DADDY ON DUTY - SNEAK PEEK

4 days ago

12 min read

Co-written with my daughter Jessica Benson, DADDY ON DUTY goes on sale in one week, on Tuesday November 10th. It's the second of three Wakeland Warrior books, set within the now 7-book McIntyre Men series.

You can pre-order on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited, so you'll have it by the time you wake up that Tuesday morning.

Pre-order links for the paperbacks are moving more slowly, but should be appearing everywhere books are sold this week, including Amazon, Bookshop, BN, Books-a-Million, Booktopia, Foyle's, Blackwell, and many more.

Now, just to give you a taste, here's CHAPTER ONE

DADDY ON DUTY

JESSICA BENSON & MAGGIE SHAYNE

CHAPTER ONE

There were two things Adam Wakeland knew with absolute certainty. He knew that he needed to ask his ex-wife for help and he knew he was going to hate every minute of it.

Adam stood outside Riley Everett’s upscale apartment in the Bricktown neighborhood of Oklahoma City and knocked on her door for the fourth time. The neighbor across the hall opened her door a crack, leaving the chain firmly in place, and glared at him through the small opening.

The last time he’d shown up at Riley’s unannounced had been the day she’d served him with divorce papers. There’d been a nosey neighbor on that occasion as well, and while his pounding on the door hadn’t got him any closer to Riley that time, it had earned him a ride in a police car. The elderly neighbor’d had enough and called the cops.

What he’d done with the remainder of that night was the reason he was back here now.

Adam plastered a friendly smile on his face and gave the neighbor a wave. The old woman slammed the door. He suspected she was still watching through the peephole, though.

He fought the urge to slam his fist into a wall in frustration, upsetting the neighbor even more. But a knot of apprehension twisted his stomach. This was the last place he wanted to be. If he had any other option, he’d head back down the hallway, out the door, and speed out of OKC like it was burning down behind him. But he didn’t have a choice.

He clutched the note in his pocket and hoped he could convince Riley to help him. Even though she hated him. Even though she was the last person on earth he wanted to talk to.

Especially about this.

He paced the hallway like he’d been doing for the last thirty minutes. The door across the hall opened again and Adam grimaced.

The way he saw it, he had two choices. He could leave and try to catch Riley another time—not a great option, since he’d barely worked up the will to come this time—or he could let himself in and wait until she got home. It was seven o’clock on a Friday night, which probably meant that his private detective ex-wife was either on a date or working a case. He hoped to God it was the latter, but he had no business hoping that or anything else where Riley was concerned. She’d made that crystal clear.

Hell, she’d left Big Falls to get away from him, and nobody ever wanted to leave Big Falls. Those few who did always wound up coming back. It was kind of local legend.

It had been eight years, though, so for Riley, he didn’t think that trend was holding.

He thought again of the letter in his pocket. It was the reason he was here, and he knew that what it said was too important to trust to anyone else.

A little girl’s safety was on the line.

He heard the phone ring in the apartment across the hall. It sounded like an old-fashioned landline. When it stopped, he figured the curious neighbor must’ve walked away from the peephole long enough to answer it. So, before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed Riley’s doorknob and gave it a turn, because God knew she never locked up.

The knob didn’t budge. Adam was pleasantly surprised. Despite being a first-rate PI, even when she’d first started out, she’d rarely locked the door of their home when they were married. That had driven him crazy at the time.

He bent down and pulled back the corner of the doormat. A key lay underneath. Apparently her newfound concern for personal security only extended so far. He rolled his eyes as he turned the key in the lock and let himself in. It would take a criminal about 30 seconds to get into this place. If they were on friendlier terms, he’d say something about that, but as it was, Adam and Riley had only spoken once in the eight years since their divorce.

Six months ago, Riley had shown up in their hometown at the request of Adam’s own little sister Lexi, and their reunion had been less than friendly. He’d said some unpleasant things. She’d threatened to disembowel him. By the end of the day, the reasons for their divorce had been abundantly clear, except that they weren’t clear at all.

She’d never told him why.

Adam wasn't looking for reconciliation tonight, though, or even an explanation. That ship had sailed. He was looking for help, and Riley was the only person who could give it.

Her apartment was small but what there was of it was high end. He could see through to the kitchen’s granite countertops, dark shaker cabinets, and stainless-steel appliances. Across the living room, glass doors with a balcony on the other side provided a breathtaking view of the city.

They’d never lived anywhere this nice when they’d been married. Everything she had now was a result of her own success. Riley Everett Investigations had grown from a one-woman operation into a full-scale firm over the last eight years, and Adam knew that was because Riley was tenacious. She was also loyal to a fault–except apparently where Adam was concerned. And if someone messed with one of the few people Riley cared about, there wasn’t a force on earth that would keep her from getting to the bottom of it. That was what Adam needed.

He sat down on Riley’s hard, angular sofa and was glad that it felt more comfortable than it looked. He pulled the letter from his pocket and looked at it again, wishing the answers would magically appear so he wouldn’t have to ask his ex-wife for help.

Dear Adam,

You might not even remember me, but I hope you do. Eight years ago, we met in that Roadside Tavern. What a dive that place was. I don’t know about the men’s room, but the women’s room had more Phone Numbers than TP, at least in Stall 2. You were drunk, I was lonely and we spent the night together. We both knew that was all it was, but nine months later, I had a baby. I didn't try to find you then. I don’t think I would be trying to find you now if things were different.

Life hasn’t been easy. I haven’t always been a good mother, but I’m trying to do the right thing for my little girl now. Her name is Kendall Grace. She’s seven years old, and beautiful and smart and way too good for the life I’ve given her. She’s not happy here. Maybe she’s not even safe. I try, but I can’t give her what she deserves.

She’s special, Adam. Strong and sassy and smart as a whip. She must get it from you, because God knows she doesn’t get it from me.

I’ve thought about finding you so many times, and even now, I’m afraid I’ll never find the courage to send this letter, but if you read it, I hope you’ll think about looking us up. I don’t know where we’ll be. We have to keep moving to stay a few steps ahead of my past. But I hope you’ll try, for Kendall’s sake.

Sincerely,

Kimmy Westcott

Adam wondered for the millionth time if he was crazy to ask Riley for help. She’d been the one to end things between them, and she had made it clear she no longer had any feelings toward him.

He’d had a lot of trouble believing that she’d just stopped loving him at some point after their miscarriage. For a long time, he’d wrestled with figuring out why. She couldn’t have blamed him—he wasn’t even there. He’d been deployed.

But he’d long since given up on understanding. One thing he knew for sure was that even after eight years, he’d be furious if their situations were reversed. If she’d been the one to hook up right after they’d split, if she had a kid that wasn’t his. He’d be furious, but he’d help her.

This was a bad idea. He couldn’t show her that letter, suggesting the little girl might be his--and almost the same age their own child would’ve been. No, this was idiocy. He had to leave.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, keys jangled in the lock. He shoved the note back into his pocket, deciding all at once that he’d have to get Riley’s help without telling her all the details.

She was going to be pissed that he’d let himself in, but she’d get over it. And she would help him, too, because, despite her feelings toward him, she loved her job and back in the day at least, she’d never missed a chance to show off how good she was at it.

Adam stood up and walked toward the door, waiting for Riley to come in. The doorknob turned. There was a pause before it opened all the way, and Adam realized too late, that she knew someone was in her place. She pushed through the door all at once, dropping her handbag to the floor, and aimed a taser at his chest. Before he could say a word, she pulled the trigger.

He ducked to the side and the electrodes shot past him, but she came at him with a new weapon, a stun gun. He hadn’t noticed it, but it must have been in her other hand the whole time. His military training took over, and he hit her wrist in a wax-off move. The Taser fell to the floor.

Riley was barely five-foot-two and Adam towered over her at six-four. She spun to try to retrieve the weapon, tripping on the purse she’d dropped and almost falling. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind so she wouldn’t crash and hoped she’d figured out who he was by then.

She slammed her head backward into his face and then she stomped on his foot with her much smaller one.

The heels she was wearing stabbed into his toe and he yelped. “Damn it, Riley! It’s me.” He loosened his grip.

She jammed an elbow into his stomach. The force of it knocked him backward a step, and then she spun around and glared at him. “I know, it’s you,” she growled

He held up his hands in surrender, but he wasn’t sure she planned on halting the attack. “I was planning to lecture you about leaving your key under the doormat, but I guess you can take care of yourself.”

“Damn right.” She pushed the door closed and crossed the small apartment to the kitchen.

It was the first time he’d had the chance to look at her. She’d kept her dark red curls long, and wore them in a high-riding ponytail. Her cheeks still got all red when she was angry, and her eyes still spat green fire. “What the hell are you doing here, Adam? You’re lucky I didn't shoot you.”

Adam picked up the purse Riley had dropped in the struggle and saw a compact Beretta sitting inside, right on top. He followed her to the kitchen and set it on the counter.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Ever hear of a phone?” She ran a kitchen towel under the faucet and held it out to him.

He stared at it stupidly.

“Your nose,” she said, her gaze dipping lower on his face.

He took the towel, wiped his face and was surprised to see a patch of bright red blood on the white towel. “Aw, you do care.”

“I just don’t want you to bleed on my carpet and put my security deposit at risk. Now, what do you want, Adam?”

Adam sighed and forced the words. “I need your help, Ri.” He hated saying it. He hated even more that it was true. “For a friend of mine. He needs help finding someone.”

“A friend, huh? So why isn’t he here? He thought the best bet would be to send you to talk to your ex-wife on his behalf?”

He gave an exaggerated shrug. “You’re a PI. Finding people is what you do, right? He’s out of the country and this couldn’t wait. He said he tried to find her on his own, but she’s off the radar.”

“A woman. It’s a woman he’s trying to find.”

He nodded.

“Why’d you come to me, when we both know you can’t stand the sight of me?”

Adam looked at her for a second. That wasn’t true. The sight of her wasn’t the problem. Even now, with her hair a mess from their scrimmage. Her ponytail was bumpy and lopsided and several wild red curls had worked their way free. Her cheeks were pink and the top button of her shirt had come undone. It took all the concentration Adam had to keep from thinking about the last time he’d seen her look that disheveled and what they’d done to get her that way. Instead he tried to focus on the task at hand.

“My friend, he thinks this woman is in trouble, Riley. He said he’s tried everything he can think of. He’s desperate to get some answers.”

She scrutinized his face so intently her brow crinkled. “Who is she? And who is the friend? You haven’t mentioned names.”

That knot formed in his gut again. Lying to Riley was always tough. She knew him too well. His face gave away too much. But he had good reason to be deceitful this time. Despite the divorce and the hell they’d put each other through, he didn’t want to hurt her again. And he knew the truth would do exactly that.

“The woman’s name is Kimmy—Kimberly, I guess—Westcott. She’s a bartender in Tulsa. Or at least she was eight years ago.”

She frowned. “Eight years ago? Like when you came back from deployment?”

“To divorce papers, yes, Riley, the same eight years.” He looked at his feet, swallowed the old pain. “My friend, Morales, remember him? He says he hasn’t seen her in years. But she sent him a letter recently and it sounded like she was in trouble.” He’d picked the name of a deployed friend at random, hoping if Riley bothered to double check, she’d see he was out of the country and be satisfied that he was telling the truth.

Riley narrowed her eyes. “Where’s this letter? What was the return address? When and where was it postmarked? What did it say to make Morales so concerned?” She said the name as if she wasn’t buying one word of his story.

Adam shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t give me all the details. The letter came from Tulsa, I know that. He got it a week ago, but it was sent way before that. He’s moved around a lot and someone was holding his mail for him. He said he needed to track her down. That’s all I know. He knew about you and asked me if I’d reach out to you since he’s not here.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, examining him closely and he was afraid the truth was right there on his face. He tried to look away before she could read too much.

“You’re keeping something from me. You wouldn’t break in for that.”

“I didn’t break in. There was a key.” She was right, of course, but he’d be damned before he’d tell her the truth. It had been almost nine years since their pregnancy had ended in miscarriage, and eight since their divorce. He still felt the ache of it, and he knew Riley did too. Their marriage hadn’t been strong enough to survive the loss of their child, at least that was the only conclusion he’d been able to reach.

He’d been deployed when it had happened. The guilt of knowing she’d gone through it alone gnawed at him. Of course they sent him home, but Riley would barely speak. She locked herself in their bedroom for days, refusing to let anyone in. Even him. Especially him.

When she finally had come out, she’d refused to talk about it. She just carried on as if nothing had happened. But there was a wall between them, one he couldn’t get through.

They told him he could put in to stay stateside to finish out his hitch. But he hadn’t seen the point, and had never even told her about that option. He’d just gone back to his unit and fought the enemy he could see instead of the invisible demons in their marriage, hoping she’d be ready to let him in by the time he got back.

He’d called whenever he could, but he’d felt her pulling away and his calls had become less and less frequent. When the deployment was over, he’d come home to find divorce papers waiting for him.

Adam shrugged again, trying to keep his desperation from his expression. “Look this guy saved my ass down-range. I’m only here because I owe him a favor. I probably should’ve got more info before I came, but I just had to make sure you’d be willing first. Tell me what you need and I’ll try to get it for you.”

There was still doubt in Riley’s eyes, but she didn’t question him again and she didn’t argue. Instead she grabbed a notebook and a pen and started making a list. She wielded the pen like she was mad at it. When she finished, she tore off the top sheet and slid it in his direction.

“This is what I need. Get me as much information as you can. I’ll also need your friend’s contact information.”

“He’s deployed, Riley. You’re not gonna be able to get hold of him.”

“But you will? Isn’t that interesting?”

Adam shrugged, choosing not to answer.

“Well, if you’ve got nothing else to say, I guess you can get the hell out of my apartment. Call me when you’ve got the information I need. Or, you know, when you’re ready to tell me whatever it is you’re holding back.”