Page 95 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
My plan for this confrontation was simple. Get inside, use the camera on my phone to sneak some video footage of the house, and, if I was really lucky, trick Kira into admitting her care for Mason was lacking.
Having dated a lawyer for years, I knew that recorded conversations fell into a gray area where admissible evidence was concerned. But I was willing to risk it, figuring a judge would be lenient since this was about a child’s survival.
“Hello? Ms. Robertson!” I shouted. “This is Ms. Austin. Mason’s teacher. Do you have a moment?”
When the door finally swung open, I expected Kira. Instead, a greasy man wearing a dirty white tank top and gray sweatpants answered the door. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I’m looking for Kira Robertson? Am I at the wrong house?”
“She’s busy,” he said, trying to shut the door in my face.
Thrusting my foot into the doorjamb, I yelled, “Wait! I just want to talk to her about Mason. I’m his teacher.”
This guy had at least fifty pounds and six inches on me. With minimal force, he could have shoved my foot aside and shut the door on me.
But he didn’t push me away.
He reached behind his back and pulled out a black handgun, pressing the barrel right into my forehead.
Consumed with pure fear, I froze. “Please don’t. I’m just Mason’s teacher,” I whispered.
My plea evoked a menacing grin. This man was completely devoid of goodness or compassion. His glassy stare was nothing but evil. He was a psychopath. All he had to do was squeeze his finger and I was dead.
But I didn’t want this to be the end. I wanted to go to my mother’s wedding. I wanted to see Mason’s dimple again. I wanted to kiss Nick and fall asleep in his arms. I wasn’t done living my life.
“Please,” I pleaded again. Tears flooded my eyes.
He pressed the gun further into my skin, forcing my head back an inch. “Get the fuck outta here.”
The instant I had permission to leave, I scrambled backward. My heel caught on the cracked cement step and I flew to the ground, landing on my ass. While the man laughed and sneered, I fumbled back to my feet and ran to my Jeep.
Clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles, I made good on my promise to Maisy and drove immediately to the police station.
“You and Georgia both need to calm the fuck down and let me do my job. Christ, you women are difficult,” Jess said.
“What? Gigi isn’t going over there, is she?” I gasped.
“No,” he said. “Georgia knows I’d lose my shit if she pulled a stunt like you did. She’s threatening to make me sleep in the garage if I don’t bring Mason home with me tonight. Rowen told her on the drive home today that she needed two lunches tomorrow so Mason could eat. I hung up the phone with her two minutes before you came running in.”
“Oh good,” I sighed. The last place I wanted Gigi was at Kira Robertson’s trailer.
When I had arrived at the sheriff’s department, the dispatcher had taken one look at my ashen face and shuffled me into a conference room. Minutes later, Jess and Sam had huddled around me, listening intently as I’d reported the incident. Sam left not long after I had finished to collect Mason from the motel.
“I’m sorry.” It was all I could think to say. I’d known that I was stepping on Jess’s toes before I’d gotten to Kira’s trailer, but my temper had gotten the best of me and beat out my common sense. Besides, how was I to know that a crazed, gun-wielding man would be living with Mason’s aunt?
“I get where you were coming from, Emmeline,” Jess said. “Your timing sucks though. Mason was getting pulled from that house tomorrow morning.”
“He was?” I asked with wide eyes.
“Yeah. I had a deputy staked out at her neighbor’s, watching Kira’s place every night for a week. Last night he saw the boyfriend sell drugs to a couple of known users. Busted the users this morning and they gave up the boyfriend as their dealer.”
My stomach felt nauseous and my muscles weak. Closing my eyes, I took a few long breaths, trying to keep my emotions together. But it was all too much. I was relieved that Mason was getting out of that place and I was elated that I had survived the afternoon.
Tears started streaming down my face.
Jess slid his chair next to me and pulled me into his shoulder, using his free arm to dig his phone from his jeans pocket. “Slater. Brick. Better come to the station. Emmeline’s here.”
Jess’s shoulder was soon replaced with Nick’s, and as he held me tight, Jess gave him a recap of my afternoon. The more Jess talked, the tighter Nick’s grip became.
