Page 119 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“Of course, this is abouther. That creepy little mare. She shouldn’t be allowed near my baby?—”
When I realize she’s talking about Emily, my vision washes red. “Shut your fucking mouth.”
“Are you one ofthem, too? Oh, that’s fucking priceless?—”
“I mean it, Miranda. Not another word about Emily. She’s a thousand times the person you are, and she’ll be a thousand times the mother you’ll ever be. You don’t ever talk shit about Emily to me. I don’t know what you thought you’d accomplish, coming here, confronting me, but now you know what we have on you. Do the smart thing and give Logan custody. Go quietly away and leave him and Emily alone for the rest of their lives.”
“I fucking will not. You don’t have anything but old rumors. Nicholas’s death was ruled an accident?—”
“No,” I say very firmly. “It wasn’t. There was no inquest. I’m guessing that’s because your parents paid off the coroner. But I’ve got Nicholas’s death certificate and the cause of death was drowning, not illness. Push me and I’ll happily make my last stop before I leave this swamp of a country the District Attorney’s office.”
“Crown Prosecutor,” De Leon grunts, loudly enough for us to hear him, even though he’s standing twenty feet away at the bar. He’s sitting on a stool facing us, watching and listening. Good man.
Miranda’s eyes flick to the case I’ve set next to the chair.
I kiss my teeth at her. “It’s all uploaded to the Cloud. You can trash every piece of kit I brought with me. It won’t make any difference. You’re done. Concede gracefully and nothing else happens to you. Logan just wants his daughter. He doesn’t want her mother to spend the next decade in prison. He doesn’t want a war.”
Miranda’s face crumples. Tears like glittering drops of snowmelt slide down her porcelain cheeks. “She’s mine.”
“Stop thinking like that. She’s Logan’s. Accept it.”
She swings her head back and forth, a slow-motion shake like she’s trying to throw off my words one by one.
“I’ll drag him and Emily through the courts,” she says slowly. “They’re not fit parents. A judge will never give them custody.”
“Crown Prosecutor it is,” I respond.
“You’re bullshitting,” she spits. “You don’t have anything but that fucking cow’s bile.”
“I have two eyewitnesses. I have their testimony on video. Even if they refuse to testify, the videos are admissible.”
I know this for a fact because Logan’s British solicitor walked me through what evidence she could and couldn’t use while I was still being wracked by the “bad Balti” De Leon inflicted on me.
“Who? Erica would never talk to you.”
I make a note of the name, but I don’t plan to spend any more time in this cold, wet country tracking her down. “Fred Evans. Pete Clarke.”
“They’re lying. Fred’s a goddamn stalker. He’d say anything to get back at me.”
I shake my head at her. “You know what he told me? He told me he still loves you. His whole life is in ruins. His wife left him. Took their daughter with her. He can’t even leave the village because of that thing on his ankle. But he doesn’t seem angry or bitter. He’s just broken. You broke him, Miranda. Just like you broke Nicholas. I’m not giving you a chance to break Logan’s daughter.”
She’s up out of her chair, flying at me, her palm crashing into my cheek, much faster than I thought a woman as pregnant as she is could move.
I take the hit. It’s not the first I’ve taken. May not be the last. I roll my head with it. Let the heat of it wash over my face, up my sinuses. I let De Leon drag her back.
I let a slow, cold smile spread across my face as I roll my head back and look up at her. “Goodbye, Miranda.”
“You arse!” She yells at me, tugging against De Leon’s hold on her arm.
I hold her eyes and continue giving her that cold, victorious smile until she sags in De Leon’s grip.
Leeza Skirmish bustles out from wherever she’s been lurking, hand pressed to the base of her throat in genteel distress. “What’s going on here?”
“Assault,” De Leon grunts. “On one of your paying guests.”
“Goodness!” Miz Skirmish squeaks. “Miranda, I can’t be having this.”
Miranda finally succeeds in pulling away from De Leon. Or, more likely, he releases her when he decides she’s no longer a threat. He still positions himself between her and me as she gathers up her bag and is bustled away by a frowning and flustered Miz Skirmish.
