10. Noah
Chapter 10
Noah
“Good morning, my sweet girl.”
I pressed a soft kiss to Kelsey’s temple as I leaned over her. She was cuddled up in her crib which was set next to the bed. The frog blanket Brenna had gotten her was curled around her. I smiled down at her as she wiggled. I knew that face. She was either making me a poopy cake, or she was getting hangry.
Either way, I needed to get out of this uniform and get ready for daddy duty. My poor wife was sound asleep. Sleeping the sleep of the dead. I could tell by the state of the house that it had been a hard night for them both.
Fighting her postpartum, anxiety, and now with the worry of a stalker, things had been tense for the last couple days. Mara, though, would not ask for help unless she had to. The need to not be a ‘burden’ to others—which she wouldn’t be—made her want to do it all by herself, consequences be damned.
I loved this woman so damn much.
It took all I had in me to actually go in last night. If I did, they’d be vulnerable. If I didn’t, we’d be even more stressed by the lack of money coming in. Fucking adulting.
I wanted to be here to protect my family.
Sighing, I started to strip down. My vest hit the chair in the room with a thud. My duty belt followed, it too making barely a sound. I took my gun and put it in the gun safe before dropping my uniform into the hamper. I gave my hands a quick wash, scrubbed my face and neck with a wet cloth. The nape of my neck was sweaty which meant my hair was in need of a trim. I’d do that later.
I replayed the last couple of days as I got myself ready to start unwinding.
After watching the video Tuesday, I knew what I saw, but there was a chance it wasn’t like we thought. It could have been Leah. There were ways to get what one wanted. She, Willow, could have been coerced. Or she could be in on it.
With everything that was happening around us, I was well aware of just how much trouble my brother was in. Stalkers on their own were enough to worry you. They were unpredictable. Prone to random acts of violence, slashing tires, throwing rocks to break a window, declaring their undying love. Random acts of kindness to disguise what was actually happening. To throw you off your game.
This—this was a whole new animal. The escalation—peeking into windows, the tire slashing, the need to be the center of attention and yet look as if she was in the background. Letting Leah push and push.
This bitch was off her rocker. I’d seen it before. My first year on the job, the Sheriff’s Office lost an officer to a stalker. The man had put a knife into his neck when he’d gotten between a young woman and an obsessed madman.
The deputy, a kid, had been on the job a month less than me at the time.
I wouldn’t let that happen to any of us. Other than the Sheriff and Nick, no one knew about the video. Or the fingerprints, and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn’t want her finding out accidentally that we were on to her.
This case could get slipperier than goose shit on plastic. I wanted to make sure I was at the top of that shitshow.
I managed to find out a lot about ‘Willow’ last night. For one, that wasn’t her real name. How, you might ask? Well, even the best laid plans could have a slip-up. Seems that our esteemed stalker forgot that fingerprints weren’t just for ‘crime scenes.’ I’d watched that surveillance video of her in the butcher’s shop three times before I caught it. She’d slipped up.
It was one of those things that, once you saw it, you couldn’t unsee it. So with Mr. Sanderson’s permission, I dusted the door for prints. Why? Because in the video, on her way out, she’d pushed the door open by putting her fingers on the glass of the door. She’d avoided the handle, but that glass, oh yeah. Those three prints were as clear as day.
I figured this couldn’t be the only store she frequented. So, I did what cops do. I grabbed a printed screenshot of her and took it to the other shops. Seems our stalker was a fan of a few popular shops along the boardwalk. And the gas station a few blocks over.
I went as far as going to the hotels. I had no luck there; no one had seen her. I wasn’t going to give up. It was one thing to work a case without knowing the people involved. Your heart went out to them; you did all you could to help them.
This though, when it was my family, it just hit different.
Not only was she a danger to my brother and his wife, but I was worried she would do something to my wife or daughter. Anything to take away the people that loved Abel, and who would be there for him.
If she had been smart, she would have steered clear of my home. Mara wasn’t a bad person, but I would say this, if you pissed her off to the point that her Texan showed, as she would say, ‘ya done fucked up.’
One would think she and Abel didn’t get along at all—with the way they went at it sometimes. But let me tell you, they loved each other. She rode his ass because as his ‘older sister,’ she wanted the best for him. I did too, but I swore that the boy pays me no attention. Mara though, she just had a way about her. He could tell by the look on her face alone, if he needed to run or not.
It was sort of funny.
Let me clarify, it was funny to whoever was not getting that look.
On the same hand, Abel, the jackhole, loved to rile her up and get her going. I couldn’t say I was mad about that either. A feisty, pissed off Mara loved to work those feelings off. Most of the time that meant she was tied to my bed. Or cuffed. I mean, you used what you had, right?
I walked out of the bathroom, my mind all over the place as usual. So when I tell you that I did not see the fluffy gray and white cat laying on the floor, in my flight path…yeah, I stepped on her poor tail. Luckily, my bare foot didn’t hurt her, just scared the shit out of us both.
I bit back a groan when my jumping to save the cat meant I whacked my funny bone on the wall. That knocked over the lamp. I caught it, but in doing so, I kicked the dresser. I didn’t need those little toes for anything.
It was okay, even as I hopped around, laughing, wanting to cry at the pain shooting through my elbow and foot. When I got myself back under control, I stopped a curse from escaping and looked around the room.
I found the room just as I’d left it. Mara was still sound asleep, Kelsey was in her crib, now trying to figure out what her hands were. Babies were magical little balls of tears and poop.
Sammy Belle came out from under the bed, her little yowl melting my heart. I squatted down.
“I’m sorry, girl.” I held my hand out, letting her come to me. “How about a treat? Yeah? Can I buy back your love with some fish?” I scooped her up and snuggled her close. She was as light as a feather, all fur and lanky limbs. That odd teenage cat look. It was endearing. I was figuring she had a little more growing to do. She wasn’t even a year old yet.
I pulled the bags of treats from my nightstand drawer and poured a few out for her. I sat her on the end of the bed to enjoy said treats. My hand glided down her back once more before I went to where my daughter lay. I picked Kelsey up and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then the smell hit me.
I gagged.
I didn’t know what they fed this little monster, but god almighty. She could take down a terrorist cell with that smell alone. Maybe I should call the government. Let them know these toxic diapers could be of help.
Chuckling to myself, I carried her into the bathroom.
By the time I came out with a clean, freshly diapered baby, the sun was starting to crest the horizon, and my kid was getting fussy. I got her into a new onesie, snagged her blanket, and headed out of the room. Sammy Belle took off down the hall toward the kitchen. Guess she was ready for her breakfast too.
I got Kelsey’s prefixed bottle into the bottle warmer and pulled out the container of dry kibble and filled the cat’s bowl. I pulled the curtains open, letting in the rising light. When her bottle was ready, I moved out to the deck and sat.
My cell started to vibrate in my pocket. Grunting, I shifted the baby to get to it. She was not happy that her breakfast was interrupted. But she settled back down quickly.
“Lawson.”
“Noah, sorry to interrupt your morning baby time,” Nick started, his voice all business. “I got a report back on those prints after you left.” I could hear the noise of the office chatter and outside noises disappear as a door shut. “The person those prints belong to is Elizabeth Marie Lawrence. Driver’s license shows she’s 5’6”, one hundred twenty-eight pounds, and she’s twenty-two from Sacramento. Parents reported her missing weeks ago. They told the officers that came to the house that she ran away.”
“An adult doesn’t run away unless you make them.”
“Yeah. I talked to the officer on the original report. He said the parents seemed to be a little aggressive, demanding they put out an Amber alert and BOLO’s with absolutely zero to go on. And with all of that, they got cagey when the officers started asking questions.”
“Oh, they sound fun. Can you call and get a time for a phone interview?”
“Not necessary. They’re on the way here. We will meet with them this evening at the station.”
“If that’s the case, take your ass home and get some sleep.”
“I’m on the way home to get my wife and baby snuggles, then pass out. No worries. This shift kicked my ass.”
“I feel ya. Gonna do a few things and crash myself. See you later on, man.”
“Yep, laters.”
Mara
“Noah?”
When there was no answer, I reached out to find the bed beside me was still empty. The sheets were cold. He hadn’t been to bed yet. The sun filling the room told me it was later in the morning than I’d like it to be. It also meant, the man had stolen my baby.
Rolling over, I looked at the empty crib and smiled. I wasn’t sure how I would have expected this life we’d made to go, but days like this, I couldn’t love that man more if I tried.
I knew the state of the house would set some people off. He’d worked hard all night, possibly putting his life on the line for this community—and me? I’d been home all day. I’d slept, fed a little monster, did laundry…okay, I got a basket of clothes washed. They were currently piled up on the couch and the chair in the living room. I’d gotten busy with other things.
Having a baby was hard work. Having a fussy baby who got super gassy and cried because she was in pain…just stab me in my damn heart right now. It would hurt less.
The fact that my emotions were all over the place made it so much worse. I didn’t want to be a smelly, uncouth, water bag, but that’s what happened.
Noah working nights wasn’t helping. I couldn’t sleep peacefully when he was gone. Yes, I was codependent. Fuck off. Don’t judge me, dammit.
Sliding out of the bed, I looked around to make sure I wasn’t going to step on the cat and stumble down the hall. The t-shirt I had on was Noah’s, so it was hanging half off of me. I stopped in the doorway of the living room.
There was zero sign of the laundry I’d had on the couch. The living room was picked up, everything back in its place. And my husband laid on the couch, our daughter on his chest and the cat on the back of the couch. Every one of them was sound asleep.
I backed up and moved down the hall. I’d go have a quick shower. Thanks to my trip to the grocery store yesterday, we had steaks and fresh veggies in the fridge. A meal fit for a king, it was. He deserved that and so much more.