Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
“ Y ou haven’t had any luck figuring out who made the call?”
Ian shook his head, and his breath came out in puffs in front of him. “No, but it was a long shot anyway. The only thing we can do right now is figure out what Eric’s hiding.”
“He’s probably hidden his tracks very well,” Bryce warned, a loud clicking sound in the background. “Especially now that he knows you’re coming after him. You couldn’t keep that part to yourself?”
Ian shoved his free hand into his pocket. “I guess I should’ve.”
But he only had one regret when it came to being exposed, and that was putting a target on his family’s back.
Thankfully, none of them held him accountable, knowing full well that Eric was going to start gunning for them sooner rather than later. Still, every day for the past week, Ian had been waking up with knots in his stomach and an ache in his chest. Every time he sat down to dinner with his family, or they all gathered together, all he could feel was guilt.
Anger bubbled beneath the surface, coating his every move.
Ian no longer had any idea what he was doing, only that he’d gone so far down the rabbit hole that the only way out was through.
Walking away from his mom’s case was no longer an option, even if he wanted to.
You can do this, Ian. You’ve got the support and weight of the Falmouth Police Department and the entire Wilson clan. It’s only a matter of time before Eric slips up.
He had every intention of being the one to bring Eric to justice.
All he had to do was wait.
“I’ve done some more digging; it hasn’t been easy. Eric’s been stonewalling, and he hired a security firm,” Bryce continued after a brief pause. “I managed to uncover a little more evidence, but I don’t think it’s usable.”
Ian leaned against the wall next to the double doors of the police station and crossed one ankle over the other. “Can you email the evidence to me anyway? My lawyer and I can comb through it together.”
Between his family, Liam, and the entire police station, there had to be something he could dig up. While Ian knew going after a man like Eric was difficult and convicting him almost impossible, he clung to his faith and his hope. After everything they’d gone through, he refused to believe that this was how things ended for them.
Exhaling, Ian ended the call, lifted up the collar of his jacket, and hurried into the station. His shoes squeaked against the linoleum floors, and bright fluorescent lighting danced on the edges of his vision. He strode down the hallway, which spilled out into the main part of the station, with desks on either side of him and a pair of stairs that led to the top floor.
Marissa stood on the far side of the room, flipping through files with a few other patrol officers. She looked up when he came in, and her lips tightened. Her brows were raised when she handed the file over to a younger officer with blond hair and blue eyes.
She made a beeline for Ian, and they met in the middle. Wordlessly, Ian gestured to his desk and sat down.
Marissa pulled up her own chair and folded her arms in her lap. “Please tell me Bryce has something good. Nothing we’ve done has panned out so far. Everything is a dead end.”
Ian’s hand hovered over the mouse while he waited for the page to load. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Marissa shrugged and leaned forward. “I’m just being honest, E. Don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“You’re supposed to keep my morale up,” Ian muttered to himself.
His email loaded, and he maximized the screen, finding several attachments from Bryce. Many of the documents scanned were old and frayed around the edges. A few of them had certain paragraphs underlined.
In silence, Ian and Marissa scanned the evidence.
When Ian was done, he pushed his chair back and read over the evidence again, hoping against hope that something different would happen. Slowly, he used the mouse to highlight certain phrases. After a second read-through, he twisted to face Marissa, who had taken her phone out and was scrolling through it.
“Yeah, there’s an article here about the case against Eric.” Marissa’s eyebrows drew together. “But the charges were dropped because there wasn’t enough evidence.”
“So, in other words, he paid off a few people and pulled some strings.”
Marissa tossed her phone onto her desk. “Looks like it. I’m sorry, E.”
Ian stood and went to the staff lounge, Marissa close on his heels. He poured a cup of coffee, took his sandwich out of the fridge, and went to the holding cells. Once he crossed the threshold, Marissa squeezed his shoulder and disappeared.
“Where’s that pretty partner of yours going?”
Ian tossed the sandwich through the metal bars, and Jake’s hand darted out to catch it. “She’s got better things to do than waste time on you.”
Jake unwrapped the sandwich and pushed himself off the wall. “That’s too bad. She’s definitely a lot easier on the eyes than you are.”
“You know, I’m surprised you get as much business as you do, considering the mouth you have on you.”
Jake shoved his long, dirty hair out of his eyes. “When you want the best, certain allowances need to be made.”
Ian released the metal bars, set the cup of coffee down, and took a few steps back. “Still think you’re the best, huh? Even after you were almost killed?”
“When I get out of here, people are going to be clamoring to hire me,” Jake said between bites of food. He used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and rubbed it against the front of his shirt, leaving stains there. “As far as they’re concerned, I’ve survived the police and Eric Taylor. I’m practically a legend now.”
Ian snorted. “What does that make me?”
Jake took another big bite of his sandwich. “You’re either going to be a legend or a cautionary tale. It depends on how good your PI is.”
“He’s good, but Eric’s covered his tracks well.”
“What do you expect? Now that he knows you’re onto him, he’s not going to let things go.”
“I see you’ve been catching up on the gossip.”
Jake scarfed down the rest of his sandwich and rubbed his hands on either side of his jeans. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do here. I’m glad they decided to transfer me back to Falmouth.”
“Lucky you.”
Jake shook his hair out of his eyes and shoved both hands into his pockets. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Railings. You’ve already survived a lot longer than I thought you would. You are officially a thorn in Eric’s side and my new favorite cop.”
“New favorite?”
“Yeah, what can I say? The competition is stiff, and you definitely bring me better sandwiches than Officer Schmidt does.”
“Good to know. Do you have anything else that you can remember about Eric? His whereabouts, his clients, anything like that?”
With nowhere else to turn, Ian hated that he was right back where he started, in this godforsaken cell, relying on a henchman for his information.
Jake sat down on his mattress and tucked his legs underneath him. “I’ll let you know if I think of anything else.”
The two of them lapsed into silence.
Reluctantly, Ian left the holding cells and went back to his desk. He and Marissa spent the rest of the shift driving around the streets of the city while Ian skimmed through the evidence again. At the end of their shift, Marissa dropped him off at home before driving off. The house was unusually quiet, and the smell of incense was the first thing to hit him when he stepped in through the front door.
A single lamp was left on, casting long shadows across Lucy’s face. She sat on the couch with a blanket draped over her legs, twisting a lock of hair between her fingers. As soon as Ian called out to her, Lucy turned to him, the glass of wine halfway to her lips. She lowered it and gave him a tight smile.
“Has there been any news from the doctor?” Ian left his boots by the door and shrugged out of his jacket. “You look worried.”
“It’s not cancer,” Lucy revealed with a sigh. “They still need to run a few more tests to figure out what it is, but at least they’ve ruled that out.”
Ian breathed a sigh of relief and padded over to her. He picked up the laptop, set it down on the coffee table, and threw the cover off. Then he sat down next to her, pulled the blanket over both of their legs, and tucked her into his side. Lucy took a long sip of her wine and exhaled. In one quick move, she set the glass down on the table next to her and threw an arm over Ian’s middle.
Ian stroked Lucy’s back. “What’s on your mind?”
“What if they never find out what’s wrong with me? A lot of people have weird or unusual illnesses, and they have to live with chronic pain for the rest of their lives.”
Ian pressed a kiss to the side of her head and draped an arm over her shoulders. “I’m sure that’s not going to be the case. Lily got us the numbers of some of the best doctors in the country. They’ll figure it out.”
Lucy drew back to look at him, and her lower lip trembled. “What if they can only help me manage the symptoms, and there’s no cure for what I have?”
“Then we’ll manage the symptoms till they find a cure,” Ian replied without missing a beat. “We’re going to get through this, Luce.”
He would make sure of it.
When Lucy drifted off to sleep, he studied the even rise and fall of her chest. Slowly, reluctantly, he withdrew his arm and laid her out on the couch. Her head lolled to the side, her mouth parted, and she began to snore. Ian held his breath as he unfolded the blanket and tucked it around her sides. Then he stepped into the kitchen and got started on dinner, beginning with the vegetables for the salad.
Kelli and Dana crept into the house a short while later and wordlessly began to help. When Dean came out of the basement, in his sweatpants and a hoodie on backward, he did a double take. He looked over their mom’s sleeping figure and came to a stop next to Dana. While the two of them chopped up onions, Kelli stirred the ground meat.
Ian wiped the counter down and laid out the square-shaped lasagna sheets.
The four of them worked in unison, dancing around each other while trying not to wake Lucy up. When she stirred, Ian had sprinkled the cheese over the top. He pushed the casserole into the oven and set the timer. Lucy stumbled into the kitchen and drew them all in for a hug. During dinner, she held his hand underneath the table and used her thumb to stroke the inside of his wrist.
His eyes welled with tears as he glanced around the table and was overcome with a wave of gratitude and love.