by Dani Pettrey
Noah raked a hand over his head. “So it’s pretty clear Mo, Marv, and Layton all worked for Litman. I’m assuming the necklace you found”—Noah looked to Caleb and then Logan—“is in fact stolen.”
“Definitely stolen,” Caleb said. “After finding the necklace, I made some calls to friends in a few different agencies—sent a picture. The necklace was stolen two weeks ago from a private collection in Florence.”
Rissi retrieved and flipped through the manifest. “Layton processed a package from Naples on August twenty-fifth.”
“Two days after the necklace was stolen,” Caleb said.
“And Jacobs retrieved the package, but for some reason he didn’t deliver it,” Finn said. “I’ll try to find out why.”
Gabby knew she should remain quiet, but she didn’t have it in her. “Two of the drug runners who attacked you . . .” She looked to Finn. “And who killed Sam . . . called Litman. Looks like whoever’s behind Litman is smuggling more than stolen goods.”
Finn propped his elbows on his knees and rubbed his forehead. “Which most likely provides the answer to what Will Seavers was in too deep with.”
“Drug smuggling.” Rissi shook her head. “I can’t believe it.”
“Trust me.” Finn exhaled. “I don’t want to believe it, but I’m guessing he was either actively smuggling drugs or giving up Coast Guard patrol schedules so the drug runners could move freely without fear of being caught.”
“What about Fletcher?” Rissi asked. “And do you think the intruder you and Gabby encountered at his house also works for Litman Limited?”
Finn retrieved a folder from his desk and sat back down. “Let’s start with the intruder, Isaac Bashert. He’s definitely connected to Litman because he called that same number when Caleb brought him in, but my interrogation gave no indication of how he fits into the bigger picture. Gabby and I checked out his house this morning. We found Litman’s phone number in a small notebook that’s being processed by Emmy in the lab.”
“It’s got an interesting code or possibly a personalized shorthand throughout,” Emmy said, sitting on the couch’s padded arm, a cup of cinnamon-smelling tea in her hand.
“We’re thinking it’s a log of his work for Litman,” Gabby said. “Or hopefully something that will allow you to keep holding him.”
Rissi exhaled. “If not, we’re going to have to release him.”
“If anyone can decode it, it’s Em.” Logan lifted his cup of coffee with a smile.
“Thanks,” she said. “As soon as we’re done meeting, I’ll get back on it.”
“Since Bashert claimed to have met Fletcher several times at Wilmington Lanes, we checked that out too,” Finn said. “One of the bartenders recognized Bashert’s picture, and he thinks he remembers seeing him talking with Fletcher a time or two.”
“Wow. I’m surprised that one paid out,” Logan said.
“Me too.” Finn took a sip of his Mountain Dew. He offered Gabby a sip, and she took it.
“Thanks.” She wondered what Fletcher and Bashert had been talking about.
Finn got to his feet to stretch. “Fletcher’s involvement could go one of two ways. It’s possible he is in on whatever Will was into, and when Will tried to get out, as he told Tess he was going to do that night, Fletcher either killed Will or had someone tied to Litman do it.”
“And the other option?” Noah asked.
“Fletcher is innocent. He was a witness to Will’s death, and the drug runners tried to kill him to keep him from talking.”
“So assuming Bashert is involved in this Litman thing, why would he break in to Fletcher’s house?” Logan asked, tapping the rim of his mug.
“Maybe he thought he was home from the hospital and was ordered to take him out,” Finn said. “I can see Litman wanting to kill Fletcher, regardless of his connection to them.”
Gabby leaned forward. “If Fletcher is innocent, why isn’t he saying more?”
“Maybe his head injury is affecting his memory,” Finn said.
Noah lifted his chin. “What does your gut tell you?”
“I hate to say it.” Finn exhaled, clearly disheartened at the thought of a corrupt guardsman. “I’m betting Fletcher is involved.”
Noah nodded. “Then run with that theory.”
“I’ll head back over to the hospital tomorrow. The fact that Will was shot with two different guns leads me to believe there were two shooters.” Finn swallowed. “My gut says Fletcher was one of them.”
fifty-three
“You know what’s still bugging me?” Noah said as he and Gabby drove to Kenzie’s for dinner.
“What’s that?”
“I get that Layton and Jacobs helped whoever’s behind Litman smuggle jewels and whatever else through the airport. It makes sense that Seavers and—I’m almost positive—Fletcher were helping him smuggle drugs. But how did they reach Layton once he was locked in the bathroom?”
“We can’t know for sure, but it could be as simple as the way I opened the locked office in Fletcher’s home. There’s almost always a pin key in case a kid locks themselves in.”
“Right.” Noah snapped his fingers. “I’ll check out the lock style when we’re cleared to dive Calliope.” He took a deep inhale and released it. “Speaking of Fletcher’s house . . .”
She shifted in her seat. Where was this headed?
“If Finn hadn’t showed up when he did, you or Tess could have been seriously injured, if not killed.”
“Must I remind you that I’m the one who knocked the guy out?”
“I know, but it had to be terrifying for Finn . . . and Caleb and Emmy until he located you. They all feared Fuentes had or could find you while you were away from the team’s protection. I know you are very capable but . . .”
“But, it wasn’t considerate sneaking out on their watch.” She bit her bottom lip. “I was trying to be helpful.”
“I know, but I need to know where you are at all times and that you’re safe.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What are you suggesting?”
He pulled a small silver disc from his shirt pocket.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“It’s a tracker.”
She sat up higher, squaring her shoulders. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“You worry us all—me, Mom, Kenzie, and the team.” He inhaled and blew it out slowly. “Please. Just slip it in your locket for all our peace of mind.”
“You don’t think that’s overkill?”
“Even if it is, what can it hurt?”
“Fine.” She reached out her hand, and he dropped the small tracker into her cupped palm. She slipped it in her locket and clasped it shut.
He squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you.”
She nodded. “Now back to the case. There’s actually one other thing that’s bugging me. . . .”
Noah arched a brow in the oncoming headlights. “Oh?”
“Besides killing Layton, what does Litman pay Mo and Marv for?”
“Excellent question.”
Finn parked behind Noah in Kenzie and Mark’s driveway. Climbing from the car, he stared at the one-story brick rancher in Camp Lejeune’s base housing. He hadn’t been to their home for dinner since Gabby left for Raleigh, but Noah insisted he join them.
Shutting his car door, he headed up the drive with a bouquet of mixed flowers in his hand for his hosts.
He glanced in Noah’s empty Jeep—he and Gabby had already gone inside. Queasiness tumbled in his gut. It was just a friendly dinner, so why were his nerves taunting him?
Knocking on the door, he held his breath. Seeing Gabby with her family was one of the reasons he’d fallen in love with her. Watching her play Chutes and Ladders with Fiona while Owen kept trying to teeter on his newly walking legs onto the board to steal their game pieces. Watching Gabby unreserved, laughing unabashedly at Fiona’s four-year-old attempts at jokes that usually ended in an animal sound. Seeing her smile at Owen as he tumbled ov
er her while she lay on the floor, head propped on a pillow, watching Peppa Pig.
Seeing her filled with joy had stoked the embers even more fully alive inside of him.
Swallowing, he knocked again. A moment later, the door opened and Kenzie answered. “Finn, so glad you could join us. It’s been too long.” She held the door open as he stepped inside. “Sorry for making you wait. We were out back. I thought I heard the door, but I wasn’t sure until you knocked again.”
“No worries.” He followed her along the hallway, pausing with her as she bent to pick up discarded toys, Fiona’s princess shoes, and Owen’s “uh-oh.” According to Gabby, every time he dropped it, Kenzie had said “uh-oh,” and as soon as he’d learned to talk, Owen started calling his pacifier “uh-oh.” It was flipping adorable.
Kenzie set the pile of discarded items in the oversize wicker basket beside the sofa. “I’ll deal with that later.” She smiled. “We’re all out back.”
He stepped outside to the sound of chirping crickets and meat sizzling on the grill.
“Walker!” Mark said, raising his spatula. “Good to see you, man.”
“Same here.”
“What can I get you to drink?” Kenzie asked as Nana Jo moved in for a big hug.
“Lemonade would be great, thanks. Ooof,” he muttered, releasing a puff of air as Nana Jo squeezed him tightly.
“You don’t come around nearly often enough, young man.” She released her hold and looked up at him. “Are you getting enough sleep?”
“Mom, let him be,” Gabby chided.
“It’s fine,” he assured her and turned his attention back to Nana Jo. “Yes, ma’am.”
She rested her hands on her hips and studied him. “All right. Make sure you do. A good night’s sleep—”
“Makes for a good day,” the three siblings said in unison.
“At least you three have listened to something I say.”
“Momma.” Kenzie sighed. “You know we listened to most of what you said.” She winked at Gabby.
“And then you just ignored it?” Nana Jo looked over her purple-framed glasses sitting on the edge of her nose.
“Not all of it,” Noah said with a teasing chuckle as he squeezed her shoulders.
Nana Jo pursed her lips, trying to bite back a smile, but the crinkles in the corners of her eyes gave her away. “You go on and get.” She swatted Noah with the dishrag she’d tucked in the Kitchen Queen apron the grandkids had given her last Christmas, and he scooted.
“Now, now, adults. Let’s behave,” Mark said, loading a blue platter with steaks from the grill.
“Mom,” Fiona said, “Owen’s throwing sand again.”
Kenzie inhaled. “Excuse me.” She strode to the turtle sandbox, where Fiona was building castles in her princess tiara and Owen was chucking fistfuls of sand.
“Take a seat.” Mark gestured Finn to the table.
As he lowered into the chair beside Gabby, she brushed her hair back from her face.
He wondered if she was remembering the nights they’d spent at her sister’s playing games in front of the fire, the flames illuminating the amber highlights in her hair.
“I’ll say the blessing,” Mark said, lowering his baseball cap to his side. “Thank you, Father, for this bounty of food and all who are here to share it. We pray for everyone’s safety and for your continued protection and provision. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.”
“Amen,” Finn said, laying his napkin across his lap.
After dinner, everyone moved inside for Fiona’s production of The Princess and the Pea.
While awaiting the set to be put in place, Nana Jo took a seat between Finn and Gabby.
“You know, when the kids were little they, too, put on plays.”
He leaned over, smiling at a blushing Gabby. “Is that right?”
“Yes. They were always the same characters, but they had many different adventures.”
Finn’s lips twitched as Gabby’s blush grew.
“Mom, I’m sure Finn doesn’t want to hear about our silly plays.”
“Of course I do,” he said, stretching out his legs. “They sound interesting.”
“That’s a good word for it.” Nana Jo chuckled.
“Mom . . .”
“Gabrielle, I’m telling the story.”
Noah chuckled.
Gabby turned on him. “What’s so funny?”
“How flustered you’re getting.”
Her cheeks tinged crimson.
“So what characters were they?”
“I was a valiant knight,” Noah said, his shoulders broadening.
“And I was a princess,” Kenzie called over the top of the cardboard castle. “As you can see, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”
“And . . .” Finn nudged Gabby’s socked foot. “Who were you?”
“It really doesn’t matter who—”
“Oh, come on, Gabs,” Kenzie said. “Just tell him you were Carmen Sandiego.”
Finn’s lips curled into a smile. “Carmen Sandiego, international spy?”
“What?” She jabbed her foot into his as he laughed. “She was cool.”
“Absolutely.” Of course Gabby would be an international spy. Her love of adventure, mystery, and exposing evil ran deep.
Xavier settled in his bunk. Before long, he’d be back in a real bed and Gabrielle Rowley would be dead.
It’d taken more time than anticipated, but his freedom was on the horizon, the gears in motion.
He nestled into the thin, bumpy mattress with irritation. Soon thoughts of Gabrielle filled his mind. All the possible ways to kill her danced through it.
Fast? Slow? Brutal? Intricately brilliant?
So many methods. He’d stay his hand until the perfect one fixated in his mind.
She’d nearly ruined his life. He’d take the time to ruin hers, watching her suffer as everything she loved was destroyed. And when she had nothing left, when despair filled her eyes, he’d strike. He’d end her pathetic life. But not before looking her in the eyes as the life drained from them. He wanted his smiling face to be the last thing she ever saw.
He rolled over, punching the pillow beneath his head. One more day.
fifty-four
Finn headed upstairs, where Gabby had gone to put the kiddos to bed. Owen’s room was dark, save for the green turtle-shaped lights spinning on the ceiling from the round toy on his dresser. The green light bounced off his chubby cheeks.
Please, Father, keep Mark safe where he is going. Bring him home safely to his family. Comfort Kenzie and the kids while he’s away.
He’d grown up without a dad since he was fourteen, lost him for good when he was sixteen after two years of being nearly a world away. He didn’t wish that on anyone.
His chest squeezed at the thought of Will Jr. on the way and Sam’s daughter, Ali, and the loss they and their moms had suffered mere days ago. He said a prayer for protection, for God to wrap His arms around them and hold them up in the rough days ahead.
He moved for Fiona’s room at the end of the hall, decorated in sparkling pink. Gabby’s back was to him. She sat by Fiona’s side on her twin bed.
“I know it’ll be hard,” she said. “But how about you write notes and draw pictures, and we can send him a care package every week?”
Fiona nodded with a smile.
“You write the letter or make him one of your super special drawings, and I’ll get a box with some goodies.”
“Cheetos are his favorite.”
Gabby laughed softly. “And Lucky Charms?”
Fiona nodded, her attention fixed on Gabby—not even noticing his presence as he leaned against the open doorframe, his thumbs hooked in his belt loops.
“And Snickers bars.”
“Wow.” She tickled Fiona, and the little girl squealed and squirmed with joyous laughter. “Your daddy eats so healthy.”
“Finn!” Fiona said, her gaze slipping to him.
Gabby spun around. “O
h, hi.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Are you ready to go?” she asked.
“Nah, take your time.” He loved watching her with her niece and nephew. She’d make an amazing mom.
Gabby turned back to Fiona. “All right, lady. I should probably get going. If Finn doesn’t get his sleep, he walks around like a zombie all day.” Gabby stretched her arms out in front of her and wobbled side to side.
Fiona giggled. “Like the zombies on Scooby-Doo?”
“Exactly like that. Now . . .” She tucked Fiona’s pink Minnie Mouse comforter in tighter. “Just one more thing to do.” She held her pinkie crooked and extended it to Fiona. “Pinkie swear we’ll take good care of your daddy with packages?”
Fiona smiled, interlocking her small pinkie with Gabby’s. “Promise.”
They swung their intertwined pinkies about, then unhooked them and slid their hands along each other’s, and then finished the secret handshake with jazz hands. “All right, missy, time for bed.”
“Night, Aunt Gabby.” She snuggled deeper under the covers.
“Night, sugar bean.” She leaned over, pressing a kiss to Fiona’s forehead. “Sleep tight.” She clicked off the light. “Love you a million red jelly beans.”
Fiona yawned. “Love you a billion sour worms.”
Gabby smiled as she headed to Finn’s side, and with one last loving glance at Fiona, she shut the door save for a small crack.
Finn couldn’t help but smile.
“What?” She tilted her head to the side, her gaze intense.
His smile widened. “Nothing,” he whispered, lest he wake the babes.
She tugged his arm, halting him. “Seriously, what?”
“You’re a good aunt.”
“Thanks. It’s easy with those two sweethearts.”
“You’ll make a great mom.”
“You think so?”
“I do. You’re a natural with kids.”
Gabby stood barefoot in Finn’s kitchen, eating strawberries and feeding every other one to Layla. She’d never known a puppy to like fruit, but Finn’s Australian shepherd gobbled them up, her tail wagging feverishly.
“I see she’s decided who the easy mark is.” Finn smiled, hopping up on the counter, his legs dangling down.