me back or answered her phone. I left a dozen messages.” Juliet met Cathy’s eyes. “You don’t think she’s hurt or something, do you? Maybe she had a wreck or got mugged again.”
“I can’t imagine her just not calling. I’m getting worried.”
Juliet took Robbie to his room and changed his diaper, then took him back to the kitchen and put him in his high chair. She gave him some Cheerios to satisfy him until she could get his bottle ready. Thankfully, he cooperated.
Suddenly the doorbell rang, followed by a loud knock. Juliet’s stomach flipped. “Oh no. It’s news about Holly.”
Keeping the bottle in Lily’s mouth, Cathy followed Juliet to the door. Juliet turned on the porch light and looked out through the peephole. “Thank God, it’s her.” She threw the door open.
There stood Holly with some guy Juliet had never seen
before. Just the sight of him made all the hours of stress explode in Juliet’s chest. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you all night. Your daughter needs you!”
Holly reached for her baby as she stepped inside, and Cathy surrendered her. “That’s why I’m here,” Holly said in a flat voice.
Juliet studied her, looking for clues of intoxication or a hangover. She looked disheveled, but not necessarily impaired.
“Who are you?” Cathy asked the man.
“This is my friend Deuce,” Holly said before he could answer.
Deuce didn’t bother to shake their hands. “Hi. How’re you doing?”
“Been better,” Juliet said.
Holly pushed past her toward the living room, Deuce following close behind. He wore a windbreaker, even though it was warm outside, and he was unshaven. He looked just like the kind of guy Holly would fall for. Dark and handsome, with that bad-boy look. Juliet wanted to throttle her sister.
Tears welled in Holly’s eyes as she pulled her nursing cover out of her diaper bag. Juliet gaped at her. Holly was usually modest and didn’t like nursing in front of people. “Hey, sweetheart,” Holly whispered to Lily. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” She looked up at Juliet. “Is she okay?”
“She’s hungry,” Juliet clipped. “I’ve been giving her formula.”
“Formula upsets her stomach,” Holly said. Juliet crossed her arms, livid, and shot Cathy a look.
“I came over to help because Robbie was sick and Lily was crying, and it was chaos,” Cathy said.
“I’m really sorry,” Holly whispered. As she fed Lily under the nursing cover, Deuce seemed transfixed by Lily’s little feet.
“Can you do that in the car?” he asked.
Holly gave him a tense look. “She has to be in her seat while the car’s moving. I can’t nurse her there.”
“You can give her the bottle.”
“She needs to nurse,” Holly said with irritation. “Can we just sit here for a few minutes?”
Juliet’s mouth fell open. Was Holly honestly asking his permission?
Deuce kept one hand in his jacket pocket, but with his other he stroked Lily’s foot. His knee bounced as if he were nervous.
Juliet stood over Holly, her arms crossed. “So . . . no explanation for last night? You said you’d be home at eleven, and you wind up coming back at five a.m.? No apology? No nothing?”
“I didn’t plan that,” Holly said weakly.
“No, I didn’t think you did. It was spontaneous, right? You met a guy . . .”
