Secure Again

by R L Dunn

  The group rehashed the case one more time before heading out to their assignments.

  Julian brought Elizabeth to the hotel the Chase group controlled. Dark circles rested beneath her eyes after Troy's latest surgery. Kieran had arranged for a private meal in his suite. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

  "Water is fine." Elizabeth slid her leg beneath her as she sat on his couch. "Did Marty kill my father?"

  "What do you think?"

  Elizabeth sipped her water. "No. Forgive me, I've been lied to in the past. Did he kill my father?"

  "No."

  Elizabeth nodded. "I assume, if he did not kill my father, you did not fire him either?" Kieran's expression remained neutral. "Kieran, my father was an evil man. Even before I found out about his betrayal of me and my relationship with Martin, he betrayed my mother with his infidelities. I grew up hearing rumors of money for favors.

  "Marty and I talked a lot. He told me about the trust my father created. I think Tibby's daughters are my half-sisters. Since my father didn't have a spark of decency, I also think he stole my prescription pads for one of his deals. Or he stole them to further destroy my reputation? One thing I can be sure of, my father was a creature of habit.” Elizabeth took a long drink. Tilting her head, she said, “Marty trusts you. Can I?" Her amethyst eyes begged for an answer.

  "On my life. If you don't believe for you, then believe it for Lola. Before we go further, for your safety and Lola’s, Martin assigned me temporary guardianship of Lola.”

  “I understand.” Her voice was thick with emotion.

  "My father never did anything without a back-up plan. I removed this from my father's den today." She passed Kieran the camera. "The police did a lousy search. I would like to go back there tomorrow. I'm sure his collection goes back for years."

  "I believe your father underestimated you, Beth." Kieran walked over to the desk to open his laptop.

  "Is that a compliment?" She met him at the table.

  "Turning your back on Martin and the tears. It was quite a performance."

  "The tears were real. But not because I thought Marty murdered my father and Hal." Elizabeth took a deep breath. "I promised to trust him, us. I didn't do it twenty years ago. I won't make that mistake again. I need Marty like I need my next breath. He had a plan.

  "I think this whole mess is connected to my patient, Royce Mills. I believe Royce is Troy or Greece, the same SEAL Martin carried off a mountain with kidney stones. I think he holds the key to this, but his condition is grave; he can't help." Her eyes filled with tears. "I promise, I will keep fighting for him. I fear it’s not enough."

  "Did you do your best work?"

  "Yes, but..."

  "But nothing. No one can ask more from you than your best." Kieran's lips curved up. "Beth, you’re an impressive woman. I will remind my chief executive officer of that when we bring him home. Troy "Greece" Bremen works for us. Before Austin was shot, Chase Security was asked to investigate issues at the Silverton Jail. Troy was placed there undercover after Austin and Lissa were found."

  Elizabeth turned gray.

  "Beth?" Kieran moved to her side.

  "Prisoner abuse. I was right. I’m sure the guards hurt Troy. Marty's life is in danger," her voice shook.

  "We’re aware, and Martin is aware. He's in protective custody. We have a team in the jail."

  Elizabeth pursed her lips. "When Troy regains consciousness, what can I say to win his trust?"

  "An operator working undercover uses three code words or phrases. One for the mission—dinner and a show. One for duress—Greece is burning. And one between his mission control and him to be used to gain rapid trust. Martin is his control. The secret is between them."

  Kieran grabbed a file from the table. "Elizabeth, I would like to discuss the letters you sent to the Department of Corrections." Her explanations were contained and guarded. "This is Alden McAllister?"

  "He isn't familiar." None of the guards were familiar to Elizabeth either. She flipped through the stack of police pictures. Elizabeth identified Trip Mathias. "He used to work for Daddy. He was at the hospital when...when I lost Marty's and my Grace."

  "I'm sorry." Kieran put a photo of Thibodaux Spooner on the table.

  Elizabeth chuckled. "When he was Cicely Moody, Marty said she looked like Ichabod Crane. She worked as Daddy's assistant. When I called about the abuse, Tibby sounded happy to hear from me." She shook her head.

  The last picture was of Clay Jenner. It was clearer than the one Martin showed her. Elizabeth ran a finger over it. "Oh, God. This can't be true." Elizabeth stood. "Clay Jenner. Tell me. No..." She ran deeper into the suite, seeking the bathroom.

  Kieran ran after finding her in the bathroom vomiting. "Beth?" She was shaking. "I need a medic."

  As senior staff piled into the room, Pete Walter pushed through the group. "Give me some space. Beth, talk to me." He dampened a hand towel and placed it on the back of her neck. "Let me help you." Her eyes were empty and distant as Pete walked her to the second bedroom.

  "Pete, do you want an ambulance?" Julian called to him.

  "Bring me my bag, Julian. Honey, tell me what's wrong? Tate, find Hedges, now. Julian, stay with her." Pete helped her lie on her side. "I'll be right back."

  In the hall, Pete demanded, "What happened, Kieran?” Kieran explained the photograph and her reaction. “You need to find out who Clay Jenner is to Elizabeth."

  Joyce joined them.

  "We need to speak to Austin. If anyone knows, it would be him," Tate said.

  When Kieran dialed the hospital, Austin came on the PA's line. "It's Kieran Chase. Elizabeth Reed collapsed."

  "What did you do to her? Marty will never forgive you."

  "Austin, listen to me. Clay Jenner. Does that name mean anything to you?"

  Sarcastic, Austin said, "You mean the illustrious head of the Department of Corrections?"

  "Damn it, Bailey. Why would a picture of Clay Jenner upset Elizabeth? I'm sending you the picture."

  Austin grew quiet after the transmission. "Holy shit, how did we all miss this?"

  "Miss what?" Kieran's voice rose.

  "The face is different, but those eyes. Did Marty see this picture?"

  "I don't know. Bailey, spit it out."

  "Clay Jenner is Lewis James. I guess her daddy kept another secret. Lewis James was a year older than Marty. Damn, his given name is Clay Lewis James. Jenner—he idolized Bruce Jenner. Viewed himself as a star athlete. Chase, you need to get Marty out of there." Austin's breathing quickened.

  "I’m working on it." Kieran sagged into the chair after he hung up. "Clay Jenner is Elizabeth's ex-husband, Lewis James. Tate, Mike, put together the mission; we need Martin out of there. I'll call Ian."

  Kieran stood at the bedroom’s doorway, feeling helpless, while Joyce crawled into bed with her friend. "Beth, c'mon, talk to me. Lewis can't hurt you anymore."

  "Not me, but he'll kill Marty. They'll hurt him like Troy." She held on to Joyce.

  "Who's Troy?" Joyce asked Pete.

  Kieran walked in. "We’ll get him out of there as soon as we can, Beth."

  Elizabeth stared at the wall. "Twenty years ago, Lewis was promised things. My father always kept his promises. Twenty years later, my father needed me out of the way, and Martin interfered again. Even from the grave, he'll kill him." She reached for the trash pail and threw up again.

  Kieran's lips pressed together into a tight white line. "Not on my watch. I won't let him. Pete, tell us what you need."

  Pete drew some blood and started an IV. He injected some anti-nausea meds that would also help her sleep.

  Mike and Kieran sat together in the living area. "Reed had a hidden camera. Before we go further, we need to look at it."

  "You think the murders are on it, Boss?"

  "I hope so. Here goes nothing." He fast-forwarded until the approximate time of Martin's arrival. "They're dead." He rewound the movie until the den was empty and pushed play.
r />   Talbot Reed walked into his den. "Talbot, come on. You promised me," Celine McAllister's voice called from outside the room.

  "Celli, I told you. Tibby, Hal, and Cecile are coming over. We have business to discuss. I promise, precious, I'll make it up to you. In fact, we have some time. Come here, sugar." Talbot Reed slipped out of his jacket and tie as Celine entered the frame. He patted the desk.

  Kieran and Mike recoiled as Talbot Reed pressed Celine onto her back and proceeded to perform oral sex. Then she reciprocated. "Do not let Elizabeth see this," Mike choked.

  The video continued, "Go clean yourself up. They should be here soon."

  "What’s so important that it can't wait until tomorrow?"

  "Sugar, this is difficult. I found some things about Hal that aren't pleasant."

  "Worse than he hired that Post-it note loon, Hailey?" Celine looked at her nails.

  "Oh, sugar, much worse. Sick, perverse. I wondered why Hal dropped the lawsuit. I knew he wanted vengeance. He would be looking at a ton of money. I got curious, got ahold of samples. He's the daddy of Viola's dead baby. Those Chase boys are digging. If they find out, he'll talk to save his sorry ass. We don't need them interfering with our other business."

  "What are you planning?" Celine’s eyes widened.

  "Kill two birds with one stone." Talbot, using a handkerchief, reached into his drawer, withdrawing the P228. "That Bailey boy left this behind years ago. With some luck, his prints are still on it. Hal will be shot in my den, a sorry case of mistaken identity." His smile was pure evil. The doorbell rang. "Celine, go answer the door. Take Tibby and Cecile for a walk."

  Talbot sat with Hal, engaging in small talk and sharing a drink, when Cecile stormed into the room. "You sick bastard." Her fierce palm connected with Hal's face. Celine followed her sister into the room.

  "And you," Celine angered at Talbot. "The letter you waived in Bailey's face. The reason he was so angry with you. Elizabeth was a child. Not much older than my sweet niece Viola. How could you?"

  Cecile Dufour picked up the gun. "Talbot Reed and Hal Dufour, for your crimes against your daughters, I sentence you both to death." She held them at gunpoint. "Don't either of you think about moving. Celine, call Irvin, tell him to send Pellegrino and Forrester." Cecile fired four shots in rapid succession through a book from the coffee table, killing both men in silence.

  Mike's head drew back. "That is one cold woman."

  Cecile put the gun on the table. "Celine, take the car and head out the north pasture; a car can't be seen from there. Irvin will signal you when to come back. Tibby, we can hide in the attic until the cops leave."

  Thibodaux bit and wet his lips. "The two of you, do you realize what you did? You shut off the trust for my girls."

  "What do you mean?" Cecile stared at her handiwork.

  "You two are rocket scientists. Talbot is their father."

  Celine laughed. "That fucker. He slept with each of us."

  The camera filmed the dead men for twenty minutes, then, "Talbot Reed."

  "Farmer's voice. He should have turned around then and there. What was that?" There was a tinkle of glass. "Damn it, Martin said he heard something break." There were forty seconds of quiet.

  "He's heavy," Thibodaux's voice complained.

  "Tibby, stop whining. The two of us can lift a two-hundred-pound man. You were always a drama queen," Cecile's voice yelled. "C'mon, we’re almost there." The two came into frame, dragging Martin. "This will work out better than we planned. Drop him here."

  "We need more than the gun. We need gunshot residue. Blood," Tibby said.

  "Tibby, open the window. I'll reload the gun, and when he starts to wake, call 911. I'll fire four shots, and then we can head upstairs. We'll call Irvin from there."

  Tibby put Cecile's words into action, opening the window.

  "It shouldn't be too long; I gave him some of that elephant tranquilizer Alden uses to fix the problems," she said.

  Thibodaux paced, and a calm Cecile sat in Talbot's desk chair. Every so often, she got up and toed Martin's ribs. She sighed. "What a waste. You’re a real specimen of a man. You'd make great movies." She dropped Martin's weapon in her bag. Another twenty minutes passed before Martin groaned.

  Tibby stopped walking. "C'mon."

  Mike sighed. "There's the missing half hour." The video kept playing.

  "Calm down." Cecile called 911 on Talbot's phone before she let it fall to the floor beneath his hand. Cold and unemotional, she dipped a finger in his blood and dripped it from his hand onto the phone then she wrapped Martin's hand around the gun and fired four shots through the open window. She closed it, and they left the room.

  "I think I’m going to be sick." Kieran ran his hand through his hair. "Mike, call Zach. Reach out to our team; I want eyes on Martin. I'm calling Cordelia Snow."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Thursday, August 27th

  Martin lay in the pitch-black cell. With no distraction and the darkness, his senses sharpened, and the file played in front of his eyes. He pictured each photograph, starting at the top of the chain—Todd Duran and Brynn Hackman. Brynn Hackman, #1. He repeated every conversation they shared, going back to the first time they met.

  He was at Quantico with Zach, attending the FBI's national academy for the latest techniques in the law enforcement industry. He had completed the infamous Yellow Brick Road, a grueling almost-three-kilometer run. His ego would not let him return to the Chase offices without the actual yellow brick one received as a symbol of completion. Brynn was there on other business and found her way into his room while he was changing. He remembered how uncomfortable she made him. The memory dissolved into a stream of self-recrimination. His tattoo—Troy had the same words on his chest. Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Troy.

  He cycled his breathing until his heart rate slowed. Corrections’ Clay Jenner, #2, and Thibodaux Spooner, #3. Jenner going to Chicago was no coincidence in Martin's mind. His brain pixelated the picture of Jenner. His irises were dark and empty. He’d seen that evil before. As he made the connection, his cell door swung open, and he was blinded by bright flashlights.

  Patrick knocked and entered the bedroom around four a.m., finding Pete watching Elizabeth from a chair. "She fell out fast." Patrick handed Pete the results of her lab tests. "Hmm. I'll hang another liter of saline and repeat the tests.”

  "Keep reading."

  When Pete flipped to the fourth page, his usual enigmatic expression dissipated. He pointed to the door. Both men stepped into the hall. "Those numbers have to predate the poison. If we use the time around Austin's shooting as the date of conception, and today is the seventeenth, we’re looking at over a month max. How are we going to tell her?"

  "We tell her what we can, which isn’t much."

  Julian approached them. "How is she?"

  "Asleep," Pete said. "Troy's surgeries set her back. She's dehydrated, so we’ll give her some fluids. Everyone needs to stay vigilant to make sure she eats enough. Any word on Martin?"

  "No, Wes is trying to make contact. Cordelia Snow is working on the release, but these charges are real. We can't just extract him. She needs to submit the evidence to the court."

  "How's Troy?" Julian asked.

  Patrick swiped his hands over his face. "Pray."

  Julian nodded. "Let me know when Elizabeth wakes up. Kieran wants to tell her."

  Hearing various warnings and commands, Martin counted four men. A shield pressed him against the back wall. Unable to move, he was shackled with ease. A hood was dragged over his head, and he was yanked along on his heels.

  Relying on his Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape training, Martin reminded himself of three of its tenets: I will never surrender of my own free will. If I am captured, I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape.

  Martin smelled the sweat of his guards and could hear the strain of their breathing. His only tactical advantage was that his hands were secured in front
of him. The guard on his left was having a harder time than the one on the right. He shifted his hands and planted his foot enough to throw them off balance, almost crashing them to the ground. In the brief chaos, he flipped the hood off and got his hands around the neck of one of them. They all wore tactical gear and were unidentifiable.

  "All right, everybody back off, or I snap his neck like a twig."

  The three others retreated as footsteps approached from the other end of the corridor. Martin swiveled to put his back against the wall, but he was one beat too slow. The taser darts hit him and dropped him, squiggling to the floor.

  Elizabeth awoke feeling less sick around eight a.m. "Hi.” She smiled.

  "How ya doing, honey?" Pete sat beside her.

  "Better."

  Patrick sat unnoticed on the other side of the room.

  Elizabeth jumped. "Troy?" She didn't have to keep the charade up with them.

  "Rough night. Beth, we don't want to throw any more at you, but we need to talk. We ran some bloodwork."

  Elizabeth read each page of results. "This is a mistake. They told me I couldn't. Oh my. Um...who knows?"

  "Just us," Pete said.

  "It stays this way. We’ll repeat the level every two days. No puppy eyes, either of you." Elizabeth got up. "I need a shower and fresh clothes." Everything was moving too fast for her to process.

  She was eating breakfast under Pete's watchful eye when Kieran walked in. "Beth, we’re working on a plan for Marty's release. Thanks to you finding the tapes, we have proof Martin did not kill your father. His attorney is going to court this morning."

  "And the rest of the case?" Elizabeth needed to know Marty and Troy would be safe. She kept her tone light with a false bravado.

  "We will find another way. We’re all here for you, Beth. Today will be a long day. First, we’ll stop by your dad's home. After we stop at the house, we’ll escort you to the visitation." Kieran took her hand. "We consider you family."

  Elizabeth chuckled. "You should be a doctor. You use the 'we' well. Thank you." Her watery smile held tightly.