Free Novel Read

When the Bough Breaks: Rose Gardner Investigations #6 Page 2


  “Not me,” I said. “My momma never said nothin’.” Then I added, “Only I guess she would have been lyin’ since she wasn’t my birth mother.”

  He picked up my hand and squeezed. “We’ll make sure our baby has plenty of stories. Happy ones.”

  “Yeah,” I said, squeezing back. “We will.”

  Joe got Muffy out of the office through the back door, and then we climbed into my truck since Joe had installed Ashley and Mikey’s car seats in the back the night before.

  He insisted on driving, and ordinarily I would have protested, but my stomach was so huge it nearly touched the steering wheel. Besides, I was tired. I decided to save my energy for the kids.

  When Joe pulled in next to Mike’s truck in the driveway, the state of Mike’s house caught me by surprise. He was usually the tidy type, but the yard needed to be cut and the landscaping looked overgrown. All of the blinds and curtains were shut.

  An uneasy feeling twisted inside of me.

  “Something’s off, Joe,” I said as I reached for the door handle.

  He gave the house a long look, shifting into chief deputy mode. “Maybe you should wait in the truck, Rose.”

  “I’m not waiting in the truck. I’m going to get my niece and nephew.” Mike had finally relented, and I wasn’t about to let him change his mind. And if I saw any evidence he wasn’t taking care of those kids, I would find a way to help them. Legal or not.

  Before Joe could reply, I pushed the door open and slid off the seat. I was about to close the door, but Muffy jumped out and immediately peed in the yard.

  Smart girl.

  “Rose,” Joe protested as he met me at the hood.

  “I realize Mike is irritated with me, but he’s not gonna hurt me. Especially with you here.”

  Joe’s grim look suggested he wasn’t appeased, but he didn’t stop me either. Instead, he followed me to the front door. Muffy trotted along next to my feet. She didn’t seem overly concerned, just curious. As crazy as it seemed, I trusted her. She was a great judge of character and great at assessing dangerous situations.

  I knocked on the front door while Joe stood at the bottom of the steps and glanced around the yard. When no one came to the door after a few seconds, I knocked again.

  “They’re not home?” Joe asked, turning his attention to me.

  “That doesn’t make sense. Mike’s truck is here.” Was he hiding inside, pretending not to hear me knocking? I didn’t see how—Ashley would have been running to the door.

  “Maybe they took a walk,” Joe said, climbing the steps to stand next to me. “It is a nice day.”

  “Maybe,” I said, but I wasn’t buying it. Something was off.

  I knocked on the front door again, more insistent this time. “Mike. It’s Rose. I’m here to pick up the kids.”

  “Maybe they’re in the backyard,” Joe said when no one answered the door after a few more seconds.

  “Maybe…” I said as dread burrowed in my gut.

  I walked down the porch steps, shooting a scowl at Joe as he reached up to take my hand and help me down.

  “I’m perfectly capable of walkin’ down steps, Joe Simmons,” I snapped.

  “Can you even see your feet?”

  That was beside the point.

  When I reached the bottom, we were about to walk around to the back when the front door finally opened, and Mike appeared in the barely-there crack.

  “The kids are sick,” he said. “They can’t see you tonight.”

  I almost called him a liar, but the fact that he didn’t look so well himself stopped me. Dark circles underscored his eyes, and his face was pale.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Joe asked, wrapping an arm around my back and resting his hand on my hip.

  “The flu,” Mike said, his gaze darting to the street then back to us.

  “Are you sick?” I asked. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

  “No,” he said so quickly it was obvious he was trying to get rid of us. That and his darting glances added to my suspicion that there was more to the situation than he was saying. “We’re fine.”

  I took a step toward the porch. “Maybe I should come in and check on them.”

  “No,” both men said at once.

  Joe grabbed my wrist and held me in place. “You can’t go in there, Rose. You can’t risk gettin’ the flu.”

  He was right, but Mike wasn’t being truthful with us. I glanced down at Muffy, but she sat at my feet, looking at Mike. Normally, she’d be trying to run in and see the kids.

  What was holding her back?

  “Are your parents helping?” I asked.

  “No,” Mike said, “I don’t want them to get sick either.”

  “You’re sure we can’t get you anything?” I asked.

  “No,” Mike said in a broken voice, then shut the door, leaving me a lot more worried than when he’d opened it.

  I stared at the house and Joe’s hold on my wrist tightened.

  “You can’t go in there, Rose.”

  I knew he was right, but I needed someone I trusted to tell me that my niece and nephew were okay. I’d spent months fretting about not being able to see them. This was different. Part of me feared something had happened to them, or that maybe they were sicker than Mike was saying. “I can’t, but you can.”

  “Mike’s not gonna let me in, and even if he did, I’m not gonna risk comin’ down with the flu and infectin’ you and the baby.”

  I knew he was right, but it still felt wrong.

  “How about we see if Jed and Neely Kate have plans for tonight?” Joe said, tugging me toward the truck. “We can invite them over for dinner. It might be our last chance before the baby comes.”

  “If I ever have the baby,” I grumbled.

  “You’ll have the baby,” he said in a teasing voice, but he cast a glance back at the house as he led me to the passenger side. His gaze found mine, all teasing gone. “But on the way back to the farmhouse, you’re gonna make a call to Mike’s parents and ask them a few questions because, just like you, I know something’s goin’ on and I plan to do a little diggin’.”

  “Thank you,” I said, relieved he was taking this seriously.

  He frowned. “Those are Violet’s kids, and I promised her I’d make sure they were always protected. Always safe. I won’t let her down. We’ll make sure they’re okay. I promise.”

  I was counting on it.

  He got in the truck, and as we drove away, I placed the call and put the phone on speaker. Mike’s mom answered.

  “Hi,” I said, “this is Rose.” When she didn’t respond, I added, “Violet’s sister.”

  “I know who you are,” she said curtly.

  Joe’s eyebrows rose.

  “I’m just callin’ to check on Ashley and Mikey,” I said. “I dropped by Mike’s to pick them up like we’d arranged, but he said they have the flu.”

  “Oh dear,” she said, her voice softening. “I hadn’t heard.”

  “Mike didn’t look well himself, and I’m kind of worried. If you happen to check on them, can you let me know that they’re all okay? I’d be more than happy to make some soup or drop off some juice.”

  “Don’t you have more important things to worry about?” she said, her snippy tone returning. “Like havin’ your illegitimate child?”

  I gasped, and Joe whipped the truck over to the side of the road and snatched the phone from my hand. “Excuse me?”

  “Who is this?” she asked.

  “It’s Joe Simmons. The baby’s father.”

  “Like that makes it any better,” she snapped. “Gallivanting from one woman to another. Even Violet had her sights set on you for a time.” She tsked. “There’s a reason Mike keeps those children from you, Rose. You’re a terrible influence. Perhaps you should consider that.” Then she hung up.

  Joe and I stared at each other for several seconds before he said, “Rose, she’s just one old woman whose opinion doesn’t amount to a hill of bean
s.”

  But it wasn’t just one old woman. Plenty of them felt that way, something I’d discovered firsthand last month. Neely Kate and Maeve had hosted a baby shower for me, and Maeve had invited the Garden Club. They’d shown up, but they’d looked down their noses at my bare ring finger.

  The others had been content to emanate quiet disapproval, but Miss Mildred had taken it upon herself to try to force a literal shotgun wedding. She’d tricked Joe and Jonah into coming to the shower, then stuck a bridal veil on top of my head and held a gun on the minister, telling him it was his ordained duty to make sure our baby wasn’t doomed to hell. Joe had talked her down, telling her he’d be sure to make an honest woman out of me someday, although hopefully not at gunpoint. Jonah convinced her to hand over the gun—which, thankfully, hadn’t been loaded—but Officer Ernie, responding to a 911 call about a hostage situation, showed up just in time to witness the exchange. He tackled Jonah to the ground, knocking over the refreshment table, and the diaper-shaped cake flew into the air and landed directly on Ernie’s butt. It took a while for the dust to settle, but we finally convinced Ernie that Jonah was innocent, Mildred’s plan wasn’t truly criminal, and he had no just cause to arrest Neely Kate for attempted murder for baking the cake that had assaulted him. Needless to say, my shower had been the talk of the town for weeks.

  I hadn’t let the incident bother me too much then, but now I wondered if the whole out-of-wedlock thing was a bigger issue than I’d realized. “What if it really is my character that’s influencing Mike to keep me from the kids? Maybe I’m just imaginin’ that he has criminal ties.”

  “I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion,” he said. “Of course he’s gonna spin it like that for his parents.”

  “Maybe,” I said, staring down at my phone.

  “Rose.”

  I looked up at him.

  “She’s full of shit. You’re no more of a bad influence on the kids than the donuts Mike gets for ’em at Dena’s cupcake shop.”

  “Dena makes donuts now?” I asked, trying not to cry.

  He grinned. “So I hear. I can’t step foot in the place.”

  My stomach sunk. Dena was his ex-girlfriend, and she whispered malice-laced gossip about me into the ear of every person who walked through the doors of her bake shop. “You’re givin’ up so much for me, Joe.”

  “If you think I gave up Dena for you, then you’ve got another think comin’. I broke it off with Dena because I came to my senses.” He gave me an ornery grin. “Besides, I hear the donuts at the Stop-N-Go are ten times better.”

  “Liar.”

  He laughed and shifted the truck into drive. “Enough of that nonsense. Let’s go pick up some steaks, and I’ll grill ’em for dinner. You call Neely Kate.”

  Just as I was about to place the call, Joe’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and frowned before he answered. “Chief Deputy Simmons.”

  There was a moment of silence, then Joe shot me a glance and said, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  He hung up and gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Rose. I have to go into work. I’ll drive downtown and pick up my car.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not, but one of the conditions for me takin’ two weeks off after the baby’s born is that I have to be called in on all big cases until the baby’s born.”

  “It’s a big case?”

  He frowned, then said, “They found a body at a neighborhood construction site.”

  I tried not to flinch. It had been months since there had been any murders in the county, so I took it as a bad sign that this was happening now.

  He put a hand on my arm. “Don’t be lettin’ your imagination run away from you. It could have been a squabble between two coworkers.”

  “Or it could have something to do with Hardshaw or James.”

  The Hardshaw Group was a crime syndicate based in Dallas. They were like a cancer, spreading out and metastasizing in small towns and counties all over Texas and Oklahoma, leaving death and destruction everywhere they’d taken over.

  Neely Kate had landed on their radar years ago in Oklahoma, when she’d killed (in self-defense) the son of Arthur Manchester, one of the three men who ran the group. We’d taken to calling them the Hardshaw Three: Tony Roberts, Arthur Manchester, and Randall Blakely. All successful businessmen in their own right, but greed had driven them to try their hand at illegal pursuits.

  Their interest in Neely Kate had likely been further stirred upon realizing she was an unrecognized Simmons child. And so they’d planted Ronnie Colson in town years ago to spy on Neely Kate. He’d married her even though he didn’t love her. Even though he was already married to someone else.

  And sometime in the last few years, they’d also sunk their hooks into Skeeter Malcolm. He had been working with them on the sly, without telling any of us, helping to lay a foundation for them to come in and set up shop. All while Joe, Neely Kate, Jed, and I had been trying our hardest to keep them out.

  After I’d discovered James’s betrayal, Tim Dermot, a criminal with a group of men of his own, had banded the criminals of the county together in an attempt to stop Hardshaw from moving in. Dermot and Jed had asked me to lead them as the Lady in Black, and I’d held several meetings with an eye toward forming a plan for keeping Hardshaw out of the county. Only my mediation hadn’t helped much, and we’d never really gotten anywhere.

  Then we’d discovered the FBI was investigating Hardshaw, and we’d disbanded the group and let our guard down. We’d lulled ourselves into complacency, and now…now I was scared to death Hardshaw was still a threat and that my baby was in danger.

  Joe gave me a sympathetic look. “All the more reason for me to take part in the investigation. Don’t be borrowin’ trouble until we know more.”

  But Joe seemed to forget that trouble dogged my footsteps like I was the Pied Piper.

  Chapter 3

  “I hate that I’m leavin’ you alone,” Joe said, his brow furrowed.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “I’m feelin’ tired from all the excitement anyway.”

  “Are you sure?” He cast a glance toward me. “You can still call Neely Kate.”

  “Nah. Muffy and I will have a nice quiet night at home. But I want you to let me know when you get home. Even if you have to wake me up.” When he hesitated, I added, “Please. Otherwise I’ll just worry about you.”

  “Okay,” he said, “but I’ll likely be home long before you’re in bed.”

  For some reason, that filled me with relief. Heavens knew I’d been nesting lately. I’d cleaned out the linen closet a couple of days before. Maybe needing to have the baby’s daddy close was part of it. “Good,” I said softly. “I like havin’ you around.”

  He flashed me a grin, and neither one of us said anything more until he pulled my truck into the parking space next to his car. He put the truck in park and turned to me with a worried expression. “What are you gonna do for dinner?”

  “I just had that coleslaw,” I said. “I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about us.” I placed my hand on my swollen belly. “We’ll be fine.”

  Joe put his hand next to mine, then leaned down and said quietly, “Take care of Mommy until I get home. And while I’m excited to meet you, little man, I’d appreciate it if you’d hold off for a few hours.”

  I snorted. He’d insisted the baby was a boy because he’d heard that boy’s heart rates ran faster than girls, and since he’d come to almost every doctor’s visit, he’d heard it enough times to draw his own conclusion. He was so confident that he’d bet me twenty dollars he was right. I’d abstained from making any kind of counter bet. “I think you’re safe there.”

  He straightened and smiled. “You never know.” He opened the door, then looked back at Muffy, who was sitting in Mikey’s car seat. “I’m countin’ on your guard dog abilities, Muff. Will you watch over your momma?”

  She looked right at him and let out a tiny bark.

&nbsp
; “You trained her to do that,” I said with a laugh.

  “I’ll never tell,” he said, sliding out of the driver’s side door. “But it’s amazing what she’ll do for a piece of a hot dog.”

  “You spoil her,” I complained as I scooted into the driver’s position on the bench seat.

  “I just show her how much I love her.” He grabbed the seat belt and handed it to me. Once I was buckled in, he turned serious. “I worry about you bein’ out there all alone.”

  “I’ve been alone for months. I’ll be fine.”

  He nodded, but it looked like he wanted to say something—something he’d clearly decided to swallow instead, because he shut the door without another word.

  I watched him walk over to his car, then backed out of the parking spot and headed home.

  I’d told Joe I was tired, but I was also restless. After putting my purse in the house, I grabbed two apples and let Muffy out through the kitchen door. We walked out to the barn to say hello to the two rescue horses that Margi, the local vet’s sister, had moved in. The tan one, a mare named Buttercup, walked over, leaning her head over the fence. I handed her one of the apples and rubbed over her nose. “Did you have a good day, Buttercup? Did Margi come out to see you?”

  Margi had coerced me to let her keep horses in my unused barn and pasture, and in exchange, she’d paid to have the barn fitted to house them as well as fix the broken fencing. It had taken her longer to get the money for the repairs than she’d expected, but the barn and pasture had been ready to go by early March. Buttercup had moved in a week later.

  The horse had come to the farm impossibly thin and skittish, her body covered in sores. Margi had told me she’d been neglected by her previous owner, but it was nothing some good steady meals and a lot of love wouldn’t fix. And since I’d grown up knowing what it felt like to be unloved, Muffy and I had made a habit of coming out at least once a day to talk to her and tell her what a good horse she was.