10. Chasing Rainbows

10 CHASING RAINBOWS

Keaton

“Fuck! Fuck! Motherfucking, cocksucker!”

Slamming my hands against the steering wheel of my SUV in time with every expletive wouldn’t get the engine to start, but it was the only outlet available to relieve the ravenous rage roaring through my system. Knowing it was bad, then finding out there was proof it was worse…Fuck! And I hadn’t even listened to the recording yet.

I’d witnessed countless acts of violence and depravity during my time with the FBI, yet somehow this felt more egregious, more…personal. In my mind, very little separated Chase McArthur’s crimes from those of my father. Both were narcissistic pricks who thought they could get away with anything because of the size of their bank account. Well, I took down one and it would be my absolute pleasure to bury the other so far underground, the devil himself would have trouble finding him.

Bang!

“Get out of the car, asshole.”

I should’ve expected Duncan to be the one they sent after me, though I could’ve done without his dramatic flair. Bastard probably dented the hood of my car with his meaty paw.

Stepping out before he decided to pound it again, I rounded the hood on a mission. Nothing, and no one, was going to stop me from tearing the world apart in the name of justice for my Little Bird. I was a bull and all I saw was red. Until I saw stars. Both the literal and figurative kind.

One minute I was charging the man I respected more than anyone on the planet, the next I was sprawled on my back looking up into the night sky.

Fuck, that hurt.

“How’d that work out for ya?”

He towered over me like I was some ant he could crush beneath his size fifteen boots without breaking a sweat. Actually, he’d just done it, knocking the air from my lungs and the wind from my sails with one sweep of his leg.

“Not very well,” I groaned, flipping onto my hands and knees, then pushed to my feet.

“The hardest part is yet to come. Should I head to Home Depot to buy plaster to fix Lanie’s walls or are you gonna be able to hold your shit together.”

“How bad is it?”

“It’s not pretty, but your girl’s a fighter.”

“I should’ve been there,” I snarled.

“How? For fuck’s sake, Keaton, you didn’t know she existed two months ago.”

“Not then. Tonight, goddammit.”

I walked away from him, needing a moment to collect my thoughts. The constant flow of guilt was pushing at me from all sides, crushing me with its intensity. Reality was a bitch of a pill to swallow .

“You finished with your snit so we can put this predator behind bars?”

“Did Nelson say whether he found anything else on him?”

“Nothing yet. On paper, he’s a saint, but we both know the only time you’re squeaky clean?—”

“Is when you’re filthy dirty,” I finished. “What’s the plan?”

“First order of business is for you to let go of whatever bullshit blame you’ve laid on yourself.” His words struck like his left hook: strong and lethal.

“How would you feel if the roles were reversed?”

“Kid, I was in your shoes before you knew how to tie them. Except the woman I loved was hurt while I stood there and watched.” I was stunned…frozen on the spot. He’d never been so open about his past and I was afraid to breathe for fear he’d stop talking. “You wanna know what true guilt feels like? Try looking in the mirror every day and knowing there was nothing you could do to stop her pain. Then you come talk to me about your so-called guilt.”

Duncan turned to walk away, but hesitated, reaching into his front pocket. I heard the distinct pinging sound of two objects hitting the ground as he tossed something at my feet before delivering one final shot.

“Is she the one?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Then why are you out here?”

There was no time to respond before he hustled up the stairs, taking them two at a time before disappearing through the door, leaving me on the sidewalk wondering the same thing.

“Shit. ”

My foot slid across something round with the first step I took, nearly taking me to my back for the second time in ten minutes. Glancing down, I saw the reason behind my slip and my engine trouble. I had to give props where they were due. Pulling the spark plugs out of my car was an ingenious move, even if Duncan was an asshole for doing it. I knew I should’ve never given him the spare set of keys to my car.

After picking them up, I made my way inside, ignoring the concerned glares from my team as I strode across the room. Henley’s jeweled eyes widened a fraction when I didn’t simply stop in front of her. Instead, dipping down, I scooped her into my arms—bridal style—before taking a seat with her ass on my thigh and her legs draped across my lap. The wariness I’d witnessed flit over her features when I came back in wasn’t lost on me, in fact it made me feel like an even bigger dick for storming out the way I had. She’d been through hell, and my behavior only added to her worries when I should’ve been comforting her.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“I don’t need your apologies.” She laid her head on my chest. “I just need you.”

“You’ve got me, Henley. All of me.”

Eleven years was a long time to be floundering through the daily grind without a purpose. I was lost, without any sense of direction, until a few weeks ago when I stumbled upon the woman in my arms. She literally and figuratively knocked me on my ass with her beauty, her kind heart, and her sheer determination to thrive in spite of the roadblocks she encountered. It was no wonder I’d fallen in love with her so quickly. Only a fool would have ignored the way she tugged on my soul, and I was no fool.

“I hate to be the bad guy here, but if we want to move swiftly with an arrest for more than assault and battery, Detective Black needs to hear the recording.”

Waverly, unfortunately, had a point. Nelson took his cue, stepping forward to set his laptop on the kitchen counter. After a few quick strokes on the keyboard, he scanned the room until his sympathetic gaze fell on me. “Brace,” was the only thing he said before hitting play.

At first, there was a lot of interference with the quality of the recording from Henley putting the phone back in her pocket. Then it cleared and the voice I heard sent chills down my spine and sent Henley curling up into a tight ball on my lap.

“Do. Not. Scream.”

Pulling her deep into my chest, I tried to stem the tremors racking her body, which had fuck-all to do with the way the temperature in the kitchen seemed to drop twenty degrees while we listened to the venom he spewed as she continued to fight off his attack. A sinister grin played at my lips when his cry of pain came through the speakers right after the distinctive sound of a bone breaking.

My Little Bird had claws.

“That’s the end of it.” Nelson closed the lid on his computer.

“Email me a copy. Between tonight’s incident and this, I’ll have an arrest warrant in a few hours.” Detective Black began gathering her things, but there was another matter we needed to discuss.

“I want to be the one to put the cuffs on this motherfucker.”

“Agent Clarke,” she started.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Shayne.” I glared. “There’s a reason you’re here and not some fresh-out-of-the-academy uniformed officer. You have history with us. ”

“That was different, Keaton.”

“Really? You were in over your head, trying to take down your partner’s killer without any backup. If we hadn’t gotten involved, you’d be sitting behind a desk pushing papers instead of climbing your way up the ladder.”

“Duncan and I will accompany Keaton to ensure he remains strictly professional,” Waverly stated.

“And if McArthur resists?” She looked my way and I shrugged. What could I say? I hoped like hell he tried. “Fuck. My captain will have my ass on a platter if this goes to shit, but I’ll call you tomorrow when I have the warrant in hand.”

It wasn’t until later that night when I was lying in bed, with Henley draped over my chest, did I take a full deep breath. She was safe. Rubbing my hand slowly up and down her naked spine, I could almost feel each one of the red marks the fucker put on her beneath my fingertips. If I had my way, he’d have a few of his own tomorrow.

“Keep your mouth shut and your shit tight, Agent Clarke, or so help me God, you’ll find yourself in the back seat of a patrol car next to your little friend. Got it?”

Detective Black’s warning wasn’t warranted. I’d been read the riot act already during the car ride to the McArthur McMansion by Waverly and Duncan who flanked me as the four of us, plus two uniformed officers, made our way toward the monstrosity of a house.

After reluctantly being let through the gated entrance by security, we were instructed to park next to the greenhouse, then told to walk the remaining distance to the residence. The property screamed money, much like the one I’d grown up on. Not even a blade of grass was out of place on their perfectly manicured lawns. The fifteen foot electrified fence, which was barely visible through the tree line, was a tad much though.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Congressman Wade McArthur was decked out in a charcoal-gray suit, standing between two large pillars on the front porch of his home…and he wasn’t alone. To his left, two other men—just as sharply dressed, with briefcases at their feet—eyed us suspiciously as we ascended the steep staircase. Behind him, leaning back against the house with his ankles crossed in a leisurely manner and a my-shit-doesn’t-stink smirk on his face, was my intended target. At least the fucker had the decency to flinch when his gaze landed on me.

“Good morning, Congressman. I’m Detective Black with the Huntington PD. Since you’ve gathered your legal army here, I have to assume you already know why we’re here so let’s not play games with each other.” Shayne wasn’t easily intimidated, which was the reason Waverly handpicked her for this case. “If you could step aside, we’re here to take your son into custody.”

“On what charges?” He cocked his head to the side, otherwise not moving an inch.

“Aggravated assault and battery to start. Then first degree sexual abuse.”

“Preposterous! Look at him.” He waved an arm at his progeny. “He can have any woman he wants at any given time. He doesn’t have to force them. Whoever made these accusations is after money, plain and simple.”

A growl rumbled up my throat, my body tensing in preparation for battle. Duncan’s hand clamped firmly on to my shoulder when my foot left the ground, halting any further movement.

“We have evidence to the contrary.”

“I’m Graceton Sykes, Detective.” One of the suits stepped forward with his hand out. “Lead attorney for the McArthur family. We’d like to see this so-called evidence.”

“You know the process, Counselor ,” she emphasized his title. “He’ll be read his rights, then booked into the system. Once he’s processed, we’ll meet you in the interrogation room where I’ll be more than happy to show you whatever you want. Until then, step aside and let me do my job. Out of respect for your client's position in the community, we came here quietly this morning, but if you continue to push me, watch how fast the news vans line up for the show.”

That did it. The mere inference to a media storm had the congressman and his two-man legal team moving like a choreographed ballet, opening up a clear path between us and the now, not-so-cocky Chase. Shayne swirled a finger through the air, giving our predetermined sign to wrap this shit up, and she didn’t need to tell me twice.

“What the fuck?” he shouted, straightening from the wall, his head on a swivel searching for an escape route, as the two Huntington PD officers and I hit the top of the steps.

“Congressman, you might want to inform your son about the benefits of cooperation,” Waverly called over her shoulder, following behind me at a distance, yet still close enough to intervene if I went off script. “He looks a little unhinged at the moment and the consequences, should he try anything stupid, would not be favorable.”

“Is that a threat, Officer?” Congressman douchebag sneered.

“My apologies for the lack of introductions.” She spun, pulling her credentials out of her back pocket, flashing her federal badge. “I’m Resident Agent in Charge Waverly Mitchell.”

“Why is the FBI involved?” The man, Graceton, queried.

“It’s nothing personal.” She shrugged before giving him her back in the ultimate dismissal.

“Nothing personal?” Chase scoffed. “This is the lying bitch’s boyfriend.”

Playtime was over.

“Turn around. Hands on the wall. Feet spread apart,” I ordered.

“Fuck you.”

Duncan, who’d been about two feet behind me, shifted closer, but the move was unnecessary. I was in complete control of my emotions. Nothing the little fucker said would make me jeopardize the case by lashing out…at least not in front of so many witnesses.

“You’re not my type.”

Reaching out, I grabbed his left wrist. Using momentum and probably more force than was needed, I spun his body around until he slammed, face-first, against the front of the house with a satisfying grunt of pain. Pulling his other wrist behind his back, I held on to both in one hand as I reached for the set of cuffs the closest officer handed me. The sound of the metal teeth locking into place around his wrist was music to my ears. It also must’ve been the moment when the reality of the situation hit the bastard in my hold. He began to struggle and I grinned. I hadn’t double locked his shiny new bracelets yet, so the more he fought, the tighter they got.

Game on, motherfucker.

Pressing the full weight of my body up against his, I leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “I warned you to stay away from Henley, asshole. Enjoy being Bubba’s bitch in lockup.”

The Huntington PD guys stepped forward, looping their arms underneath one of Chase’s with their hands coming to rest on his shoulder for maximum control. They began leading his more compliant form down the stone staircase with the four of us following behind.

“My team will have him out in an hour,” the senior McArthur scoffed.

Waverly stopped halfway down and pivoted on her high-heeled shoes. “A bit of advice here, Congressman. If you spent less energy trying to figure out ways to tax the good citizens of West Virginia for the air they breathe and more time focusing on your son, he might not be in handcuffs right now.”

“I’ll have your job for this.”

“Bigger assholes than you have tried and failed, but let me know how it works out for ya.” She winked.

We wouldn’t bother heading to the local precinct since our tiny part in getting justice for Henley was over the second I slapped the cuffs on his wrists. Shayne’s team had collected video footage of the attack the day before from two separate businesses who had cameras at their back doors, plus they were able to locate the man who scared Chase and his cronies off. Add in the recording Nelson recovered from Henley’s busted phone and their case was solid; a slam dunk.

Since Duncan drove, I climbed in the back seat of the government-issued SUV, wanting the space, and took out my cell. Both Waverly and Duncan’s began ringing simultaneously, but I tuned out everything except my girl.

Me: Hey, baby. It’s done.

Henley: You got him? He’s in jail?

Me: He’s on his way there, yes.

Henley: OMG I can’t believe it.

Me: He’s looking at quite a few years behind bars, so believe it.

Henley: Thank you so much, Keaton. You have no idea what this means to me.

Me: I think a little celebration is in order.

Henley: What do you have in mind?

Me: There’s a bar and grill near my apartment called Sunset. We usually go there when we close a case, so how about you and Jade meet us there around six?

After yesterday, Shirley, the owner of Over Easy, had already given both girls the day off. Henley had been so worried about her friend; she begged me to drop her off on my way to the office this morning. She planned to hang out there most of the day anyway and after Koen’s extreme reaction to the petite brunette, I was curious to see if something was brewing between them.

Henley: Sounds great. We’ll see you then.

“Did you hear a damn thing she said, Keaton?” Duncan bellowed .

“Huh?”

“Jesus fuck. Get your head out of your ass.”

“Our killer attempted to nab another young woman overnight in a truck stop fifteen miles outside of town.” Waverly turned sideways in her seat. “Fortunately, she was carrying a can of mace on her keychain and was able to get away with only a few minor bumps and bruises. Lanie and Koen are on the way to the hospital now to get her statement.”

“Where’s Noah?” I asked.

“We’re meeting him at the scene,” Duncan answered. “Once she sprayed him in the face, a couple truck drivers heard the commotion and came to her aid. Your boy took off on foot through the woods rather than jumping in his car. The state police have a dog on the ground tracking his scent.”

“So we have his vehicle which means we might get DNA.”

“And hopefully we’ll have some sort of description.” Waverly adjusted her seat belt, turning back around to face forward.

All thoughts of the previous hour left my head in a rush as a different sort of high took its place. It was always the same. Adrenaline surged through every cell in my body with the knowledge we were one step closer to taking him down; one step closer to snuffing out his twisted brand of fuckery before any more lives were destroyed.

“Where’s your head at, kid?”

“I’m not the same seventeen-year-old punk anymore, Duncan.”

“Never said you were. Doesn’t mean this case isn’t dredging up old memories. If you need an outlet, we’re here for you. No questions asked. ”

“Appreciate it, but I’m good.”

“She’s good for you, Keaton,” Waverly spoke up. “Have you told Jasper and Heather about her?”

“I’m trying not to scare her off, thank you very much.”

“Yeah.” She chuckled. “Heather will have your wedding planned, complete with written vows before you have a chance to pick out a ring.” Silence fell through the vehicle. “Aw, fuck. You don’t have a ring already, do you?”

“I haven’t even told her I love her yet, Waverly.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t have a ring.”

“Thank God for small miracles.”

“Yet.”

“Well, damn.”

Damn indeed.

Henley

“Can I get you anything?”

“If you don’t sit down and stop trying to clean my spotless house, I’m going to get a complex.”

Spotless was an understatement, considering she shared the space with a teenage boy, but I had so much pent-up energy bursting to be set free, the only other option was baking. I was halfway decent in the kitchen, could hold my own as far as cooking a mean meal, however my snickerdoodle cookies were sinfully delicious. They also never lasted long enough to cool down, so for the sake of my hips, I plopped down on the sofa next to her.

“I’m sor?—”

“Do not say you’re sorry again, Henley.”

What I’d seen of Jade’s house so far was fantastic. It was an old Victorian-style cottage which—in its day—was likely the talk of the town. Unfortunately, “its day” was a half a century ago, though with a few updates and repairs, it could easily come to life once more.

The canary-yellow exterior, which was more of a dingy brown from years of neglect, was peeling in long lines from top to bottom. When you stepped inside, a few walls had recently been stripped and repainted, while others were covered in the most headache-inducing floral tapestry wallpaper known to man. Those would definitely need to go. What amazed me though, was the intricacy and fine detail etched into the built-in wooden banister which led to the second floor. The design had to take years to carve out.

“You wouldn’t have been hurt if it wasn’t for me, Jade.”

“That’s a load of shit and you know it.” She held up her ace-wrapped wrist. “First of all, this is barely a sprain. I’ve had worse untangling Jett’s clothes from the washing machine.”

I smiled at the mental image because, yeah…I’d fought and lost many battles with the agitator. The strings of my apron wrapped around one last week and it took me thirty minutes to free it.

“Second, unless your name is Chase McArthur, none of this is remotely your fault. Enough about that creep. He and his overinflated ego are on the way to the big house anyway. Give me the deets on you and your sexy Special Agent.”

“I love him,” I blurted, covering my mouth with my hand as soon as I said the words.

“Anyone with two eyes can see that, Henley. I want the 4-1-1. Spill all the tea, girlfriend. How is he in bed?”

“Holy crap.” My cheeks flamed so hot I had to fan myself with my hands.

“Damn. That good? I’ve had sex exactly one time four years ago, so I’m gonna need to live vicariously through you.”

“Um, what?” I screeched. “How is that possible?”

“I gave up my virginity to my high school boyfriend on my eighteenth birthday. The next morning when I got home, I found the letter giving me Jett.”

“No one since?” I sat forward, putting my elbows to my knees.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. When did this become about my neglected kitty bits? We were discussing you and your hot cop.”

For so many reasons, we burst out into hysterics. The last twenty-four hours had been some of the worst I’d ever experienced, while also being some of the greatest. Growing up, friendships were never my strong suit. The girls at school treated me like a pariah, like I was Typhoid Mary walking around with some incurable disease they’d catch if they got too close. When Mom died, I lost my confidant, my best friend. She was the only person I trusted with my innermost thoughts and desires. Nana Rita—God bless her—did her best to become what I needed, but the memories were too overwhelming. That was when she suggested the move. New place, new people, new surroundings, yet the same old loneliness was tearing me apart from the inside.

I’d come to the conclusion no one would be able to fill the void Mom left behind, then yesterday happened and I realized the hole in my heart had already begun to heal. All because of a bossy federal agent who’d shouldered his way into my life. So much good could be attributed to his presence.

Before Keaton, I wouldn’t have had the confidence to put myself out there with Jade, which—truth be told—would have been tragic. She had this incredible inner light, bursting at the seams to surround you with its warmth. It was infectious. She was infectious and I couldn’t help but feel protective of our newfound friendship, which was why I felt horrible she’d been dragged into my nightmare.

Then there was Lanie, Noah, and Koen; three of the most loyal, kindhearted, trustworthy people I’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. They may have started on this journey because of Keaton. However, it became apparent last night, they’d stayed the course because of me. There was no way to fake the level of concern and indignation I saw on their faces. It was a foreign concept I didn’t know what to do with.

“Where’d you go?” Jade’s sweet voice interrupted my inner monologue.

“Chasing rainbows, I guess.” Her face screwed up in confusion, so I explained, “It was something my mom used to say when I was daydreaming.”

“You don’t really speak about your mom.” She reached over, wrapping her fingers around mine. “I’m here if you ever wanna talk about her.”

“It’s not a very glamorous story.”

“Um, hello? My drugged-out parents left me in charge of a twelve-year-old. I’m the queen of shock and awe. Bring it on.”

Hours melted into a sea of memories, both of us clinging to one another like a lifeline meant to save us from our painful pasts. The tales we shared, while vastly different, ended with heartbreak, though my loss couldn’t even compare to the responsibility forced upon her at such a young age. You see, Jade didn’t start caring for Jett when she turned eighteen, she’d been doing it all along. From the moment he came into the world, she stood between him and the kind of cruelty no child should ever have to endure. Their parents weren’t just neglectful, they were abusive and unfit and selfish, and I hoped they were suffering the consequences of their actions, wherever they were.

We cried rivulets of tears and when we were done, we laughed until our bellies hurt.

“What the hell is going on here?” A deep voice boomed. Standing in the archway between the hallway and living room, was a handsome young man with features almost identical to Jade’s.

“Language, Jett,” she admonished. “Come meet my friend, Henley. Henley, this is my pain-in-the-ass brother.”

“So you can say ass, but I get fussed at over saying hell? The double standards are strong with you, dear sister.”

“When you become an adult, you can say whatever you like. Until then, deal with it.”

“Okay. I will.”

He moved like lightning across the floor, his long legs narrowing the gap between them in seconds. I lurched backward, my heart pounding out of my chest, when he leaped over the back of the couch, practically landing on top of her. I had no idea what was happening until she squealed with laughter. Only then did I realize he was tickling her.

“Get off of me, you big oaf.” She thrashed underneath him, pushing at his chest until he popped up off the couch.

“I win,” he said with a grin.

“Is this what it’s like to have a sibling?”

“Yeah.” She ran a hand through her hair, using her fingers to straighten the mess they’d made during their skirmish. “Even when he acts like a buffoon, I wouldn’t trade him for a million bucks.”

“I’d trade you for fifty.” He stuck out his tongue.

“Don’t you have homework to finish?”

“Nah. Did it during my free period.”

“What grade are you in, Jett?”

“Tenth, although I’d be finished with high school already if someone ––” he glared pointedly at his sister “––had let me skip grades a few years ago.”

“I didn’t want you to miss out?” she pouted.

“Miss out on what? Being a nobody? Well, good job, sis. Mission accomplished.”

The tension in the room was unmistakable; so much so it made me feel like an interloper. My experience with siblings was nonexistent, even still, I knew they wouldn’t always get along. There was something different here though.

“Maybe I should give you two some space.”

“Please don’t leave. I’m being a jerk.” Jett’s remorseful eyes turned to his sister. “Sorry. I thought I was over it, but I guess I’m still a little salty.”

“You know I only did what I thought was best.” She stood, wrapping him in her arms.

At nearly sixteen years old, Jett had a good four inches on her, with plenty more years to grow. He returned the hug, then after planting a kiss on the top of her head, he stepped back. The fire I’d seen flaming in his eyes had been reduced to a smoldering pile of ash; doused by the love he had for his sister.

The ringing of my phone interrupted the moment, sending me scurrying down the hall to give them some privacy. Looking at the screen, my anxiety hit an all-time high, thinking something had to have happened for him to be calling after we’d made plans earlier via text.

“Keaton? Are you okay?” I rushed to answer.

“I’m good, but something came up with our case, so we need to push the celebratory dinner to seven instead of six.”

Car doors slammed and several muffled voices could be heard in the background. Not wanting to keep him from his job any longer than necessary, I responded with, “Okay.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you in a few hours. Love you, baby.”

Wait. What?

He hung up before I had a chance to respond, but really, what do you say when the man you’re in love with professes his love for you for the first time over the phone? I have no doubt the words slipped out, but, seriously? What did I do with that?