AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Whatever noise happened in the house this weekend would come from making up for lost time with Shirley’s baby boy.
At the same time Shirley was picking out sweet potatoes from the produce shelf, Wolf was in his Miami office opening email, when he noticed a message from Detective Giraud.
When Wolf saw the heading,BULLOCKS CHARGED, he quickly opened it. Then as he began to read, he physically sagged from the release of guilt that had been upon him.
DNA results confirm the Bullocks are Amalie Lincoln’s grandparents. They are officially under arrest, having been charged on multiple counts, and everything has been turned over to the district attorney.
There’s word they may try for a plea deal, but rest assured, they are not getting away with anything. They’re going to prison for the rest of theirlives and, to my knowledge, have named no less than thirteen people who assisted and abetted them. They are all being processed as I write this. On behalf of the City of New Orleans, we deeply regret the injustices you and your daughter have suffered. I know it changes nothing, but I have two sons, and I cannot imagine them having to go through what happened to your child. You are a good and dutiful father for seeking justice, and I greatly appreciate your choice to come to us, rather than seeking your own level of revenge.
Detective Louis Giraud
CID/NOPD
Wolf felt weightless, thinking if he moved, he might disappear. He sat until the feeling passed, then walked to the windows overlooking the city that had become his home. He needed to let Amalie know, but he couldn’t think. He just kept staring at the vista until it blurred. He tried to shake off the flood of emotions, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands as if that alone would stop the tears.
Help me.The thought came from his soul as he leaned his forehead against the window and took a breath, but when he exhaled, a sob came with it, and then another, and another, until he was crying too hard to stop, and the city disappeared before him. All he could see was Shandy’s face, smiling up at him, like the day they wed.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I lost our girl. I will forever believe you led us back to each other. I swear on my life, I won’t lose her again.
Shirley was home from the supermarket, and Sean was on the way to Jubilee to pick up Amalie, leaving Shirley happily on her own to begin baking for the weekend festivities.
Amalie had closed the office at noon and had been home for over an hour, watching for Sean to arrive, when it dawned on her that the same car had been driving slowly by her house. Ever since the news broke about her identity, she’d had call after call at her work, and reporters and photographers walking into her office looking for a story or to snap a few unsolicited photos.
They’d been an aggravation, but nothing more. If they didn’t leave when asked, she just called the police. After the tenth one was locked up and forced to pay bond to be released, that process slammed to a halt. Word was spreading.
Then she began to notice a different kind of harassment. They were the ones who didn’t want a story. They just wanted photos for the tabloids, then made up the story they wanted to go with it, but they were few and far between, and when they finally disappeared, she thought they were gone—until today.
The car had just circled the block again, and she was stewing about what to do when Sean drove up. Shenoticed the driver’s brake lights flash, and then the car sped up to go around the block again, probably in hopes of catching pictures of the both of them. She ran to the door before Sean was even at the steps.
“Hurry, Sean, hurry. Some guy has been circling the block for a solid hour. I think he’s paparazzi,” she shouted.
Sean stopped in midstep and turned back toward the street.
“What make and model car?” he asked.
“Dark-blue Toyota. It has an Illinois license plate. It could just be a tourist looking for an address, but I don’t think—”
Sean saw it coming. “Get back in the house and close the door.”
She frowned. “Honey, please. I don’t want you getting hurt again on my behalf.”
“I’m not gonna hurt him,” Sean said.
She groaned. “I meant you!”
He didn’t look back. “Just shut the door, Amalie.”
She shut the door, then ran to the window as Sean was getting something from the back of his SUV, then gasped when he walked out into the middle of the street, forcing the driver to stop to keep from hitting him.
She watched the driver get out holding a camera with a long lens attached. He was grinning and talking and in the act of aiming it for a shot when the size and height of the man before him suddenly dawned, and then he saw the look on Sean’s face, and amaybe I’m too closelook crossed his face. The hesitation was his undoing.
Sean’s arm swung up. There was something in his hand! And for a second, Amalie thought he was going to shoot the man. Then he did, but with a swath of yellow spray paint that blasted the camera lens and most of the man’s face.
Amalie gasped. The man was cursing a blue streak and waving his arms when Sean started toward him.
The man backed up, still shouting and cursing, before he realized Sean was now painting something on the hood of his car.
A word.
