In the Arms of the Wind (33 page)

“I guess so. He didn’t say.”

“Well, that’s one mystery solved,” he said. “Now all we need do is find out who killed Rosemary Adams and…”

“You already know, Danny,” she said softly, and when he looked at her, she turned to face him. “And that will need to be taken care of as soon as we get back to Sigourney.”

He faced the road, looked back at her, his expression bewildered. “Who?”

“Moirrey,” she said.

His lips parted and she realized he was stunned by the identity of the culprit.

“But why?” Danny asked.

“She was taking care of business,” she told him. “Doing what all mobsters do—eliminating the competition.” She opened her car door. “Are you going to be here when I get back?”

He nodded. “Yeah, babe. I’ll be here.”

She handed him her cell phone. “Call your grandfather. He’s worried about you. Tell him we discussed Moirrey and he needs to find out from her who did the actual killing. That person needs to be brought to justice and Moirrey needs to know we’re on to her. Do it now, Danny.”

She got out and never looked back as she went into the discount store.

For a moment she stood staring at the people milling about. It was just an ordinary night for them. They would shop a while, take their purchases up to the registers, pay, go home and settle in for another run-of-the-mill evening. Nothing spectacular to do. Nothing life-shattering or soul-changing before they trundled off to bed.

Slowly putting one foot ahead of the other, she retrieved a cart and headed for the men’s section of the store. A few people smiled at her and she struggled to smile back, but her lips felt frozen. She felt cold to the marrow of her bones because she knew. She
knew
.

The shirt and pants—both lovingly chosen, stroked as they were laid in the cart. Dark blue shirt with snap buttons because she liked the way they sounded when they came undone. Pre-washed jeans. Had to think about what size—it took her a moment or two.

“It’s hard to buy for a guy, ain’t it?” a woman asked.

Kaycee glanced around. “I beg your pardon?”

The woman nudged her chin toward the buggy. “You seem to be having trouble deciding what to get for him. Birthday or anniversary?”

“We’re getting married,” Kaycee said, the words coming out of her mouth before she thought.

“Oh, part of his trousseau, huh?” the woman asked, laughing. “Yeah, well my man needed help with his wardrobe too!”

Watching the woman walk off, Kaycee thought about what she’d said—“We’re getting married.”

“Are we?” she asked aloud. Did
knowing
change how she felt about Danny?

Even more slowly than she had pushed the cart to the men’s side of the store, Kaycee pushed it toward checkout. With every step she took, she contemplated what she had learned, what she suspected, what she
knew
.

Did knowing change how she felt?

She stopped—staring at a display of cough drops. She tested her feelings, probing at them as if they were a loose scab. She pulled a tiny piece of the layer away to look underneath.

I love him. He makes me happy and I make him happy
, she thought.

There was no denying either of those things.

“He’s a murderer,” she whispered. “He killed that man tonight.”

But that man had hurt Danny, had raped him, most likely would have killed him given time. Danny had avenged himself. Surely that could be overlooked because Danny wasn’t a bad man.

She took another few steps, stopped again, deciding that no, Danny certainly wasn’t a bad man. He was a good man. A loving man. A man who desperately needed to be loved.

“It’s his family that’s at fault,” she decided. “They did this to him. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It’s business as usual for them.”

Another step or two, another stop. She was right beside the cough drop display, looking at it with unseeing eyes.

“I love him. I can change him.”

She shook herself and looked around as though coming out of a fog. A few passersby were giving her odd looks but she ignored them as she pushed the cart to a checkout lane behind an elderly couple with a few grocery items in their cart.

“Something’s bothering me, Helene,” she heard the old man say.

“Well, for the love of God don’t pick at it. You’ll get it infected,” his wife mumbled with a twinkle in her eye. She winked at Kaycee.

“Hush up, old woman,” the little man said, chuckling. “I’m talking about this frozen dinner. Maybe I ought to get the low sodium variety for us.”

“You only live once, Frank,” the old woman said. “A little salt won’t hurt you.”

With a loving gesture, the old man reached out to cup his wife’s withered cheek. “I’m just looking out for you, baby doll,” he said.

“I know,” she said, putting her wrinkled hand over his. There was such love in her eyes Kaycee felt her own flooding with moisture.

“If we don’t look out for one another, who will?” the old man asked.

Who indeed? Kaycee thought as she watched the elderly couple pay for their meager purchases. A strong believer in signs, she supposed she’d just been given one. Someone needed to look out for Danny Gallagher and she knew she was the one to do it.

“Find everything you need?” the checker asked as Kaycee put the shirt and pants on the conveyor belt.

“Yes,” she said. “I think I have everything I’ll ever need.”

The decision had been made for her by what she believed was a higher power. All she had to do now was help matters along.

When she went back to the car, Danny was sitting with his head against the window, sound asleep. He jerked awake when she opened the car door, blinking against the overhead light.

He swiveled his head toward her, struggling to come fully awake. “You still want to spend the night here?” he asked. “With me?”

She had to ask. She had to know. Just this once.

“Is he dead?”

His eyes were locked on hers.

“As the proverbial doornail and flying low with the Reaper,” he said succinctly.

Kaycee’s eyebrows drew together for a second or two then shifted up her forehead. She sucked in a breath, her eyes widened, and her lips parted. He was staring intently at her—not even blinking.

“What?” she asked in a very small voice. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” he answered, but his tone was gentle. He picked up the cup of cappuccino from the holder on the floorboard.

She swallowed, fear driving through her like a railroad spike and then it all began to make sense. Her world came to a screeching halt and she felt it spin off-kilter around her.

“It was you,” she whispered. “That night at Thomas Gerring’s. It was you and…” Knowledge flowed over her. “You and Barnes.” When he didn’t respond, her shoulders slumped. “That’s why Johnny would take care of Barnes’ widow. Barnes worked for him just like you do.”

Still Danny said nothing. He just continued to watch her.

“You took your father’s job as the family enforcer when he died, didn’t you?”

He remained silent.

“Didn’t you?” she pressed.

“Yes.”

Hearing him admit it was like being hit in the gut with a ball peen hammer. She slowly closed her eyes and turned her face from him. “You kill men for your grandfather and Johnny.”

“Yes.”

“For other mob men too?”

“No.”

She slumped in her seat, relieved to hear that, but she needed to hear it all.

“Why?” she demanded.

He glanced at her. “Why?” The question surprised him.

“You heard me,” she said brutally. “I didn’t stutter. Why do you do it?”

“Because it is expected of me. That’s what I was asked to do and that’s what I do.”

“And because you’re on the police force you can cover it up better,” she stated.

“That’s not why…”

She cut him off. “Do you enjoy killing?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d be a sick son of a bitch if I did, wouldn’t I?” When she didn’t answer, he turned his head toward her. “You still want to spend the night here with me?”

She shook her head. “No.”

She heard the breath release from his lungs. “I didn’t think so.” He took one last sip of the cappuccino then put the cup back in the holder on the floorboard and cranked the car.

Danny drove through the parking lot and started to turn left into the traffic.

“No. Turn right,” she said. The decision had been made for her in a Wal-Mart store in Savannah, Georgia. She would hold onto that belief. Signs were signs. She and Danny were meant to be. She could change him. She knew she could.

“The interstate is left.”

“We’re not going back to Sigourney.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because you’re going to take me to South Carolina,” she said, fingering the engagement ring on the third finger of her left hand.

Danny’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“You don’t have to be a resident in South Carolina and you don’t have to provide evidence of divorce. They have only a day’s wait on a marriage license in South Carolina.”

He swung his head toward her. “What are you saying?”

“A wife can’t be forced to testify against her husband,” she said. “Turn right, Daniel. We’re going to South Carolina.”

Danny turned right, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. He kept glancing at her, expecting her to change her mind. She was still, quiet, sitting there with her eyes closed.

“And no more killing, Danny. If you want us to be together. There will be no more killing.” She opened her eyes but would not look at him. “Do you hear what I’m saying?”

“Yes.”

“No more killing and no more involvement with anything illegal, no doing favors for your family. I will not spend my life waiting for my husband to be sent to prison. Are we clear on that too?”

“Yes.”

“Do you swear?”

“I swear it on my life,” he replied.

“If you can’t live with this, if you can’t truthfully tell me you’ll sever all ties with the gangster part of your family, then you can take me back to my house and we’ll cut our losses. No harm, no foul.”

“I don’t want that,” he said, his throat closing.

“Neither do I, but I won’t live with you any other way than within the framework of the law, Danny, and none of this is negotiable.”

For a long moment he said nothing then slowly nodded his head as though coming to terms with it all in his own mind. He would do what it took to keep her in his world, and if it meant ending his position as family enforcer, so be it.

“I love you, Kaycee,” he said softly. “I’ll do whatever you want me to. Just don’t leave me, baby. I don’t think I’d survive if you left me now.”

She finally looked at him. A smile tried to form on her lips, almost made it. “I love you too.”

The drove in silence for a few blocks then she reached over and put her hand on his thigh. He covered it with his hand.

“Let’s turn around and go back to the B & B,” she said.

His shoulders drooped. “You changed your mind about marrying me?”

“No,” she said. “I can’t go another mile with you smelling like that. You reek,” she said. “We’ll go to the B & B, you can shower, change clothes, then we’ll leave for South Carolina.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive,” she said, squeezing his thigh. “And Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever yell at me again.”

He looked at his lady and pride settled in his troubled eyes. He had wanted to make her stronger and had succeeded.

He shook his head.

Maybe he’d made her a bit too strong.

About the Author

Charlee is the author of over thirty books. Married 40 years to her high school sweetheart, Tom, she is the mother of two grown sons, Pete and Mike, and the proud grandmother of Preston Alexander and Victoria Ashley. She is the willing house slave to five demanding felines who are holding her hostage in her home and only allowing her to leave in order to purchase food for them. A native of Sarasota, Florida, she grew up in Colquitt and Albany, Georgia and now lives in the Midwest.

Charlee welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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