HAIR TODAY, GONE TOMORROW
The next morning, Pax rose up out of bed the instant the door snicked shut behind Donovan's ass. He had thought she was asleep as usual, but she wasn't, not this time. They had a spare bedroom and she kept a few things stored in there. One of them was, of course, her suitcase. She dragged it into the bedroom and spread it out onto the bed. She couldn't believe the amount of shit she had accumulated since she moved in with him. She sure as shit couldn't take everything with her. She had always traveled light, and today would be no exception. Thing was, she just didn't know where she wanted to go. It didn't matter. By the time Donovan came home, she would be long gone. Perhaps this time, he would be angry enough not to give enough of a fuck to chase after her. The suitcase was stuffed now, probably overflowing. If she didn't stop, she'd never get the damn thing snapped closed. Pax reached up to slap the lid down and that's when the bedroom light reflected nicely off the diamonds in the engagement ring. Fuck it and fuck it some more. She had had her cap set to leave. It was time to go, but she couldn't fucking leave. Cursing nonsensically, she shoved the suitcase off the bed. She didn't give a tin shit if every piece of clothing she had was dirtied in the process. Nothing mattered. Nothing at all. After a long moment of feeling sorry for herself, she picked up the suitcase and unpacked. When that task was accomplished, she decided to take a long walk. She might not be able to leave his ass permanently, but she could at least get the fuck out of this loft and get some air. If she didn't, she thought she might lose her mind.
Pax wasn't aware that one Detective Alayna Norwood and her junior partner were observing every move she made. Since discovering Paxton's colorful past, Alayna had become quite interested in the woman. While she had distracted Donovan on his turf, she had sent a few of her esteemed colleagues to collect a strand or three of hair. There had been a few stray hairs, jet-black, in the Hilton bathroom. No one around the immediate family had black hair. No one but Frank Donovan. And then there was the girlfriend. She was an ash blonde. Alayna wasn't sure if it was natural or a dye job, but they hadn't found anything like that lingering around. Yet, if Paxton had done the dirty work for Donovan while he looked on, perhaps she had taken care to ensure that her hair wasn't around. She wasn't stupid. Donovan's hair didn't truly belong there, well not in the bathroom anyway, but there were just too many avenues to ignore right now. What evidence that was collected had been sent to the lab. They wouldn't have any results for a few more days. However, right at this moment, Alayna's attention was focused on Paxton. She didn't understand the attraction, didn't get the relationship. What was it? What had brought this all about? From what she'd read, Paxton was a mess from day one. If Donovan had fixed one situation for her, he was bound to have fixed a dozen others. He could get a lot of shit covered up, even some of his own. She longed to nail Paxton right now. She wanted to throw her in an interrogation room and plant her foot in the woman's stomach. I'd show you. Alayna had done something quite naughty and made photocopies of some of Paxton's records. She was drawn only to the juicier ones. This particular bit of information made her theory even more true to life. Paxton had had a child, a boy. He had died in an accident when he was about two, the same age as Stasia Donovan when Paxton made her appearance. It was complex and jumbled up. There were so damn many pieces of the puzzle. Now tell me, you skinny bitch, just where do you think you're going?
* * *
Donovan was listening as Monica and Cody gave him the lowdown on Draper. He had his finger in almost every shady business in town. On top of it all, he wasn't a very nice guy. He had been implicated in several gangland style murders. He chose to do things like the old time gangsters did. Some of the crime scene photos Cody had on his system were disturbing. Donovan couldn't immediately put his finger on it, but it seemed as if he had seen something similar to this. In an instantaneous flash, he had it. Remy and Darryl. What interest would Draper have in them? He could understand if Donovan had had dealings with the man before, but he hadn't ever seen him. Although he hated to admit it, he needed Norwood's crime scene photos. She would never let him have them, of course, because she thought her suspect was already in the palm of her hand. He was about to ask Cody to dig up some info about the murders, but the phone caught him off guard. Monica grabbed it before he had the chance.
"Boss, it's for you. Wade Denizen."
For a moment, he was a bit confused. He hadn't heard the name 'Wade Denizen' in years. He only knew the agent in passing and no clear idea why he would contact him now. He nodded toward Monica. "Thanks. I'll take it upstairs." He tromped up to his office and took hold of the phone. "Donovan."
"Been a while, Frank, hasn't it," Denizen said. "I've been meaning to call you for a couple of days, but we've had our hands full here lately. I'm sure you know what I mean," he said with a slight laugh. He didn't give Donovan a chance to speak. He plunged ahead. "I want you to understand that what I'm about to tell you is strictly off the record. In other words, you didn't hear it from me. I've heard you're taking some heat from the Chicago police regarding a murder. Your ex-wife was married to a fairly shady guy. On the day he was murdered, we had raided his office, and would have taken him into custody if the killer hadn't intervened. He had dealings with a man named Draper. He basically told us everything we wanted to know about him and his business dealings. I wouldn't be afraid to say that Draper is the man the CPD is looking for."
Donovan closed his eyes tightly and clenched the phone in his fist. If he didn't loosen his grip, he would destroy it. He clearly remembered the day he met Hilton the first time. Remy was at his place with Stasia and she had asked him to meet her there. Hilton was quite vague about what he did for a living, but Donovan was overwhelmed by the splendor in which he had surrounded himself. Residences such as this were reserved for corporate raiders and the like. Hilton didn't strike him as being someone in that league. He didn't trust the other man. Donovan wanted to brush it off as being over protective of his daughter, but it was something else. It was a hunch right then and there. He had known Hilton wasn't straight that first day. You can't run a background check on every man your ex-wife dates, Pax had commented. No. He couldn't, but he should have. "I appreciate the information," Donovan said when he could vocalize again. There was so much more he wanted to say and ask, but he didn't think he had the ability at the moment. It was a combination of shock, regret, and anger. What he wouldn't give to have Norwood sitting in on this conversation so she'd back off. He wasn't worried about himself, but he was concerned about Pax. At any time now, he expected her to bolt. Each time he saw her at the end of the day, it was another unexpected surprise. "I'm sure this will be something I can use, but your name won't come up." Without another word, he hung up.
* * *
There was someone else watching Pax as she took her morning head clearing stroll. Actually, Pat Draper had been watching both Donovan and his girlfriend since before the funeral. He knew the guy was related to the FBI in some way and also knew that he was married to Remy Hilton at one time. He often wondered if Donovan was one of the federal guys that Hilton had sung to before he met his untimely demise? God, it was messy, messy. He hated messes. He actually didn't want to take out any more people, but he would do whatever it took to keep his nose clean. It was just his stupid dumb luck to find Hilton's wife at home. He didn't intend to find anyone but the hired help waiting in the wings. Why hadn't she gone shopping or some shit like most of the wives in their circles? She had had to mouth off at him. If she had kept her mouth shut, he might have let her go, but she didn't. He was nice enough to her, but she didn't like him, and didn't mind letting him know it at every turn. Her death was messy, messy, but also necessary. And now, he had to deal with Donovan. Donovan bothered him a little. He didn't know much about the guy and couldn't get much information. All he did know was that he had an uptown loft, a girlfriend, and a little girl. He wouldn't bother the little girl. He would focus his energies on the girlfriend. Perhaps if something small happened to her, it would send a nice message to him to back off. Today, the leggy woman was walking briskly along the sidewalk. What if he were to wait until she went into the crosswalk and then he could just about nick her with his car. If she didn't do that, perhaps he could park his car and rough her up a little. He wanted to send just a little message. If that didn't work, he could perform the same type of operation he had on Hilton's wife. After the drugs kicked in, she hadn't felt an ounce of pain. He wasn't an altogether bad guy, now was he? He gave the car some gas, but was cut off by a black four-door sedan. He cursed. He nearly made good on his project until he recognized the woman behind the wheel. She was a fucking cop. Goddamn it. He couldn't move in front of a cop. They were following the girlfriend as well. This was an interesting development. What was this? Was she under protection? If that was the case, then Donovan definitely knew about him. He would have to watch the girlfriend, get her alone, and give the fed a clear message. He thought he could get away with a hint, but that wasn't good enough anymore.
* * *
Pax had walked until she thought she might vomit. Her legs were aching and her ankles shaking. How far out had she gone? It didn't matter. It felt good. It had worked out a lot of shit. Twice she had tried to leave and twice she had failed. It just wasn't going to happen. She had to face facts and get on with her life. Get on with your life. Get on with it with Donovan. Maybe she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with him. Maybe that was it after all. Sometimes, it did take a Mack truck smacking her in the face before she saw the real deal. She caressed the ache out of her legs and spied a vendor across the street. She hoped they had water. She would sell her soul for a single cup right now. She was getting much too old for this shit.
"You do walk fast," a voice said from beside her.
Pax looked to her immediate right. She had no idea that someone had taken the empty space beside her. Of course, the 'someone' wasn't a person she wanted to see. Detective fucking Norwood. She took deep breaths [Goddamn you, Donovan. You're rubbing off on me] to contain the rage bubbling beneath the surface. If she didn't blow up, she would treat herself to some real coffee and maybe a cigarette. Naw…the coffee, maybe. The cigarette can go to hell. Don't want to get that shit started again. She noticed that the ugly bitch was smirking at her, her green eyes glittering as if she were a happy child on Christmas Eve. Pax rested her hands against the bench, actually clenching the edges. She didn't want her hands free, because she knew the cop was going to say something stupid. "I have long legs," she commented nonchalantly. "I suppose you've been following along behind me all morning? Don't you have anything better to do? Like solving crimes? Like finding the true perps instead of pointing the finger at innocent men? Jesus, lady, I've been out of the game for a while, but I thought you were here to protect and serve, not follow and stalk." Pax thought she saw the other woman's eye twitch.
I don't like you. I really, really don't like you, Alayna thought. Of course, her partner was hanging close by in case Paxton decided to get grabby. "So say you," Alayna told her. "I'll bet there wasn't any love lost between you and Remy, right? How did she feel about you elbowing your way in like you did? How did she feel about your role in her daughter's life? I'm sure she knew what you did for a living, didn't she? So what are you going to tell the little girl when she's old enough to ask questions? Children are curious. She'll want to know. Stepmommy was an assassin for the CIA. What a thing for show and tell. I'm sure she'll be the hit of her class. Does your lover know about your track record with children? Does he know you let your kid get run down on the road like a chipmunk?"
A red haze suddenly enveloped her. It was all she could see and feel. The bitch could talk all the shit she wanted about her former line of work, her past, etc. But no one…no one would talk shit about her son or the way he died. This was low, so very low. Pax had done a lot of shit in her life that she regretted every day, but even she didn't think she deserved such a cut. "For your information," she began through gritted teeth. "He knows everything about my son. For your information, his father murdered him. For your information, if you don't get out of my fucking face in twenty seconds, you will have to put me in cuffs. If you don't move, I swear to God, I'll fucking beat you down. If you want to cuff me now, I suggest you call your partner over, because you won't do it by yourself." Pax focused her eyes on the detective. The sapphire color of them had actually darkened. "Your time is almost up, Detective Norwood," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "Make your move."
This monster sitting beside her meant every damn word she said. Again, she was tempted to take Paxton up on her offer. It wouldn't take long to subdue her with some help. But she wanted to wait for the lab. If the DNA matched Donovan, she might have enough to make an arrest. "I'll tell you like I told your lover, I'll be in touch, Agent Paxton."
When the cop from hell left her alone, Pax buried her face into her hands. Jesus, I can't believe she mentioned my son. I can't believe she stooped so low. I can't believe she thought I killed him. What the hell was she thinking? If the cop knew so damn much about her records, then she had to know about Lee. Goddamn the bitch. Goddamn her. It had been quite some time since she had actually taken anyone out, but she was so fucking close. All it would have taken was one simple smack up against the bridge of her nose, and Alayna Norwood would be no more. She would be dead before she even realized it. She had no idea where she found the strength to fight away the impulse. She had actually visualized herself doing it, could almost feel the sensation of her hand smashing up against her nose. What am I doing? What am I thinking? It took a very long time for her to collect herself. Once she felt halfway normal, she stood and made her way back toward home. If it weren't for encountering the members of his team, she might search out Donovan. She wanted to see him, needed to see him. Yet, it wouldn't be such a hot idea right now. Home. She needed to go home. If she could just get home, she would be okay. Donovan would eventually come to her. She had never needed someone so much.
* * *
Donovan was in his office trying to make sense of everything he had learned today. He couldn't believe how much had changed within such a short amount of time. Jake and Alex would infiltrate the office where Hilton had worked to see if they could find any information about how he had gotten connected with Draper. The phone rang beside him and he had been working on automatic for so long, that he reached out and grabbed it without thinking. "Donovan."
"Frank?"
It was a voice he recognized immediately. It was his ex-father in-law, Joe Ellis. He wasn't certain what the man would want from him at this stage outside a visit with his granddaughter. Not that long ago, he had been sitting across from him, throwing daggers with his eyes. He actually didn't have time to deal with family issues right now. Donovan hated doing it, but he would have to put him off for a while. "Mr. Ellis," he began. He didn't feel comfortable calling him 'Joe' anymore. "I'm sorry, but this isn't a good time."
"No, it isn't," he said, his voice hollow. "I've been speaking to Alayna and she has told us what she thinks. I think it best that we take Anastasia. We'll do whatever it takes. I just want you to understand that."
Donovan clenched his teeth and gripped the phone. God. This phone had taken some abuse over the years. "Your cousin is insane. There is nothing to what she says. I'll burn in hell before I'll let anyone take my daughter away from me. I have no issue with you seeing her or spending time with her, but she's mine. If it's a battle you want, it's a battle you shall have."
"Frank, I'm sorry. I just think this is the best way."
"You do what you want." He hung up.
What the hell was going on with the world? Was he living in a third dimension? His former in-laws wanted to take his daughter away from him? What the hell did they think they were doing? Jesus Christ. Not only had the cop pointed her finger at him, she had basically convinced Remy's parents that they needed to take his daughter. He meant every word he said. He would see them in hell first. No one would take his child. No one. He wasn't certain he could concentrate now. From here on out, he would be looking over his shoulder, wondering when someone would fly in and grab Stasia right out from under his nose. The Ellis' had never had a problem with him before. They knew what he did. They knew what kind of life he led. For fuck's sake, they knew him. He was married to their fucking daughter for two years. Lived with her a year before that. How could they believe he would harm Stasia's mother? At times, Remy could get all over his nerves, but he would have never harmed a hair on her head. Even as angry as he was during the divorce proceedings, he never laid a finger on her. Jesus. He was tempted to call Pax. He truly needed to hear her voice right now, but it wasn't the right time. Later. It would have to wait until later.
____________________
To be continued…