Serve ‘N’ Protect by Tee O’Fallon

Chapter Thirty-Five

The Irish stew and macaroni and cheese Cassidy’s mom had prepared looked and smelled amazing, but all Cassidy could do was push it around the plate with her fork. Even her mom’s Irish soda bread held no appeal.

“Honey, you have to eat something,” her mother said, eyeing her with more than her typical motherly concern.

“Dinner is fabulous,” Kaitlyn declared, shoveling a forkful into her mouth then sighing as she chewed and swallowed. “There’s nothing like mac ’n’ cheese. Whoever said carbs were the devil should have their head examined.”

Normally, that was true. Macaroni and cheese was second only to cookies on her list of favorite foods. Today, nothing tasted good.

Two days had passed since John Smith attacked her, and there’d still been no word from the state police. The day before, she’d gone with her father to the barracks to sign a statement but until Walt Teedle was arrested, her parents all but forced her to stay with them. Out of sisterly concern, Kaitlyn was staying there, too. In a show of continued support, the rest of the Morgan clan had descended for an early dinner. Sean and his fiancée, Cherisse. Brianna and her kids. Jimmy’s wife, Olivia, and their kids. The only family member who wasn’t there was Jimmy, and that was only because someone had to close up the hardware store.

The sun had long since set, blanketing the backyard in darkness and echoing her mood. Would she ever feel safe again in her own house? It had been broken into, twice, and she’d been attacked, twice. And she was alone. Again. Somehow—she didn’t know how—she’d pick up the pieces of her pathetic little world and start over.

“Your window’s all boarded up, Cass,” Sean said as he poured more wine into his glass. “Markus stuck around to help. For some reason, John had tons of plywood in his garage.”

Cassidy had just taken a sip of wine and nearly snorted it through her nose. Her family didn’t know that between hers and John’s house, windows had been broken three times in the last month.

“Thanks.” She gave her brother a smile, but inside she was anything but smiling. Facing death did that to a girl.

John Smith was a professional, and professionals didn’t leave loose ends. Whether she’d told him where her laptop was or not, he would have killed her in the end. The only reason she was sitting here with a plate of her mom’s mac ’n’ cheese in front of her was because Markus and Ghost had been there.

God, but she needed to stop thinking about him.

“Is Markus coming for dinner?” Sean asked.

“No!” Kaitlyn elbowed her brother. “Where’ve you been? They broke up a week ago. He went back to his boring life in D.C., guarding the President and all that.”

“Oh.” He grimaced, hissing in a breath between his teeth. “Sorry, Cass. Didn’t know. I just figured since he was around last night…”

“Forget it.” It wasn’t meant to be, and she had to accept that. “He probably only came back to get something he left at John’s house.”

Brianna cocked her head. “Then why did he stop here first?”

“What do you mean?” Cassidy put down her glass, looking from Brianna to her mother.

“Yesterday, Mom said that Markus had been here.”

Cassidy looked at her mother. “Mom?” If Markus had been here, surely someone would have told her.

“Well, yes.” Her mother exchanged looks with her dad, who remained silent at the head of the table, looking completely nonplussed. “Your father told him you were staying with us, and he came here to see you. He was here when you sent that odd text about staying with friends for a couple of days. He was immediately suspicious and asked to see your bedroom.”

“You took him into my bedroom?” Oh God. She’d always meant to take Justin off the wall but had never gotten around to it.

“Must be the cop in him,” Cherisse offered.

“That’s how he knew something was wrong,” her mother added. “You’d left all your clothes and your toiletries behind. He took one look at your suitcase then charged over to your house to check on you.”

Kaitlyn sighed and held a hand to her chest. “That is so romantic.”

“There’s nothing romantic about it,” Cassidy corrected. Although she wished there had been. “He’s a cop. Protecting people is what he does for a living. It’s ingrained in him. To serve and protect.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” her mother asked softly. “You told me he’s a man who keeps a lot of things bottled up inside, and that he would never be able to tell you how he feels. But people can show their feelings and emotions in other ways. Has he ever done something really nice for you?”

“Right,” Cherisse said. “Like, has he ever unexpectedly left you a nice note or sent you a gift? Not for your birthday, but out of the blue. Just because he wanted to.”

Um, yeah. She nodded. Markus had sent her flowers for that exact reason. Just because he wanted to, he’d said.

“Anything else?” Brianna asked.

“He fixed my broken window,” she mumbled.

“Hey, I helped with that, too,” Sean piped in as he reached for more mac ’n’ cheese.

“No, not that time. The first time,” she said, more to herself than to Sean.

“The first time?” her dad asked.

“The night of the burglary,” Cassidy explained. “Markus had to break in through the window. He arranged for a company to repair it right away. Then he installed the security system for me.” And didn’t ask for a dime.

“Did he ever buy you any jewelry?” Cherisse bobbed her dark brows. “Sean knows diamonds are the way to my heart. That and his foot rubs.”

“No. But he did buy me a new laptop when mine was stolen during the burglary.” Better than any diamonds, in her opinion.

Tears began backing up behind her eyes, and she had to blink rapidly or lose it right there in front of her entire family. “And he…” She broke off, losing the battle as big drops spilled onto the tablecloth. “He came here with me for Christmas even though he didn’t want to. He’s—he’s not used to big family gatherings, and…” He’d come anyway.

She rested her elbows on the table and lowered her head into her hands, wondering if she’d been a fool. Was this a classic case of actions speaking louder than words? She’d sent Markus away because he hadn’t been able to voice the words I love you. But maybe he had, in his own stoic, reticent way. Maybe her love really had gotten through to him, after all. Even if he didn’t know it.

Kaitlyn leaned over, giving Cassidy a big sisterly hug. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Thanks.” She hugged her sister back, knowing deep down inside that it would never be okay. Not today, tomorrow, or the next day or the next. She couldn’t imagine her world without Markus in it. His leaving had left her life empty, her heart and soul withered beyond recognition. The last time that had happened—

Was when Hugh had left her high and dry. But that wasn’t true.

Sure, when Hugh dumped her, she’d been wrecked. Sure, she’d cried her eyes out. But somehow she’d always known she’d carry on. Her world hadn’t been shattered. Losing Markus was entirely different. Hugh hadn’t reached into her body and torn out her very heart and soul. Markus had.

Automatically, she picked up her fork, about to eat a bite of mac ’n’ cheese, but she stopped when her stomach rolled unpleasantly. No sooner had she set down the fork than something else her mother had said stuck in her brain. “Dad? When did you talk to Markus?”

Just as importantly, why had Markus and her dad started chatting secretly in the first place?

Her dad cleared his throat, not meeting her gaze, which told her something conspiratorial was afoot. “I might have called to tell him about the attempt on your life at the grocery store.”

“Why did you do that?” Since the moment she and her sisters had been old enough to date, Cassidy couldn’t recall her father ever calling any of their boyfriends. Not even Hugh, whom she was engaged to.

Her dad winked. Actually winked, another thing he never did. “I think I’ll let him tell you why himself.”

Her brand-new phone, which she’d left on the hall table inside her purse, rang.

“I also think you should get that,” he added, returning to his stew, as if leaving her completely in the dark about something so odd was no big deal.

Getting more suspicious by the second, she pushed from the table then went into the hall to get her phone. When she looked at the screen, her heart sank. She’d stupidly been hoping it was Markus. It was the Maryland State Police.

“Hello?” she answered. This was either going to be very good news, or very bad news.

“Miss Morgan, it’s Detective Chang. I thought you’d want to know we arrested Walt Teedle. He and John Smith, whose real name, by the way, is MacKenzie Dyer, will be formally charged later today with conspiracy to commit murder.”

She swallowed, gripping the phone tighter. Conspiracy to commit murder. Hers. The magnitude of what was happening was suddenly too much and she sank into the hall chair.

“Miss Morgan, are you there?” Detective Chang asked.

She cleared her throat. “Um, yes. I’m here.”

“Teedle confessed to everything. First, he hired a local guy named Brandon Meeks to steal your laptop then try to kill you the first time. After Meeks bungled the job, he hired a professional, Dyer, to get the hard drive, your new laptop, then kill you.”

Her hands began to shake. “Oh my God,” she whispered, hearing Chang’s words but still having a difficult time digesting it all.

“Exactly,” the detective agreed. “I never thought we’d break Teedle so easily. Your friend, that Secret Service cop, was instrumental in getting his confession. At first, I thought he was going to ram his fist in Teedle’s face, then he used some kind of philosophical mumbo jumbo I’ve never seen during an interview before, but it worked. Even with his attorney holding his hand, Teedle told us everything.”

“Wait,” Cassidy squeaked. “Did you say Markus was there?” In the recesses of her mind, she knew the most integral aspect of the detective’s report ought to be the fact that Teedle confessed, but the only thing that seemed relevant was that Markus had stuck around to assist the state police with their investigation. As Kaitlyn had said, she’d assumed he’d gone back to D.C.

“Yes,” he continued. “And we’re picking Brandon Meeks up now. As soon as he understands what he’s looking at, I have a feeling Meeks will add to the evidence against Teedle.”

“Wow,” was all she could say. “You’ve been busy.”

Detective Chang chuckled. “You could say that. And your theory about Teedle hiding assets was accurate. The divorce he’s going through is vicious, and his real assets are sky high. His wife caught him cheating and decided she wanted a big chunk of everything he owned, including his business. So he started hiding his assets. During divorce proceedings, his personal accountant—who happens to be his brother—prepared a bogus audit of his net worth, one that made it appear as if his business was on the rocks and he was practically broke. The wife and her attorneys didn’t believe it and demanded he get another audit done by an independent CPA.”

“Me,” she said. “Because he thought I’d either be too stupid to see that the numbers didn’t add up or too greedy to care.”

“Exactly. He said he hired you because you were young, and he figured you’d be inexperienced. When you waffled on him, the bonus he offered was supposed to seal the deal. When it didn’t, he decided to kill you. No loose ends.”

“This is unbelievable.” She knew people killed for money all the time. She just never thought it would happen to her.

“It is,” he agreed. “But it happens more often than you think. Teedle said he got the idea from something his brother told him about a wealthy banker in New York City who killed his accountant when the guy tried to blackmail him into keeping quiet about all his hidden assets. Teedle’s net worth was big enough that he didn’t want to give half to his wife, and he couldn’t take the chance you’d either go public with what you’d found or try to squeeze him for hush money for the rest of his life.”

“Here I was thinking that Teedle would help jumpstart my business by giving me a glowing recommendation to his friends.” Guess that wouldn’t be happening.

“Yeah, well…” Detective Chang said in a sympathetic tone. “We’ll keep you posted on how things progress and notify you if you have to come to court.”

“Thank you,” she replied numbly and ended the call.

She went back into the dining room and sat down. Conversation ceased and all eyes turned to her.

“Who was that?” her dad asked, his tone suspiciously cheery.

“The state police.”

Her dad hmphed and his expression turned to one of disappointment.

“Teedle confessed. They arrested him, and they found the guy who broke into my house the first time and tried to run me down.”

“That’s good,” her dad said. “That’s very good.”

It was good. So why didn’t she feel good?

Okay, so Markus had helped out the state police, but she had no reason to believe anything had changed. If nothing else, she and Markus had become friends. He was probably just doing what he did best and helping out a friend.

Soon, she’d be going back to her house and he wouldn’t be there. Ever. As much as she loved her little Craftsman, maybe it was time for a change. “I’m thinking of selling my house,” she blurted.

“What?” Kaitlyn gaped.

Brianna’s eyes flew open. “Why?”

Cassidy folded her napkin, carefully setting it on the table as she swallowed the lump in her throat. She absolutely adored her little Craftsman. What she was about to say was an admission she’d been avoiding but couldn’t put off any longer. “It’s turning into a money pit, and I can’t take care of it all by myself. Hugh and I bought it together with the understanding that he’d fix it up and, of course, he’d be paying half the bills. I can’t do it on my own anymore.” Nor did she want to. Renting an apartment wasn’t the direction she wanted her life to take, but it was the financially prudent thing to do. Numbers didn’t lie, and those in her bank statement weren’t adding up to enough to justify keeping the house.

She blinked rapidly, praying that lump in her throat didn’t launch right out of her mouth. But God, after everything that had happened, all she wanted was to crawl into the corner, curl up in a ball, and cry for the next month. Maybe even two.

“Don’t make any hasty decisions,” her dad suggested. “Why don’t you take some time and—” The doorbell cut him off. Her dad’s face instantly brightened. “I think I’ll get that.”

He went into the hall, and she heard the front door open. A few seconds later, he came back. “Cassidy, someone’s here to see ya, lass.”

Markus stood next to her dad, looking flabbergastingly handsome in slacks and a dress shirt beneath his winter jacket. His face was tense to the point where she could see the tendons flexing in his jaw. Ghost, on the other hand, seemed totally at ease, his tail wagging and the rest of his big body wriggling.

Cassidy’s ears began to ring and she felt light-headed. Breathe. Just breathe. Now she understood her father’s odd behavior and why he seemed subtly joyous this evening. Obviously, he’d hatched up this visit with Markus and hadn’t told anyone.

Every head at the table turned from Markus to Cassidy.

“What are you doing here?” she croaked, amazed that she could choke out any words at all, what with her heart being stuck solidly in her throat.

Heads turned back to Markus, as if they were watching a tennis tournament. Only then did she notice he was carrying a brown paper bag about the size of a carton of eggs.

“I, uh…can we talk?”

“Sure,” she managed. “I should thank you for saving my life.” Ghost whined and took a step closer. “You, too, Ghost.” Ghost uttered a short bark then bounded forward, running straight for her chair and straining to lick her face. Laughing, she obliged and lowered her head so he could get in a few good licks to her chin. “I missed you, too.” She dug her fingers into his thick coat, stroking his neck and back.

“Why don’t you two talk privately while we finish our dinner?” Her father practically pushed Markus into the living room, all the while grinning like he held the secrets of the world in his head. Which, she always assumed, he did.

As she followed Markus, the few bites of food she’d managed to get down decided to start somersaulting in her belly.

Ghost padded alongside her, nuzzling her hand for more attention. In an effort to maintain physical space between her and the man who’d turned her world completely upside down, she took the armchair by the Christmas tree. Ghost sat beside her, again nuzzling her hand until she stroked his ears. Markus set the paper bag on the coffee table then sat on the sofa, resting his forearms on his knees and staring at his clasped hands.

In the dining room, her family spoke in hushed tones, probably so they could eavesdrop on their conversation. After ten seconds of silence, her pulse pounded louder. After twenty seconds, she was biting her lower lip. Finally, she couldn’t take the silence. “I’m glad you came,” she said.

His head snapped up. “You are?”

She nodded. “Last night, things got so hectic, I never had the chance to thank you for saving my life.” Desperately needing something to do with her hands, she ruffled Ghost’s ears.

His dark brows furrowed, crinkling his forehead. “I didn’t come here for your thanks.”

Her fingers stilled. “So why are you here?”

He grabbed the paper bag then came to kneel before her on the rug. Ghost shifted, sitting next to Markus and sniffing the bag that he’d set on the floor. If she didn’t feel so miserable, she would have laughed at the comical picture Markus and Ghost presented. It was as if they were both there to beg.

Markus took one of her hands in his. Ghost lifted his paw and rested it on top of her other hand. As Markus’s long fingers closed around hers, she tried not to think about how warm and strong and good they felt. When she tried tugging from his grasp, he wouldn’t let her and held her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers and squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, her jaw dropped. Tears glistened in his obsidian eyes.

“Cassidy,” he choked out in a raspy voice. “I know you’ve been hurt before, and I know I hurt you again. That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do, and I’m sorry.”

Please, don’t do this.Why was he torturing her? Agreeing to speak with him was a mistake. Maybe he’d only come here to ease his conscience. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. She had to take care of her own needs now.

“You already told me that,” she said. Hearing it again wouldn’t do anything to heal her heart and let her move on. Be strong. She’d said the words before, and she needed to say them again. “I love you. I said it before, and I won’t take it back. But you need to leave, or I can’t move on.”

“I don’t want you to move on.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s taken me my entire life to see what’s been missing. You. You’re what’s been missing. I don’t know what will happen, and I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this, but I do know one thing.”

“What’s that?” she whispered, then held her breath.

“I love you.” The heart she’d been petrified would crack beat frighteningly fast. “And, if it’s okay with you, I’m never leaving you again.”

Her eyes flew open, as did her mouth. He’d just said the three little words she’d hoped to hear, and she couldn’t form a single coherent sentence.

“Say something.” He gazed at her through worried, dark eyes, looking completely mortified. “I love you,” he repeated, then louder, “I love you.”

Vaguely, she realized that all conversation in the dining room had ceased. Still, she couldn’t say a damn word.

He reached for the paper bag then pulled out an elongated yellow and brown box. Cassidy’s jaw dropped, and she gasped. She tugged her other hand from beneath Ghost’s heavy paw and clapped it to her mouth.

Mallomars.

He held the box out to her. A tiny sob escaped her lips as she accepted his gift. Tears spilled from her eyes onto the shiny wrapper.

“If that’s not enough to convince you how much I love you, I have an entire case outside in my truck.”

A whole case? This was the most beautiful, wonderful gift he could have given her. “Where did you find them?” she whispered.

The corners of his mouth lifted. “Does it matter?”

No. It didn’t. All that mattered was that he was here, and he loved her. He loved her. Funny how a box of cookies sealed the deal.

“I love you, too.” She launched into his arms, crushing her mouth to his as he wrapped his arms around her.

Ghost insinuated his snout between them, forcing them to break off the kiss just as loud cheering and clapping erupted and her family joined them.

“Sorry,” she said, wiping tears—of joy, this time—from her eyes. “If I haven’t told you, we’re also a nosy bunch.”

The broad smile he gave her melted her heart. “I can live with that.”