Her Detective's Secret Intent

“But as it turns out, it was a misdiagnosis. I had a biopsy soon after you came out here and what they’d found in the lining of my lungs was nonmalignant.”

Miranda’s chin tightened.

“So now, I’ve come to collect my family and take them home,” the chief said, looking at Chantel, as though Miranda wasn’t even there.

“Miranda is a grown woman with a successful career. You can’t force her to go with you,” Chantel said.

“I think I can,” the man said. “Actually, I know I can.” He opened his file again. “I’ve been in touch with her psychiatrist and I have here a signed commitment order—”

“It’s okay.” Miranda shook her head. “You don’t need to do this. I’ll go with you.” She turned to him, tears in her eyes. “You win, okay?”

Brian O’Connor looked almost sad for a second before he reached across the table, holding out his hand.

Tad could hardly believe it when she let go of the seat she’d been clutching and put her hand in his.

Chapter 28

Miranda hadn’t had any idea what her father was going to do, but she’d known he’d do something. He never left himself unprepared.

Or left stones unturned.

Briefly, sitting in the conference room with Chantel and Tad, she’d had moments of hope. When her father had confirmed his illness, she’d figured that even worst case, she’d only have to fight him off for another year or two, less depending on how quickly he grew weaker.

When he’d admitted that the illness had been misdiagnosed, she’d known where it was all going.

How it would end.

So she’d play it out.

She asked her father, in front of the others, if she could please have an hour or so back at her house with Tad, so they could clear out her stuff and Ethan’s, because she knew that if she asked without the others there, he’d likely say no just to establish that he was the one in charge.

Sitting there, listening to him render her powerless, it was as though she’d become him. If she was going to save Ethan, she was going to have to play her father’s game. Know him better than he knew himself.

Her son had his favorite things. She was going to get them for him.

Her lease and so on she’d deal with later.

Reminding her that she could have everything packed and shipped if she wanted to, he said, “I have us on a flight back to Charlotte that leaves in a little over four hours. I’m expected in my office Thursday morning. Will half an hour do?”

If he’d refused outright, he’d have looked bad in front of Chantel.

Five minutes would do. She knew what she was after. The money. And Ethan’s things. And couldn’t take more than she could easily carry. She’d be leaving it all soon enough, but if she could give Ethan his favorite things, just for the first few days...

She might have to get on the flight. Might even end up in her father’s home, where he’d most likely have her under guard, a guard no one would ever see, including her. But when she saw her chance, she’d take Ethan and run.

If she had her way, she wouldn’t be leaving Santa Raquel with her father. When Tad offered to bring Ethan in a few minutes, so she could have time to collect his things without having to answer the child’s questions, she shook her head immediately.

Tad’s tone was so respectful, conciliatory even, she wanted to puke. Or cry.

“I’m not leaving without my son,” she said, reacting. Not thinking first.

Tad looked to her father, his brows raised, giving him the last word. He, of course, then said, “Thank you, Detective, thank you. I’d rather the boy meet me in his own home, rather than a police station.”

“Okay, then, I’ll bring Ethan. I can meet you and Miranda at her house in, say, twenty minutes?”

“You’re a good man, Detective.”

Instinctively, she wanted to argue, to see her son, but knew that to balk would do her no good. Tad wasn’t going to run off with Ethan. Chantel was there. They were all doing their jobs. Pandering to her father was part of that.