“I will see that doesn’t happen,” Lescheva said quietly.
“My kids,” Mitch prompted.
Lescheva’s brows went up. “You claim them?”
“They’re mine,” Mitch stated.
Lescheva studied him.
Then he whispered, “This, I did not know.”
He’d been watching but he didn’t understand what he saw. Mitch got this. Lescheva thought Mitch’s moves were about Mara and they were. But it wasn’t only about her.
It was the closest he’d get to an apology.
And it didn’t mean smack because he also went after Mara even knowing she was Mitch’s.
Mitch didn’t reply.
Lescheva lifted his chin.
Assent.
“The call,” Mitch pushed.
“I’ll find these children for you,” Lescheva stated gregariously.
“You do that, as in, now,” Delgado entered the conversation and Lescheva looked to him then he looked to Tack.
Then he muttered, “Strange bedfellows,” and he did this while reaching into his inside suit coat pocket.
The room went wired and two guns moved to him.
Lescheva smiled calmly and his hand came out with his phone.
* * * * *
“Clear!”
“Clear!”
“Clear!”
Mitch heard the men’s calls as he moved through the house, his gun up, his flashlight up under it.
He moved up the stairs, Slim at his back. At the top landing, two ways to go. He turned, flicking two fingers right to Slim. Slim jerked up his chin, took the last two stairs and moved right.
Mitch moved left.
“Clear!” he heard from downstairs.
The right play was Lescheva ordered his men to move out, leaving the kids.
Leaving the kids.
Mitch hoped to Christ they’d moved out and left the kids.
Standing beside the first closed door on the upstairs landing, he threw it open then moved into the doorway, gun up, flashlight up.
In the corner there was a twin bed.
In the corner of the bed, back to the wall, there was Bud.
Asleep with her head on his thigh was Billie.
“Got them!” Mitch called. His eyes scanned the otherwise empty room, he dropped his gun and moved swiftly to the bed. “Here now, Bud. Safe. Yeah?”
Mitch kept his light low but shining on the children. Both kids were healthy, clean, in their pajamas. Bud had pulled a blanket over Billie. No blood, no visible injuries.
Thank Christ.
Thank Christ.
Mitch holstered his gun and arrived at the bed realizing Bud hadn’t spoken and Mitch’s eyes stopped scanning for injuries and focused on the boy.
“You came,” Bud whispered.
“Of course, buddy,” Mitch whispered back.
“You came,” Bud repeated so soft Mitch almost didn’t hear him.
Then Mitch watched the tear fall from his eye and slide down his cheek.
A burn hit his chest and Mitch found it hard to breathe.
He locked it down.
No blood. No visible injuries. They were safe.
Safe.
Now it was time to go home.
“Let’s get you home,” Mitch whispered, reached out and carefully lifted a dead to the world Billie to cradle her in his arms as he felt Slim enter the room behind him.
He straightened and Bud scrambled off the bed.
“Hey, Bud, you good?” Slim asked.
Mitch looked down at him and watched him nod.
“Wanna take my hand?” Slim asked, extending his own.
Bud looked at it.
Then he lifted his hand closest to Mitch and Mitch felt his fingers curl into the belt on his jeans.
“I’m good,” Bud whispered to Slim.
“Right,” Slim replied quietly, reached out his extended hand and tousled Bud’s hair.
“Let’s go get Mara,” Mitch muttered and moved out of the room, Billie in his arms held close to his chest, Bud moving close to his side, his hand still latched onto Mitch’s belt.
* * * * *
Mitch’s cell phone rang.
It didn’t wake him. He had not been sleeping, not even to doze.
He opened his eyes.
Upon opening his eyes, over the shining, dark hair of Billie’s head, he saw Mara’s head on her pillow, her eyes open and alert on him.
She hadn’t slept either.
He already knew that.
He rolled away from Billie who was sleeping cradled between them and on his roll he saw Bud pop up on the other side of Mara.
She’d made them sleep all together in her bed. When they arrived at the Chaos compound, he saw she’d been holding it together. She continued to hold it together as she checked over the kids and Mitch. She lost it when they got home and demanded they all sleep together.
Billie was still out and Bud and Mitch both saw the wisdom of giving into her demand. She needed that, they gave it to her.
It was good she had a king-size bed.
Mitch twisted, grabbed his phone from the nightstand, looked at his display, flipped it open and put it to his ear.
He then threw back the covers and said, “Yeah,” into the phone as he turned back, shaking his head at Mara and Bud.
Then he walked out of the room as Eddie Chavez spoke into his ear.
“Someone wants a word. Thinkin’ you’ll wanna give it to him.”
Mitch closed the door behind him and walked into Mara’s living room. Weak light was coming from around her blinds. It was just after dawn.
“Right,” he said into the phone.
“Hang on,” Chavez muttered.
Mitch went to the back of Mara’s new couch. Then he leaned into it, his eyes to the hall.
And there she was in another one of her sweet nighties. She followed him.
“Lawson?” he heard in his ear.
Bill.
“Yeah,” he answered as he watched Mara move to him.
Fuck, that nightie was sweet.
But the look on her face was not.
He felt the burn in his chest as he stretched his toward her and he battled to lock it down.
They were home. Safe. No injuries.
Safe.
Home.
She moved directly into his space and he curled his arm around her, bringing her even closer.
She settled her weight into him.
Bill spoke.
“Detective Chavez says they’re good.”
“They are,” Mitch confirmed.
No reply.
Mitch was tired and he had his woman and children to think about. Today was most definitely a fucking donut day. He needed to make a donut run. He didn’t need to waste time on an assclown.
“We done?” he prompted.
“Tell her to send me the papers.”
Mitch’s body tightened and he felt Mara’s tighten against his as her hand settled on his tee-covered chest.
“What?”
“Mara,” Bill stated. “Tell her to send me the papers to give her permanent custody of the kids. I’ll sign ‘em.”
“You’ll relinquish all claim?” Mitch asked then heard and felt Mara’s indrawn breath.
There was a pause then a quiet, “Yeah.”
“Now and forever, Winchell,” Mitch declared.
Another pause then quieter, “Yeah.”
“Say it,” Mitch ordered.
Another pause then a whispered, “Now and forever, Lawson.”
“Right,” Mitch clipped. “Now we’re done.”
“Lawson?” Bill called quickly.
“What?”
Another pause then, “Give ‘em a good life.”
“Already am,” Mitch replied.
“Mara too.”
Mitch made no reply and closed his eyes.
“Promise me that, for them, for Mara, give them a good life.”
Mitch opened his eyes
and looked down at his woman, felt her soft body against his, her hand light on his chest, trust, love and hope shining in her eyes.
Jesus, she was beautiful. Never, not in his life, had he seen anything as beautiful as she was right then.
“I promise,” he replied.
“Thanks, dude,” Bill whispered.
Mitch flipped his phone closed.
“Bill?” Mara asked instantly.
“He wants us to send the papers.”
She closed her eyes and did a face plant in his tee as her arms wound around his middle.
Mitch tossed his phone on the couch and curled his arms around her.
He again felt her pull in a soft breath.
Then she moved her head so her cheek was against his chest.
“We need to go see Penny and Evan,” she said quietly.
“She’s fine, Evan’s fine. Told you that already, baby. They’re good. They’re more worried about you and the kids than you are about them.”
“We need to go see them,” Mara semi-repeated.
“All right, sweetheart, after donuts,” Mitch relented.
She fell silent.
Then she asked softly, “Is it over?”
“It’s over.”
“You’re sure?”
“It’s over, honey.”
Mara fell silent again.
She was mulling it over. He knew she’d do that and then trust him.
And he loved that about her.
Then she turned her head so her forehead was pressed to his chest, her arms went tight around him and she whispered, “I love you, Detective Mitchell James Lawson.”
There it was. She’d mulled it over and trusted him.
Mitch dropped his head and, lips to her fucking fantastic-smelling hair, he whispered, “I love you too, Marabelle Jolene Hanover.”
Mara held onto Mitch and Mitch held onto Mara.
Then there was a flurry of rapid movement, Mitch tensed and looked up to see Billie flying toward them, arms in the air, hands waving. Bud was standing, leaning against the wall at the mouth of the hall.
Billie’s little body collided with both of theirs and she threw her arms around their hips, tipping her head way back, she screeched, “Donuts!”
Someone had been eavesdropping.
Mitch looked at Bud.
Bud was smiling a crooked smile.
Mitch grinned at his boy.
Then he looked down at his girl.
“Donuts,” he confirmed.
Billie jumped up and down, shaking Mitch with Mara as she did then she disengaged and ran back from where she came, hands again waving in the air, mouth again screeching, “Donuts!”
“Teflon.” He heard Mara murmur and felt her body shaking against his.
Mitch moved his eyes from a still crookedly smiling Bud to look down at Mara who now had her head tipped back and she was smiling too.
He’d lied to her the first time her ass was in his truck.
Her smile was totally wonky.
Just like Billie’s.
And just like Billie’s, it lit up the room.
Beautiful.
So beautiful he had no choice.
He bent his head, put his mouth to hers and kissed it from her lips.
* * * * *
Two days later…
When Mitch walked into Pierson’s Mattress and Bed, he saw Mara, Roberta and two other sales associates with customers and there were a number more customers milling about the store.
Roberta’s customer was a woman.
Mara’s was a man.
Mitch sighed, gave his woman a chin lift, took her return smile and gave her friend a low wave. Then his eyes went to the window at the back of the store.
Bob was standing at the window looking out at him.
Mitch wound his way through the displays and by the time he hit the door to the back hall, Bob was standing in it.
“You got a minute?” Mitch asked quietly.
Bob nodded and threw an arm out behind him indicating Mitch should precede him.
Mitch did so and Bob followed.
Bob had given Mara the day off after the drama but she’d gone in the next two days although Bob told her she didn’t have to.
She explained this by saying, “Honey, I have four mouths to feed. It’s paid time off but my pay is nothing to my commissions.”
“Four?” Mitch had asked.
“Bud, Billie, you and me,” she stated.
“You got help with that,” he reminded her.
“I know.” She smiled then reminded him, “We’re a team and I can’t let down the side. Anyway, commissions and a future without attorney’s fees means more little black dresses.”
At that, he let it go.
She didn’t need the commissions. She needed normalcy.
Mitch gave it to her.
Further, he was looking forward to a future that included a selection of little black dresses.
And the truth of the matter was, Bob needed Mara. It was still the summer madness sale not to mention news coverage about what happened at Pierson’s had been extensive. Though, luckily, considering the operation to find Bud and Billie had been unofficial, the media had not stumbled onto that information and Mara and the kids did not factor into the story.
Although Bob’s warehouse was blocked by yellow police tape, the police were still sifting through it and his stock would likely not be released for a while, this did not keep the customers away. In fact, Mara told Mitch it was a madhouse and the customers were happy to wait for the release of stock in order to have their mattress from the now infamous Pierson’s Mattress and Bed.
Considering his business, Mitch never understood the allure of crime to the average citizen but he couldn’t deny it was there. And this was further proof.
He and Bob made it into Bob’s office and Bob closed the door behind them. Mitch stood, waiting for Bob to call the scene. He’d sit opposite Bob at his desk if Bob needed to play it that way. He’d stand if Bob needed to keep his feet.
Bob needed to keep his feet.
Mitch faced him and crossed his arms on his chest.
Then he said gently, “I don’t have good news.”
Bob Pierson had done nothing but give a shot to a member of his family who didn’t deserve it and couldn’t find one elsewhere. For this kindness, he’d been informed that, stitched expertly in his mattresses and stashed in hiding places throughout the warehouse, the police had found a variety of narcotics, small stolen goods and forged passports. He also had to contact all buyers of the Spring Deluxe to recall their mattresses and replace them with new stock Bob had to purchase at a loss.
He’d taken a hit to his business and reputation that, due to his personality, he’d recover from.
But it still had hit him hard and it was visible in the deeper lines of his face, the light that was no longer in his eyes and the way he held his frame. This was not just being betrayed by a man who he’d shown kindness but the fact that his cousin’s proclivities had affected a woman he knew well and cared about deeply in addition to the two children she claimed as her own.
That was the kind of man Bob Pierson was. He didn’t blame Mara for Bill’s part in it. He blamed himself for Otis’s.
“Otis?” Bob asked quietly.
Mitch nodded. “I’m sorry, Bob. I wanted to tell you in person. Two hours ago, we found his body.”
Bob pulled in an audible breath through his nose. Then he nodded.
Mitch went on.
“Lescheva was careful. There’s nothing tying him to what was found in your warehouse. The only trail we have leads to Otis and Bill. They not only stashed it, they distributed it to dealers and Bill himself sold. Bill has confessed and he isn’t pointing a finger at Lescheva or any of his crew. According to him, the entire operation was him and Otis. This is frustrating for us but a smart move for Bill. A confession will lighten his sentence. His taking the fall without naming names means he won’t breathe free for a whil
e but at least he’ll keep breathing.”
“I suppose this is understandable,” Bob muttered and Mitch couldn’t read him. It could be the Russian mob didn’t concern him and he was looking forward and planning recovery where his life would be free of these ties, even if he wasn’t the one who made them in the first place. It could be he wanted retribution but knew he was powerless to get it.
Mitch didn’t press. Bob didn’t wish to share, his call.
Mitch was quiet a moment then he said softly, “I’m sorry, Bob.”
Bob held his eyes and replied softly, “I should have known. He was always a troublemaker.”
Mitch shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t take on that guilt. You did right by your family. He did wrong. It’s that simple. Keep it that simple. You with me?”
Bob continued to hold his eyes. Then he nodded.
Mitch decided to move on and allow Bob to do the same.
“I’ll talk to Mara. She’ll make her barbeque chicken pizza. You and your wife can come over. Yeah?”
Bob smiled. It was small but genuine.
“I’ve heard about Mara’s pizza.”
“It’s the shit,” Mitch informed him and Bob’s smile got bigger.
Then it faded.
“She never had one and I think of my staff as family so, I hope you don’t find this strange, but I feel like a father figure to her. And feeling that, I want you to take this as it’s meant. I’m pleased when she finally chose, she chose well, Mitch. I approve.”
That was when Mitch smiled.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
“No,” Bob muttered back, “thank you.”
Mitch gave him a chin lift. Bob returned it then led him out.
On the showroom floor, they shook hands. Then Mitch’s eyes located his woman and his body moved her way.
She was still with her male customer.
The man’s gaze came to Mitch as did Mara’s.
“Sorry to interrupt, this’ll just take a second then I gotta go,” Mitch told the man then he wrapped his arm around Mara, hauled her stiff with surprise body against his and kissed her, short, hard but very wet.
When he lifted his head, her body was no longer stiff and she was blinking.
“See you when you get home tonight, baby,” he whispered, looked to the now visibly disappointed man, jerked up his chin, looked back at his woman, gave her a grin and let her go.
His work was done.
He walked out seeing Roberta’s huge, bright smile.
He had Roberta’s approval too.