The interns were listening intently. Declan smiled for the first time in what felt like months. Rookies were the same anywhere, he supposed; a police force or law office, green was green. He took that opportunity to excuse himself, wanting to talk to Mack.

  Declan walked into Mack’s office, Mack signaling him to take a seat. He was on the phone, speaking heatedly to someone about parental rights waivers, and scrubbed his hand over his face. It wasn’t often that the Hope Cove police department became involved in child services cases, but it did happen occasionally. Those cases were tough to deal with. Declan couldn’t blame Mack for being a bit stressed.

  He waited as patiently as possible for Mack to end the conversation, but felt a bit like he was ready to jump out of his skin. He needed to know where Lucas was, or at least whether he was safe.

  Finally, Mack hung up the phone and let out a deep breath.

  “What can I do for you, Dec?”

  Mack was obviously not in the mood to be bothered. Declan shrank back a little, the desperate fear tamped down by Mack’s obvious annoyance. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to confront him about where Lucas was staying. He decided to take a different approach.

  “I’m sorry to bug you again, Mack, but I need to know…. I just need to know that he’s safe. Reese just told me that Matvey and Corddry are out on bail, and I am freaking out just a little.”

  “I know, Declan, but do you honestly think I would let Lucas go somewhere I didn’t think was safe?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “It’s fine, Declan. He’s fine. I talked to him this morning.”

  “What? You talked—”

  “Yes, and he’s fine,” Mack interrupted him again.

  “Did he—”

  “No. Did you expect him to ask about you?”

  Okay, that was a little harsh. Mack was definitely not in a good mood. Declan decided to cut his losses and end the conversation there. He wasn’t going to make any progress with finding out where Lucas was, especially if Mack was in a shitty mood.

  “I guess not. If you say he’s safe, I believe you.”

  “Good. Now go and do your job. Make sure Matvey doesn’t get off on the charges and we can all sleep a little better.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Declan turned and left the office, rejoining Reese and the interns to parse the case into each tiny detail. They could not overlook anything. Even the simplest detail could mean something significant to the case against Matvey.

  They spent the rest of the day poring over the case files, dissecting each one. By the time the sun had set, Declan was exhausted, but he felt more hopeful than he had all week about the outcome of the trial. The seeds of acceptance were beginning to crack open behind his sternum, which fortified the feeling that he had inadvertently done the right thing.

  Lucas might be angry with him, and yes, he hadn’t gone about it the right way, but the report had to be filed. Matvey belonged behind bars. He deserved what he had coming, and if Declan’s betrayal stopped Lucas or someone else from getting hurt, it was worth the pain he was feeling now.

  Chapter 25

  THE WEATHER was beginning to turn, and the promise of snow hung in the air. Declan rubbed his eyes, willing the computer screen to come back into focus. The desk lamp and computer screen were the only sources of light in the building, but the lights outside the station had come on hours ago, illuminating the street in a pale yellow glow. The inside of the station was quiet, save the whirring of the computer fan beneath Declan’s desk.

  Everyone had gone home, and he was alone in the office. He flipped through the file again, looking at the photos of the crime scene one last time, willing there to be some detail he had overlooked, some shred of evidence that placed Victor and the others at the scene. If Lucas was subpoenaed, his testimony would be powerful, but it was not an open-and-closed case at this point. They needed something more.

  Declan stared at the photographs unnecessarily. He had spent so long looking at them, the images had become embedded in his memory. He could not have erased them if he wanted to.

  There was a scraping sound of metal against metal before the front door burst open, a draft of frigid air bursting through as Scott entered the precinct.

  “You’re still here? Man, do you ever sleep?” he remarked.

  Declan looked up from his computer screen, barely registering that someone was talking to him.

  “Huh?” he asked, his eyes dry and slow to focus.

  “I asked if you ever slept, but I got my answer. You need to go home, dude. You’re looking reasonably haggard. Is there anyone that can cover for you today?” he asked as he walked to the back wall to check the schedule that Mack posted to the bulletin board every two weeks. “You’re not even scheduled to be in today! Seriously, dude. Go home.”

  Declan leaned back in his chair, blinking his eyes a few times to clear the glaze that had developed over them from too many hours staring at a backlit screen. Scott was probably right. He should go home.

  He’d managed to spend as little time as possible in his place over the last month, and it felt like it had done him some good. It was easier to focus on Lucas and the case if he was at work rather than at home, where all he could think about was how much he missed him. He spent all his time trying to detect some wisp of remaining scent on his pillows or trying to avoid remembering the way Lucas felt beneath him when he pressed him into the sofa cushions.

  No, he couldn’t go home, but he should probably take a break from being at the station. He didn’t want to risk Mack pulling him from the case.

  “Okay, I’m heading out. Will you call me if Reese calls?”

  “Sure, man.”

  “Thanks,” he said, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and pulling it on. The skies had been dark since Lucas had left, or at least it felt that way to Declan.

  He walked out of the station, looking left and then right, weighing his options. The diner was warm and close by. Debbie had had her baby, so there was a temporary waitress who had been called in to cover. She didn’t know his order or how he liked his coffee.

  Declan wasn’t all that picky, but he didn’t much feel like interacting with anyone more than he had to. That only left him with one place he would want to be.

  Maggie’s.

  He crossed his fingers, hoping Oliver was working. Haydn would talk his ear off, but Oliver would let him sit in peace with a cup of coffee and one of their insanely delicious cinnamon buns. The combination of the caffeine and the sugar was deadly, but just what he needed.

  Declan crossed the square, bleary eyes focusing on the dark-blue awning. By the time he reached the front door, he was shivering inside his coat. His fingers were frozen, and his teeth were chattering. He pulled open the door and stepped into the warmth of the bakery. The smell of bread and herbs surrounded him, filling him with feelings of warmth and calm.

  “Wow, you look like shit.”

  So, Oliver wasn’t working today. “Hey, Haydn.”

  “What is wrong with this town? Between you and Oliver, you won’t be winning any fucking beauty contests. Jesus fuck, Declan. You look like dogshit roadkill.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Declan muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s wrong with Oliver?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me. Something weird with him and Mack. Don’t know much, but whatever it is, he isn’t sleeping much.”

  “Are they fighting?”

  “No, I don’t think so. He’s in here all the time and they have hushed little super-secret conversations in the back. Doesn’t seem like a fight, but whatever it is, it’s fucking with his head.”

  Haydn turned, pulling the coffee pot from the machine behind the counter. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Haydn pulled out the biggest coffee cup he could find and filled it to the brim. “You wanna talk about it?”

  “Same shit. You know.”

  “Ah yes. Love. Beats the shit out of you, and then it’s over.”

  “Something like that.”

  “That’s why I’ve sworn off love. Forever. Not doing it. Never done it before, not gonna start now. Better to have loved and lost and all that bullshit? I don’t think so. Fuck it. It’s not for me. Gimme a hot man, one sweaty night, and I’m a happy boy.”

  Declan just shrugged, too exhausted to argue with Haydn. He was broken now, but held out hope that he could get Lucas back. He wouldn’t give up the memories he had with the man for anything in the world, no matter how much it hurt.

  He gulped down the thick coffee, reveling in the feeling of the warmth traveling through his chest. It was the first time he had felt truly warm in days. He knew it wouldn’t last, but he wanted to enjoy it while he could. Wrapping both hands around it, Declan held the mug close to his body.

  “Whatever’s going on, Oliver has been a grump, all dark and moody. Has Mack been a total ass hat lately too?” Haydn asked.

  Declan thought about it. He hadn’t really noticed anything outside of his little bubble for a while. He tried to remember if Mack’s behavior had been odd. He did remember Mack being a bit short with him when Reese was there, but that couldn’t have been anything more than work stress. Then he remembered Mack saying something about personal issues.

  He hadn’t checked in with him for a while. Declan had been so wrapped up in his own stuff that he hadn’t bothered to talk to his friends about anything. The guilt weighed heavy on him.

  “A little maybe. I might head over there and see how they’re doing. Is Oliver at home today?”

  “Yeah, I told him not to come in. There’s only so much of his dark circles and saggy fucking skin I can take before I get truly bitchy on his ass. I met my limit yesterday.”

  “Maybe I’ll head over there now. Do you have a to-go cup I could grab?” He wanted to see what was going on with his friends, but he wasn’t stupid enough to leave the caffeine behind.

  “You bet.” Haydn bent and retrieved a bright-red cup from behind the counter and handed it to Declan. “Good luck over there. Might be a little bit like the perfect storm gathering around their house.”

  “I’ll take my chances. Thanks for the coffee,” he said as he got up and walked to the door.

  “You’re welcome. See ya, Dec.”

  “Bye, Haydn,” he said, pulling open the heavy wooden door and walking back out into the cold.

  MACK AND Oliver’s house wasn’t far from Maggie’s shop. Up a couple of blocks past the market and then a couple more blocks of residential before he was walking up the gravel driveway. He could hear Rigsby barking through the door, and as he got closer, he realized the dog’s barking was eclipsed by the sound of a child screaming. Bizarre.

  He knocked, but when there was no answer, he opened the door and went inside. There was no way anyone would be able to hear him knocking over the crying.

  He toed off his boots, left them by the door, and walked through the house toward the sound. He found Mack and Oliver, looking completely frazzled, staring at a baby in a bassinet in the middle of the living room.

  “Uh, hi guys. Sorry to barge in like this, but no one was answering the door. What’s going on?” Declan asked.

  “Oh my God, Declan. She won’t stop crying. She just cries all the time. I don’t know what to do with her,” Oliver said, his eyes wild. They were red and swollen. On the whole, Declan was willing to bet Oliver looked worse than he did, and that was quite a feat.

  Mack just stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

  “Is she hungry? Wet?”

  “No, I don’t think so…. I don’t know… she just cries and cries. We’ve changed her, and tried to give her a bottle, but she just turns her head and she won’t eat. She won’t fucking eat, Declan.” Oliver was on the verge of losing it. Lack of sleep and constant worry about the tiny little person wailing away in front of him had frayed his nerves.

  Declan walked over to the little bed and looked down at the screaming infant. Her cries were hoarse, as though she’d been at it for hours. If the way the guys looked was anything to go by, she’d been at it for days.

  “How old is she?” Declan asked.

  “Six days,” Mack replied, finally finding his voice.

  “You got a blanket?” Declan asked. Oliver handed him a soft cotton blanket, dotted with pink ladybugs.

  Declan spread the blanket out on the couch in a triangle shape, then leaned over the bassinet, picking up the baby, carefully supporting her head. He placed the baby on the blanket and folded the bottom corner up over her feet before folding the sides securely around her tiny body.

  He lay down on the couch, gently laying her on his chest, her head resting over his heart. He rubbed the top of her head gently and breathed in and out slowly. It took a few minutes, but eventually she quieted down and closed her eyes to sleep.

  “Holy fuck,” Oliver hissed, too scared to use his full voice. “How did you do that?”

  “My sister had a baby when she was nineteen. I helped to take care of him for a while before I went away to school. This used to be the only thing that would quiet him down when he cried. The swaddling makes her feel like she’s back in the womb, and if she can hear your heartbeat, it’s comforting for her.”

  “I could kiss you,” Oliver said, dropping down next to Declan to get a closer look at the sleeping baby. Mack shot him a dirty look.

  “So you wanna tell how this all came to be?” Declan said, gesturing between the baby and the agitated men.

  “It’s why I’ve been so distracted at work,” Mack said. “You know Sandra Crowdon?”

  Understanding dawned over Declan. “This is her baby?”

  Sandra Crowdon was a sixteen-year-old girl who had gotten pregnant the year before. When the news had first hit the Gossiping Ladies News Network, it had been quite the scandal, but once the shock had worn off, people went back to their lives and mostly disregarded Sandra’s condition. She had been tight-lipped about her plans once she gave birth, but no one had pressed her too hard for answers. She was a good girl who had made a mistake, and no one in Hope Cove doubted that she would make a smart decision when it came to her child.

  “Was her baby,” Oliver said proudly, “and now she’s our baby.”

  Mack smiled then, the grin lighting up his whole face. Declan looked back to Oliver who was sporting a similar expression. Declan had never seen them so happy. Even after Oliver had come back last year, Mack hadn’t looked this all-embracingly, beamingly joyful.

  “Mack was called into the hospital in Ellsworth last week just after she was born,” Oliver said.

  “Sandra called me and asked me to go. She told me that she’d been thinking about who she wanted to raise the baby and the two people she felt loved each other more than anyone else she knew were Oliver and me. She asked me if I wanted to be a daddy. She handed her to me, and as soon as I held her in my arms, I knew that she was ours. Giving her back to Sandra was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I needed to talk to Oliver before I said yes.”

  “When he came home that day and asked me if I wanted kids, I didn’t think he meant right that minute, but he dragged me out to the car, and we drove to Ellsworth. One look at her and I was in love,” Oliver said.

  Declan could feel the love radiating from the two proud parents. “You wanna hold her?” he asked, looking between the two of them.

  “No, no. She’s so happy and peaceful where she is. I don’t wanna wake her up,” Oliver said.

  “You won’t. Here,” Declan said, leaning forward slightly, shifting the sleeping bundle to a position where he could hand her off to her proud daddy. Oliver held out his arms, a look of terror on his face.

  “She’s out, man. It’ll be fine.”

  Declan transferred her to Oliver’s arms, grinning as Oliver heaved a sigh of relief when she didn’t wake up.

  “Does she have a name?” Declan asked.

  “Margaret…. Maggie,” Mack replied. Declan smiled again. It was perfect that they named their daughter after her.

  “That’s perfect, Mack.”

  “We thought so.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help you guys? I remember the first few months when Jess brought Dylan home. No one got any sleep; we lived off of fast food and were basically zombies all the time.”

  Oliver visibly cringed at the mention of fast food as he glanced over at Mack, a silent conversation taking place between them.

  “What?” Declan asked.

  “Nothing,” Mack grunted.

  “Mack,” Oliver said, his voice low with admonishment.

  “Fine—” Mack redirected his attention to Declan. “—I need you to do one thing for me.”

  “Anything,” Declan promised.

  “It’s about the case. The DA wants Lucas brought in to her office to begin prepping for the trial. She’ll need to prep you too, but she wanted more time with Lucas. I need you to go pick him up and take him to the office in Bangor to work with Reese on Thursday.”

  Declan stayed quiet, the information filtering through his brain and sending an influx of neurochemicals surging through him. He was elated and terrified all at the same time. It had been weeks since he had seen Lucas, and he had been falling apart without him. The prospect of seeing him again was a huge relief. He wanted to weep with it.

  The unknown of what Lucas’s reaction would be was distressing. If Lucas had the same reaction as the last time he had seen him, Declan would be devastated. The possibility that Lucas had had a chance to cool down and might be able to forgive him filled him with hope. There was only one way to know and so there was only one answer for Mack.

  “Of course. Give me the details, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Lucas is staying at a safe house in the city.”

  “A safe—”

  “I arranged it after the arrests were made. I wanted to keep him safe, and I knew he couldn’t stay in Hope Cove. You both needed some time and space to get your heads on straight.”