Breathe

Chapter Twelve Family

Faye’s fidgeting beside him in his truck caught his attention so Chace reached out a hand and tagged hers. He linked their fingers and pulled their hands to his thigh.

They were on their way to her parents’ house and she was anxious. This was, she told him when he gently pressed it out of her, not because she was worried about what they would think of him. But what he would think of them.

“They’re a little um… nutty,” she’d said.

“There’s good nutty and bad nutty. My guess is they’re good nutty,” he’d replied.

She gave him a cute but dubious look and went on.

“And loud.”

Chace didn’t reply.

“And opinionated,” she continued.

Chace just grinned at her.

“And in your business,” she carried on.

Chace’s arms, already around her, tightened and his grin got bigger.

“I’m kind of the black sheep. I mean, they all read but none of them are shy, um… at all,” she kept going.

“You love them?” Chace had asked. When he got her nod he finished quietly on a squeeze of his arms, “Then I will too.”

This served to calm her and earn him a smile.

But about a minute ago, his assurance wore off.

Once they got there, she’d settle in and be okay.

As for Chace, he wasn’t worried. Getting the invitation to dinner from Silas Goodknight after he came for his visit and the reason he came for that visit, Chace figured he did something of which Silas approved.

As for the other Goodknights, Faye liked him and he reckoned that was all he needed. If they were good people and they loved Faye, both of which he knew was true, they’d either look deep to see what Faye saw in him or they’d bury their feelings so it wouldn’t distress her. Of what he already knew about them around town and from Faye’s talk, he already knew he liked them.

Therefore, he wasn’t driving to dinner concerned about how the dinner would go.

No, he had a variety of other things weighing on his mind.

The first was Malachi.

As far as they could find, the kid didn’t exist.

This came from Chace checking Colorado Vital Records and finding nothing on a Malachi of their Malachi’s approximate age being born in the State of Colorado. It also came from Chace contacting local and not so local schools. Chace, Frank and Deck pulled favors with folks they knew and looked into the school systems in and around Aspen, Grand Junction, Glenwood Springs, Montrose and even as far away as Denver. Although several Malachis were enrolled, none of them matched their Malachi’s age.

Chace, Deck, Frank and other officers asked around town to see if anyone not only had seen Malachi recently but also if they’d seen him before. Except for a few folks reporting they thought they might have, it was nothing concrete and, outside of maybe noticing him, they had no more.

It wasn’t surprising that he was good at being invisible.

It was surprising that it appeared he didn’t exist at all.

Chace could see him roaming but not very far. In that day and age, folks didn’t pick up kids and give them a ride without having concerns, asking questions and usually reporting it or straight up taking the kid to the authorities. So although Chace could see him making his way to Carnal from another town, even another county, he couldn’t imagine he got there from Denver much less another state.

He’d set an intern on it and there was no one of his name or matching his description on the missing person’s database.

This and his disappearance did not bode well. Even if Faye and Chace freaked the kid out with Faye standing by the return bin on Monday or he’d made them sitting in the truck, the kid had to eat and they’d backed off. Faye kept his stash outside by the return bin even when they weren’t watching. She’d also posted a laminated note on the side of the library asking anyone who discovered the bags to leave them for Malachi.

They’d been left for Malachi. She left the library half an hour before and reported to him they were there. For the last week, every time they came back in the morning, they were still there.

This left plenty of time for him to sneak to the library when he knew they weren’t watching.

It could be he’d noticed or heard somehow that Deck was on his trail. But since Deck hadn’t even picked up a scent and the kid made no connections with anyone but Faye, Chace couldn’t fathom how.

The kid was nine or ten and as far as Chace knew didn’t have superpowers or the capacity for clairvoyance. He was in survival mode and would take chances in order at the very least to eat.

The longer he remained gone, the more Chace’s, and Faye’s, concern escalated.

But this was not the only thing weighing on Chace’s mind.

The town had not surprisingly not rejoiced at Darren Newcomb’s murder.

It wasn’t that he was well-liked. He was roundly hated. But it was the same as Misty. No one felt he deserved that and further, no one felt his kids did.

They were braced for whatever might come next after what had already happened. It didn’t take someone with the powers of deduction akin to Sherlock Holmes’s to know that Newcomb’s murder might be the tip of the iceberg.

As a matter of course in the investigation of Darren Newcomb’s murder, Newcomb’s home had been searched and Clinton Bonar and the men he’d worked for had received visits from Frank.

It was also not a surprise that they found Newcomb’s house had been tossed and whoever tossed it did a thorough job. Almost the entirety of it was destroyed. Couch cushions torn open. Mattresses slashed. Carpet pulled up. Linoleum ripped away. Dresser drawers broken. Even pockets in clothing turned inside out or ripped out completely.

Whether they found what they were looking for was anyone’s guess.

Chace had visited the scene. Even though Frank was primary that didn’t mean Chace wasn’t still looking for his unwanted but dead wife’s murderer.

What he saw made him come to some conclusions.

Newcomb and Misty’s murderer, if they were the same person, knew that when he did Misty his tracks would be covered by the dirt at CPD. That didn’t mean he wasn’t careful with everything but his semen. With Newcomb, he left them nothing. Whoever tossed Newcomb’s house also left nothing but a mess. No prints. No one had heard anything or seen anything. Then again, Newcomb lived local but removed, up in the hills at the east of town. The closest house was a wood away. Easy not to hear or see a thing.

Still, Chace didn’t think the killer did the search. He reckoned the man got in, did his thing, and got the fuck out. Whoever went through Newcomb’s house took their time. A man with one, possibly two local murders on his hands would not hang around.

This meant Bonar and the Boys had a team working Carnal and therefore shit hitting the town was shittier.

Further, Bonar and the Boys were not thrilled to get visits from Frank.

This was communicated through voicemail by Bonar and Chace’s father. He’d ignored both calls and listened only to Bonar’s message. He deleted his father’s without listening. This was because, from experience, he knew that even the man’s voice set his teeth on edge in a way that could stick with him for days.

But he’d replied to Bonar in a text, Threat was made against Newcomb to a police officer. This was reported. Murder investigated by the book.

This was all he said, he felt it said it all so he intended to say no more. After receiving this text Bonar had called him three times. Chace had answered the calls then immediately ended the calls without even putting the phone to his ear, taking away Bonar’s opportunity to leave a message.

He gave up.

But Chace knew they hadn’t.

Chace knew Newcomb was a moron, racist pig who beat his wife but he was not stupid enough to keep the shit he had on those men at his house and he was a good enough father not to want it close to his kids. Where he kept it or who he gave it to either still had it and were in danger or it had been found and the threat was over.

Frank was looking into the former and not coming up with much.

They’d have to wait and see if it was the latter.

If this wasn’t enough to make his thoughts heavy, there was more.

The library.

Chace had made five calls to the president of the City Council asking for specifics about the future of the library and when the library’s possible closure would come up for public discussion at an open Council meeting.

Although all his calls and messages were taken by Cesar Moreno’s assistant, Chace had not received a call back.

Chace knew Cesar Moreno, the City Council president. He knew him as a good man, a family man and a devoted husband. The kind of husband who still held hands with his wife even though they’d been married eighteen years. The kind of father who was always at his three sons’ baseball games. The kind of father who doted on his only daughter like she was a princess.

In fact, his daughter’s Quinceañera last year was such a huge event, it was still talked about. Well-attended, most the town invited, no expense spared and all of the traditional ceremonies, such as the Thanksgiving mass, the donning of the crown and the changing of the shoes were performed.

Chace knew Cesar well enough he was invited to the Quinceañera but since Misty was still alive and he’d have to bring her, as he usually did when they received an invitation as husband and wife, he declined attending.

Cesar knew Chace enough to understand.

Misty had been devastated. She liked a good party, a chance to dress up and a further chance to strut around on Chace’s arm. This was why he very rarely gave her those opportunities. That and he couldn’t stomach spending time with her.

Cesar had also kicked in the instant shit went down at CPD. His hands were tied when Arnie was at his zenith of power and he didn’t like it. But he was smart enough to keep quiet about it in order to protect himself and his family from being targeted and he did what he could within the Council and as an advisor and leader in the town.

Therefore, the moment he could begin clean up, he did. Openly, honestly, quickly, no red tape and a great deal of communication. The goal was to communicate to the town that the storm had passed and it was a dawn of a new day. Chace knew he threw himself into this including spending countless hours engaged in reorganizing the Department, searching for replacement personnel, hiring and working with consultants and holding town meetings to gather feedback and keep citizens informed.

So his non-response to Chace was a surprise Chace didn’t like and further didn’t get. From what he knew of Cesar, he was a civic leader, a cultural leader, a respected businessman and a decent family man. He was honest, direct and approachable.

This was not his MO at all.

And Chace didn’t like it.

“Please don’t curse.”

Faye’s voice took him out of his thoughts and he asked, “What?”

He felt her eyes on him so he glanced at her before looking back at the road as she repeated, “Please don’t curse in front of my family.”

“Faye –”

Her hand gave his a squeeze and he felt her body lean toward him as she went on, “You should be you, of course, but Dad’s a deacon at church. He mows their lawn and trims their shrubs in the summer. Mom designs the Sunday programs. And Mom gets mad at me when I say ‘frak’ and that isn’t even a real curse word. But she feels the meaning behind it is enough. I’m twenty-nine but she still hands me guff without hesitation.”

He gave her hand a squeeze back and replied, “First of all, meetin’ your family, I’m not gonna swear. Second, there’ll be kids there so I’m not gonna swear. And last, when your Dad came for his talk, he swore. Repeatedly. One thing your kid doin’ it, she’s a girl, a pretty one at that, as a parent, you feel you can tell her off for it no matter what her age. But a man talkin’ to a man, they’ll say what they like.”

“Dad cursed when he talked to you?”

Her tone was cute, breathy, disbelieving and Chace grinned through the windshield.

“Yep.”

“Really?” she whispered.

“From memory, he said ‘asshole’ more than once, ‘shit’ more than once and if you count ‘piss-ant’, he said that more than once too. There might be others and I don’t recall him droppin’ the f-bomb but he sure as fuck didn’t shy away from colorful language.”

“Holy frak,” she breathed and at that Chace smiled through the windshield.

Then he quit smiling and dropped his voice low to assure her, “Baby, it’s all gonna be good.”

“Well, you got Mom. I’ve never seen a bouquet of flowers this big.”

She was not wrong.

Chace hadn’t ever bought flowers for a woman and seen the results so he didn’t know a fifty dollar bouquet was that huge. He frequently sent flowers to his mother. But he called in the order and rarely saw the result since he rarely went home. Further, he spent seventy-five dollars on his mother’s flowers. Which, from the arrangement currently lying across Faye’s lap that Holly at the flower shop made up, with a gleam in her eye after he told her how much he was wanted to pay, meant his mother’s were likely enormous.

So it was no wonder his Ma always called, beside herself with joy when she got them. He thought she was just being sweet.

“It’s going to be all right,” he told her as he turned down the road northwest of town that led to the Goodknight house, a road nearly directly opposite where Chace’s house was located at the south.

“Liza will probably be inappropriate one way or another,” Faye stated which meant she either ignored him or was so deep in her anxiety, she hadn’t heard him.

“Faye,” he squeezed her hand, “it’s gonna be all right.”

“And she might have a drama or… you know, just so you know, she isn’t adverse to fighting with Boyd in front of people. Even the kids. If it gets rip-roarin’, she’ll tell the boys to go to another room but she doesn’t care who else witnesses it.”

“Faye,” he gave her hand a gentle jerk then held it tight and strong, “I want this to go well for you but, no offense to your family, I do not give a shit about it. I don’t go to sleep with your family. I don’t wake up to your family. I give a shit about you. But honey, that said, honest to God, I’ll like them. I know this because I’ve lived in the same town as them for thirteen years and I already like them. Gettin’ to know them better means I’m just gonna like ‘em more. That goes south for some fucked up reason, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ll be goin’ to sleep with you and I’ll be wakin’ up with you and the rest of it, we’ll deal. Yeah?”

She didn’t reply.

Chace had to let her hand go to make the turn into her folks’ drive and he did both as he prompted again, “Yeah?”

He got no reply until he halted behind a silver Toyota 4Runner.

When he did that, she blurted, “You come from money and you handle elegant champagne glasses that had to cost a mint like they’re plastic.”

His head turned to her to see her face was pale and plainly anxious in the dash lights.

Fuck.

This was a surprise.

Fuck.

He put the truck in park, switched off the ignition and lights and turned to her.

“Come here,” he ordered quietly.

“I’m right here, Chace.”

“Come here,” he repeated.

“But, I’m –”

“Baby, come here.”

She leaned deep into him, stretching across the cab of his truck and resting a hand on his thigh.

He lifted a hand to the side of her neck, slid it back and up into her silken hair and he pulled her two inches closer.

Then he said softly, “I make almost double what you do and live in a ranch-style, four bedroom house on fifteen acres south of town. I got a manageable mortgage because my Ma’s folks left me a trust. That trust isn’t a fortune but it’s a whack. I dipped into it to get the house I wanted to live in and build a family in. I will not touch it again until I get married and have kids. Only then will it be used to make my house a home and to give my kids an education. It will be used for nothin’ else unless, God forbid, there’s an emergency.”

He pulled her an inch closer even as he moved an inch closer to her and kept talking.

“I got a small nest egg that I do what I can to make bigger just because it’s smart. I invest in a retirement plan that will augment my pension because when I’m done and livin’ the good life, I’d like that good to be better. I take two vacations a year, both to bodies of water where I can fish ‘cause I got ski slopes all around and I can go boardin’ whenever the fuck I want. I wear jeans and cowboy boots and I’ll trade up this truck this year because it’s four years old so it’s time. I’ll eat at The Rooster for a special occasion but even though that food is the shit, I’m just as happy with Rosalinda’s and that is no joke.”

He moved his other hand to curl around hers on his thigh and kept quietly going.

“My mother bought me those glasses, darlin’. That was the first time they were ever taken out of the cupboard she put ‘em in. There is other shit in that house Ma got me she thought I had to have and probably all of it is expensive because she can afford it and that’s her way. There is absolutely no shit in that house that belonged to or was purchased by Misty. What those glasses say was my life. I walked away from it when I was seventeen, I never went back, I’ll never go back and I don’t miss it. I don’t give a fuck about champagne glasses. They could be plastic for all I care. They break, they break. You broke, I’d care. Champagne glasses, no. Now you got it all so are you with me on this shit?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes peering deep into his.

She was with him so he gave her the rest of it.

“I already know that family in there is better than the one I grew up in, honey,” he whispered back. “Money and status don’t mean shit. It’s character that means somethin’. My father doesn’t have that. Your father does, he married a woman who has it and together they built a family that has it. You’re nervous and twistin’ shit in that pretty head of yours to make you more nervous. Stop it. This is gonna be fine.”

“Okay,” she said quietly.

“Now you got a job ahead of you and that’s to try real hard not to be cute. When you’re cute, it makes me wanna kiss you in a way a deacon at a church, who still curses just not in front of his daughter, will not like. Since you’re cute all the time, this is gonna be hard for you. But I’m askin’ you to try.”

Her bubblegum lips twitched then she replied softly, “I’ll try.”

Staring at her mouth, he muttered, “And you’ll fail.”

“Chace –” she breathed and his eyes shot back to hers.

“You’re bein’ cute,” he warned.

Her ear dipped to her shoulder and her brows inched together.

Cute.

“I just said your name.”

“All it takes.”

Her head righted, her eyes went hooded, her lips parted and she gave him her look.

Then she gave him more cute and he was fucking thrilled to take it.

“Seriously,” she whispered, near reverent, beyond adorable, “you’re fraking awesome.”

He loved it that she felt that way.

And he hoped to Christ she always would.

Chace grinned before he used his hand to pull her close and dip her down so he could kiss her nose. They could have an audience but she was chewing gum. He tasted her, especially with the additional element of bubblemint, they wouldn’t head inside for fifteen minutes.

Then he pulled her back and stated, “Let’s go in.”

She nodded, started to move away and he let her go.

He waited for her to round the truck before he took her hand and guided her to the lit front door.

He’d been out this way on numerous occasions when he was in a cruiser on patrol and for a variety of business during his tenure at CPD. The road that led to the Goodknight house did not dead end at the hills west of town but meandered up them and through the mountains. There were ranches off that road, a couple of units of rental condos for residents and for vacationers and, higher up the mountain, a few large homes owned by wealthy residents or kept as second houses to wealthier non-residents. He’d long since known where the Goodknights lived mostly because, after he’d spotted Faye, he put that one with the one of their name on the mailbox on the street and got two so that house hit his radar.

Their house was split level and, by the look of it, built in the 70’s. Likely family room, dining room, kitchen and other common areas on the lower level, living room and bedrooms up top or vice versa. Seeing as from the road you couldn’t see an elevated deck leading off the upper level but instead a dug out patio leading from the lower one, he was guessing the family areas were down below.

As they made their approach, they were, surprisingly, not greeted at the door. Instead, Faye let them in without knocking and while Chace was closing the door to the March evening Colorado cold, she shouted, “We’re here!”

That was when it began. Something Chace thought he was prepared for.

Something, he was not.

A night in a normal, average family home with a normal, average family that was nutty, loud, opinionated but funny, immensely close and teasingly loving.

They were still standing on the stone tiled landing that had a half flight of stairs leading up to an open space living room to their left and a half flight leading down straight into a kitchen right in front of them. Upon Faye’s shout, two boys, her nephews, Jarot and Robbie, came racing up the steps. The older one had dark brown hair with a hint of red. The younger one had Faye’s hair.

He thought they were racing to greet their Aunt Faye but he would immediately discover they weren’t when they both came to rocking halts in front of him, tipped their heads back and spoke in unison… loudly.

“Show us your badge!” Jarot demanded on a shout.

“Gun!” Robbie screeched.

Apparently, it had been shared with the boys he was a cop.

“Um… can Detective Keaton show you his badge after you say hello to your Auntie Faye, I introduce you to Detective Keaton and maybe he gets a drink, sits down and relaxes?” Faye suggested in a practiced-sounding tone that was mixture of mild exasperation and “aren’t my nephews adorably naughty?”

“Right,” Jarot backed down, moving toward Faye and allowing her, with a soon-to-be nine year old’s obvious reluctance, to give him a short hug and an even shorter peck on the cheek.

“Gun!” Robbie repeated on a screech, ignoring his aunt completely.

“Robbie! Mind your manners!” a woman reproached and Chace’s eyes went to the stairs.

Chace had seen Faye in town with her sister, Sondra and Silas and it was her sister, Liza, who was approaching.

God had seen fit to grant Faye with her father’s unusual blue eyes and her mother’s unusual auburn hair. He’d seen fit to grant Liza Newman with her mother’s dark brown eyes and her father’s dark brown hair. Both were nice but Faye’s combination was a knockout while Liza’s was simply appealing.

That said, she was attractive but her hair was cut short. A style that she wore well and it suited her but it was something Chace did not often find appealing. She’d had two children but her ass and tits were less abundant than her sister’s on a frame that both women inherited from their mother. Same height, same tiny waist, body meant to be hourglass, not streamlined. This meant she took more than passing care of herself and therefore likely dieted. She didn’t look gaunt or in a bad mood because she needed a sandwich since she’d only had a protein bar between breakfast and now. But it wasn’t a look that Chace found appealing either.

Last, Faye was wearing a little jeans skirt through the belt loops of which she’d threaded a bright scarf that she’d tied off to one side in a bow. Up top, she had on a dark green, lightweight sweater under a canvas jacket. The sweater fit well and its neckline had bits that draped in interesting ways making the sweater do what only Faye could naturally do. It hinted at skin and curves without highlighting either at the same time drawing your attention to both.

She was wearing a pair of cowboy boots he’d never seen before that were sweet in their own right but even sweeter on Faye. Fawn suede heavily embroidered with bright stitching. The stitching included yellow and orange that was random detailing, there were some green stitched vines and last there were vibrant pink flowers.

In her outfit, Faye looked what she was. A native Colorado mountain girl who worked in a library and her native was native seeing as a line of her people had been there for thousands of years.

Her sister was in wide-legged black slacks that fit tight on her narrow ass, a complicated blouse she got either in Denver or New York City and a pair of high, spike-heeled, shiny black shoes that probably cost more than Faye’s entire outfit. Her makeup was somewhat heavy and her hair took her far more time than Faye’s to arrange. This was partly because Faye’s hair dried in the gleaming straight sheets so she didn’t have to do anything but shove a bobby pin in it somewhere if she felt the urge. It was mostly because Liza not only spent time on her hair but her entire appearance and it looked it.

Normally, Chace didn’t like to spend time with women like this mainly because he didn’t find them attractive and they usually proved to be the kind of women who thought he would, in a big way.

But when Liza made it to the top of the stairs, her eyes came to him and they were warm, there was an outgoing, friendly smile on her face and her appeal ratcheted up significantly.

It ratcheted up more when she stuck out a hand toward him, saying in a welcoming voice, “Chace, awesome to meet you. Been looking forward to it since I heard you were dating my baby sister.”

He shook her hand and replied, “Liza. Good to meet you too.”

She let him go and nabbed both her boys by the tops of their heads, tousling their hair, “These are my two crazy bugs, Jarot,” she tousled his hair again, “and Robbie,” another tousle for Robbie. “Boys, say hello to Detective Keaton then back downstairs with the both of you.”

Jarot raised a hand in a quick wave, and muttered, “’Lo, Dee-tetive Keaton.” Then he did as he was told and raced away.

Robbie stared at him and repeated, “Wanna see the gun.”

“Sorry, bud, didn’t bring my gun,” Chace replied on a lie since he did but it was in his truck.

Robbie kept at it. “Then wanna see the badge.”

Liza’s hand slid down to the back of his neck, she bent over him and ordered, “Badge later. Now, say hello then go downstairs, honey.”

He looked at his mother and narrowed his eyes, clearly peeved.

Then he looked back up at Chace and said a sulky, “’Lo,” before he also raced away.

Liza looked back at Chace, sharing, “I tell myself he’s in a stage but this is denial. He’s my baby and I spoil him. I should probably stop doing that but I can’t. So his future wife will have to sort him out and I’m just going to enjoy myself.”

Faye got close, leaned into him and up in order to whisper, “This is not a good plan.”

“As usual, I agree with my girl Faye,” a deep male voice came their way.

Chace looked to the stairs to see a shortish, stocky, prematurely graying, good-looking man walking up them wearing a welcoming smile and a mountain man uniform of jeans and a flannel shirt that clashed violently with his wife’s apparel. He also looked like a man who didn’t give a fuck. He was who he was and she was who she was and even though they didn’t go together, taking them in it was clear, in their way, they fit.

He had his hand up before he made it to Chace but only continued talking when Chace’s hand gripped his.

“Boyd Newman,” he introduced himself, still smiling.

“Chace Keaton,” Chace told him something he already knew not only because he was seeing the man’s sister-in-law and this was undoubtedly reported to him but because everyone in the county knew who he was.

“Good to meet you, man,” he gripped Chace’s hand tight but not combative, just friendly then they broke the hold.

“Uh… you want to let the man come down and get a beer or what?” Silas called from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll take your coats,” Liza muttered and Chace moved to Faye to help her with hers before giving it to a now beaming, didn’t miss the help with her sister’s coat, Liza.

Then he took off his own and gave it to her. She tucked both under her arm and moved to a door on the landing that was clearly the coat closet.

Faye grabbed his hand and walked him down the stairs at the bottom of which she let him go because she had no choice seeing as Silas engulfed her in a bear hug that included several hearty claps on the back and a couple of swings. He let her go and stuck out a hand to Chace.

Chace took it and got a, “Chace, beer, bourbon, vodka or what?”

“Silas. Beer,” Chace answered.

Silas let his hand go but lifted his, clapped him stoutly on the arm, moved away and Sondra was there.

“Chace, happy to have you here,” she beamed up at him, offering her hand. Chace took it and squeezed while wondering if, when Faye got older, her hair would turn that attractive silvery-white just around her face like her mother’s was. He also hoped it would.

No fancy clothes for Sondra Goodknight, as ever. Also no makeup.

Nice jeans. A turtleneck sweater that became her figure and it was a soft beige color that became her complexion. A chunky, low-hanging, necklace made of silver, turquoise and coral that looked vintage and was definitely Native American. Stocking feet.

Family dinner. Family time. Family. No high heels. Just wool socks and because her daughter’s boyfriend was there for the first time, she threw on a necklace.

Yeah, he liked Sondra Goodknight.

“Good to be here, Sondra,” he muttered.

She gave him a bright smile much like Liza’s, he let her hand go and Faye moved in for a kiss on the cheek and to hand her the flowers.

“These are from Chace, Mom” she told her mother, Sondra took the bouquet and her eyes went to the flowers then to him and they were even warmer.

“Pink. Perfect,” she said softly then finished, the gratitude gentle in her voice, conveying the feeling behind the words without overdoing it, “Thank you, Chace.”

He lifted his chin.

She grinned at him and announced, “I’ll put these in water and there are a few things to finish up in the kitchen. Go in and sit a spell.” She turned to her daughter, lifted a hand to touch Faye’s cheek lightly and then whispered softly, “Pretty as a picture.” She dropped her hand but tipped her head toward the family room and went on, “Take your man in to get comfortable, honey. Your Dad will bring in his beer.”

Faye grabbed his hand and led him to the right, directly toward a couch in the family room.

Chace followed, his mind consumed with Sondra’s soft voice saying, Pretty as a picture.

Light touch. Loving comment to her daughter delivered in a quiet way that was practiced but that made the compliment no less heartfelt. Instead, it amplified it. Stocking feet. Comfortable in her home. Wanting you to be too. She appreciated the flowers, made that known but didn’t go overboard in a way that would make Chace ill-at-ease.

As these thoughts swiftly moved through his head, Chace couldn’t help but think what it would be like when Faye eventually met his mother.

Valerie Keaton wouldn’t be wearing wool socks and a beautiful, Native American necklace. She’d be in a brand new outfit that would cost more than Faye earned in a month. She would praise Chace, no doubt, and act loving and sweet. She’d also be nervous, likely clumsy because of it, embarrassed because of that and, finally, overly apologetic. She’d also try too hard and therefore manage to smother Chace and Faye in her efforts to make Faye like her at the same time convince Faye that Chace could move mountains.

Except Misty for reasons he couldn’t avoid, Chace had never taken a woman to meet his mother not only because there wasn’t a woman he’d had that was important enough to meet her but also because his Ma would work herself up about it. Chace took great pains to avoid working his mother up even before his life went to shit for the ultimate pain he took to avoid just that. An unnecessary meeting with a woman not important enough for it wasn’t worth it.

Faye Goodknight would most definitely be meeting Valerie Keaton. Chace already knew this. But, until that moment, he hadn’t been dreading it.

Now he was.

He barely got his ass in the couch and his woman arranged in the curve of his arm before Robbie was standing in front of him.

This time, he smacked his hand on Chace’s knee and demanded, “Badge!”

Chace uncurled his arm from around Faye, leaned forward and pulled his badge out of back pocket. As he was doing this, Liza handed Faye a glass of wine and his beer.

But she also leaned in and whispered low but loud enough Chace could hear, “My baby sister finally got laid.”

He felt Faye stiffen at his side even as he felt his own gut get tight, sensing her embarrassment.

Robbie, missing this or more likely focused, snapped, “Badge!” again with another smack on Chace’s knee.

Liza went on, “Written all over you, babe. Awesome.”

Liza moved away, grinning to herself and making big eyes at Faye.

When he noted Faye was glaring at her sister with narrowed eyes, deciding to be annoyed, not embarrassed, Chace decided for her sake to ignore it and concentrate on her nephew.

So he flipped open his badge for Robbie who instantly tore it out of his hand.

Faye handed him his beer and muttered, “Too bad you didn’t bring your gun.”

Yep, annoyed.

And cute.

Chace grinned.

Robbie heard Faye and agreed with, “Yeah! Gun!”

“No, gun, Robbie. Shut your trap about it, kid, jeez,” Boyd ordered, coming in carrying a bottle of beer and taking a seat in one of the four armchairs scattered around the space. This gave Chace a clue why Faye, who lived alone, had more armchairs than anyone he knew.

Robbie whirled on his father and fired back, “Shut your trap.”

Boyd’s face changed to the Dad look no kid wanted to see and his voice was rumbling when he said one word.

“Robert.”

Robbie scrunched up his face then wisely stopped giving attitude, dropped his head and got lost in his study of Chace’s badge.

At this point, from nowhere, Jarot popped up in front of him.

“You ever shoot anyone?” he asked.

“No,” Chace answered.

Jarot looked crestfallen and Robbie’s head snapped up showing he thought his brother’s line of questioning was more interesting than Chace’s badge.

Jarot perked up again and asked, “You ever shoot at anyone?”

Since he had, albeit only with the intent to warn thus miss, Chace looked at Boyd who now had his wife sitting on the arm of his chair and he got the entire story with one glance.

Liza was sipping her wine and gazing at her son as if he just masterfully played an entire piece by Chopin on the piano and did it using nothing but the power of his mind.

Boyd had his eyes aimed at the ceiling.

No help there.

Faye, luckily, chimed in.

“Jarot, honey, maybe this conversation can happen when you’re twenty-five.”

Chace felt his lips tip up but Jarot just looked to his aunt, back to Chace and didn’t give up.

“You ever get shot?”

“No,” Chace answered.

“Shot at?” Jarot persevered.

Chace was silent because he had. This was the time he shot back as a warning, missed, scared the wired junkie out of his mind, as was his intent, and the junkie dropped his gun. This he was not going to tell Jarot or Faye.

Faye read his silence and her body got tight beside him so he lifted his arm and curled it around her again.

“Jarot,” she said softly when he had her tucked close.

Jarot again changed tactics. “Arrested anyone?”

“Yes,” Chace answered.

“Lots of them?” Jarot kept up his interrogation.

“My fair share,” Chace told him.

“Cool,” he whispered.

“Hey,” Robbie spoke up and Chace looked at him to see his head tipped to the side and his face screwed up. “Why you holdin’ Auntie Faye?”

“Because she’s my girlfriend,” Chace replied.

His upper lip scrunched up into his nose and he said with disgust, “Auntie Faye is your girlfriend?”

“Robert,” Boyd clipped and Robbie whirled on his father.

“She’s gross!” he shouted then immediately shared the reasons behind his opinion. “She gives sloppy kisses!”

“Only to you, honey,” Liza told him and her dancing eyes went to Faye before she went on, “Hopefully, she gives Detective Keaton other kinds of kisses.”

“All kisses are sloppy,” Robbie retorted with authority then finished, “and gross.”

“Trust your father on this, boy, they aren’t,” Boyd informed him with true authority that Robbie completely missed.

“They are,” Robbie disagreed. “I know ‘cause Molly keeps givin’ ‘em to me at recess and they’re gross.”

“Molly’s Robbie’s girlfriend,” Jarot shared then looked to his brother. “Molly and Robbie, sittin’ in a tree, k… i… s… s… i… n… g,” he sang, grinning an evil kid grin at his brother.

Chace was surprised that song endured but apparently it had.

Robbie leaned into his brother, face screwed up again but a different way this time, “Shut up, Jarot!”

“You shut up, Robbie,” Jarot shot back, leaning in.

“I’m having all girls,” Faye whispered and Chace swallowed down a chuckle but did it on an arm squeeze for Faye.

Then he called, “Yo,” and both boys looked at him. “Robbie, give me back my badge.” Robbie looked ready to decline this order until Chace removed his arm from around Faye again. After a quick head to toe of Chace whereupon he correctly ascertained Chace could take him, he then thought better of it and jerked Chace’s badge his way. Chace took it but didn’t flip it closed. Instead he showed it to them and asked, “This cool to you?”

Both boys nodded their agreement avidly, eyes aimed at his badge.

Chace flipped it closed and got their eyes aimed at his face.

“You’d be right. It is. Man has this, he doesn’t say girls are gross and he also doesn’t tell anyone to shut up. Even his brother. Even when his brother is teasin’ him. It’s cool because he’s cool. You don’t get one of these unless you can be cool. Now, can you two be cool?”

“I can be cool,” Jarot offered immediately and Chace reckoned he could but Robbie clearly had to think on this awhile.

“Robbie?” Chace prompted and Robbie looked at him.

Then Robbie proved he might be a cuss but he was an honest one.

“Maybe,” he answered.

“How about you be that way just for tonight?” Chace suggested. “No more callin’ your Aunt Faye gross.”

Robbie’s head tipped to the side again and he sought clarification, “Can I call her gross if she kisses me?”

“No,” Chace answered.

Robbie’s mouth moved around for a bit before he asked, “Can I fight with Jarot?”

“No,” Chace repeated.

Robbie’s mouth moved around some more as Chace buried his urge to laugh.

“Well, I’m bein’ cool,” Jarot put in at this point, back straight, voice haughty, looking down his nose at Robbie. “’Cause if I am, Dee-tetive Keaton’ll put a good word in for me when I become a cop. And the first person I’m arresting is,” he leaned toward his brother and finished, “you.”

“You aren’t arresting me!” Robbie shouted.

“I am!” Jarot shouted back.

“Jesus,” Boyd muttered.

“What’s with the shouting?” Silas shouted, walking into the room carrying his own beer. He stopped and looked down at his grandsons. “What? A man gets his shoutin’, fightin’ kids outta the house only to have his kids’ shoutin’, fightin’ kids come into it? Yeesh. Give an old man a break,” he said to the boys.

“But Jarot said he’s gonna arrest me,” Robbie defended himself.

“He probably will, you don’t clean up your act,” Silas returned. “A good time to start is now. Your grandmother’s settin’ the table. She could use some help.”

Faye made a move to get up at the same time Liza did but it was Faye who said quietly, “I’ll help, Dad.”

“You’ll sit your keister down, visit with your old man and the boys will help their grandma,” Silas returned then he looked down at Jarot and Robbie, his brows up, “Boys?”

Jarot shuffled out.

Robbie hesitated.

“Robert,” Boyd warned.

Robbie shot his Dad a rebellious look before he shuffled out too.

Chace returned his badge to his pocket and put his arm around Faye again.

Silas settled into another armchair.

“Just so you know, she might be quiet and she’s always been cute as a button but both of these hid the demon within,” Silas informed him, not leading into it even a little and Chace did his best not to stare. “There’s a temperament behind that hair, son. So, my advice, don’t catch it from Faye.”

“Totally,” Liza agreed.

“You guys,” Faye put in, shifting uncomfortably at his side.

“Don’t act all innocent,” Liza told her then looked at Chace, “She chased me around the house with scissors.”

“I did not!” Faye returned heatedly. “You did that to Jude.”

“You so chased me around with scissors. Jude chased you with the fire poker.”

He felt Faye turn to look up at him, he gave her his gaze and she confirmed, “This actually happened.”

“And she actually chased me with scissors,” Liza took their attention by repeating.

“Liza, I did not,” Faye retorted.

“You totally did,” Liza fired back.

Faye gave up and tried something new. “You were a hair puller.”

“So were you,” Liza returned.

“Of course I was, because you were. It called for retaliatory measures and that was my only choice,” Faye replied.

Liza gave up on Faye and looked to Chace. “She also mixed all my makeup together.”

Faye didn’t give up on Liza and leaned toward her. “That was because you told Danny I had a crush on him.”

Liza’s eyebrows shot up. “So?”

“I didn’t have a crush on Danny!” Faye shot back. “I had a crush on his brother Dillon! Danny thought I liked him so he kissed me in front of Dillon.” She flounced back in the couch, throwing out a hand, “And there went my shot at Dillon.”

“Like you’d take that shot,” Liza muttered the God’s honest truth.

“No, but if Dillon had, I would have taken that,” Faye returned on an out and out lie.

“Now I’m glad I got boys,” Boyd said to no one.

“Who’s Dillon?” Chace asked Faye and, for some reason, Liza found this hilarious and he knew this because she burst out laughing.

“Nobody,” Faye muttered, glaring across the room at her sister.

“Cutest boy in school,” Liza answered and Chace looked back to her. “Or was. Now he’s got a beer belly the size of Texas, is thirty-one years of age and is working on wife three, kid five and still thinks his stuff doesn’t stink because he was captain of the football team fourteen years ago.”

Jesus, Chace knew the guy.

“Dillon Baumgarner?” he asked.

“You know him?” Liza asked back.

He did, unfortunately. The guy was a dick who, Liza was right, had a huge gut and thought his shit didn’t stink. Regrettably, he was able, with a bewildering frequency, to convince women of this fact. He went through them like water, whether he was committed to one legally or not. This wasn’t the only reason he was a dick. He was just a dick.

Chace didn’t share this.

He just looked at Faye, fighting a grin and saying quietly, “Good you held out, honey.”

Liza burst out laughing again. Boyd chuckled. Silas smiled at the both of them.

At this point, Sondra walked two feet into the room and announced, “Soup’s on. Come and get it.”

Then she walked right back out.

Apparently, Sondra spoke, everyone listened because instantly they all made a move.

But as they started out of the room, Silas caught up with Chace, Chace’s arm around Faye, Faye returning the gesture and Silas shared, “The scissors, Faye’s right. Liza chased Jude with ‘em.”

“See?” Faye directed this at her sister’s back.

“Though,” Silas went on, “she got the idea from Faye.”

“Did not!” Faye snapped, her head twisting so she could aim her glare at her father.

“Sweetheart, you did it,” he returned then looked at Chace. “Got in trouble for it, sat in the corner for half an hour because of it and then wrote a report for her second grade teacher about it which caused the woman to call her Mom and me into school.”

They walked through the kitchen into the dining room at the other side of the house and Silas kept sharing.

“She didn’t know what to do with herself. Said the report was work well beyond any seven year old she knew. Also said she was alarmed that it was about parental cruelty. We convinced her our Faye had a vivid imagination. Since she’d noted this already, luckily she wasn’t hard to convince.”

“The scissor story,” Sondra muttered, obviously overhearing.

“Chace is getting the lowdown,” Boyd shared then looked at Chace. “Settle in, man. Happened to me ten years ago. Took ‘em around two dozen visits to burn the stories out. I didn’t know whether to think I got hold of a hot one or move to a different state.”

“Faye’s stories will be better because she’s got that shy and retiring gig going on,” Liza put in as she fussed over Robbie’s napkin in his lap while he shoved at her hands and glared at the side of her head. “No one would ever expect her temper matches her hair.”

“Learned that myself thirty-four years ago but my teacher was her mother,” Silas added, seating himself at the head. “Knew, my baby girl came out with that red fuzz on her head, I was in for trouble. And I was not wrong. Though, half the time she’s rantin’, it’s about fathers with chunks cut outta their brains or Darth Vader and I don’t know what the heck she’s on about.”

“Uh… does anyone mind if we stop acting like I’m fifteen and Chace is my high school boyfriend you’re all trying to scare to death and maybe remember to act our ages?” Faye suggested, glaring at her father at the same time motioning to a chair which Chace took as her telling him to plant his ass in it.

“No,” Liza denied immediately.

“Nope,” Silas took a second longer and did it while shaking his napkin out at his side and grinning at his daughter.

“I didn’t do this to you,” Faye retorted to Liza as she situated herself by the chair next to his therefore Chace moved to pull out.

She tossed a small, distracted grin at him before taking her seat.

“No, you didn’t. But you side with Boyd on all our arguments so this is payback for that,” Liza returned.

“How about this,” Sondra, seated at the foot of the table, started, “I just spent an hour cooking, an hour before that baking a cake and half a day cleaning my house. I’d like to enjoy the meal and my family. I wasn’t all fired up about this banter when you two were teenagers. Now, I like it less. So how about we eat and act like adults. Does that work for anyone but me?”

“It works for me,” Faye stated instantly.

“It would,” Liza muttered.

“Liza,” Sondra said in a tone much like Boyd had used with his boys except feminine. Clearly it was just as impossible to be denied because Liza’s face immediately assumed a thirty-two year old woman’s pout that made her look nearly as cute as her sister, just more sophisticated, and Chace finally got an idea of why Boyd liked it in there.

This was more evidence that Sondra spoke, people listened. The banter ended.

Chace missed it.

It wasn’t ugly or hurtful. It was reminiscing, nostalgic, teasing and although heated, there was a different kind of warmth under that heat. It was a warmth that Chace had never felt before. An affectionate kind that said these were shared memories and, regardless of their alarming nature, there was no love lost. They’d just morphed into amusing anecdotes that provided opportunities for teasing but fond banter that would leave no one with hard feelings.

It wasn’t the first home of his girlfriends’ parents that he’d visited. It wasn’t his first such dinner.

But it was the most interesting one and he’d never felt as comfortable.

Food was passed around and Chace took in the flowers he bought that Sondra had put in the middle, a silent but thoughtful indication of her gratitude. Liza looked after Robbie who was at her side. Faye kept an eye on Jarot who was at hers. Sondra kept an eye on both her grandsons as they flanked her.

Surprisingly, even Robbie minded his manners at the table. Clearly, it was a free for all the rest of the time but when he was at his meal, he was to be quiet and behaved and he was.

The food was delicious and it was also familiar since Sondra obviously taught her daughter how to cook.

This made him feel comfortable too.

The conversation was light, easy and flowed naturally. Chace was pulled in from the start, Silas and Boyd talking sports and in an experienced way, Sondra, Liza and Faye remained silent but not removed while they did it.

Chace participated in a discussion about the Avalanche with the men while listening to Faye remind her mother that spring was nearly on the Rockies and asking her if she’d help again that year with flowers at the library.

So that answered that. Faye planted those flowers with her mother.

There was something about that, knowing daughter and mother worked side by side to create beauty for a building that didn’t belong to them, but instead the town that also made him feel strangely comfortable.

Conversation naturally turned and again this turn was affectionately heated as it became political and the politics at the table quickly outed themselves, those being strictly segregated by gender. Men, staunchly conservative. Women, resolutely liberal.

Through this, Chace remained neutral by keeping his mouth shut until Boyd threw up his hands, looked right at him and begged, “Man, help us out here. Even out the friggin’ numbers.”

“Boyd, don’t say frig!” Liza snapped.

“Why?” Boyd clipped back.

“The boys!” she hissed.

Boyd looked to Jarot.

“Jarot, buddy, what does frig mean?” he asked.

“Boyd!” Liza kept hissing.

“Uh…” Jarot looked mystified then, game and clearly unaffected by his parents’ heated words, he tried, “Frig means, um… frig?” he asked in answer.

“See?” Boyd bit off to Liza.

Liza glared at him and then looked at Jarot. “You’re right, honey. Frig just means frig. Now, please don’t say that at school or, well… ever.”

“For goodness sakes, it’s just frig,” Silas entered the conversation at this point.

“Dad!” Now Liza was snapping at her father.

“Oh my God, Dad,” Faye whispered, also to her father.

“He’s a boy,” Silas shrugged. “Boys, you gotta give on some things.”

“Here we go,” Faye muttered to her plate and Chace looked at her to see her chin tucked in her neck and her eyes focused with keen attention on her food.

“Um… I’m sorry?”

This came from Sondra and he’d been at this table once, the dinner wasn’t entirely consumed, the birthday cake to come was deep into the horizon, therefore he didn’t know Sondra but for less than an hour and still, Chace read her tone was dangerous.

“Now –” Silas started but Sondra cut him off.

“Don’t even go there.”

“Sondra –” Silas tried again.

“No,” Sondra interrupted again. “There are not different rules for girls and boys, Silas. You tried that with Jude and I didn’t like it then. You can’t try it again with Jarot and Robbie.”

“No offense, Sondra, but, personally, I don’t give a frig if my kid says frig and he’s my kid,” Boyd interjected.

“Well, personally, I do,” Liza retorted. “And he’s my kid too.”

“You girls don’t like it, never did,” Silas started as if it was all the same to him. “But no matter, things are just different between boys and girls, men and women. That’s the way it is, that’s the way it’ll always be.”

“Oh frak,” Faye muttered to her plate again.

“It is not!” Liza said in a near shout.

“Love you, Liza darlin’, but it is,” Silas replied.

Liza’s eyes sliced to her sister. “Please, God, tell me this one,” she jerked her head at Chace, “is enlightened since these two,” she jerked her head at Boyd and Silas’s end of the table, “are not.”

“Well, uh… Chace is a little old-fashioned,” unfortunately Faye shared. “He won’t let me pay for anything and he never lets me pour my own drink.”

“Good man,” Silas muttered on a nod to Chace.

“Right on,” Boyd muttered, grinning at Chace.

“Gentlemanly behavior will never be old-fashioned,” Sondra chimed in, her eyes on Chace. “I’m pleased to know you’re a gentleman, Chace. But, no pressure, if things should progress and your children someday sit at this table, I hope you will not be okay with them saying frig.”

Chace didn’t get a chance to reply which was good since he didn’t intend to do so. This was primarily because, if he and Faye had boys, he didn’t care if they said frig but if they had girls, no way in hell. He knew by the conversation half the inhabitants of that table of legal drinking age would not take to that very well.

But he didn’t get the chance to reply because Sondra’s eyes cut to Faye and she concluded, “Or frak.”

“I like frak!” Robbie shared at this point then unfortunately for his aunt, went on, “It’s fraking great!”

“Frak,” Faye whispered and Chace put some effort into not doing what he had an overwhelming desire to do, burst out laughing not only at Faye’s whisper and Robbie’s comment but also at Liza and Sondra turning infuriated eyes her way.

Boyd was feeling what Chace was feeling and Chace knew this because he didn’t bite back his laugher. He just roared with it.

Silas grinned at his grandson.

Liza and Sondra opened their mouths to say something but it was then that Chace’s phone rang and every eye at the table came to him.

“On call, need to take this,” he muttered, pulling it out of his back pocket. “My apologies. I’ll take it in the other room.”

He saw a couple of understanding nods before he got out of his chair and looked at the display on his phone. He hid his confusion at what he read as he hit the button to take the call.

Then he walked with swift, long strides around the table toward the kitchen and put the phone to his ear, saying, “Keaton.”

“Man, shit, fuck, man,” Deck said in his ear and Chace’s gut clenched as he walked faster to get to the living room.

“What?” he demanded low.

Hesitation then, “Fuck, man.”

“Deck,” he clipped quietly and stopped in the living room. “Give it to me. What?”

“Found your kid,” Deck said, his tone was not good and Chace’s clenched gut twisted.

“Talk,” he ordered.

“Talked to the old guy in the alley.”

“Outlaw Al?” Chace asked.

“Yup, if that’s the old guy in the alley lives behind the coffee place. Talked to him before. Man was three sheets. Talked to him tonight, he was only two and made some sense. Sees the kid around. Followed him once. Told me where to go. There’s a reason why I couldn’t catch wind of him, so off the beaten track, there is no track. Found him in a shed, east side of town, up in the hills a fair ways. Shed’s gotta be about two hundred years old by the look of it. Long forgotten. Definitely not in repair. It provides some protection against weather but that’s it. Got a roof on it, holes in it, snow inside, but it’s somethin’.”

“Cut to it, Deck,” Chace growled.

“There’s also a reason he didn’t come to you and your woman,” Deck said quietly.

“Say it.”

“Kid’s fucked up, brother. Face fucked up, arm fucked up, look of it, broken and his leg looks like it was caught in a trap. Saw the blood trail in the snow. Drug himself back home to this shed from wherever he got nailed. Had to pry himself loose with his hands, means they’re fucked up too, still got his gloves on, mangled, brother, and a dried, bloody mess. But, a week of him in that shed alone, injured with no medicine…” He pulled in an audible breath. “Got a pulse on him, weak but it was there. Called an ambulance. He was lucky he had that sleeping bag or he’d be gone, hypothermia on top of trauma and maybe shock. Other than that, he was fucked. Dragged shit close to him to eat, get water but I suspect he gave up on that days ago. Not eatin’, not drinkin’, leg, arm, hands and face fucked up, he was unconscious, Chace. Couldn’t wake him so maybe even comatose. They’re takin’ him to the hospital now. I’m in my truck, followin’ them. County.”

“Faye and me’ll be there in twenty,” Chace told him immediately.

“Right,” Deck replied.

“Do me another favor. Call the Station. Get someone up to that shed. Follow that blood trail. I wanna know where he was comin’ from, he got caught in that trap. I want them to follow his footprints in the show. We haven’t had snow since last week. They’ll show where he went and where he came from. Leads to anything of interest, they don’t approach. They tell me. Once I get Faye in my truck, I’ll call myself to confirm your communication. But I want them on the move now.”

“Right,” Deck repeated.

Chace started moving back to the dining room while he muttered, “Thanks, Deck.”

“No thanks, brother. Shoulda gone back to the homeless guy days ago.”

Chace stopped in the kitchen and said firmly, “You didn’t. But you found him. Now, he’s getting help.”

Deck was silent a moment then, “Yeah.”

“See you in twenty,” Chace stated.

“Later, brother,” Deck murmured.

“Later,” Chace replied then disconnected.

He sucked in breath.

Then he moved to the wide opening that led to the dining room and all eyes came to him.

He only had eyes for Faye.

“Faye, baby, I need to talk to you a second,” he called gently.

She only had eyes for him too and hers were wide and scared.

He watched her face pale and her lips form the silent word, “Malachi.”

But it was Silas who spoke out loud.

“Everything okay, son?”

Chace tore his gaze from Faye and looked to her father.

“No.”

At his word, Faye shoved back her chair and rushed around the table.

When she got close, he caught her hand and moved with her to the family room. He heard murmurings from the other room but he was focused.

When they stopped in the family room, Silas, Boyd and Sondra were with them.

He ignored that and moved into Faye. Lifting a hand to slide the hair off her shoulder, he then curled it around her neck and dipped his face close.

“Deck found Malachi. He’s been injured. It’s not good. They’re takin’ him to County now so we need to go, baby.”

“I’ll get our coats,” she replied immediately, broke from him and ran to the stairs.

“I’ll come with,” Silas announced.

Chace looked to the man. “It’s not –”

“I’ll come with,” Silas reiterated, holding Chace’s eyes a second then he turned to his wife.

Before he could speak, she gave him what he, their daughters and their grandson needed.

“Jarot will get his cake then I’ll be there,” she whispered.

Silas nodded then followed his daughter.

“You need anything, man?” Boyd asked and Chace shook his head.

“We’ll call, we do,” he muttered.

Boyd nodded.

Liza showed at the opening to the room. “Is everything okay?”

Boyd moved to her, murmuring, “Later, babe, let’s get back to our boys.”

Chace watched Liza look searchingly at her husband but she made not a peep as she followed him out of the family room through the kitchen toward the dining room. Boyd slid his arm around his wife’s shoulders, Liza reciprocating with one around his waist.

Sondra moved to Chace, lifted a hand, curled it around his bicep and squeezed while peering into his eyes, her ear dipped to her shoulder, her eyes warm and worried.

Faye ran into the room both carrying his coat and yanking her hair out of the collar of hers.

She came to a rocking halt, offered his coat to him and whispered, “Let’s go, honey.”

He nodded, took his coat, turned to Sondra and said quietly, “Dinner was great, sorry to cut it short.”

She gave his bicep another squeeze before she let him go and whispered, “Drive safe. Call us if there’s news. I’ll see you in a while.”

He nodded again, shrugged on his coat while Faye gave her mother a hug. Then he took her hand, guided her to the stairs and held her hand tight when it seemed she was trying to fight against sprinting to the car.

They got in, got on the road and Silas’s Wrangler headlights were in his rearview mirror when he took her hand, linked their fingers and pressed them to his thigh.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered.

“Okay, Chace.”

“He’ll be all right.”

“Okay, honey.”

His fingers gave hers a squeeze.

Hers squeezed back.

Then he let her go and reached for his phone.

After he called the Station and confirmed his orders, Chace broke the speed limit on the way to the hospital.