I sat there, waiting to see what would happen.
I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. I pretended this was a scene from one of those Bourne movies.
Would this work, or had my whole nonplanned plan been a terrible idea?
I stared in my mirror. Continued to wait. Resisted the urge to play on Snapchat.
Finally, I saw the car drive past.
It was a black sedan with tinted windows. One of the undercover cruisers? Most likely.
Even after the car went past, I waited, halfway expecting the driver to turn around and come back.
After three minutes, it didn’t.
I released my breath.
Maybe I’d lost my bodyguard.
But when I looked up, I saw two vacationers in their bathing suits standing by the house door staring at me.
This must be their house and their vacation I was intruding on.
How was I going to explain this?
I plastered on my best smile and rolled down my window. “Hi, I’m Joey Darling. I’m practicing a scene for an upcoming show . . .”
A show called My Life.
I desperately needed a neck massage after everything that had happened today. Every time I turned my head, pain radiated down my spine.
Though Zane was a certified massage therapist, I wouldn’t be asking him to help, even if the idea was tempting.
I parked at my condo and dragged myself up the stairs, pausing at the landing as a familiar figure filled my vision.
Jackson waited by my door.
I slowed my steps, but only because I knew running would make me look foolish. And I’d probably trip.
I paused in front of him, my emotions still at war inside me. My logic just didn’t stand a chance right now, and nothing was going to change that.
I crossed my arms. “How long have you been waiting here?”
Jackson straightened, no longer leaning against the wall beside my door. “I was prepared to wait for as long as it took.”
I nodded slowly, shoving aside a surge of traitorous elation at his chivalrous words. “I see.”
His gaze pleaded with me, the depths of his eyes an abyss of apology, concern, and longing. If I wasn’t careful, I’d get sucked in and drown there.
“Can we talk, Joey? You weren’t answering my calls.”
“I’m not sure how much there is to say.” Everything flashed back to me, sending a new wave of hurt over me, one that enveloped and consumed me. Today’s events had blindsided me, which made the pain even worse.
I remembered Charlie’s words. A promise is a promise.
But why did Jackson keeping a promise to one person feel like he was breaking a promise to me?
Tears filled my eyes. I willed them not to come again, but they did. Unfortunately.
I was an emotional train wreck right now, and all the acting skills in the world wouldn’t change that.
“You know how much you mean to me, Joey.” Jackson’s voice sounded husky with emotion. He stepped toward me but faltered, as if uncertain how close to get. Which was weird because Jackson was never uncertain. That realization was another sucker punch in the gut.
“I don’t feel like I mean anything to you, Jackson.” My voice broke, but I knew I had to stand my ground. “You knew how much I was hurting over my father, and you remained silent with key information.”
“It was killing me inside, Joey.”
I thought back to the last several months, to the moments of uncertainty and fear that had consumed me. They had been gut wrenching. The uncertainty of not knowing what had happened to my father had brought something akin to grief over me.
Tears spilled over my cheeks now. I didn’t want them to, but I couldn’t stop them.
Everything had obviously caught up with me because I couldn’t hold back my emotions anymore, and I was at their mercy, for better or worse.
“Oh, Joey.”
Nor could I resist Jackson’s embrace. He pulled me into his arms—folded me there.
I tucked my head beneath his chin, the action making me feel small and childlike almost. His steady heartbeat brought me comfort, just as always.
He said nothing. Just held me as my tears wet his shirt. Offered me comfort for the pain he’d caused. Supported me when I wanted to crumble.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I couldn’t allow myself to be comforted by Jackson. He’d proven himself to be like every other man in my life.
What was I thinking letting this happen? I needed to be stronger than this.
This was Logic’s Last Stand.
Abruptly, I backed up and ran a finger beneath my eyes.
I had to pull myself together for long enough to do what needed to be done.
“I just need time, Jackson.” My voice sounded shaky and tentative, a mere echo of the emotions waging inside me. “I just need time.”
Chapter Ten
“I need you to trust me, Joey.” Jackson’s eyes bored into mine again.
I had to look away before I lost my resolve. Instead, I glanced at the cement beneath me. A caterpillar took a stroll up the doorframe. A mosquito swayed to unheard music atop Jackson’s shoe. Sand sprinkled the cheerful, smiley-face-filled welcome mat.
“I don’t know that I trust you right now,” I finally said. “I want to. I do. But my heart feels like there’s a gigantic wound there. It’s something a Band-Aid won’t fix.”
He closed his eyes. “I just wish you’d try to understand my perspective here. One wrong move, and the whole operation could be blown. One whim or headstrong moment on the wrong person’s part and . . .” He shook his head. “You can’t imagine the consequences.”
Some of my sadness slipped away, replaced with a surge of . . . anger. “What does that even mean? And when you said ‘whim’ and ‘headstrong,’ were you talking about me?”
Because that was almost insulting—if it wasn’t so true.
“Joey, you are headstrong.”
“So of course you can’t share anything. Because I’m not trustworthy.” I wanted to cross my arms and pout, but I didn’t. It was way too Alicia Silverstone from Clueless.
A shadow fell over his gaze. “It’s more complicated than that. If you’d back away from your emotions long enough, you’d see it.”
“Well, of course you can’t tell me. And of course I can’t see whatever it is you’re talking about. My emotions appear to be holding me captive right now.” They were like King Kong, and I was like Ann Darrow hanging off the Empire State Building. The problem was there was no one to rescue me from myself.
Jackson straightened and ran a hand over his face. “Okay, I get it. You need time, and I respect you enough to give it to you. However, you have a stalker out there who’s escaped from prison. He’s probably coming after you. We never found Currie’s body, and who knows what he and his guys are planning, and someone tried to kill us yesterday on the side of a scenic byway . . .”
“It sounds like an ordinary day in the life of Joey Darling.”
He scowled. “Nothing about this is ordinary. It’s a dangerous situation, and you should be scared.”
“I am scared.” I paused, surprised at my own admission.
Silence stretched between us a minute.
“You have an officer stationed outside of my home still, right?” I finally said.
“Yes, but . . .”
“I’ll try not to go anywhere alone.”
“That doesn’t really make me feel better. Especially the try part.” He frowned.
The look in his eyes made me want to forget everything I felt and just go back to being Joey and Jackson. Visions of us skipping hand in hand down the beach as the sun set taunted me. When had my dreams for the future swelled into this? Those hopes had slipped into my heart without me even realizing it.
I couldn’t do that yet though. Maybe not ever. I just didn’t know right now.
“That’s all I can promise,” I finally said.
He sighed. Paused. Closed
his eyes and opened them again. Finally, he said, “Then I’ll take what I can get.”
I expected to feel relieved at his words. Instead my heart felt like it weighed a hundred pounds—a hundred pounds of broken dreams, unmet expectations, and enough breakup dark chocolate to cause teenage girls across the world to break out.
I nodded toward my door and raised my keys. “I should get inside then.”
As I swept past him, he reached for my arm. His fingers traced across my skin, and he leaned into me. Opened his mouth. Shut it.
I knew he didn’t want to let me go. That he didn’t want to leave.
And I also knew that if I turned around and saw his eyes again, I might forget all my resolve. And I couldn’t let myself do that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Zane came back to the condo thirty minutes after I’d arrived.
Thankfully, by that time, I’d dried most of my tears and attempted to pull myself together, but I felt like a Slinky that had been seriously hyperextended and now looked like barbed wire atop a maximum-security prison fence instead.
Zane was wearing his wetsuit, so I assumed he’d been surfing. I had a little storage shed downstairs—each of the residents did—and he usually left his board there. I only hoped he’d rinsed the sand off himself outside because I certainly didn’t want to clean it from the indoor shower.
Seriously, sometimes I felt like his mom.
“You would not believe the swells out there,” he said, shaking his curly hair that was quite possibly Bob Ross inspired.
“Oh yeah?” I tried to sound interested, even though I wasn’t.
“They were totally the bomb, but there were a crazy amount of sharks out there too. It was like insane. People were going all Jaws on the beach and running out of the water.” He paused and stared at me a minute. “How’s it going with you?”
Did he not remember everything that had happened? I didn’t ask that. Instead, I shrugged and grunted noncommittally. I was so tired of arguing today.
“That great, huh?”
I grunted again.
“Let me grab a protein bar—I’m starving—and then we can talk.” He reappeared a few minutes later with his dinner in hand.
To my horror, he plopped on the couch. I mean, the covering was leather but . . . he was wearing a wet suit that was likely still wet. He should totally change first.
Having a roommate was so . . . challenging at times.
“Want to sit on the balcony?” I asked. It did have great views of the water and moisture-proof furniture.
“Absolutely.”
We sat in two little metal-framed chairs. Thankfully, it wasn’t incredibly hot today. That fact made it slightly more pleasant out here.
“Tell me about the rest of your day.” Zane’s wrapper crinkled and grated on my nerves.
I filled him in on everything that had happened, leaving out the parts about Jackson. I didn’t want Zane, of all people, to be my personal counselor when it came to romance. The thought of it made me cringe—especially since Zane had liked me at one time.
“The question is, how do you figure out what the Barracudas are up to without becoming a part of them?” Zane asked.
I nodded. “Exactly. I assumed they were just thugs who were out for themselves. But then my mom talked about the greater good. Thomas—the consultant for Relentless—seemed to confirm that the terror group is working toward something else as well. I just can’t for the life of me figure out what that might be.”
“It sounds to me like the whole group has embraced some kind of ideology that’s given them a motive. Religious maybe?”
“Religious mixed with selling drugs and weapons? I mean, I suppose it could happen, but I’m doubting it. Nothing I’ve encountered about the Barracudas screams religion of any sort.” My head pounded with every dead end I came to.
“Political?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. But don’t people like that usually make their manifesto known? It would be like neo-Nazis covering up their beliefs when their beliefs are the core of their existence. It doesn’t fit.”
“Good point.” He took another bite of his protein bar. “I’m no expert on these things. Maybe they’re just terrorists who want to take over the world. Maybe we’re trying to pretend they’re smarter than they are.”
I leaned back, wishing I had some Tylenol. “And then I have to ask myself: How did my mom get wrapped up in this? How did a simple, small-town girl who won Miss Apple Blossom Teen become affiliated with a terrorist group?”
“She either found them—sought them out—or they recruited her. I mean, isn’t that how anyone joins a group like that?”
I continued to think it through. Zane had a good point. “So she left us to pursue a career in modeling. Maybe she found herself in dire straits without money or family, and way too much pride to come back.”
“Someone could have taken her in and majorly influenced her.”
I nodded, realizing this theory made a lot of sense. Maybe we were finally on the right track. “Modeling can be brutal—kind of like acting. She probably found that her dreams weren’t coming true. She met a nice man who groomed her for this. That’s my best guess.”
Who would that man be? Had I met him? Was he hiding in plain sight?
“Here’s my other question: Where do these people meet to talk? They must have some kind of lair or something.” That thought had been bugging me. Somehow these people were being recruited. They were planning. Organizing. Plotting. If I could pinpoint where this was happening, maybe I had a chance at solving this.
“Or they could do everything online.”
“Wouldn’t the FBI intercept any messages?”
“Not if it was on the dark web,” Zane said.
The dark web? Adam, the guy I’d run into earlier today, specialized in the dark web. For that matter, he was the one who’d discovered that my super-stalker fan club utilized the dark web to plan their mischief.
I wondered if he might know a way to glean some info . . .
There was only one way to find out. I would call him.
As I stood to do that, the sky across from me erupted into a flash of fire. My building shook.
I gasped and looked across the water to the town of Manteo.
I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a bomb had just gone off.
Chapter Eleven
I could hardly breathe as I watched the orange flames fade into a gray smoke.
What had just happened? That was no special effect. Something had exploded.
“Should we go check it out?” Zane asked, not pulling his gaze away.
I nodded stiffly. “Yes, we should.”
I mean, this could be nothing. It could have no connection whatsoever with everything going on.
But it could be connected, and that possibility led me to believe that I could not pass this up. The explosion was worth pursuing just to see if there were answers there.
I grabbed my purse, and Zane trotted beside me as I rushed to my car and climbed in the driver’s seat.
No speeding, Joey. I had no doubt that, if I did, Jackson would have his guy pull me over. He was looking for any excuse to slow me down—and I wasn’t only talking about my driving.
“What do you think you’re going to find when we get to the scene?” Zane asked.
“I have no idea. This could all be for nothing. I mean, not every bad thing that happens in this area is connected with me.”
“True. Just most of it.”
I shot him a dirty look.
“So, you looked like you’d been crying earlier,” Zane said. “Jackson?”
“Yes.”
“I never thought the two of you were a good match anyway.”
I cut a sharp glance toward him, surprised by his words. “You didn’t?”
“He’s married to his job, Joey. What fun would that be for you? You’d always feel second place.”
His words hit me like a slap in the face. Were they true? I mean, right no
w it had all been working out because Jackson and I were investigating together. Sort of. But when real life kicked in, would our lives take us different directions?
I’d be busy with my movies or TV shows or whatever popped up next on the horizon. Meanwhile, Jackson would be busy investigating his cases, working late nights and weekends. He wouldn’t have enough time off to go to premieres with me or on press junkets or even just to experience my life in LA. He probably wouldn’t even want to experience it.
Maybe I’d just been living in a dream world when I’d thought the two of us could make it.
I’d lived in a dream world before. Often. I wasn’t above trying to ignore my problems and replace them with love—actually, it was more like infatuation. And then when the feelings wore off, the relationship eventually went away, and I went on to the next distraction from the harsh realities of life.
The one man I’d sacrificed that for and married had turned out to be the biggest jerk in the history of the planet.
I had terrible judgment when it came to men. What had made me think Jackson would be any different? Maybe my blinders had been on.
“I’m sorry, Joey.” Zane squeezed my arm. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, you’re fine. Those are things I need to think about.” I’d been living in a bubble, and right now real life had started to kick in.
“He knew how much this meant to you. I can’t believe he still kept secrets.”
Zane probably wasn’t helping me right now. Or was he? Was this what I needed to hear?
“I can’t believe it either.” Those feelings of betrayal came back stronger than ever.
Maybe some people had to learn lessons the hard way. Apparently, I was one of those people, time and time again.
I followed the smoke, going across the causeway onto Roanoke Island and toward the town of Manteo. I pulled to a stop not far from a stretch of large, oversized houses located on the sound.
Police cars prevented me from going too close. But they didn’t stop me from pulling over on the side of the road and checking things out for myself.
Flaw-Abiding Citizen (The Worst Detective Ever Book 6) Page 6