“Good, you’re right on time!” Delilah said.
“Who... what?”
“Come on, I need you to meet someone,” Delilah said and pulled him toward their guests. “Maverick, this is Judge Callaghan, and you know Queen. He’s here tonight for us.”
“And I’m a witness,” Queen said.
“Witness to what?” Maverick asked, but it soon began to make sense to him.
“To our wedding. I don’t want to wait anymore. Let’s do it. Let’s get married. Right now,” she said.
“I got the paperwork right here!” Queen said with the documents in her hand.
“Now? But...” Maverick stammered.
“You and me. This is about you and me only. Do you want to marry me? Then marry me,” she smiled. “We can have the family ceremony later. This is us.”
“I want to marry you,” he said. “I want it to be us.”
“You heard the man! Let’s get married!” Delilah cheered.
Queen laughed. The ceremony was quaint and quick. The judge allowed them to say their own vows, but they were both too choked with emotion to dig deep. They vowed to love each other no matter what and became man and wife.
When Maverick and Delilah returned to the ranch, they shared the news with her parents. Noah seems the least impressed. Maverick couldn’t take it all in. He’d wanted this life with her for so long, to have it felt surreal. She had met him half-way on her terms. And the man in him was strong enough to let her do it. He considered that growth for them both. Delilah came over and sat on his lap as Queen stood in the middle of the room telling everyone one of her detective tales. He had found a home.
Thank you for reading the second installment in the Cove Sisters Trilogy. Enjoy an excerpt from the final book Queen’s Surrender to be released Winter 2021.
Queen’s Surrender
FIVE O’CLOCK THIS MORNING at Baxter and Mulberry, a child’s body was recovered by the sheriff’s department. Eight-year-old Natalie Gaston has been identified as the victim. Falcon Cove’s Sherriff's office has not released any information on how the child died or how she was found. Our sources say that this scene is like the one from 2 years ago when Kiesha English was found in a well on an abandoned farm near Mayfair highway. Channel 2 news will stay close to his story and provide you updates as they develop...
Tending to the braid with meticulous care, the Guardian did not bother to look up from the head of the child mannequin as the newscaster delivered her report. Two French braids of equal precision and length were his entire focus. Once done, he reached his right and found the baby blue butterfly barrette to finish off his work. The hair masterpiece was completed. The clothes didn’t quite fit, but they were close enough in size. After inspecting his career, he reset the head on the mannequin body to join the thirteen other children he kept frozen in time. Each of them was made from plastic, some of them stolen from department stores, others ordered by him and delivered from China. They were his. He was theirs. One family. One tribe.
The Guardian entered the room and placed the newest addition to the family in the left corner. Her name was Natalie.
“Meet your sister,” he said to the others. “Nat has come to play.”
The mannequin kids with painted faces stared blankly ahead. In the Guardians' mind, he saw them all smile. “Play nice with her. She’s shy. She likes Fruity Pebbles and kittens. I will come back and check on you at lunch. Promise.”
The Guardian turned on the bulb light which hung from a string and swayed back and forth over his family. Proud of his children, he nodded his approval and then left. Outside of the room, he made sure to fasten and use the double bolt locks he had on either side of the doors. He then pushed the bookshelf in place to conceal the door passage. No one knew of his secret hiding place, and he intended to keep it that way.
A shower was his next stop, but he ventured into the guest room adjacent to his playroom before he did so. He had to light a candle for the poor little soul whose body was left behind. Mourning the flesh was customary when people didn’t understand the power of rebirth for children. The Guardian knew the truth. Natalie lived forever. He’d made sure of it. Her soul was now playing in his secret room with thirteen others.
At the altar, candles of all different sizes and heights burned. Most had melted waxed bottoms glued to the surface of the alter from burning too long. He picked up a plastic light wand that he flicked and brought forth a bright flame. He took his time to light seven more candles since Natalie was only seven when someone took her life.
And then his gaze lifted.
On the wall were hundreds of photos he’d developed himself, all of them of the Goddess. Pictures he’d taken of her shopping or jogging in her neighborhood. There were photo’s of her at the community center volunteering and others he’d taken of her when she was on the television being interviewed about a case she worked. Her name was Queen Douglas. And he loved her a lot.
“What are you doing!” A voice deeper than the devils barked at him.
He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry Peter, I was just—”
“You have work to do! So do it!” Peter demanded.
He nodded. “Yes. Yes. Right away.”
“WHAT SEEMS TO BE THE problem now?” Queen asked.
“I beg your pardon, Ms. Douglas?”
“My mother. She left three messages saying I need to come get her. She said you were starving her?” Queen sighed and threw the gearshift of her detective car into park. “What is the problem with her now?”
“I’m not sure, Ms. Douglas. Can I put you on hold?”
“Fine,” Queen mumbled.
The line clicked over to dull classical music. It made Queen think of Delilah. Since the COVID restrictions have lifted, her best friend and her new husband took Noah on a trip to Ireland. Their version of a honeymoon. With Delilah gone and Goodiva off somewhere they’d never know, it was just her. She sat outside of her childhood home staring at the dark silent house. Her mother’s calls were less and less in the institution since she had sobered and committed to the program. But Queen had been down several roads like the one she traveled now with her mother. It would not take long before her mother found a reason to get herself kicked out or made recovery so bad they demanded she leaves. She braced for the worst.
“Ms. Douglas?” a man’s voice returned to the line.
“Yes?” Queen replied.
“Hi, this is Dr. Thomas. My staff is telling me that your mother called you?”
“Is everything okay?” Queen asked.
“Oh yes, we have a new program. It’s her first week. Diet change is to be expected. The break-in patient routine is often difficult for transitioning. Today she threw her food tray at one of the aids, so she has been confined to her room for the evening. I assure you everything is under control.”
“New program? She just adapted to the first. Why are you changing things? I told you it is hard for her to stick to anything in life, including rehab. You are the sixth facility she’s been in, in the past two years.”
“I understand,” the doctor said.
“Do you? Because I’m at the end of my rope.”