Father, please help me lean on you and see the good from this awful tragedy.

  She tried to expound on her statement but nothing came. Okay, fine. Not much of a prayer, but a start. She was so out of the habit that she didn’t even know if it would work. But just reaching out to God and the chance at hope that life might get better helped ease her distress. Nothing seemed earth-shatteringly different, but a smidgen less pain gripped her soul.

  She opened her eyes to find Hannah watching her intently.

  Maggie searched for anything to say to take the focus from herself. “Mia seems like a happy girl.”

  “She is. For the most part, anyway, but she has her challenges. She was in the car accident that killed her mother. Mia suffered a brain injury and has residual effects like her halting gait.”

  Ah, that explained it.

  “And she’s painfully shy. It took some time for her to warm up to me, but now I couldn’t imagine life without her.”

  Maggie nodded. She couldn’t imagine life without Alison either, but she lived it for the last six years. Maybe today was the day that she could turn a corner and could once again imagine her future, too. Maybe.

  Jackson was surprised at the You Can Do It building. It was about the size of a large gymnasium with concrete floors and block walls, but the lobby was professional with a long reception desk and small sitting area with black leather furniture. The sound of machinery hummed in the distance, and Jackson could easily imagine men or women working on the industrial equipment.

  He approached the older woman behind the desk. Her salt and pepper hair was curled like a cap on her head, and she wore reading glasses with a long chain hanging around her neck.

  Jackson smiled at her but got a blank stare in return. She glanced at Maggie, seeming unimpressed with what she saw, and turned her focus back to him. “Help you?”

  “Is your owner or manager in?” Jackson asked.

  “Not if you’re selling something, he’s not.”

  Jackson widened his smile, but it had no impact on the woman. “I promise I only want to ask him a few questions about the business.”

  “You law enforcement?”

  “No, why would you ask?”

  “They come in here sometimes wanting to know what people are making. Harry tells them to show him a warrant or take a hike.”

  “Harry sounds like an interesting guy. Can’t wait to meet him.” Jackson held his breath and hoped she would decide to get on the phone to her boss.

  She picked up a microphone. “Harry, you’re needed at the front desk.”

  Her voice came over loudspeakers, and soon, a man with a large belly, short legs, and a shiny head entered the lobby from a door in the back.

  He ran his gaze over Jackson, a scowl following. “You with the cops?”

  Jackson shook his head and gave him one of his business cards. “Could we have a word in private?”

  He eyed Jackson, and it looked like he was going to say no.

  Maggie stepped closer and introduced herself. “It would mean so much if we could have just a minute of your time.”

  He let his wandering gaze rove over Maggie, and when a captivated look crossed his face, Jackson wanted to deck the guy. Maggie, on the other hand, stood there without so much as blanching.

  “My office is this way.” He spun, his black work shoes squeaking on the polished concrete.

  Maggie shuddered.

  “Sorry he’s such a creep,” Jackson whispered.

  “That’s okay. Hopefully I can use it to our advantage.”

  Jackson didn’t want her to put herself in an uncomfortable position, but he did appreciate her willingness to help.

  By the time they got to Harry’s office, he was standing behind a desk way too large for the small space. Somehow, he also managed to cram a credenza and three chairs in the minuscule office. Every flat surface held mounds of paperwork.

  “’Scuse the mess. Agnes doesn’t like to file.” He cleared two chairs, putting the folders in a precarious position on the credenza. He dropped behind the desk and sank so low he looked child-sized. “Now what’s this about?”

  “One of your customers, Scott Dawson,” Jackson said as he took a seat. “He was murdered, and my company was hired to find the killer.”

  “Killed!” Harry snapped his chair forward. “Man, that’s rough. He was just a kid.”

  “He was one of my students,” Maggie said.

  “You’re a teacher, huh?”

  “Assistant Professor of Anthropology.”

  “If they’d made ’em like you back when I was his age, I’da gone to college for sure.” He winked at Maggie.

  Jackson had to give her credit when she didn’t wince at the comment but offered a tight smile. “We were hoping you might help us figure out who killed Scott.”

  Harry leaned his chair back again and raised pudgy arms over his head. “Don’t know how I can help with that. He came here to use our CNC machine to fabricate gun parts and had us ship them to him. That’s all I know, and I suspect you know that, too, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “What’s a CNC machine?” Maggie asked.

  “Stands for Computer Numerical Control. In a nutshell, someone brings in their own computer software, plugs it into the machine, and it does all the work to manufacture their object. You don’t have to have any skills to operate the equipment. Our only rule for gun makers is they can’t assemble firearms in the building. Which Scott didn’t do. Like I said, he had us ship the pieces.”

  “Isn’t that odd that he wanted such small parts shipped when he could easily have taken them with him?” Jackson asked.

  Harry turned his attention to Jackson, seeming disappointed that he remained in the room. “Kind of odd, yeah, but his partner paid us a generous fee for the shipping so I didn’t ask questions.”

  “He had a partner?” Excitement coursed through Jackson’s body at the new lead, but he resisted sitting forward and letting Harry know this was an important fact.

  “Yeah, an older guy.”

  “Do you have contact information for him?”

  Harry crossed his arms. “I do, but I’m not going to give it to you.”

  “Please, Harry.” Maggie leaned closer to the desk and rested her hands on a stack of folders. “This could help us find his killer.”

  “Maybe but…” He shrugged.

  “The killer is coming after me.” She untied the scarf around her neck and pointed at the angry purple bruises from the attack. “He tried to strangle me. And he shot at me. Maybe with one of these guns.”

  “Now that just plain makes me mad. A pretty little thing like you doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment. You should be cherished.” He snapped forward. “At least I’d cherish you.”

  Jackson nearly hurled, but Maggie nodded. “I can tell a sweet guy like you knows how to treat women.”

  He suddenly jerked back, pulled open a file cabinet, and ran his fingers over folders. He slapped one on the desk and drew out a form to give to Maggie. “This’s the partner’s address. Lyle Vetter. He lives on a boat he rents at a local marina.”

  Jackson took out his phone and recorded the address before Harry changed his mind and snatched the folder away.

  “Thank you,” Maggie said. “Tell me. Did this Vetter guy seem like he might be capable of murder?”

  Harry shrugged. “All I know is of the two guys, he seemed to be the one in charge.”

  “Did he ever mention his job?” Jackson asked.

  “Works in the computer field. Not sure of the actual job, but he was the one who always programmed the CNC machine, and he told me he worked with computers.”

  So he was skilled with computers. Meant he could have hacked Maggie’s car. “Ever hear him talking about computers in cars?”

  “Nah. It’s not like I hang out with these people, you know. I have a business to run.”

  “Did the pair ever expand beyond handguns to rifles?” Jackson asked.

  Harry shook his head. “Nah, don’t have many people running rifle receivers here.”

  Jackson didn’t much like Harry’s nonchalant attitude about manufacturing guns. “Here’s the thing I don’t get, Harry. How can you let these guys make these guns? You know they’re up to no good.”

  Harry crossed his arms. “If they didn’t make them here, they’d make them somewhere else.”

  “Not really a very good answer,” Jackson grumbled, but it looked like he’d gotten everything he could from Harry, so he stood. “I appreciate the information.”

  “Didn’t do it for you.” Harry scowled at him as if he just realized by sharing the name and address with Maggie, it meant he also gave it to Jackson.

  Maggie dug her business card from her purse and laid it on the desk. She stood. “If you think of anything else that might help, I’d appreciate if you’d give me a call.”

  “Will do.” He grinned at her, a knowing look on his face. “And I’ll look you up next time I’m in your neck of the woods, too.”

  Jackson expected Maggie to turn green, throw up, or run away at the thought of it, but she nodded and calmly exited the office. Jackson followed her through the lobby and outside.

  She hurried toward his truck, the wind whipping her hair around her face. At the passenger door, she turned, and gave an exaggerated shudder. “I need a shower. Maybe a soak in some disinfectant.”

  Jackson faced her. “I don’t like that you gave him your business card.”

  “It only has my office number, not my cell.”

  He unlocked the door for her. “I still don’t like a lecherous guy like Harry even knowing your name, much less where you work.”

  She turned to look at him. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.”

  He leaned against the doorframe and held her gaze. “You haven’t changed. You take things like this in stride and move on when I always want to do something about it.”

  “You know why you do that, don’t you?”

  “No,” he said, wondering what she might say.

  She swiveled to face him. “Because your biggest fear has always been that you’ll let someone down. I don’t pretend to know where that comes from, but it’s there.”

  “You’re way off base here.”

  “How’s that?”

  “If my not being there for people is my biggest fear, how could I walk out on you the day you told me you were pregnant with Alison? And leave you for good?”

  The wince he expected to see with Harry materialized now. “I can’t explain that, but you came back and you were there for me at the hospital. At least the first few days.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But I should’ve stayed with you, and I bailed. Makes me a first-class jerk in my book.”

  She took his hand and clutched it tightly. “We were young. We both made mistakes.”

  She stared over his shoulder, a faraway look in her eyes and sad resignation on her face. He waited for her to speak, but she didn’t.

  “Maggie,” he said to gain her attention again. “What’re you thinking about?”

  “Alison. Being with you has brought her death back to the surface, and I feel like it was just yesterday. That day in the hospital keeps replaying in my mind.” She looked down at their hands and sorrowfully shook her head. “I can still feel her in my arms. Her little body so fragile and lifeless. Her tiny hand in mine. It was…”

  Her voiced tapered off on a sob, and she looked up at him, her eyes awash with tears. “I was so desperate for more time with her. I’d barely met her in person, and I didn’t want to let her go.”

  “I know, honey,” he said, unable to come up with anything else.

  He’d held his precious little girl, too. Once. Only once. For an hour. Then they’d taken her, and Maggie crumpled to the floor. He picked her up and held her instead, but she pushed from his arms, crawled into the hospital bed in a fetal position, and told him to leave.

  His heart died twice that day.

  “Why did she have to die?” She let go of his hand and doubled over as if the pain was too intense to stand upright.

  And it was for him, too. Or at least it had been back then. Now it wasn’t at quite the same level, but still an aching reality for both of them. He helped Maggie to her feet and drew her into his arms. He held her. Tightly. Close to his heart. Feeling the same awful, terrible despair.

  “I just can’t understand any of it,” Maggie said. “Her life was so short. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever faced.”

  He felt tears of his own begging for release. “Even though she’s gone, I’m convinced we’ll see her again someday. We can hold her then. See her smile. Giggle. Laugh. And our hearts will be filled with joy.”

  He could imagine his daughter’s precious face, looking up at him. Filling his soul with the joy that had been missing since that day in the hospital. That day he’d gone home empty-handed, his heart empty as well.

  Maggie pulled back, her watery gaze connecting with his. “Will we? Will I—after I’ve doubted God for so long?”

  “Of course, you will. You may have doubted God’s love, but you still believe in Jesus, right? That’s all that matters in eternity.”

  She gave a resigned nod and laid her head against his chest. He stroked her back, felt his tears abate and soothing peace temper his anguish.

  “It wasn’t more than a few hours ago that I was convinced I understood this and knew how to deal with it. But look at me now.” She lifted her head and shook it. “I’m a mess. and I don’t know what I think anymore.”

  “Hey,” he said. “You’ll figure it out. Maybe I will, too, someday.”

  She blinked several times. “It was you, wasn’t it? The person who puts the daisies on her grave every year on the anniversary of her death.”

  “Yes.”

  She looked up at him. “I’m surprised we never ran into each other.”

  “I came at sunup so you wouldn’t have to see me.”

  “That was kind of you, Jackson. So sweet.” She sighed. “But now that we’ve reconnected, I wish I’d seen you sooner. Maybe I could’ve shared my grief with someone who knew what it felt like.”

  “Did you ever try a grief support group?”

  “Yeah, and it helped. I mean, the people understood, but you’re different. You were there that day. You were Alison’s father. Seems like we really should have stayed together. It would have been better.”

  He didn’t know if that was true, but he did know he thanked God for this moment with her and would cherish it as much as he cherished the memory of Alison’s sweet little face.

  13

  Maggie waited for Jackson to hang up from his call with Eryn. He’d instructed her to run a background check on Lyle Vetter while they’d waited in the truck. If it turned out he wasn’t dangerous, they could head over to his boat slip. But after their talk, tension filled the truck and Jackson climbed out to pace. He walked back and forth for nearly an hour. Maggie wanted to go to him, but she knew he needed space to think about what had just transpired between them.

  He jerked open the door and slid behind the wheel. “Vetter’s a computer engineer at a local company.”

  “Just like Harry said.”

  Jackson nodded. “And he doesn’t have any red flags in his past. He’s never been arrested. Doesn’t have even a hint of anything illegal in his life and nothing to say he’s into guns either.”

  “What do you make of that?”

  “It’s a bit odd, but then the guy doesn’t have to like guns or even shoot them to sell them.” He cranked the engine. “He’s a low enough threat that we’re good to talk to him.”

  Jackson got them on the road, and Maggie leaned her head back against the seat. She was emotionally wrung out, but she felt better after crying in the parking lot. Her mind was clearer than it’d been in a long time. Maybe she’d just needed to share the loss with Jackson.

  She would never get over losing Alison just like Hannah had said. But Maggie was tired of rehashing the way the past played out and wondering how it could be different. It all ended the same way. It couldn’t be different. Alison was gone, and nothing Maggie or Jackson could do would ever, ever bring the precious child back. Not wondering if she was at fault. If Jackson was at fault. If she and Jackson should have stayed together. None of it changed the cold hard fact that Alison died, and the sooner Maggie accepted that, the better her life would be.

  She glanced at Jackson, sad to see his clenched jaw. Here she was thinking of finally moving forward, and she didn’t get the same vibe from him. But then he didn’t hear Hannah’s take on things, which helped Maggie immensely. There was still time before reaching the boat slip for Maggie to tell him about Hannah’s wisdom.

  She shifted on the cracked vinyl seat to look at him. “I had an interesting conversation with Hannah in the kitchen this morning.”

  “Oh.”

  He didn’t even ask for details. Maybe he knew the direction she was heading, and he was too wrung out to talk about it.

  She couldn’t let that deter her. “We were talking about our pasts.”

  He shot her a look. “You told her about Alison?”

  She held up her hands. “No. You asked me not to, but she’s very intuitive, and she could tell there was something tragic in my past that I wasn’t willing to talk about.”

  “Yeah, I should’ve told you about that. She’s always after us guys to open up about our feelings.” Jackson rolled his eyes. “She thinks we all have issues from our time in the service and says if we talk about it, it won’t hold us hostage.”

  Not somewhere Maggie expected this conversation to go. “Do you have issues with that?”

  He shook his head. “I saw things. Things I’ll never forget and wish I could. But nah, I’m good. Not like some guys I served with.”

  “I’m glad about that.” She placed her hand over his where it rested on the gearshift. He shot her a look, but she didn’t remove her hand. “You already have the bum knee and you lost Alison. You don’t deserve other issues to deal with.”