Page 122 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
Logan shakes his head. “Go whole hog, Maxie. What would the purchase of a split-crotch onesie, a butt-plug tail, a dog collar and leash, and dog ears to dress my fiancée in make you think of my fitness as a parent?”
De Leon chuckles. “I’d think your sex life is a lot more interesting than mine. Don’t have a thing to do with what kind of father you’d make.”
“That’s right,” Logan says firmly. “And that’s what this is about. Her negligence, her selfishness, and her emotional instability are what’s at issue here. Not the sex games I like to play with another consenting adult.” He levels his dark gaze on me. “I can’t let her make me ashamed of what I have with Emmy. I can’t let fear force me into the closet. I won’t.”
My throat thickens. He’s willing to risk that, a protracted battle for his daughter, over his principles? Jesus, he’s brave.
If he can be that brave, I can, too. I straighten my shoulders. “Okay, no hiding. What else can I do now?”
Logan shakes his head. “We’re done. Evidence is with the solicitor. If she needs anything else, she’ll let us know.”
“What about turning it over to a Crown Prosecutor?” De Leon asks. “I know Max didn’t mean that threat, but it’s something you should consider. An ongoing criminal investigation for manslaughter unquestionably fucks her on the fitness argument.”
I frown at him. “How’d you know I didn’t mean that threat?”
De Leon slants a glance at me. “Because for all that you can be an asshole to me, you have a soft heart, Max. I’ve spent weeks watching you, listening to you. I know what’s in your depths and there’s no malice there. You have to be more than a little hateful to take a woman’s babyandsend her to jail.”
“Or just have a very strong sense of justice,” I object.
“Please. You live in the gray spaces in-between as much as I do. Your corner’s just a lot brighter than mine. Justice isn’t something we get to indulge in. The real question isn’t whether you’d do it, it’s whether Logan would. He hates her enough.”
Logan glowers. “Or I have a strong enough sense of justice.”
De Leon stretches and yawns. “Whatever you want to call it. I’ve seen you in operation enough times to know how fucking ruthless you can be.”
Logan tips his head from side to side, cracking his neck. He doesn’t disagree.
“I won’t rule it out as a possibility,” he says. “But it’s not on the table right now. Something I would appreciate your input on, though. I’m not going to be able to keep this from Emmy. Telling her I found out when Miranda was in subspace is ... not a good option. She’s had too many reasons to doubt me lately. Is thereanything you came across that could have tipped me off under other circumstances?”
It barely takes me a moment to come up with a plausible alternative.
“Fred Evans stalked Miranda throughout the first year you two were together. If she told you about him at the time and you decided to confront him?” I shrug. “Easily could have come out then. He wasn’t shy about it when I asked. Maybe you thought it was just the raving of a jilted ex at the time but decided to follow it up when it became clear she wouldn’t give up custody without a fight.”
Logan’s shoulders slump with what looks like relief.
“Thank you, Maxie. That’s good. I’m going to open the door to her asking me questions about this during Knee Time. If she asks me how I knew, I’ll suggest this avenue without lying to her.”
De Leon coughs into his fist. “Why no lying?”
“If you want your little to be honest with you, you have to be honest with them,” I explain.
“And if they ask about shit that’s classified? That you can’t talk about? What if they ask your kill count?”
I really hope Cynnie never asks me that, but if she did, I’d tell her. It’s not an issue of national security anymore, and if I want to be Cynnie’s secret-keeper, I have to trust her to be mine, too.
But I appreciate there may be things De Leon can never talk to anyone about, ever. “You tell them it’s off limits.”
De Leon scoffs. “Deterred no woman, ever.”
“No, if you explain why it’s off limits,” Logan says. “They’ll respect that. Littles are very good with limits.”
De Leon glances from me to Logan, doubt clear in his eyes.
There’s a knock on the door that makes us all look up. Logan calls out and the door cracks open. Emily’s big, hazel eyes blinkthrough the crack. “Daddy? It’s been a half-hour. You said Max and Mr. De Leon might want something to drink by now.”
Logan nods and I take that as a signal we’re done. There’s more to go over, but none of it is urgent. Nor do we need De Leon around for it.
De Leon unfolds his long body from the chair. “Thank you, Emily, but I’m going to say goodnight.” He looks over at Logan. “See you Sunday.”
