Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  He couldn’t argue with that. “What do you think? Get our things together and move on to Delaware? Maybe we’ll manage to catch Fred Harris before anything happens to him.”

  Jenna snickered as the engine roared to life. “What difference does it make? Maybe whoever’s doing this is doing us a favor. I would never be angry with an exterminator for getting rid of vermin.”

  He couldn’t argue with that, though it did lead him to wonder: which of the remaining three people on their list was responsible for this? And what would happen to them if they crossed paths with this murderer?

  Chapter Twenty

  “I sorta wish we’d decided to wait until tomorrow to do this.” Jenna stretched as well as she could while sitting in the passenger seat. The truck was roomy but not roomy enough to combat six hours spent seated there.

  “You punking out on me?”

  She waved a hand, scoffing. “Please. I just want to get out of this truck. No offense, but eating those buffalo wings last night did you no favors today.”

  He cringed. “I tried to keep the windows rolled down.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s only so much fresh air can do.” She smiled to herself, though. Unpleasant odors notwithstanding, she wasn’t having a completely hateful time. It was nice, getting along like this.

  It was even nicer now that they’d kissed again, though the word kiss didn’t come close to describing it. He might as well have set fire to her soul, nothing short of that. If they ever slept together, they might actually end up tearing the room apart.

  Not a bad thought. Not even close.

  He groaned, too, stretching. “I must’ve slept like the dead last night. You should’ve woken me, I would’ve—”

  “Don’t even bother,” she cut him off. “We can share a big bed. I’m not, like, clutching my pearls at the thought.”

  “Well, either way, I don’t think I moved once. I’ve been stiff all day.” It didn’t seem like there was any double meaning to his words this time as he stretched again, rubbing his lower back.

  “Hopefully they won’t linger over dessert.” Jenna watched the restaurant where they’d followed the Harris family after staking out their house for all of three minutes. Their timing couldn’t have been better. It was now eight-thirty, and they’d been inside for over an hour.

  Jenna and Logan, meanwhile, sat in the parking lot and waited. She didn’t know why, but Jenna wanted to get a look at Frank’s family. It didn’t matter—she knew it didn’t matter—but there was still a need to do it.

  “I think I know why,” she whispered, suddenly sad.

  “Huh? Know why what?”

  “Why it matters so much. Seeing the family, I mean. Why I want to see them. Because I could be them. My dad was one of these people. There I was, all that time, practically worshipping him. He could do no wrong, you know? My hero. One of the good guys. I wonder if Frank’s kids see him the same way.”

  “Frank isn’t in the Army,” Logan reasoned. “He’s not the American hero type.”

  “A guy doesn’t have to be a legit hero to be a hero in the eyes of his kids,” she murmured.

  “You’re right, of course.” He took her hand, wrapping gentle fingers around it. Tentative fingers. “Is that why you glared at Leslie earlier?”

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” she sighed. “Yeah. I guess so. There’s so much I’ll never know unless Dad gets better, which is doubtful. That sort of brain damage doesn’t reverse itself out of nowhere. His brain was without oxygen for too long.”

  “I understand. I wish there was something I could do to make it better.”

  “Me too,” she admitted, and she believed him, too, which went at least part of the way toward making things better. He really did want to ease some of her burden, to take away the pain. A shame there was no way to do that.

  Although she certainly hadn’t been thinking about pain when they were kissing. Not even close.

  It was a shame he’d taken off his suit. While he looked great wearing just about anything, to the point that it was almost unfair, that suit had taken him over the top. And his tie, holy cow. The things she could do to him with that tie.

  Granted, she had no experience with that sort of thing. Nothing firsthand, anyway. A lonely girl knew how to find materials to ease the lonely times, but still. Watching or reading and actually doing weren’t the same.

  But she was willing to try. More than willing, so long as he was willing too.

  “What are you thinking of?” he asked.

  “Nothing in particular,” she lied through her teeth. “Why?”

  “You had a funny look on your face. Like you were thinking of…”

  “Of what?”

  “Something sexy or at least naughty.”

  “You’ve got to stop paying such close attention to me,” she laughed.

  “Not a chance.” And he wasn’t laughing. No, he was very serious. Her heart fluttered when their eyes locked, and he let out a long, slow sigh that made her cheeks flush. It had been a long time for him too. No wonder he could barely contain himself.

  “Easy, killer,” she chuckled, trying her best not to seem like she was shooting him down when she wanted to do anything but. “We’re on a stakeout. Remember?”

  He chuckled. “A stakeout. You make it sound so professional.”

  “You’re a professional. This is what you do. Isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, sure. But still. You’re very earnest, and I don’t mean that as an insult. It’s cute, actually.”

  “Ew.” Her nose wrinkled.

  “You don’t like being called cute? Newsflash. You are. That’s just how it is.”

  “Ew, gross,” she grimaced. “No, I don’t want to be cute. Little girls are cute.”

  “What would you rather be called? Do you have anything in mind?” He was playing with her, obviously, and playing along was better than sitting in silence, waiting for the family to finish eating their dinner.

  She drew herself up to her full height in the seat, casting a look at him over the bridge of her nose with her head thrown back. “Formidable,” she decided.

  She could tell he wanted to laugh—his poker face hadn’t gotten any better in the days since she first met him face-to-face. To his credit, he managed to keep a straight face, nodding slowly. “I can see that,” he generously replied. “You’re definitely formidable. That’s a word that fits you, for sure.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured with a wink.

  “Of course, there are other words I can think of.”

  Her laughter rang out, making him laugh, too. “Oh, I’m sure. You don’t need to tell me.”

  “But I want to!”

  “That’s a shame.” She was still chuckling when she turned her attention back to the restaurant—and her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of a man, woman, and a teenaged girl stepping out the front door. “There they are!”

  It was like flipping a switch. They were both all business, the truck’s cab going silent. A light rain had started to fall, a sheet of mist coming down. Fred Harris—a man in his middle age, fifty-five, well-groomed but not exactly fit and trim—stuck his head out from under the awning attached to the building. His wife and daughter, who may as well have been mirror images of each other, waited behind him.

  He held up a hand, turning to his wife to say something before jogging out into the parking lot. He would get the car for them. “What a prince,” Jenna muttered under her breath.

  “It fascinates me.”

  “What does?”

  “The way these people can compartmentalize their lives. I mean, it’s easy to think of them as being all monster all the time. I’ve asked myself how can they possibly have friends? How can they exist in society? Can’t people tell from a distance how rotten they are inside? How empty?”

  “They aren’t empty. Not all of them.” She turned to him, noticing the hard line of his jaw, the flaring of his nostrils. “Let’s think about what we learned in Roanoke
. Jack Douglas almost had his house broken into, and odds are somebody rigged his car to… I don’t know. It did something, malfunctioned somehow. Maybe not all of these people tried to kill us. Maybe it’s just one or two of them. Jack wasn’t as keen on the plans as the others, which was why he had to be silenced.”

  The sight of Fred—hurrying to his car, fumbling for his keys before sliding inside—drew her attention. “What do people do when they realize everything they’ve been working toward was a lie from the beginning? What do they do when they have to look at themselves in the mirror and come to terms with the evil they caused? Either they double down and go all-in to cover up for themselves, or they have doubts. They back away. They don’t want any part of it anymore. That was my dad. I know you think I’m only saying this because I want to defend him,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “But that’s not entirely it. It’s not that I want to defend him. It’s just that now, looking at their lives… They all have something to lose. Something to protect.”

  “Like your father was trying to protect you?”

  “Is that so terrible?” They exchanged a sharp look, and in Jenna’s heart, she mourned the fact that they were getting along so well and seemed to be letting everything fall apart. Again.

  He broke eye contact, giving her a chance to breathe, and nodded out the windshield toward the pair of women waiting beneath the awning. “Are you going to tell me she doesn’t remind you of yourself? The girl?”

  “Don’t put words into my mouth,” she warned. “That’s not fair.”

  His brows drew together, lowering, his icy eyes going colder than ever. She steeled herself for a fight, but it was a fight that never came.

  What drew her attention first? Was it the earsplitting boom? Or the blinding flash of light? Maybe it was both, the explosion tearing through Fred Harris’s Mercedes and sending a ball of fire into the air.

  It was enough to drown out Jenna’s screams as Logan threw himself over her, covering her body with his while bits of burning metal and heaven only knew what else rained down all around them. “You’re safe! You’re safe! It’s all right!” She could barely hear him over the sound of her heart thumping, blood rushing in her ears, and her screams—screams which didn’t seem to want to stop.

  And they saw it. They saw all of it. His family.

  And their screams rang out too, shrieks for help, both of them calling his name over and over. Jenna could see over Logan’s shoulder as Fred’s wife pulled her daughter away from the burning car, begging her to keep her distance while wailing for her husband.

  Logan pulled his head back, searching her. “Are you all right?” he barked, bringing to mind a soldier on the field of battle. She nodded, mute, allowing him to turn his attention from her to his car’s Bluetooth system. He punched the screen, calling Doc.

  “What’s the matter?” Doc asked, his voice filling the cabin.

  “We’ve got a problem here,” Logan muttered, starting the truck. “A big problem.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Logan looked over the faces of his team members, all of them part of the video chat he’d started upon settling in at their latest motel. This one had a room with two double beds at least.

  And on one of them was Jenna, lying on her side with her back to him. He could barely pay attention to what was going on with the team, too wrapped up in her, wanting to comfort her, to at least check in on her and make sure she wasn’t completely catatonic after what they’d seen.

  “Somebody’s taking them out for us,” Braxton summed up. “I don’t know if I should thank them or what.”

  “Yes, somebody’s taking them out.” Logan forced himself to snap out of it, to turn his attention to what really mattered. Jenna would be there; she wasn’t going anywhere. He had to report the situation to his team. That was what mattered more.

  Besides, she’d described herself as formidable, and she wasn’t lying. He knew she could get through this.

  Or was he only telling himself what he wanted to believe?

  “Hang on a second.” Val looked uncomfortable like she was about to say something she knew wouldn’t be well received. “No offense or anything, but how did that happen right under your nose? Weren’t you in the parking lot the entire time the family was inside the restaurant? You followed them there.”

  She was right. What she said was not well received. His fists tightened beyond the view of the laptop’s camera, and he was glad for it. They’d all worked together too long to let a brief flareup of resentment get in the way. No matter how he believed he deserved to be a little resentful.

  “We weren’t parked right next to the car,” he informed her in as even a tone as he could manage. “I realize you haven’t spent a lot of time in the field, but that’s your first lesson. You don’t park on top of the person you’re surveilling.”

  Everybody winced, including Val. “I didn’t mean—” she sputtered.

  “Whatever. That doesn’t matter. The fact is, yes, it had to have been done while Jenna and I were watching the restaurant. It wouldn’t have taken much—somebody walking past, slipping something up under the wheel well. It didn’t have to happen when he started the car. Motion from the tire could have been what set it off, as he started to back out of the spot. With it being dark and the rain, I think it’s perfectly reasonable that we didn’t see the device being planted.”

  “Of course,” Doc agreed. While one part of Logan appreciated the way he tried to smooth things over, the other part wished he didn’t sound so much like a patronizing father, saying whatever needed to be said to make everybody happy.

  Logan was their leader, dammit, not the one to be soothed. Not the one to have his boo-boos kissed.

  “Anyway, we’re on our way to Philadelphia tomorrow. I don’t know anymore whether we’re doing this to surveil all the families and get a feel for the individuals we’re looking for or if I’m going there to deliver a warning.”

  “Why would you want to warn them?” Sledge looked skeptical, to say the least.

  “Because Fred Harris’s wife and daughter might’ve been in that car. The only thing that stopped them from being killed along with him tonight was the fact that it was raining, and he wanted to bring the car to them. Even then, they could’ve run out with him. It wasn’t raining all that hard. They were innocent, just like the families of these other people are also innocent. Whoever is behind this doesn’t care about that anymore. They want everyone wiped out no matter what it takes.”

  “Yeah, if that robbery at the Douglas house had gone through, who’s to say what would’ve happened to the wife and kids?” Jace mused.

  “Exactly. They’re the ones I’m worried about now.”

  “But we still don’t know which of the remaining two people are behind this,” Zane pointed out most helpfully, as if Logan hadn’t thought of it already.

  “All we can do is take a chance. This is what feels right to me. If any of you disagree, now’s the time to tell me so. Your point will be heard, but it won’t change my mind.”

  “And what about Jenna?” Val asked. It was clear she was still smarting from Logan’s sharp words, and he was angry with himself for losing his temper. It was beneath him. He wasn’t that man.

  Or maybe he was. Maybe he was only kidding himself when he thought otherwise.

  “I’m fine.” It was roughly as much as Jenna had said since they’d left the restaurant parking lot, pulling out just before emergency vehicles began pouring in. She’d been like a zombie since then, allowing him to take control. He practically had to carry her from the truck to their room.

  He glanced her way and shrugged for the benefit of the others on the call. “She knows the stakes. She understands. After what happened earlier, there isn’t much room for doubt. The person behind this wants no one left behind. If that means killing the family too—collateral damage, nothing more.”

  “How much does a mind need to unravel before it gets to the point where this seems reasonable?” He kne
w Doc’s question was rhetorical, but that didn’t stop him from wondering too. How far did a person need to fall? How much space did they need to place between themselves and their conscience? Or did they simply forget they had one at all?

  Or did they compartmentalize like he’d said before, telling themselves what they did was for the best?

  “Get some rest,” Doc advised. “God knows you’ve been through enough already.”

  “I’ll check in tomorrow.” He closed the laptop with a sigh, looking over to where Jenna hadn’t moved a muscle. Was there a way to get through to her? Something he could say to make it better?

  What was there to possibly say?

  “At least they weren’t in the car,” he murmured.

  “No—now, they’ll just both have to live the rest of their lives with the memory of watching him getting blown sky-high. I don’t know if I would rather live or not if that was me.” She sounded dead, flat, a departure from the spirited, sharp-tongued girl he’d come to know like a candle that had its flame blown out.

  “We can’t think too much about them. I know it sounds cruel, but it’s for our own good. We can’t do our job here if—”

  “What is our job here?” She rolled over on the bed, glaring at him. “Why are we even here anymore? Why are we doing this?”

  “Because whoever is behind this is still crossing items off their to-do list, only this isn’t a to-do list. It’s a list of names of people who need to be eliminated, the people they need to kill. They’re not going to stop with just their colleagues. You know it. They already tried to kill you and your father, and God only knows what they’ll do to try to kill my team. We can’t afford to lose focus now, no matter what happens.”

  A range of emotions washed over her face, but it seemed like no single one of them won out over the others. She flopped onto her back, hands folded over her stomach. “They’re ahead of us. Whoever’s doing this, they’re two steps ahead of us all the time.”

  “And maybe that doesn’t matter,” Logan shrugged. “Think of it this way: if they kill one or the other of these last two people, we’ll know who has been organizing all of this. Right? Maybe they really are doing our work for us.”