Trying to hide her irritation, she unfolded the picture and examined it. "A traffic cam photo?"
The image was too grainy to actually recognize either the face or the car.
He nodded as he drank more of the beer, maybe searching for his own normalcy. There was none.
She looked at the date stamp. It was several weeks old. "It's not Elliot."
Tierney shoved the page back but he slid it toward her one more time rejecting her attempt to return it. "Look again. Do you know this person?"
"He looks a little like one of the guys who worked for Elliot. But I don't even know what that means. I can't tell for certain and I haven't seen Barker in over a decade."
"You told me, one of the guys you dated had been in a car accident."
With those words, Tierney caught on. If she didn't like where this was going, at least she was prepared. It wasn’t a new thought. She'd let herself believe that the police department would have alerted her if there had been anything strange about Ronan's accident. When no one had said anything, she'd sat back, thinking it was merely a horrible coincidence.
"This is from your accident?" she asked, though she didn't need to. She recognized the date and she'd heard about the white paint on the side of his truck from the SUV that had hit him. Somehow it completely T boned him and then managed to leave the scene of the accident.
She paused for a moment, her fingers rubbing along the paper for some tactile sensation to ground her thoughts. "There aren't cameras at that intersection."
He shook his head no, agreeing with her. "But I know which direction he came from. So I had Gomez look it up. This is him. This is the only white car on record that night and the timing fits. He was two blocks away from the accident and speeding up. Thank God, they got this shot."
She'd wondered about it all before but it just seemed like phenomenal bad luck or a curse. Ronan had gotten hit almost to the date from when Siorse and Paddy had been killed.
But Ronan wasn't done with her.
"Also, you should know that someone just threw an effigy into the fire station. It was on fire."
"In the bay?" She was so confused. "Someone just burned an effigy in the fire station?"
He set the beer down, twisting the bottle in his fingers. The nervous gesture telling her there was more to this than he was saying.
"What, Ronan?"
"It wasn't a big deal. The guys put it right out."
"But?" she pressed.
"It was dressed in handmade clothing made to look like turnout gear. And it said Kelly across the back."
It took her a moment to absorb the hit. Of course, it said that. It was supposed to let them all know that Ronan could burn. That meant Elliot was here today.
"When was this?" she asked.
"Right before I came here. I wanted to tell you before you heard from anyone else."
She nodded slowly. This sucked, but maybe he would understand the real level of threat. Elliot was here now, or at least someone working for him was. Someone willing to commit crimes for him.
That was when Ronan told her about the chief coming out the door with smoke behind him.
"Wait, so the effigy in the bay was just a distraction?"
Ronan nodded. "They burned the bunk room."
The place where the firefighters slept. But if the person—Elliot?—had gotten inside the room to light it, then they'd known no one was in there asleep. Right? She had to ask. "Was anyone hurt?"
He shook his head. "It's embarrassing to have your own fire station catch on fire."
Yes, that was it.
"And you were there?" she pushed. This was Elliot.
"I was next door." He looked down, twisting the beer bottle again. "I went to report the cat from this morning."
She nodded. Unable to hold back, she told him, "Thank you. I should have done that."
But she wasn't finished. Elliot, or whoever it was, had thrown the effigy into the bay on fire. It seemed the fire was less the point of the whole thing and more to get the firefighters out of the back. She needed more information. "How did he get in?"
Ronan shrugged, took another sip of the beer and set it, now finished, back on the counter as he stood up. "That's just it. We can't figure it out."
When she didn't say anything else, he nodded at her and tried to pay for the beer. But she rejected that as sternly as she rejected him. He only nodded and said, "I thought you should know," before he headed out the door.
She watched him leave, her heart breaking all over again. She loved him. But being near her was clearly making him a target.
The events of today sounded exactly like Elliot. He loved to make it clear that he could get to anyone she loved and he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Tierney had lied. She told Dad Doyle that she was fine and everything was good when she left the bar in his hands for the evening.
It was a good lie, things looked normal. Dad Doyle had showed up in the middle of the afternoon. As per their usual routine, they traded everything out. Tierney took her cash tray and counted it. She told him what they were low on and which deliveries had arrived and which hadn't. All the mundane things of her everyday life.
This life wasn't the one she had aspired to, but it was the one she was more than happy to have. Today had been less than stellar though and it was pissing her off.
She'd seen a high-end sports car go blazing down the street just before dad had come in. No one in Redemption owned a car like that, everyone would have known about it. The very presence of it on her street had raised prickles of alarm. Then, when she'd let herself out the back door, she'd walked across the small employee lot and felt that sensation again.
On the drive home, she saw the sports car again.
It crept up slowly, coming closer and closer behind her. She told herself it was just a driver not paying attention as it snuck up near and then drifted back several cars. Then it would come closer again. She should ignore it.
Then the car had gotten close enough that Tierney could see the driver. Elliot grinned at her from behind the wheel and waved.
Suddenly frantic to get away, she pressed her foot more forcefully on the gas pedal than she intended making her car leap forward.
Rookie mistake.
Don't let Elliot see panic.
He laughed, she could see it in her mirror. The move had been too stupid to not be noticeable. He managed to stay almost bumper to bumper behind her on the small town roads as her heart raced. He was here. He was right behind her. He had been watching as she left the bar.
The light changed and she was forced to stop. Her breathing seemed to stop with the car, her eyes almost squeezing shut. But she couldn't afford to not look. If he got out of the car and came after her—if he tried to kill her now—she needed to be alert. It might be her only chance to get away.
She willed herself to be calm, not that it worked. But she wasn't going to get murdered or have a car chase in the middle of her hometown.
"You can do this, Tee," she told herself, using the nickname that Ronan had bestowed upon her.
With a determined breath she headed straight through the light, though normally she would have turned. Not that anything so mundane would deter Elliot. He'd already left enough dead things on her porch.
Only as she headed the long way around did it occur to her than it was painfully obvious he already knew where she lived. Still, he had taken the turn, heading right back into her neighborhood with a faster route than she was now taking. Fuck.
She was finally alone on the street—or at least without Elliot. But now he was heading straight to her house and she wasn't. Should she just drive around aimlessly? Take her chances that he could get inside and actually get to Mr. Kittens and the babies this time?
It was an easy decision and Tierney cranked the wheel, trying not to peel out as she did. She had to beat him there. As she squealed around the last corner, she slammed on her brakes then managed to jus
t slow the car enough to not act like a complete maniac. Though her reasons were good, no one else would know that and acting crazy would only support Elliot's claims when he told everyone she was the problem. She'd been here before ...
She moved slower, hating that she had to be safe when she knew he was anything but. This was her neighborhood. There were kids here and she breathed a little easier as she scanned the street and didn't see the sports car. If he'd come through, he'd already gone.
Or maybe he'd ditched the car and was walking to her house. She couldn't help imagining the worst. Looking around nervously, Tierney did the thing she promised herself she wouldn't do. She let herself be afraid. There was no way to fight this spike of adrenaline from knowing that he was near.
Slamming into her own driveway and blazing out of the car, she barely got the door slammed behind her as she jammed her key into the front door lock. Undoing the first bolt, she then went for the second. Tierney barely made it inside before vomiting up her lunch in the closest trashcan. Finally standing upright, alone in her own home—or at least she thought she was alone—she took a deep breath hoping to clear her system out.
Then her stomach rolled again. The fear heaved up, as she doubled over and lost even more of what she'd eaten. Acid burned the back of her mouth and fear stung her eyes.
When at last her stomach was empty, she headed into the bathroom and used the shower to clean out the trash can. Leaving it wet in the empty tub, she shuffled to the sink, her limbs shaking as she pulled out the toothpaste and brushed her teeth. Eyes darting everywhere she tried to focus on the mundane task. But she was petrified that she would lean over to spit and, when she stood up, she would see him in the mirror over her shoulder.
She turned and put her back to the sink, but now was afraid he could appear in the frosted glass window above the vanity. The house was so small, even the laundry room had a window. Was there anywhere she could escape him?
She desperately wanted to call Ronan, to have him come and be a welcoming second warm body ... and be Ronan. But that was absolutely the worst thing she could do. She had no doubt that Elliot was tracing her calls. Hell, he might even have someone in the police department working on his side. She couldn't call anyone without having to assume that Elliot knew what she was doing before they even answered.
She needed a burner phone. She needed to buy it in cash in case he was tracing her purchases, too.
With her mouth finally tasting of mint, and her shakes at least mostly under control, she moved her way around the house. She grabbed the bat and checked first on Mr. Kittens and the snack babies. The babies didn't react in the slightest, and the big orange tabby only looked at her as if she were a little out of her mind. After patting their heads, which calmed her more than she expected, she resumed her check.
She double-checked the knives in the block. After finding every weapon she'd hidden, she touched the gun that still rested at her hip. Without thinking twice, she moved the safety strap aside which she should have done first. Then, she checked the house again, this time looking in every closet, under every bed, and behind every curtain. She was in the laundry room at the back of the house, leaning over the washer and peering through the sheer curtain, trying to determine if anything had happened in the backyard, when the knock came.
For a moment just the sound froze her solid, every muscle stiffening and reacting. Then she reminded herself it could be anyone.
Dad was at the bar, but it could be Mom Doyle. Hell, it could even be Ronan, even though she'd told him to stay away. It could be Talia. It could even be the new vet, Zadie, wanting to check on the kittens. Telling herself it was any of these non-lethal options, Tierney made herself move to the front door.
As she passed the living room window—with the sheers still closed from when she had left that morning—a quick glance revealed the shiny sleek sports car in her driveway. It sat right behind her own car, blocking her in and making a safe escape impossible.
It was Elliot and he was here.
Reaching down, she flipped the safety on the gun. Tierney knew she was more likely to shoot her own toes off but, frankly, she didn't care—as long as she also shot Elliot. Still, she couldn't just open the door and fire at him. What if she hit a kid across the street? What if Elliot died? The Vander clefs would make sure she rotted in the worst of prisons, and that she never saw Sean again. They would claim custody of their grandson—one of Tierney's worst fears.
So she lifted the hem of her shirt, just enough to make the gun easier to access but not quite enough to fully reveal it, she hoped. Then she took a fortifying breath and stepped to the door, knowing that Elliot Vander clef stood on the other side of the heavy wood. Reminding herself he didn’t want to kill her, she lifted the bolt, grabbed the knob, and opened the door.
There he stood, his hair as blonde as she remembered. His blue eyes bright, his smile wide and white and perfect. Now, all the charm had given way to the evil she could see underneath. His grin was genuine as he saw her, and that was maybe even more terrifying.
His eyes sparkled as he greeted her. "Hello, Emmie Baby."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Ronan had driven around town almost aimlessly. He told himself he was looking for Elliot Vander clef in every face on the sidewalk, in every strange person in every shop on Main Street. He knew the residents of this town better than most. He'd been in far too many of their homes over the years. He told himself he was the perfect man for the job.
He didn't see anything helpful, but he did pull over to field a call from his doctor's office. Unfortunately, they were rescheduling his appointment to get cleared to go back to work. Ronan reluctantly agreed to push it back one day. He was so close that each extra day seemed an eternity but there was nothing he could do. Even more irritated than he'd been when he started this drive, he hung up the phone and resumed driving around.
He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Of the people he didn't recognize, several were women and two were men who were old enough and frail enough that they couldn't possibly be Vander clef. Ronan got the feeling that Tierney knew something she hadn't told him. Since he had no idea what that might be, and no proof that she was actually holding back, he couldn't pressure her to tell him. It wasn't as if she was talking to him anyway.
When all of this was over, would she go back to being Emily Gallagher? Would she move back to New York? Introduce her parents to Sean—the grandchild they had never even met. Maybe they didn't know her child's name, or even that he was a boy.
Ronan hoped that wasn't the case. From what she'd told him before, however, it seemed the most likely. She'd cut off all contact so that Vander clef couldn't track her. But he had anyway.
Ronan still felt a scorching need to protect her, no matter what her choices were.
His phone rang again and he dreaded answering it. Though it was probably bad news, he wasn't going to let it go to voicemail. Pulling over as he put the phone to his ear, he said, "Hello?" with no idea who was on the other end of the line.
"Hey man! I got something to let you in on."
It took a moment to figure out the voice belonged to officer Gomez. "A new development in the case?"
"Yeah. We've got your guy down here and we're questioning him right now."
"You have Vander clef?" Ronan was startled, and glad he wasn’t driving. Looking around, he headed down the block to park at the gas station there.
"Sorry, no,” Gomez told him. “Harris was following up on the rats."
"That's been a while," Ronan said, then immediately regretted that it sounded accusatory. They were just now checking that out? And who did they even have if not Vander clef?
"I know." The tone was an apology. "Manpower and all that."
Ronan understood, but he stayed quiet and let the officer continue.
"You said that the rats looked clean and pale, not like wild rats. So we followed up with the pet store but it took a while. They had to pull a ton of receipts and so on ... anyway, we
have sales to Wayne Davies for one rat each time. He bought the rats approximately twelve to fifteen hours prior to them appearing on Tierney's doorstep."
"Davies?" Ronan asked. That didn't make any sense. Though the man had never struck Ronan as anything other than a grade A asshole, why would he do that Tierney? What was happening at her house was positively psychopathic.
"It's him. He admitted he bought them. But, he says somebody paid him for information on Tierney. He told them he had an in with the family—"
"Hold on." Ronan felt a twist in his gut. "He said he had an 'in' with the family?"
"Said he knew your wife, knew the Doyle girls, or something like that."
None of this was processing. Ronan knew Tierney disliked Wayne Davies, but she'd never said why. Maybe this was it. Maybe they had some kind of history. At least that piece stitched together, even if he didn't understand the details just yet. But he still couldn't quite place Wayne getting the rats ... And what about the cat?
"Davies said he didn't know what the animals were for," Gomez continued. "He claims he bought them and handed them off."
But to who? Ronan didn't get to ask, he needed to be listening. For whatever reason, this seemed important.
"The pet store clerk noticed him buying these feeder rats, so she asked him about his snake. He'd said it was a viper, which she thought was odd. No one keeps Vipers, unless they know what they are doing. So she thought maybe he just had pet rats and didn't want to say. Regardless, it was weird."
It was that, Ronan thought. Had Gomez stitched enough of the pieces together? Ronan thought there were still too many gaping holes. "He gave them to Vander clef?"
"That's just it," Gomez said. "From what he just told me, he's never even seen Vander clef. He gave the rats to some other guy."
Down in Flames (Wildfire Hearts Book 5) Page 15