A VERY UN-SHAKESPEARE ROMANCE: ‘A Fake Dad Grumpy Sunshine Romantic Comedy’

Slamming the case file on a bad guy was as good as sex.

Had he really just thought that? Robbie O’Connor filed the paperwork sitting on his messy desk and then picked up his shitty precinct coffee to wash the taste of that sorry realization out of his mouth. Sure, the criminal who was now serving twenty years had hurt his wife and kids like it was his daily right. Robbie lived for getting scumbags like that thrown into the slammer. Work had always been his mission. His source of pride. He loved making a difference in people’s lives.

But had he really gotten to a point where he thought putting someone away was as good as a roll in the sheets with a hot-blooded woman?

Okay, he knew he worked a lot. He’d gotten into the habit of taking on extra cases to help out other cops with families since there was no reason for him to go home. He was patted on the back all the time for it. But this notion? His brothers—all six of them—would likely say he’d become a pathetic excuse for a man. Okay, maybe not Tim. The youngest O’Connor male was the most sensitive one. He’d be more inclined to point out Robbie had become overly cynical since his divorce. Not so far from the truth.

“O’Connor!” his intercom blasted from reception. “The UPS guy needs your pretty signature.”

Shoving out of his creaky office chair, he strolled down the hallway, wondering if his sister Kathleen had sent him something from Ireland. She liked to pop the odd stuffed sheep or eerie leprechaun into the post, but those packages usually came in around birthdays or holidays. It was late August, but maybe she’d sent him a Just Because present. He was her favorite brother, after all—not that his other brothers would agree, the idiots.

They all adored their one and only sister, and God knew she’d put up with a lot having seven older brothers. But she’d turned out okay. In fact, she was the only O’Connor kid who was happily married with a baby on the way. He was smiling at the thought of his first niece or nephew when he reached the man in the brown uniform beside the reception desk. The guy was belly-laughing with Patty Fitzgerald, both men huddled over the latter’s phone.

“Hey, O’Connor!” Patty smacked him on the back. “I was just showing Al here your latest stupid criminal video. I still can’t believe that murderer thought he could erase all the evidence by sticking the body in a vat of vanilla ice cream. I about died laughing when the local reporter quoted the suspect as saying the victim loved having his cherry pie à la mode, so he figured he’d appreciate the gesture of burying him in it.”

Robbie puffed out his chest, taking pride in spreading his sick version of law enforcement cheer. His family, friends, and fellow co-workers all loved it. “It might be a top ten, given the suspect dropped his cell phone in the vat along with the body. Forensics found the sim card and recovered everything from his threatening texts to his murder shopping list at Home Depot. Idiot thought the ice cream would cure all his troubles.”

“A pint of chocolate chip usually cures mine when my old lady gives me fits,” the UPS guy said with a snort. “You O’Connor?”

“Didn’t you hear me call him that?” Patty walked back behind the reception desk. “What? You got lime sherbet in your ears?”

Robbie shot Patty an amused look before pulling out his ID, tucked beside his badge inside the wrinkled tan sports jacket he really needed to get to the dry cleaners. “Don’t mind him, Al. Patty hasn’t had his donut quotient for the morning. Thanks.”

“No problem,” the man answered as Robbie signed for the package.

He immediately noted it wasn’t from Ireland as the UPS man took off. Just a simple Next Day Delivery envelope with an illegible return address in Boston. His instincts revved. He hadn’t been sent anonymous evidence through the mail in a while, but maybe today was the day. The thought excited him more than it probably should. He needed an interesting new case. Something to hold his focus. The run-of-the-mill breaking and entering was like stale bread.

“That from your sweet little sister?” Patty asked, slurping coffee from his carefully guarded I’m Too Sexy cup, an outrageous lie his fellow police officers knee-slapped themselves silly laughing over. Patty had the kind of unmemorable face that had made him great for blend-in-anywhere undercover work. Now, with only a few years to go until retirement, he was proud of his weekly donut intake.

“Doesn’t look like it’s from sis.” Robbie casually rested against the desk and snagged an apple crumb donut from Patty’s box. “Maybe I won the lottery. Wait, I just did.”

“Hey! Donut stealing is a serious offense. Don’t make me cuff you.”

“I’m good for it,” he called over his shoulder, moving quickly to his office and then dramatically slamming the door. Only one other officer had ever cuffed him—Patty, back when Robbie had been a hotshot rookie. The older officer had taken it upon himself to give him a lesson in police hierarchy after he’d solved one of Patty’s cases in a day—a case that had been open for six months. So the big lug had cuffed him to one of his cousin’s garbage trucks for revenge.

Robbie had taken the hint to shut up and done his job, letting people come to him if they wanted his help. He’d risen through the ranks faster that way, not that promotion had been his focus. But to this day, he’d never been recreational with handcuffs in the bedroom.

God, here he was again, thinking about sex—or his current dry spell. To be fair, it was of his own choosing. He was turning forty this year, and he was tired. Tired of dating apps that brought strange messages to his inbox, and even more so of the bar hookup scene, including at his brother’s Irish pub, O’Connor’s.

He didn’t want to get married again just for the sake of it, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted kids of his own. They were great and all, but they asked so many questions and needed so many things. He’d practically helped raise seven siblings, being the oldest. He was good with living life as a single man. Or so he was telling himself…

He carefully opened the envelope, checking the interior with the eraser end of a pencil from his desk. It only nudged a half sheet of paper. When he withdrew the note inside, he froze.

Robbie,

I need you to get into a taxi right now and go to the Beacon Hill Gym. My babies are there. You have to pretend to be their father and pick them up. Don’t try and call me. More information will be waiting for you there. Don’t leave this note at your office and don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Make sure you aren’t followed. I haven’t been kidnapped, fyi.

Love,

The one who helped you out of Carson Bay after that lion’s mane jellyfish stung you.

TARA!

Robbie read his first cousin’s cryptic note over again, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to make sense of it. Jesus, she hadn’t even signed it. Just given a detail only he would remember, much more cloak-and-dagger than he was comfortable with. And why the fuck had she thrown in the haven’t-been-kidnapped part? His blood pressure was soaring already.

He looked at the UPS envelope, noting she’d sent the letter yesterday. Yesterday…

Why not call or text him? He knew she’d caught her worthless husband, Scotty, cheating with one of her nail salon technicians a few days ago and thrown him out of the house, saying they were done. His brother Danny had spread the news after Tara had stormed into O’Connor’s wanting a fully loaded Rueben and a Cosmo.

Why were Tara’s two girls at some gym way up in Beacon Hill? Tara didn’t belong to a gym as far as he knew, and neither did Scotty. Certainly they didn’t hang out in that chichi neighborhood. And what was with the bit about not telling anyone or being followed? Had Scotty hired an investigator for divorce proceedings?

Shit. Divorces sucked. He’d left his cousin a voicemail the moment he’d heard about the O’Connor’s incident, saying he was sorry Scotty was such a worthless jerk and asking if she needed anything. Her parents had both passed and she was an only child, so Robbie felt a sort of responsibility toward her. She was almost like another sibling to him and his brothers and sister. But he hadn’t worried too much when he hadn’t heard back from Tara. He’d figured she had her hands full. Obviously, she did. But with what?

He eyed his gun. He didn’t love the idea of picking up kids while he had his service revolver. Technically, he was on duty, however, so he was required to be armed. Shrugging out of his jacket, he refastened his shoulder holster and tugged the garment back on, grabbing his cell phone. He was out the door moments later, walking past Patty with a brief wave. Finding a taxi was always challenging, but he walked up the road until he hit a main intersection and hailed one there.

The ride was over twenty minutes with lunch-hour traffic, giving him time to stew and put extra wrinkles in his pants as he gripped his knees. Tara was a smart, independent woman who handled her own shit like the rest of the O’Connors. Something was wrong. Bad wrong. His gut was flip-flopping like a largemouth bass hooked at Hammond Pond. He was sweating by the time the cab dropped him off in front of the gym, but he was ready for anything. Tara could count on him. She’d always known that. He’d made her that promise when he’d held her after arriving with the police to inform her of the tragic car accident that killed her parents.

The electric double doors of the gym whooshed open as he approached, the blast of the air-conditioning welcome. He approached reception with his best attempt at a smile.

“Hello, I’m Robbie O’Connor.” He masked a shaky breath. “I’m here to pick up Reagan and Cassidy.”

“Oh, Mr. O’Connor.” The woman whose gold nameplate read Brenda gave him a blooming smile. “I’m so glad you made it. Your wife was so worried.”

Wife? He compressed a shudder. “Do you need to see my ID?” he asked, already reaching into his back pocket.

Brenda rolled her eyes. “Yes, I do even though your wife showed me your photo. She’s never left the kids with us before, so she was a little nervous. Then her boss made it worse when he called her back to work only ten minutes after she’d started her workout. What a jerk. Poor thing was beside herself having to leave them here for longer and asking you to take off work early to pick them up. I felt so bad for her.”

He heard this story with more than a little shock. His cousin didn’t have a boss; she was the boss, of three nail salons. The lies were clearly necessary in Tara’s mind, but why? He made himself nod as he quickly flashed his ID and then signed the kids out, not feeling exactly comfortable with being on record for something he didn’t yet understand. He was the guy who put liars away when they took things too far. Impersonating a child’s father to remove them from gym daycare was skirting the line, but he knew Tara must have a damn good reason.

“I’ll just call and have your kids come out since you don’t know where the daycare is,” Brenda said helpfully.

Moments later, he heard “Daddy!” echo throughout reception.

Robbie’s muscles locked hard. The girls were in on it? He swung his head to the right as a young girl ran into him and wrapped her little arms around his leg, gripping it with all her strength.

“Da-da,” another childlike voice sounded as a soft lump knocked into his other side, tiny fingers tickling his kneecap.

He hoped the gym attendant hadn’t seen his ripple of shock as he automatically put his hands on the girls’ heads. What the hell was going on? The smells of workout sweat and pool chlorine kicked up his mounting nausea. Tara had said more information would be at the gym. It had better be. Because now he was super freaked. And he dealt with life-and-death situations daily.

This was family, though, and that made the stakes so much higher.

“Hey, Cassidy and Reagan,” he managed to say through a dry mouth as he looked down at the little girls.

Big matching blue eyes in unsmiling china-doll faces filled his vision. He knew Tara’s girls, of course. But man, had they grown since he’d seen them at the annual O’Connor July Fourth BBQ over a month ago. Reagan looked inches taller. Was that possible for a six-year-old? And Cassidy’s short, curly hair was a darker brown. He tried to smile despite the tension in his jaw. This had to be weird for them too, right?

Cassidy gave him a drool-drenched grin as she clutched the girliest teddy bear in history, decked out in a pink gingham dress with a huge matching bow between her fuzzy white ears. Miss Rosie, if his memory served.

He studied the girls for any signs of further distress as he would on a 911 domestic call. They both had bright bows in their hair, which added to the girly ensembles of flowery sundresses and glittering sandals, Reagan’s open-toed and Cassidy’s closed. They were dressed just like Tara, who loved her bright colors and bling. The kids didn’t have any bruises, thank God. Not even a scratch. He tried to suck in some oxygen in relief, but he caught the worry in their eyes. You could always tell what someone was really feeling by looking there.

This had to be about their father. Robbie hadn’t liked Scotty Flanagan from the time they’d shared a playground at St. Stephens Catholic School. He was a weak excuse for a man, but Tara had fallen for him and said he both supported and helped her business aspirations, so Robbie had kept his lips zipped and been pleasant to him at family events.

If Scotty had done something to hurt Tara and her babies, as she called them, they were going to have one hell of a serious talk.

“Hi,” Cassidy drew out, hugging his leg harder. He felt something wet touch his knee through his pants and cringed. She was a drool factory, which is why her nickname was Drool Baby while her sister’s was Miss Pixie.

“Mr. O’Connor, I’ll just grab the diaper bag. Your wife said to make sure you didn’t forget it since it’s not your fave.”

Diaper bag? His balls shriveled, and he immediately looked down at Cassidy. Yeah, she had the puffy outline under her dress that indicated she was still in diapers. His brain shorted. Man, he hadn’t changed a diaper since Kathleen was little, and it wasn’t something he missed. Then he realized the bag might contain the information his cousin had mentioned was waiting for him, and his palms started to sweat again.

“Thanks, Brenda. I’ll just wait here with the girls.”

Kneeling to their level as the woman took off, he laid a hand on Reagan’s shoulder. Cassidy cuddled into his body with Miss Rosie and laid her head against his chest, smelling of sour orange juice she must have spilled on her dress. “You guys okay?”

Reagan bit her lip but bravely nodded. “Mom said you need to read her letter.”

“Is it in the diaper bag?”

“Yes.” Reagan curved into him so she could say something into his ear. “Mom said you would take care of us until she came back.”

Came back? Where the fuck had Tara gone? His stomach dropped to the floor at that pronouncement, but he hugged them both. They had to be scared, and Tara had to be terrified to have taken off and left her babies. “You know I will. We O’Connors stick together. We’ll figure it out.” He patted their little backs with assurance. God, they were so tiny compared to his large hands.

Brenda returned with a large bedazzled bag, which said BOSS on the side in white rhinestones. He lurched forward to help her with it as she was straining with effort.

“Your wife is like I used to be,” Brenda commented as he gently slid the heavy bag off her shoulder. “Ready for every emergency. I had three boys. My husband joked that hefting around the kids and the diaper bag was like lifting dumbbells.”

He tested the heaviness, estimating it weighed about thirty pounds. Did Tara’s diaper bag usually weigh this much? Brenda didn’t seem to consider it strange.

“It keeps Tara fit too,” he said, keeping the conversation normal as Cassidy hugged his leg again. “I told her she didn’t need to join a gym. She looks great just as she is.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Brenda said with a breathy sigh. “I wish my husband thought that. Even so, your wife wanted to join today, but she didn’t have time to finish the gym membership paperwork. She said you could bring it with you for her to fill out. I know she wanted to get back here tomorrow to continue her workout.”

Robbie doubted she’d be back, but only nodded. “I’m happy to take the papers, Brenda.”

“Are you interested in joining too? Your wife said you loved to work out, but not in gyms. That’s pretty obvious. What do you bench?”

Her appreciative nod at his impressive build had him shrugging with a little embarrassment. “If there were any gyms I’d consider, it would be this one, but I’m more the outdoor workout type. Well, girls…”

They were staring up at him with their hearts in their eyes. He nearly gulped at the trust there.

“Let’s get this show on the road.” He made sure to flash Brenda a smile. “Thanks again for your help.”

Hefting the diaper bag up higher on his shoulder, he glanced down at Cassidy. How far could a two-year-old walk? Screw it. He swung her into his arms and felt Reagan grab his other hand as they left.

“Mom parked in a garage,” Reagan told him the moment the doors whooshed closed behind them. “She helped me memorize the directions.”

Tara had left a car? How had she gotten home? But that wasn’t a question fit for the kids, so he just said, “All right. Lead the way.”

The girls were quiet as Reagan navigated them to a garage three blocks from the gym. He was impatient to reach the letter, but he had to walk like a snail so the young girl could keep up with him. Tara had chosen a parking deck loaded with top-model, freshly washed cars and parked in the corner on the second floor by an exit. When they reached the shiny black Cadillac SUV with dealer’s plates—not Tara’s—Reagan dug into the diaper bag’s front pocket and pulled out a key fob.

“Mom told me to keep the diaper bag safe and I did. When Cassidy needed a change, I got the diaper out and everything.”

Her smile exhibited a certain pride, and it made him wonder at the little triumphs that helped build a kid’s self-confidence. “You did a bang-up job, Reagan. Did your mom get a new car?”

“No, she got it from someone after all our tires got nails in them.” She blew an exasperated breath toward her short bangs, a move she’d clearly copied from her mother. “Mom was so mad, but she said this was the bright side. We got two new cars for our adventure. One for Mom. And one for us.”

Battery acid pooled in his stomach. Being in law enforcement, he knew parents used “adventure talk” to dress up bad shit. He popped the trunk and startled at the three suitcases, two girly ones and another in a dark black, along with cardboard boxes loaded with family-size snacks and beverages. He even noticed his favorite beer. Then he saw the giant bag of diapers and winced.

“You’re packed for that adventure, it seems.” What was the adult-sized case for if Tara wasn’t coming?

“Mom went shopping for our trip before we came to the gym.” Reagan stood on her tiptoes and pointed to the beer. “She wanted us all to have our favorites.”

The beer was a downright bribe. “That was nice of her.”

“She brought you some clothes too,” Reagan added shyly, ducking her head. “We hope you like them.”

“Mine,” Cassidy said, pointing to the purple suitcase with the smiling unicorn on the front, decked out with rainbows that made him think of Ireland.

Then he heard an angry meow and looked down at the girls in horror. “Did you bring your cat?”

“Mom said we had to take Miss Purrfect with us.” Reagan looked at her sister, who nodded, wide-eyed. “She’s part of our family, and Mom said we could have her so we wouldn’t miss her so much.”

How could they not miss their mother? He fought a curse when they both studied their feet. Just how long did Tara plan to be gone—and why? It was time for answers.

“Okay, Reagan. Where’s this letter of your mom’s?”

She pointed to the diaper bag again. “There’s a zipper part on the bottom. Mom said everything you need to know is in there.”

He dropped the diaper bag on top of the other suitcases and unzipped the bottom one-handed while balancing Cassidy against his chest. Sure enough, inside the clever compartment was a manila envelope with his name scrawled across it in a hurried cursive.

He pulled out the envelope, hoisted the bag back over his shoulder, and slammed the trunk shut. “Let’s get you guys in the car.”

“We have our car seats,” Reagan informed him as he opened the back passenger door, kicking off another angry meow. “Mom said Miss Purrfect wouldn’t be happy being caged in the car, but she couldn’t bring her to the gym. Can we let her out now?”

“Sure.” Why not add a snarly cat to the party?

She gave him a beaming smile as she leaned down and opened the cage, her hair bow flopping to the right. The animal’s pointed white face snarled at him like he was the reason it had been in feline jail, its green eyes staring at him with as much menace as the serial killer he’d busted ten years ago. Great. He was already on this cat’s shit list.

“Look, Robbie! Mom made Miss Purrfect a new collar.” Reagan fingered the bedazzled band that had probably been inspired by that Marilyn Monroe song she loved, “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend.” Tara had the movie poster of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes in her main nail salon, and it seemed like the song had been playing every time he’d swung by to say hello and check up on her.

An image of Tara and his little sister Kathleen doing art projects on the kitchen table in his childhood home rose up in his mind. “Your mother has been gluing sparkles to everything she could get her hands on since she was a kid.”

“That’s how we make things prettier,” Reagan told him matter-of-factly while the cat tugged at the collar with its paw as if it understood their conversation. “I can hold Miss Purrfect on my lap after I help buckle Cassidy into her car seat. Mom says you might not know how to do it.”

What did Tara think he was? An idiot? But he was sensitive to Reagan’s pride. “She might be right. How about we buckle in after I read your mom’s letter?” His fingers were itching for information.

The SUV was designed for comfort, he noticed, as he settled Cassidy in the left captain’s seat and then helped Reagan into the right one before fitting himself into the spacious rear middle seat with the diaper bag at his feet. Next, he was going through that. Unsealing the envelope, he pulled out the pages and began to read.

Dear Robbie,

I’m in trouble. I didn’t dare call you on your phone because they told me they would find out and hurt my babies.

Let me back up. Scotty has taken off—with that skank nail girl Janice Brewster he screwed at my new location. I know Danny told you that I’d caught them together in the office doing the business on my desk four days ago. I fired Janice and kicked Scotty’s sorry ass out of the house, changed the locks, and took him off all the bank accounts, telling him I was getting a divorce. Like my lawyer advised.

Later that day, two of Branigan Kelly’s tough guys showed up at my main nail salon. They said they expected things to be business as usual with me even though I’d kicked Scotty out. I didn’t know what in the hell they were talking about and told them that they could go fuck themselves.

But the moment I closed for the day, I locked the door and searched every corner of the salon. I found over three hundred thousand dollars, which was like getting hit in the face by a two-by-four. I was sick with worry by the time I finished searching the other two salons. Robbie, I found over three hundred thousand dollars hidden in each nail salon—almost a million dollars total! I gathered it all up in a black suitcase and then put it in my BOSS bag under Cassidy’s diapers when I got home—the last place I thought anyone would look. The one I left at the gym for you.

Scotty was laundering money for the Kellys. He’s called my phone a million times begging me to let him pick up a few things he left behind at the nail salons. Personal mementos and his precious computer. What bullshit! He showed up when I was out, but my girls told him to buzz off. When he came by the house, I told him I’d call the police if he stuck around. What was he thinking? Doing that in my place of business and risking everything I’ve worked so hard for? I want to tear him apart.

He had to stop reading. His heart was pounding in his ears. The Kellys? Jesus, he hadn’t thought Scotty was that stupid. Everyone knew Branigan Kelly’s reputation in South Boston. He was a low-level monster who’d risen to the top by forming alliances with the Russians and the Albanians.

“Daddy really messed up, didn’t he?” Reagan said in the quiet of the car.

He looked over to see her holding Miss Purrfect tightly against her chest, her little chin resting in the fur. “What else did your mom tell you?”

“Mom is so mad at Daddy for being a moron and hurting our nail salons by being a bad businessman. She kicked him out of the house when he said he wasn’t sorry and wouldn’t make it right. Then she told us he left town and might not be coming back and good riddance. We girls are better off.”

“Yeah,” Cassidy echoed in baby-like support, her tiny fist banging the side of her car seat. “Good riddant.”

He tried to give them a smile. As a story, it was a solid one for kids. Believable details. Enough of the truth to make it passable. As a cop, he knew how critical it was for kids to have a story for their minds to hold on to. Otherwise, they might make up a story ten times worse than the truth, which would leave them in a fearful place of confusion and uncertainty. Never a good space for any person, least of all a child.

“I’m sorry this happened, but your mom is correct, and now we’re going to fix things.” He leaned forward with the letter in his hand and touched both girls’ arms, making sure to look them both straight in the eye. He knew how important such a look was. They had to know he could take care of them.

God, this situation was a heavy load for kids to carry. He knew the work it took for kids to keep positive in the face of major family changes and tragedy. He and his family had gone through the wringer when they’d lost their mom to breast cancer. Kathleen had only been five, the youngest of a whole bunch of pissed-off kids who’d done their best to tell her everything would be okay.

But it hadn’t been.

Their mother’s absence had left a hole in them all. He wondered if Scotty would leave such a hole, asshole that he was.

What the hell was the right thing to say here? “We O’Connors stick together.”

“And we’re as tough as they come,” Reagan added, echoing what she’d heard their family say over and over again. His mother used to say that if you repeated a sentiment often enough, you’d truly feel it, and Robbie believed that. It was the only way he’d gotten over his mother’s death.

“You bet we are.” He held out his hand for a fist bump, which Reagan gave with a surprising force.

“Me too,” Cassidy cried, holding out her little fist as well as her teddy bear’s.

His mouth twitched as he included them in the gesture. Tara was tough, and it was clear she was raising strong, independent girls. “I’m going to keep reading, and then we’ll…get going.”

Not that he knew what his next steps would be yet. He sat back with the letter.

Robbie, the Kellys slashed my tires in front of my townhouse yesterday, and I freaked. Then a man called my cell, said Scotty had taken off with Janice, and that if I knew where he was, I’d better tell them. I said I didn’t and that I was divorcing his sorry ass. He said Mr. Kelly expected me to change my mind about continuing Scotty’s business arrangement with them or they would hurt my babies. They even told me the name and address of their daycare and said accidents happen and children disappear or fall into the Mystic all the time. At the end, he told me not to go to you or the cops because they had people on the inside and would know.

I lost it. All I could think about was getting my girls to safety. But then what? My businesses have obviously been laundering money for the Kellys, and I have their cash. I think they believe Scotty ran off with it. But if and when they find him, they’ll know he doesn’t have it. So I’m turning the money in to you as an officer of the law and telling you Scotty is the criminal here. Not me.

But me and the girls are still in trouble. I knew the Kellys would start looking for us the moment I left town. They’re already looking for Scotty and Janice. I realized I couldn’t get far with two girls their age. Or protect them against Branigan Kelly’s guys.

So I’m asking you to take my girls and protect them with everything you’ve got. But not with the cops. Like family does. Because I won’t bet my girls’ lives that Kelly’s guys were lying about having people on the force.

Robbie tipped his head to the ceiling as tension gathered at the base of his skull. He couldn’t be one hundred percent sure either. The Kellys were legendary for throwing money at people until they caved or, if that didn’t work, threatening their families or setting them up for blackmail. They’d already caught one cop working on the Kelly payroll in the last year. But it would be a pain in the ass to handle this without doing it by the book. He didn’t want to lose his job by going rogue or become a suspect in this fiasco. Shit.

“Want Miss Rosie?”

He glanced over to see Cassidy holding out her bear. Shaking his head, he let out an uneasy breath when her lower lip wobbled. God, was she going to cry? “Nah, she looks pretty happy with you.”

“Mom said to tell you that she trusted you and that she knew it was going to freak you out a little bit to have this adventure with us while she worked things out with the business.” Reagan was suddenly pushing Miss Purrfect off her lap and jumping out of her seat, coming to stand in front of him in the short aisle, gripping his forearm. “Me and Cassidy promised Mom we would be really good and make things easy for you.”

God, that crushed him. He pulled her to his chest. “You two have always been as sweet as angels. That’s not my worry. I’m only worried a little about your mom. Going off on her own adventure like this.” Okay, so now he was stretching the truth too. “But don’t you guys worry. We’re going to get her back here really quick. I’m going to help make that happen. I promise.”

“I sure hope so.” Reagan tunneled into him. “I already miss her.”

“Me too,” Cassidy half wailed, eyes full of those tears he feared as she clutched her bear.

This sucked. All of it. “Let me finish your mom’s letter.”

Reagan pushed away and picked up the cat again. He turned the next page and started reading where he’d left off.

You always say stupid criminals get caught using their own car and their cell phone, so I made other arrangements. I borrowed this car from a client who said I could use it for as long as I need to while I’m getting new tires. He’s a dealer and won’t miss it. Another client just talked about her vacation in the Outer Banks and how family-friendly it is. I figured it would be the perfect cover for you and the girls if you pretend to be a single dad on a final summer vacation with his girls before school starts. I secured a house through my client’s property owners in the Outer Banks. You can pay cash on-site. I told them you were my ex-husband but that I still make reservations for you with the kids because I’m choosier, even though you’re a good father.

A good father? He was supposed to continue this charade? He fell back against the seat. Holy shit. As an officer of the law, he couldn’t take off with these kids and pretend to be their father. Especially across state lines. That could be called kidnapping if someone like their real father chose to make a stink. Jesus. He gritted his teeth and kept reading.

I know you’re going to want to do this like a cop, but you can’t. I believe the Kellys when they say they have people on the inside. I can’t take the chance with my babies, and neither can you. I’m begging you on your mother’s grave to protect them, and I’m telling you that my aunt—your mother—would agree with me.

I’m only asking for two weeks. You’ve always said the first two weeks after any crime-related incident are the most critical in the way things play out. Plus, you always joke about all your unused vacation time. Something will give. Either Scotty will confess everything to the cops when he realizes he can’t outrun the Kellys, which will make it easier for all of us to return to Boston and you to make the case airtight so the inside guys on the police force can’t fuck it up… Or the Kellys will find Scotty and deal with him. Hell, Janice might turn Scotty in to save her skin or because she’ll hate being on the run.

If and when the Kellys realize I’m gone and so is the cash, I can’t imagine how many guys they’re going to send out. They might suspect me, but they’re more likely to think Scotty is behind it.

I’m disappearing too, although it’s going to kill me to be away from my babies, but I know you can do a better job of keeping them safe. Right now, you’re the only person I trust. I know you’ll know what to do with the cash. And because this vacation is going to put you out, I took out some of my savings and stuffed it into the black suitcase for you to use. Don’t get mad. You know we O’Connors pay our way.

Plus, you’ll need to pay everything in cash like you always say is mandatory for people on the run. I did some early shopping since it’s a long drive—directions are in the envelope. Also, there’s a burner phone in the diaper bag. You know you can’t use your regular phone while you’re hiding, so I got new ones for both of us. Even though I want to call my babies and check in every single day, I won’t. You always say phones are the surest way of getting caught. So when something gives, I’ll call you and we’ll meet up. If it doesn’t—God help us—at the end of two weeks, then we’ll meet and make a new plan.

I’ve written down everything imaginable for you about the girls and put it in this envelope, from their favorite foods to how Cassidy needs to sleep with her feet out of the blanket because they get hot and she starts fussing. I know it’s a lot, and I swear I’ll make it up to you somehow, but Reagan is a good helper, and Cassidy is as sweet a baby as God has ever made and put here on earth.

Take care of my babies for me, Robbie. I’m trusting you with their lives—and mine.

Your loving cousin,

Tara

His heart was like a jackhammer as he stuffed the letter back into the envelope. He fingered the paper, one zinger repeating in his head. I’m telling you that my aunt—your mother—would agree with me. That was like a burr sticking to him.

His chest tightened as he realized what he was going to do—what he had to do. Sitting back, he planted his hands on his knees like he did when he was trying to figure out his next steps on a big case. Closing his eyes, he let the details swirl like dust coughed up from a strong wind off the Bay. He watched them all flash in his mind, fixing his gaze on one and then another, until they all settled to the floor. He could see the pitfalls now, the details that might hurt or injure. He waited for his mind to work out the things he could do now to offset those problems.

The next steps came to him, just as they always did. He was calm on the inside, a signature feeling for him when he was working something out in his mind. Still, when he opened his eyes to find both girls and the cat staring at him, practically holding their breath, pressure returned to his chest.

He could not make a wrong move here.

Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he turned it off and took out the sim card. He wasn’t going to help the Kellys by letting them track him through his cell phone. Tara had clearly paid attention all these years when he’d talked about cases, way more than he’d ever imagined.

When he looked up, her little girls were staring at every move he made, as still as small china doll statues. The cat looked like a stuffed animal. “Girls, are you hungry? Thirsty? Because I need to make a few calls on this new phone your mom bought me before we take off. But good news. You remember my brothers, Billie and Tim, don’t you? Billie’s the big giant of the O’Connor clan, the one no one messes with, and Tim’s the really nice guy who helps older people at the retirement home.”

Poor things both nodded quickly, their eyes as wide as saucers.

“Good news. They’re going on the adventure with us.”

Because he was going to need some serious backup for this case.