by Cynthia Eden
Or . . . or maybe he’d seen the killer take the victims out.
“It’s too perfect,” Sarah said.
“What?” Douglas stared at her in disbelief. “How is it perfect? The man is on the run, he sent his nephew out to do his dirty work—”
“And that is what’s wrong.” Because Clay had taken care of Johnny ever since the guy’s mother had committed suicide. “He wouldn’t use Johnny that way.” She might not be sure of the scene, but she was sure of that part.
“This guy is our killer.” Douglas didn’t seem to have any doubts. “We’ve got a nationwide manhunt in effect for him now. He will be brought down.”
A manhunt . . . right. She’d heard the news report. Clay Thompson was considered armed and dangerous, and that meant when the cops approached him, they’d go after him with their weapons out.
The scene doesn’t fit.
She needed to talk with Johnny.
Sarah hurried out of the house. It was up high, built on stilts because it was so near the bay side of the island. She looked out, saw the glistening water.
Then she looked down. Pierce Montgomery was down there, with Jessica. He had his hand on her shoulder. His posture was protective, concerned.
He’d sure changed a lot since she first saw him at LOST.
Dean Bannon was close by, too, watching the scene, and keeping his gaze on Jessica. Sarah knew that Gabe had ordered Dean to stay close. The guy was very good at following orders.
I’m not so good at that.
She pulled out her phone. Called Gabe. The phone rang, once, twice . . .
“This isn’t a good time.” Gabe’s voice was curt.
“Are you with Johnny?”
“I’ll call back—”
“Ask him what he’d do for his uncle.” She needed to be there. To see Johnny.
It was a good thing the island was so small. She could be in the police station in five minutes.
“Keep asking him about his uncle,” Sarah said as she ran down the stairs and rushed past Jessica and Pierce. “Ask Johnny where his uncle is. Ask Johnny if—if someone was threatening Clay . . .”
She jumped into the car near Jessica. Sarah saw the other woman frowning at her, but she didn’t have time for explanations. Dean would keep Jessica safe.
Sarah spun out of the narrow lot, speeding as fast as she dared for the police station. The wind had already picked up, and she could hear the howl around her car. The rental shuddered a bit under the force of that wind.
“YOU SHOULD LEAVE the island,” Pierce said as his hand tightened around Eve’s shoulder. “You don’t want to be here when the water starts rising.”
Eve stared after Sarah. The woman had been running so fast.
Ask Johnny where his uncle is. Ask Johnny if—if someone was threatening Clay . . .
She had overheard part of Sarah’s phone conversation. But who would threaten a killer?
“I thought . . .” Eve cleared her throat. “I thought the condo complex was supposed to be safe in a storm.”
“The building was built to be as strong as it could be, but no place is one hundred percent safe,” Pierce said as his green gaze swept slowly over her face, concern in the depths of his eyes. “You don’t need to take chances. You should be safe. I can take you off the island. We can head up to our house in Birmingham until the storm is over. Hell, you don’t ever have to come back here. It’s not as if the place has good memories for you.”
But it must have . . . once. If she’d chosen to make her life there.
“Who would threaten him?” Eve murmured.
Dean edged closer to her. Gabe had put the guy on guard duty, and he’d been her shadow every step she’d taken that day.
“I’d threaten him!” Pierce said, obviously not having caught Sarah’s words on the phone. “He’s after you—he’s obsessed with you.”
Was he? “Why didn’t he try and talk to me?” Since she’d been on that island, why hadn’t he approached her?
“You don’t want him talking to you.”
Rain began to fall. Thunder rumbled.
“You don’t want him anywhere near you,” Pierce added, voice sharp. “Now, we need to get off this island. If we don’t hurry, it will be too late. The roads on the other side of the main bridge flood as the bay rises, and we won’t be able to pass.”
Yes, they did need to hurry. The island seemed to hold nothing but death and secrets everywhere she turned.
So . . . why did she want to stay?
Eve shook her head. “I’m not leaving without Gabe.”
“WHERE IS CLAY?” Gabe asked Johnny quietly as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.
“It’s time for transport,” Trey said. “The prisoner has to be removed before the waters rise more.”
Gabe leaned toward Johnny. “Who’s threatening your uncle?” Sarah’s question, one that he didn’t fully understand and—
Fear flashed in Johnny’s eyes. Bright, hot, terrified.
Sarah. She’d been dead to rights on that one. Someone had threatened the guy.
“You can’t ask him questions!” Trey snapped. “Not until his lawyer is here . . .” He unhooked one of Johnny’s cuffs. “I don’t care what the FBI agent told you, that’s not how things work down here. We follow the law.”
Johnny didn’t move. His fearful gaze was on Gabe’s.
“You love your uncle, don’t you?”
“H-He looks out for me. Always has.”
Now they were getting somewhere, because the cocky mask was fading from Johnny’s face. “And you look out for him.”
A faint nod was his answer. Trey unhooked the guy’s other cuff. Johnny stayed in his chair.
“Is someone hurting Clay?” That was a stab in the dark, but when Johnny blanched, Gabe knew he was right.
Shit. He needed Sarah there. She could figure this kid out, she could—
“I have to protect him.” Johnny’s voice was low. “I have to!”
And then Johnny grabbed for Trey’s gun. The cop had dropped his guard, maybe because Johnny had seemed so broken in that instant. But Trey reacted quickly, his own hand flying over the weapon.
Trey and Johnny fell to the floor. The table crashed down beside them. Gabe lunged forward because they were struggling with the gun and someone was going to get—
Shot.
The blast echoed in the room, deafening in its intensity.
The door burst open and Agent Granger ran inside.
Gabe grabbed for Trey’s shoulder, but the cop was already rolling back. Blood covered the front of his shirt, but it wasn’t his blood because Gabe could see the gaping hole in Johnny’s stomach.
Shit. “Medic!” Gabe yelled even as he shoved a stunned-looking Trey back and put his hands on Johnny’s wounds. “The kid needs help!” More help than he could give. He’d seen wounds like that in the field, and the wounded men hadn’t survived the gut shots.
Johnny’s blood soaked his fingers. “Look at me!” Gabe demanded, because the guy’s body was shaking and his eyes were rolling back in his head.
Trey swore behind him. “He didn’t give me a choice . . . dammit, he didn’t give me—”
Agent Granger tried to help Gabe. They were both desperate to stop that blood flow. But that shot had been at point-blank range, and the damage was massive.
Too massive.
“Un . . . uncle Clay?” Johnny’s voice broke.
“Stay with me,” Gabe told him. They needed a hospital!
But there wasn’t one on the island . . . shit, shit, shit!
A gasp sounded behind him. More frantic footsteps. Then—Sarah was there. Sarah had her MD. She could help.
And she was trying to help. Studying the wound, looking at Johnny’s eyes, attempting to hold him still.
“H-Help . . .” Johnny gasped.
“I’m trying, Johnny,” Sarah said, her voice soothing. “I want to help you.”
Johnny’s rolling eyes managed to fix on her.
“H-Help . . . un-uncle . . .”
The man was spitting up blood.
“Please . . .”
“I want to help you first,” Sarah said as she leaned toward him. “You need to stay calm.” She glanced back at Gabe. “He needs a hospital! Is there a helicopter that can airlift—”
“Help!” Johnny’s voice was ragged, so desperate. And his hand lifted. He grabbed for Sarah’s hair and he yanked her closer.
“Un . . . cle Clay . . . good . . . help . . .”
Trey pried Johnny’s hand away from Sarah. Johnny looked up at the cop, and the terror flashed across his already pain-filled face. “Wh-Why? I—I did . . . what I was . . . s-supposed to . . .”
The man’s blood was gushing from his body. Gabe and the others tried to lift him so they could get Johnny out of there.
They ran to the parking lot. Trey was shouting that the airfield was close. That they could try and get Johnny to Mobile and the hospitals there—
But Johnny died before they even made it to the helicopter.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SOMETHING WAS WRONG. EVE HURRIED INSIDE THE small police station. Dean was at her side, and Pierce followed right behind her. She could see Gabe up ahead, near the counter, and—
He turned toward her. His hands were covered in red. Blood. And blood stained his shirt, his jeans.
The blood is on my hands.
“What the hell happened?” Dean surged toward him.
And Eve saw Sarah then, standing near Gabe, her shoulders hunched. There was blood on her clothes, too. A smear of blood on her cheek.
“Johnny Thompson got Trey’s weapon.” Gabe’s voice was hollow. She’d never heard quite that tone from him before. “They fought, and the gun went off.” His bloody hands fisted. “Right fucking in front of me. The kid died—”
“No loss,” Pierce muttered.
Gabe’s gaze snapped toward him. “He was a twenty-one-year-old kid! Scared and just starting to tell us what was really happening on this island!”
An alarm sounded then, a long, shrill siren’s call that came from outside.
“Evacuation,” Eve whispered, just—knowing—that sound. “It’s time to leave the island.”
“We tried to get Johnny to the airfield,” Sarah said. “He just . . . didn’t make it.” While Gabe’s voice had been hollow, hers was thick with sadness.
Dean headed toward them. “Sarah?”
She jerked back. “He was protecting his uncle.”
Wasn’t that what they’d already realized? Goose bumps were on Eve’s arms. How many more people are going to die?
Would it ever stop?
She crept toward Gabe. His gaze was shuttered. “I’m sorry.” She could feel his pain. It seemed to hang around him like a shroud.
“He was talking to me. There was more there, Eve, I know it.” His bloody fingers fisted. “He was scared and he was desperate.”
Pierce was right beside them now. “The guilty often are.”
She reached up and wrapped her arms around Gabe. She pulled him toward her, not caring about the blood, only wanting to be close to him. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
“There was more to his story,” Gabe growled into her ear. “I was so close, so fucking close, and he died.”
Over his shoulder she saw Trey. His gaze met hers and he stiffened. Then his jaw locked as he strode toward them. “Evacuation is in effect. Everyone needs to get off the island right now.”
She pulled away from Gabe. Trey had just killed a man. She expected to see emotion on his face, but there was none. Eve hesitated, then moved toward him, her steps slow. “Are you . . . okay?”
“I shot a prisoner who tried to escape.” Said flatly, as if he were just stating the facts. “I wish things had ended differently but they didn’t. He gave me no choice.”
He was hurting. He had to be hurting. Her hand lifted. Touched his shoulder. “Trey—”
He pulled away from her. “Get off the island.” His stare moved toward Gabe. Sarah. Pierce. “All of you. Get the hell off my island before the storm comes.” Then he strode away, heading for the front of the station.
Eve stared after him.
“I don’t think he’s killed before.”
She flinched at the voice because she hadn’t heard Agent Granger approach.
You’re wrong. That whisper was there, in her mind.
Eve frowned as she glanced at Granger.
“The first is always the hardest,” he said, giving a sad shake of his head.
“They are always hard,” Sarah snapped back. Eve was surprised by the snap in her words. Sarah had looked almost defeated, but she sure sounded pissed. “He didn’t have to die. If I could have just talked to him—”
“You can’t save everyone,” Dean told her quietly.
Sarah sucked in a sharp breath. Then she was spinning away and heading for the back of the station.
Dean followed after her.
“We need to leave, Jessica,” Pierce told her as he caught her hand. He tugged her toward the door. “Traffic will get backed up—hell, it probably already is. We need to go.”
“You go ahead.” She wasn’t leaving. “I’m staying with Gabe.”
Gabe’s eyes met hers. “I’ll get her off the island safely.” The words were for Pierce, but Gabe didn’t look at him.
Pierce kept pulling on her hand. “I have more resources—”
Eve slid her hand out of his grasp. “I’m sure you do, but I’m not leaving my friends yet.” Her friends . . . Sarah. Victoria . . . Dean. Yes, she’d started to think of them as friends. Not just guards. Not agents she’d hired. And they needed her, just as she needed them. “Get off the island,” Eve told Pierce, managing a slight nod. “And I’ll see you soon.”
“But—”
“I’ve got her,” Gabe said, and he did look at Pierce then. “I promise, I’ll keep her safe from the storm.”
Eve hurried away from them. She needed to find Sarah. She opened the door to the right, nearly ran down the narrow hallway, and then she saw Dean, standing a few feet away from Sarah. Looking both helpless and furious.
Sarah was crying.
“Sarah.” Eve said her name softly.
Her head snapped up. “He—He died when my hands were on him.”
Eve advanced carefully. Dean eased back. Watched them.
“I know there was more to the story.” Sarah sucked in a heaving breath. “The pieces didn’t fit. The scene was wrong . . . and at the end, he kept asking me to help.”
“He wanted you to help him?”
“No.” Sarah shook her head. Stared at Eve with stark eyes. “He wanted me to help his uncle. He was dying, and with his last breath he was begging me to help Clay.”
“YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH my sister is completely inappropriate,” Pierce fired, his voice low. “She can’t even remember her past, and you—”
“You don’t want to push me right now,” Gabe warned him as he flexed his hands. “I just saw a man die, the woman I love is in fucking danger, and my control really isn’t what it should be.”
Pierce’s eyes widened. “You . . . think you love my sister?”
He didn’t think it. He knew it. His feelings had been crystallizing ever since that damn explosion out at the lighthouse. He’d come too close to losing her, and he’d realized just how much she truly meant to him. Only he shouldn’t have been saying that shit to Pierce. He needed to be talking with Eve. But since he’d already started down this path . . . he advanced on Pierce. “Yeah, I love her.” He’d fallen fast and hard, and there was no going back for him. “So you know what that means? It means I won’t let anyone or anything,” even fucking Mother Nature and her storms, “hurt her.”
“Jessica—”
“Eve. That’s who she is now. Deal with it.” Deal with me. “Follow her advice. Get off the island. Cover your ass. And I’ll be taking care of her.” Then, because he didn’t trust his control to last much longer and Eve’s brot
her just rubbed him the wrong way, Gabe spun away from him.
“She won’t stay with you.” Pierce’s voice was low. “She’ll leave you just like she did them. She uses men. I love her, but I know her weaknesses.”
Gabe glanced back at him. “You don’t know her at all.” Then he stalked after Eve. He needed her close. The scent of death was all around him and Eve was his one light in this madness.
He needed her.
He headed into the hallway. Sarah was near the interrogation room door, her body so stiff. Tears drying on her face. And Eve was there, talking softy to Sarah.
It wasn’t the first time that someone had died in Sarah’s arms. Unfortunately, with Sarah’s past, too many had lost their lives that way.
And she hadn’t been able to save them.
He knew the grief that ate at Sarah and he wished he could help her. But the demons she carried were her own, and she couldn’t seem to shake them.
You will, Sarah, you will.
“Let’s get the hell off this island,” Gabe told them.
Dean immediately nodded, but Sarah hesitated. “I—I need to check Clay’s home once more. I want to make sure—”
“You need to be safe,” Eve told her firmly. “It can wait. He can wait.”
Sarah looked at Gabe. “He wanted me to help . . .”
And Sarah always would. She couldn’t turn away from those who needed her. Sarah was too busy trying to atone for her past.
He nodded because he understood her so well. “Wade is outside of the station.” He’d been there when they tried to get Johnny to the airlift. “Sarah, get him to go with you to the Thompson house. Do your sweep, then get off the island.” He pointed to Dean. “Victoria is still in her makeshift lab. Tell her it’s time to go. I want you and Victoria to head out together.” Each one of them needed to be with a partner. With the killer on the loose, he wanted them covered.
And he’d get Eve out of that place.
The alarm was still sounding. He could hear its distant cry.
He lifted his hand toward Eve. Shit. He still had blood on him. He dropped his hand, but Eve—Eve still came to his side.
I love her.
He’d meant what he said to Pierce. He wasn’t going to give up Eve, not now.
Not ever.