If it hadn’t been for the policeman standing in front of her, she was certain she would have been killed. Her eyes went to the knife lying on the floor. She shuddered.
She had been saved by a cop. A cop from LaMar Pond. It could be a trick. Cops were clever. She didn’t know which ones she could trust. Was this cop one of the good guys? Or was he connected to the man who had killed Phillip?
The cop glared at the man sitting on the floor. “You can stop that right now. I’m gonna read you your rights, and then you’re going for a ride to jail. So you can sit and think about the error of your ways.”
Maggie was shocked when her would-be killer obeyed, although his eyes continued to shoot pure venom at Maggie and her rescuer.
What was the cop’s name again? Williams?
“Detective Williams,” she began but stopped when he shook his head.
“Willis, ma’am. Lieutenant Willis.” He moved his right arm but suddenly sucked in a breath and winced. He lifted his elbow away from his body, angling his head so he could look at his side. His leather jacket gaped open. That’s when she noticed the blood seeping from a wound on his right side.
“You’re hurt! Did he stab you?” Her eyes flicked from the offending knife back to his side. The stain was spreading across his T-shirt. An ugly chuckle sounded from the attacker. Both Maggie and Lieutenant Willis ignored the man. It was difficult to see the extent of the injury because of the leather jacket he wore. “I didn’t hear you call for an ambulance.”
A fleeting expression crossed his face—annoyance, embarrassment?—before it once again smoothed out.
“I’ll take care of it, ma’am. No need for you to worry about it.”
The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he swayed. Maggie leaped forward, grabbed his left arm and hauled him over to a chair. Relying on her first-aid training, she grabbed a towel from the basket of clean laundry on the kitchen table. She used the towel to apply firm pressure to the wound.
“Hold this,” she ordered him.
“I’m fine,” he grumbled, his voice gruff. “Just tired.”
“We still need to stop the bleeding. Hold it.”
As soon as he was holding it in place, she picked up the cordless phone from the counter to call 911. A baby’s wail cut across the silence before she could dial.
“Here.” Lieutenant Willis held out his left hand, keeping his right pressed firmly against the towel. “I will call. You take care of the baby.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes at him. Could she trust him enough to turn her back on him while she tended to her babies? A second loud bellow decided for her. Her daughter had no volume control. Maggie knew from experience that the baby girl would only get louder until her needs were met. Nodding, she thrust the phone into his outstretched hand and hurried across the room to the stroller, where the babies still sat. Rory was still asleep, his head slumped against one side of the stroller. Siobhan was a different story. She continued wailing until Maggie picked her up. Then she was all smiles as one chubby hand tangled itself in Maggie’s curls and the other waved in the air while she babbled. Maggie went to the refrigerator and prepared a sippy cup of milk under the malevolent stare of the attacker.
Someone knocked on the back door. Maggie shrieked and dropped the cup, clasping her daughter protectively against her. Cold milk sloshed on her faded jeans. The child squawked in protest.
“Police,” a voice called out.
“In here,” Lieutenant Willis responded.
A pair of uniformed policemen stepped into the room. One of them glanced over at Maggie, still holding her squirming, fussing daughter, milk dripping on the floor.
“Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Not sure she would be able to speak, Maggie nodded and bent down to retrieve the cup. Keeping a wary eye on the visitors in her small kitchen, she poured her daughter another cup and handed it to her. Knowing Siobhan would be occupied for a few minutes, she set her daughter down on the rug behind her. Happy, the child slurped her milk while Maggie used the towel hanging on the refrigerator door to clean up the mess.
“You guys got here quick,” Lieutenant Willis noted, a wry twist to his lips. “I only called five minutes ago.”
“Yes, sir. We were on our way back from another call a mile from here.”
The lieutenant nodded once. “Very good, gentlemen. You can take this guy off my hands.” He jerked his head toward the sneering man sitting on the floor.
The officers hefted the handcuffed man to his feet and led him toward the door.
“You okay, Lieutenant? Need us to call the paramedics?”
Dan waved a dismissive hand at them. “Done. I think the bleeding’s stopped, anyway.”
“Read him his rights yet?”
“Yep. He’s all yours. Get him a nice, cozy cell.”
The man jeered at them. “You guys think you’re so tough.” He shot a snide glance at Maggie. “And you—don’t think this is the end. He knows where you live now. And even if you move...it’ll be easy to track you down with them.” He motioned with his head toward the little girl, who had abandoned her cup and was crawling away. Maggie grabbed the child, ignoring her squawk of protest. Her stomach curdled, ached, and her mouth grew dry.
The officers nudged the man toward the door. “Dude, you have the right to remain silent. I’d seriously consider doing that.”
Lieutenant Willis stood abruptly. He put a hand on the lead officer’s shoulder, halting him so he could stare down the attacker.
Maggie shivered. Wow, his gray eyes were so cold. And hard. With his longer-than-regulation-length blond hair and leather jacket, he looked carefree. But she had seen him in action. This was not a man to be messed with. Not to mention the fact that he had to be at least six feet tall. Six feet of muscle.
“Who is after her?” Even though his voice was soft, Maggie could clearly hear it across the room.
The man raised his chin defiantly. “I got my rights. I want a lawyer. And a phone call.”
Lieutenant Willis’s expression melted into a scowl. He jerked his head toward the door. “Get him outta here.”
The officers dragged the man from the house. Lieutenant Willis sat heavily, a sigh escaping as he stared at Maggie. He was gearing up to ask questions. Lots of questions. She could almost imagine his thoughts aligning themselves in his head. Her spine straightened. Just because she didn’t have a choice about talking to him didn’t mean she had to like it. But he had saved her—and her babies. She had no doubt her attacker would have hurt them, too, to try to get answers out of her. The lieutenant’s rescue had to mean something. She would cooperate. But still, she’d better keep up her guard.
The arrival of the paramedics forestalled the interrogation. The stoic lieutenant made a big show of tossing the bloody towel over his shoulder to allow the men to examine him. The bleeding had stopped. It was soon clear that he hadn’t been stabbed as
