Chapter 6

Laurel pushed away the now-scraped-clean plate of her mom's pot roast dinner and patted her stomach. The cat she'd rescued last month, Fred Lacassagne, slept on her foot. "I ate too much."

Her mom chuckled, appearing at ease at the country-style kitchen table, one leg tucked beneath the other and her posture perfect. "You probably ate just the right amount. Although, you look tired."

"I am." Laurel stretched her neck. "It was a long day." She couldn't believe they'd found the body just that morning.

"I'm glad you came home tonight."

Laurel found peace in the quiet kitchen. "I haven't seen you for a few days and thought I should check in. Before I forget, the new huckleberry-rhubarb tea is my favorite so far."

"Nice to know." Deidre stood and reached for a notepad from the counter to scrawl notations across it. "What did you like best about that blend?"

"The concoction tasted like huckleberries and rhubarb pie while soothing my stomach."

Deidre stretched into a casual yoga pose. "Yes, there's some peppermint in there." She looked healthy with her trim physique, a clip holding her chin-length blond hair away from her face. She'd practiced yoga as long as Laurel could remember and even wore a yoga outfit most of the time. "I'm not sure about the in-person store, though."

Laurel shrugged. "Why don't you commit to a six-month experiment, and if you don't enjoy yourself, we can either hire somebody else to manage the store or cut the lease short. The documents I drafted protect you either way."

"Of course they do." Deidre retook her seat. "How is Huck?" It was nice that her mother was finally warming toward Huck. She'd never been a fan of men in general, and Laurel couldn't blame her.

"He's doing well. He had to give an interview to a local podcast, so I'm sure he's in a grouchy mood." Which was one of the reasons she'd decided to stay the night at her mother's home.

Deidre speared a carrot from her plate. "He's not much in favor of the media, is he? Although, I don't blame him."

"Neither do I," Laurel said. "I'll call him later to see how the interview went."

"So"—Deidre cleared her throat—"have you two announced the pregnancy yet?"

Laurel took a sip of her sparkling water. "No. We'll wait until the second trimester. I'm not ready to share the news with anyone else yet."

Her mother studied her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," Laurel said, and then quickly decided to be truthful. "I don't think I can be the mother that you are." There, she'd finally said the words.

Deidre shocked her by laughing. "Of course, you won't be the mother I am. You'll be the mother you are. You can't compare yourself to anybody else, Laurel. I believe you learned that a very long time ago."

The truth in that statement caught Laurel. "Yes, but children require affection and fun and goofiness and love. Everything I do comes from the brain, not the heart."

Deidre tilted her head. "So? Maybe your kid will be the same."

Laurel took another drink. "What if I'm more like Abigail than like you?" She wasn't one to express fears because there was no logic in doing so. Yet this one would not leave her alone.

Deidre slapped a palm on the weathered table. "That's one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard. Abigail is a crazy psychopath, and you are a sweetheart, as am I." She grinned. "This baby will get the best of all of us, including Huck, who seems like a fairly sentimental guy." Not many people in town would consider Huck to be anywhere near sentimental, but Deidre saw things in people that Laurel never did.

"He has become rather overprotective. I imagine he'll be so with his child as well."

"I imagine so," Deidre said dryly. "I'm rather surprised he hasn't popped the question."

Laurel blinked. "Why would he do that?"

Deidre stared at her for a moment. "Because you're having a baby together. He seems like a rather old-fashioned guy. Isn't that what normally happens?"

Laurel gently nudged Fred off her foot, stood, and took her plate to the sink. "I have no idea." She cared about the captain, but she'd never envisioned herself being married—or having a child for that matter. Yet here she stood, pregnant.

Her mom brought over her own plate and slipped an arm around Laurel's waist. "I didn't say that to cause you concern. The idea just popped into my head."

"I know." Laurel leaned into her mom.

"Plus, look at the bright side," Deidre said. "Hopefully, the baby will get Huck's height or even mine. I'm not sure why you're so short."

Laurel elbowed her, understanding intellectually that her mom was trying to lighten the mood. "I'm not short." Yet every available metric showed her to be shorter than the average woman. Such a silly and inconsequential thing should not bother her to the degree that it did. "I need to buy more heels."

Her mom chuckled. "Good one."

Laurel took a deep breath, noting her mother's clear eyes and strong posture. Now was a good time to discuss a difficult topic. "How are you doing now that Zeke Caine is back in town?" The pastor had raped Deidre, and it couldn't be easy knowing he was close. That he was Laurel's father.

Deidre's chin lowered. "I'm fine. Mostly because my daughter, the brilliant FBI agent, is going to discover one of his more recent crimes and put him away."

That was absolutely Laurel's plan. The statute of limitations had run out on the crime against her mother, but certainly the bastard had committed other ones. "I am going to do exactly that."

Deidre smiled. "I know. For now, why don't you go get started with your knitting and I'll do the dishes."

"I can do the dishes," Laurel said.

"Go." Deidre gently nudged her.

Laurel happily wandered to the back of the house where they'd set up a knitting room. In college she'd discovered a need for knitted boots and hats for premature babies and so had created a nonprofit organization that now served hospitals all over the country. To relax, she and her mother both knitted, and then sent the results to the warehouse for distribution. She sat in a comfortable recliner chair and reached for light blue yarn to begin a new set of booties. Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her back pocket. "Agent Snow."

"Hey, it's Huck. Did you get a good dinner?"

Her stomach felt full. "I had pot roast. You are welcome to come over and have a plate, if you like."

"Thanks," he muttered. "But I'm going to take the dog home. We both need to run for a while." Huck often jogged to keep in shape and stave off stress.

She pursed her lips. "You've been working out a lot lately."

"I need to run off the interview with Rachel," he retorted.

Realization rustled through Laurel's brain. "Oh." She had missed the inference in his words. "Do you believe the interview will be beneficial?"

"I do," he said. "Otherwise, I'd be putting my head through a wall right now. We managed to get Abbott's face on the screen as well as the number for the 24-hour hotline. I'm hopeful somebody will call in a good lead."

"As am I." She pressed the phone's speaker button and began to knit. "My mother seems to think that the baby will inherit the good parts of all of us. What do you think?"

"I'm hoping the kid has my height," Huck returned easily.

Laurel snorted. "As am I, but you know we have no control over which chromosomes we pass on to offspring." Or was he trying to ease her mind? He might have been joking, but she really did want the child to have his height.

"I hope he or she has your eyes."

Laurel sat back, her fingers moving quickly. "I don't know if I do. People view me as an oddity, and it took me awhile to become accustomed to it. You have pretty eyes, Huck. They're more than brown, kind of amber. Maybe the baby should have your eyes."

"I don't think we get to choose. Remember?" Huck laughed. "It sounds like you and your mother had a nice talk."

"We did, but I still hold concerns that I lack the appropriate skills to be a good mother."

Huck scoffed. "As long as you stick around, you're better than the mother I got."

Was there pain in his voice? She couldn't tell. "I don't know why your mother left, but I imagine she regretted that decision her entire life."

"I don't know." Huck sighed. "Damn it."

Her fingers slowed. "What?"

"I have a car in front of me weaving all over the place. I think someone's been drinking." The sound of a siren echoed over the line as he no doubt flicked his on. "I have to go, Laurel. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Have a good night, Huck."

The sound of the gear shift being locked into Park clunked through the line. "You, too, and we'll worry about all of this later."

"I like that plan. Good night." She continued to knit, trying to banish her erratic concerns. Hopefully Huck would call in backup. Should she have suggested it?

* * *

The Cadillac in front of Huck had swerved over to the side and hit a dirty snowbank. He called in for backup from the county, finishing with, "I'm going to need somebody else to bring the driver in for processing. I have my truck with the dog in the back and am unable to transport." He clicked off just as a car rolled to a stop behind him. His hand on his weapon, he stretched out of the vehicle, turning.

"Hey, Huck, it's just me," Rachel Raprenzi called out, stepping out of her dark blue compact behind him.

"Get back in the vehicle," he said, using his best cop voice. "Now."

She faltered and then did as he said. Great, now the reporter was following him? He'd already called in the license number of the vehicle in front of him, and he walked toward the passenger door, angling his head to make sure there wasn't anybody in the back seat. He had to knock on the front door window. It slowly rolled down.

"What's wrong, Officer?" a female voice slurred.

He pointed his flashlight inside the vehicle to see the mayor's wife in the front seat, her eyes bloodshot and the smell of alcohol pouring from her. Just wonderful. This was all he needed. "Do you know why I pulled you over?"

"I do not." She hiccupped. "I do know that you're messing with the wrong person, so I suggest you get back in your truck." She narrowed her gaze. "I know you, don't I?"

"Captain Huck Rivers," he said. "License and registration, please."

She snorted. "You know who I am. I'm Teri Bearing, the mayor's wife."

"Yes, I remember." Huck had interviewed her for an earlier case. At the time, she had seemed like a nice person. "Mrs. Bearing, have you been drinking tonight?"

"No," she said.

Right. She smelled as if she'd crashed into a liquor store. "License and registration, please."

"I am not going to put up with this indignity," she snapped. "Now get the hell away from my car."

He held on to his patience with both hands. "Mrs. Bearing, I need you to give me your license and your registration, and we'll go from there. All right?"

"No." She started to roll her window up.

He put a hand on top of the car. "If you don't give me those documents, I'm going to have to arrest you. Now, it's a cold night and I don't want to ask you to get out of the car quite yet, so how about you hand those over?"

"No." She opened her door suddenly, slamming the metal into his legs. He stepped back, anger whipping through him. Yet he kept his hands loose. She jumped out of the car, slid on the ice, and grabbed her door. "Now you listen to me. My husband runs this town. I'm not going to take this bullshit from you."

Dressed in a flashy white sweater and tight leather pants, her red-bottomed boots were causing her problems on the ice.

A light flashed to his right, and he noted Rachel approaching with the camera in her phone lit up. He gave her a look. "Get back in your vehicle. I'm not going to tell you again. I'll arrest you as well."

The reporter backed away.

Police lights swirled through the darkness as a county patrol officer rolled onto the scene. His hand on his weapon, the man stepped out of his vehicle. "We have a problem here?"

Huck nodded. "Yes. The driver was maneuvering erratically, and she refuses to hand over a license or her registration."

Mrs. Bearing punched him in the shoulder. "You're not even a real cop. You're Fish and Wildlife."

"Actually, ma'am, we are fully commissioned police officers," he said.

She glared at the other officer. "Then why'd you call for backup?"

"So somebody could take you in," Huck retorted. He didn't want her in the back of his truck with the dog, so it had been necessary.

The county cop hitched up his belt. "Ma'am, can we please have your license and registration?"

"Who are you?" she hissed.

"I am Deputy John McDonald from Tempest County," the guy said smoothly.

Huck nodded. "Huck Rivers."

"Pleasure," the deputy returned. "Ma'am, have you been drinking tonight? I smell alcohol."

Teri Bearing glared at him. "I'm the wife of the mayor here in Genesis Valley. I have not been drinking, which I just told this Fish and Wildlife officer. This is harassment, and I will not stand for it." She lifted a hand.

"Ma'am, if you hit me again, I'm going to arrest you for battery," Huck said, wanting nothing more than to get home.

She dropped her hand. "This is unreal. This will not be tolerated."

"All right, ma'am," the deputy said. "Hand over your license and registration."

"Fine." She leaned back into the car, grabbed the documents, and slapped them at the deputy. "I'll deal with you, not the Fish and Wildlife moron."

Huck looked at the sheriff's deputy, who shrugged. "Fine. I'll handle the rest of this if you want to be going."

"I really do," Huck said. "Are you sure you've got this?"

"Yes. We're going to run through a field sobriety test. And then, ma'am, I'm going to ask you to take a breathalyzer."

She stomped her foot. "I will not."

Huck paused. "I'll just stand over there by my rig." He seemed to agitate the woman for some reason, but he wasn't leaving the other officer without backup.

"Good plan," McDonald said.

Mrs. Bearing failed the field sobriety test and then the breathalyzer, so Deputy McDonald handcuffed her and led her to his car.

Huck leaned against his truck. "I'll call for a tow." "Thanks," McDonald said. "I'll get her processed. I'm sure she'll be out in no time, though." He sounded sympathetic.

Huck turned to open his door.

"That was fun," Rachel said, popping up from the rear of his vehicle, her phone safely out of the way.

"I told you to get back in your vehicle."

She rocked back on her heels, smiling wildly. "They're gone now. I don't have to."

"Please tell me you didn't record that entire situation."

Her laugh sounded gleeful. "Of course, I recorded the unfortunate situation with the mayor's wife. Are you kidding me? This is going to make great copy. I'm going live with it in about an hour. Hopefully we can catch the mayor bailing his wife out."

Huck jumped into his truck. Just great.