Read Deklan Page 20


  “Say hi to Mrs. K for me.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I listen to the door open and close again. Deklan lets out a sigh, and I quickly scuttle back to the bed. I draw the sheets up to my chin just before he comes back in the room.

  “Everything okay?” I ask as Deklan crawls in beside me.

  “Yeah, babe. All’s good.”

  “Was that Brian?”

  “Yeah. He says hi.”

  “He sounded upset. Is the car okay?”

  “It’s fine,” Deklan says as he leans over and kisses my cheek. “He just needed a little advice. Woman shit, you know?”

  “Right.”

  “Go back to sleep,” Deklan says. “I’ll be right here with you. When you’re up for it, we’ll go out for a nice dinner. I still owe you that.”

  Chapter 25

  “Come on, babe. It’s time to wake up.”

  I feel Deklan’s warm mouth on my throat as he softly shakes me awake. I’m still groggy as he pulls me to a seated position.

  “You’ve slept all day, babe,” Deklan informs me. “You also barely ate yesterday, so I’m going to make sure you have a proper dinner. Besides, I promised you a night out for your birthday.”

  “Hmm?” I rub my eyes and try to focus.

  “Dinner. Out. You. Me. Get yourself ready.”

  Birthday dinner.

  Slowly, everything starts coming back to me, and it feels as if someone has put anvils on my shoulders. It has been almost three days since Kathy was killed. I’ve napped constantly, and I still feel this way every time I wake up. I glance up at Dek, and he smiles gently and runs his hand over my cheek.

  “It will help keep your mind off things for a little while,” he says. “I’m going to insist, so please don’t argue with me. Just do whatever you need to do to get ready. No need to dress up; this place is casual.”

  “What place?” I push myself out of bed and grab some clean clothes from the closet.

  “A nice little steakhouse I’ve heard about but never tried. It’s supposed to be great.”

  Deklan walks out of the bedroom as I head into the bathroom. I take a quick shower, fix my hair, and put on some makeup, hoping Deklan was serious about the place being casual. I’m not up for a dress and heels.

  When I come out of the bathroom, Deklan is sitting on the couch and making a phone call.

  “Yes, I’d like to report a theft.” There’s a pause for a moment before Deklan continues. “My Beretta appears to have been stolen. Yes, ma’am, that kind of Beretta. Well, the car was parked with the valet at the Hyatt, and I assume they keep everything locked up. I honestly don’t know when it might have happened. I just noticed a little while ago that it was missing. I kinda assume someone broke in over the weekend. Yes, ma’am, it is.”

  I stare at Deklan open-mouthed as he gives all his personal information to the woman on the phone.

  “I don’t know off the top of my head, but I should have it in my files somewhere. Would it be all right if I brought that by the station in the next day or two? Oh yeah? Well, I guess it makes sense you would have access to that. Yes, ma’am. That would be great. Just let me know if you find it.”

  Deklan hangs up and smiles at me.

  “What was all that about?”

  “Nothing.” He stands and walks over to me. “You’re gorgeous, you know. Even in jeans and a T-shirt.”

  “Were you talking to the police? What was taken from the car?”

  “Nothing too important,” he says. “Just don’t worry about it, okay?”

  “Deklan, what the hell is going on?”

  “Have you ever heard the expression that the best lie is one anchored in the truth?”

  “I suppose so. Something like that anyway.”

  “Well, just know that if anyone asks you about our evening, you can be one hundred percent truthful, okay?”

  “Who would ask?”

  Deklan responds with a shrug. He’s obviously not going to tell me anything, so I don’t bother to ask again.

  “Are you ready?” he asks as he checks his watch. He grabs my coat from the hook near the door and holds it out for me.

  “I really don’t need a birthday dinner at this point.” I let him put the coat around my shoulders. I know arguing with him is useless, and he doesn’t even reply to my comment.

  He leads me to the parking garage and helps me into the car. It’s a bit of a drive to the restaurant, and Deklan checks his watch at least five times along the way. I want to ask him about it, but he keeps me occupied with chatter about the weather, traffic, and basketball scores. In fact, he talks so much, I can hardly get a word in.

  It’s probably best. I’m more in a mood for listening than talking.

  “It will be about thirty minutes before I can seat you, Mr. Kearney,” the hostess says when we arrive at the restaurant. “Would you like to have a seat at the bar while you wait?”

  “That would be perfect,” Deklan says as he glances at his watch again.

  Deklan places his hand on the small of my back and leads me to the middle of the bar. There are several seats at the end, but he goes straight for the two seats surrounded by other patrons.

  “Are these seats taken?” he asks the couple next to us.

  “Not at all,” the man says. “Please.”

  Deklan shakes his hand and thanks him profusely. It’s over the top, and I narrow my eyes at my husband as he pulls my seat out for me.

  “It’s the wife’s birthday,” he says to the man as he points at me. “I’m hoping the steaks here live up to their reputation!”

  “They’re wonderful,” the man says. He looks at me and smiles. “Happy birthday!”

  “Thank you.”

  The bartender comes over, wiping his hands with a bar towel.

  “My name is Keith,” he says. “What can I get you?”

  “Good to meet you, Keith!” Again, Deklan is overly friendly. “I’m Deklan, and I’d love a bourbon. What would you like, Kera?”

  He smiles at me as I quietly order a glass of wine. When the bartender comes back with our drinks, Deklan places a hundred dollar bill on the bar and tells him to keep the change.

  “Thank you very much, sir! Let me know if there’s anything else I can get you!”

  “That was generous,” I say after the bartender walks away.

  “I like to get to know my bartenders,” Deklan says quietly. “Big tippers are remembered. That way, I always get good service.”

  I’m not buying his explanation even though it’s a reasonable one.

  Once we are seated in the dining room, Deklan introduces himself to the server, Rachel, and tells her it’s my birthday. She congratulates me and promises to bring out a cake after we eat. When she leaves with our orders, I glare at Deklan but say nothing.

  When dinner is delivered, I have to admit that the steaks are fabulous, and I am far hungrier than I thought I would be. Deklan seems very pleased with himself and even tells the people at the next table that it’s my birthday. They sing along when the cake is brought out.

  “Embarrassed?” Deklan asks as he leads me back to the car. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

  “Confused.” I narrow my eyes at him. I don’t understand whatever game he’s playing. He is obviously up to something, but I can’t fathom what it might be.

  “I’m sorry about all that.” He chuckles softly, negating the apology. “I just wanted to, you know, keep you occupied.”

  “I realize that.” I have the distinct feeling that there is more to this little outing than Deklan is telling me, but I don’t let on. It was a nice dinner.

  “How about a movie?”

  I let out a sigh. I’m tired, and I’d rather just go back home and go to bed, but Deklan is insistent. I’m not even sure of the movie title when we walk into the huge theatre with large sodas and popcorn.

  As soon as the previews start, Deklan spills the popcorn all over the guy next to him.

  “What the f
uck?” The guy stands up and popcorn flies everywhere.

  “Dude!” Deklan jumps up as well. “I am so sorry. Totally my bad. Here”—Deklan pulls a card from his pocket—“this is my card. Give me a call tomorrow, and I’ll pay for your cleaning. Hell, I’ll buy you a whole new outfit. It was completely my fault.”

  I shake my head as Deklan sits back down. He does seem to have placated the man beside him, who grumbles as he shoves Deklan’s card in his wallet.

  “What does the card say on it?” I ask quietly.

  “Deklan Kearney and a phone number.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep.”

  “Whose number?”

  “Mine.”

  “For the phone you never have turned on?”

  “It’s on now.”

  I shake my head, thoroughly confused. As the movie plays, I keep looking over toward my husband, but he just stares at the screen with an odd, distant look on his face. Every so often, he looks down at his watch.

  It’s late when we finally get home, and I’m exhausted. For the first time since our wedding night, I’m hoping Deklan will let me just go to sleep without any hanky-panky beforehand. I’m about to say as much as I hang up my coat, but he’s disappeared into the bedroom already.

  When I join him, he’s already stripped down to his boxer briefs. Strangely enough, he also has laid out a pair of pajamas he bought for me on our first shopping trip, though I’ve never worn them.

  Since the very first night we were together, we’ve always slept naked.

  “Why are those out?” I ask.

  Without a word, Deklan comes over and starts helping me out of my clothes and into the PJs.

  “Deklan, what has gotten into you?”

  “Nothing,” he says. He doesn’t keep eye contact with me.

  “I’ve never worn those,” I say, as if he’s forgotten.

  “You’re tired,” he says, “and I want you to be warm and get a good night’s sleep. You need it.”

  He pulls the pajama shirt over my head.

  “You always keep me warm.” I raise an eyebrow at him, and he smiles but still doesn’t look me in the eye.

  “Why are you acting so weird?”

  “Weird?”

  “Yes, weird.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You most certainly are.” I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. “What is up with you?”

  For a brief second, frustrated anger crosses his face, but he quickly reins it in.

  “I’m just…not so good at the whole birthday thing,” he finally says.

  I stare at him and he stares at the floor. Is that why he’s been acting so strange? Because of my birthday?

  “Dinner was great,” I say quietly. “The cake was a bit much, but it was nice.”

  “Was it?” Deklan turns his back to me and starts rummaging through one of his dresser drawers.

  “Yes.” I sit down on the edge of the bed. When I look back at Deklan, he’s staring at the floor with his hands behind his back and a weird expression on his face.

  “Kera?” Deklan tilts his head sideways and looks at me.

  “Yes?”

  Deklan glances down at the floor again and then back up to me.

  “What is it?”

  “I have something for you.” He brings his hand from behind his back and holds out a small box wrapped in silver paper and a light blue bow. “I know it’s late, but I’ve been trying to figure out a good time to give it to you.”

  I recognize the box as one from an expensive jewelry store and wonder what Deklan might have picked out for me. I take it from his hand and slowly open the box, revealing a silver medallion on a chain. In the center of the piece is a raised figure of a man with a staff and a halo around his head. A small shamrock decorates the bottom.

  “It’s Saint Patrick,” Deklan says. “He built the first Irish church.”

  “It’s beautiful.” I turn the medallion over and read the inscription. “‘Christ in hearts of all that love me.’”

  “Like I do.”

  Deklan’s words are so soft, I barely hear them. I definitely don’t infer his meaning.

  “Like you do what?” I ask as I rub my finger over the metal.

  “Like I love you.”

  I stop fingering the metal and look up.

  Deklan is standing near the edge of the bed, running the palms of his hands over his thighs like he’s looking for pockets in his underwear.

  Did he just say what I think he said?

  He stops moving his hands and looks away from me. The light in the bedroom is dim, but I think his cheeks are a little red.

  “When all this started…when you first…” Deklan stops and takes a long breath. “When we were first married, I hoped maybe…maybe we’d at least like each other, but I didn’t dare think…or hope…Fuck! I suck at this.”

  He turns away and closes his eyes.

  “No, you don’t,” I say softly. My heart is pounding hard enough I can feel it in my ears. I watch as Deklan slowly looks back at me.

  “I love you, Kera,” he says again. “I don’t know how or when it happened, but I do. I just thought I should tell you that.”

  I stare up into his eyes, and I can feel his words dive deep down inside of me. They twist around my heart and through my body, entangling my insides with their meaning. The words hold me close, and I feel utterly and completely safe.

  I blink a few times before I find my feet and manage to stand. I take two steps forward and reach up to lock my fingers behind Deklan’s neck.

  “I don’t know how or when either,” I say as a tear slips down my cheek, “but I love you, too.”

  Deklan closes his eyes and lets out a long, sharp breath as he pulls me to him. He hugs me so tightly, I can hardly breathe, but I don’t tell him to stop. Instead, I try to hug him just as tightly. We stand silent for a moment before Deklan pulls back and kisses me, molding our mouths together as he whispers the words against my lips.

  “I love you. I love you.”

  “I love you,” I reply over and over again, entrusting the words to my lips as I commit the deeper meaning in my head and heart.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Deklan whispers. He pulls back. “How did this happen?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m glad.”

  Deklan grins and reaches for the medallion. I turn so he can clasp it around my neck and then hold it out so I can see it. I turn it over, trying to read the words upside down.

  “I want you so bad right now,” Deklan says.

  “I’m not stopping you.”

  “No.” Deklan shakes his head slowly. “I meant what I said about you needing sleep.”

  Contradicting his own words, he picks me up and carries me to the bed. He climbs in beside me and holds me against his chest.

  “The next time I take you to this bed,” he says, “I’m going to make love to you like we never have before. I swear it, Kera.”

  “You won’t have to take me very far,” I say with a grin. “I’ll be right here in the morning.”

  Deklan glances away from me, focusing for a second on the wall clock.

  “Sleep now,” he says softly. “I love you, my wife.”

  Chapter 26

  At four in the morning, I’m awakened by pounding at the door. It’s so loud, I startle awake with a jerk and a slight scream. I quickly cover with my mouth.

  “Wait here,” Deklan says, but before he can even get out of the bed, the door bursts open, and uniformed police officers invade the apartment.

  They file in with guns drawn, screaming commands about keeping our hands up and not moving. Detective Warren, the man who questioned me at the hospital, is in the lead.

  “What the fuck, Warren?” Deklan yells as he jumps up with his hands raised. “You better have a fucking warrant!”

  “I certainly do, Kearney,” Detective Warren says. “This one is for your arrest.”

  “What is going on?” I cry as two officers grab De
klan’s arms and pull them behind him, but no one pays any attention to me.

  “For what?” Deklan glares at the officers but doesn’t resist as they place him in handcuffs.

  “The murder of Michael Hardy.”

  “Who the fuck is that?” Deklan asks.

  “You probably know him better as Crackers.”

  “Can’t say that I do.”

  “Crackers, the pimp,” Warren says.

  “Someone pops a lowlife pimp, and you think it’s me?” Deklan laughs.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I’m married, asshole. I don’t need a hooker.”

  “Yeah, but you’d still kill a pimp if your boss told you to,” Warren says as he holds up the warrant for Deklan to read.

  “I was with my wife all night, boys,” Deklan says after glancing at the paper. “You aren’t pinning this on me.”

  “Sure you were.” The cop sneers and tightens the cuffs around Deklan’s wrists until he grimaces.

  “Do you mind if I put on my fucking pants first?” Deklan nods toward a pair of sweatpants neatly folded on the top of the dresser. “It’s kinda cold out there.”

  “You got sloppy, Kearney,” Warren says. He nods at one of the cops to grab the sweatpants. “Used your own gun and dumped it way too close to the crime scene. You aren’t getting out of this one.”

  “Deklan, what’s happening? What are they talking about?”

  “Your husband is a criminal,” one of the cops says, “and he is finally going to get what’s coming to him.”

  “It’s all right, Kera.” Deklan ignores the cop and looks right at me. “It’s all going to be fine. Just some kind of mistake. Don’t worry, babe.”

  “Search everywhere,” Warren says. “There’s no telling what we’ll find.”

  I follow as Deklan is hauled out of the bedroom and into the living room. More officers come in from the hallway outside the apartment door and start going through drawers and cabinets in the kitchen.

  “Dek?” I stare into my husband’s apologetic eyes, too confused and scared to make sense of what is happening.

  “It’s all right,” he says again. He lifts his foot so a cop can pull the pants up his leg. “Can you grab my shoes? Once they leave, just call Brian. He’ll take care of everything.”