“I came across an ID number—70821. Need your permission to bust into the Service’s HRIS system.”
His phone stilled. “In and out, Jax. I don’t want your digital footprint on anyone’s personnel file, except 70821. Understood?” The display on his phone lit again—Vasquez.
“You wound me, boss.”
“Kick in the nitro, nerd.”
“Will do. Jax out.”
Deke hit the Answer button. “Conrad.”
“What the hell are you doing, Deke?” Director Vasquez said by way of greeting. “My analyst tells me that you’re still investigating your brother’s case.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Want to explain why you disobeyed an order?”
“Because Gold Star and my brother’s case are linked.”
“Where’d you get that intel?”
“Couple different places.”
“Where?”
Deke rubbed his eyes. “My brother—”
“For the love of God, Conrad. What are you thinking—?”
“Harwood has a mole inside the Service,” Deke interrupted.
“What? How do you know?”
“While my brother sat in a filthy, animal crate for five days, without food or water, Harwood bragged about his spy embedded in the Service.” Maybe even a SONR agent. “He knows all about our team.”
Silence.
“Who has ID number 70821?”
Paper shuffling scratched through the speaker.
“Colin Fisher,” Vasquez said.
He took a precious second to whisper a silent thank-you. Although he’d already bet his career on the leak not being a SONR team member, the fact remained that he’d had no way of knowing with absolute certainty, until this moment.
“You’re not suggesting Colin’s a spy.”
“That’s where the trail has led us.”
“He’s one of my best analysts.”
“Did you order someone to shut down our communications?”
“You would’ve been the first to know, if I had.”
“Thought so. Find out who has the power or authority to make us go black, and you’ll have your mole.”
“I’ll get you up and running ASAP.”
“Jax already took care of it.”
“What if I’d ordered the shut down? Would Jax have reversed it?”
“Since you didn’t, let’s concentrate on who did.”
“I want regular updates, from this point forward. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir.” He pocketed his phone.
“Everything okay?” Britt asked.
He lifted his booted foot to the fountain’s ledge. “I’m going to enjoy stripping Harwood of everything he owns.”
“I had a similar feeling last year when dealing with those trophy hunters.”
“Thanks for coming when I called.”
Britt slapped his back. “Glad I could return the favor.”
“You just let them take my boy?” a new voice demanded.
Deke jerked his pant leg down to cover the sheathed knife before lowering his foot to the ground. Pivoting, he faced his father. The old man’s eyes appeared hard and unbending, even in the darkness. His chest heaved and his beer gut stood out beneath his light flannel shirt. As per usual, Iris Conrad stood several feet behind her husband, though this time she held her chin up, her shoulders squared.
Betrayal burned in his veins. Why had she brought Mitch Conrad here? Now? When he needed to concentrate on locating Evie.
This was all his damn fault. Not wanting his mom to hear of Dylan’s incarceration through the normal gossip mill, he’d called to give her a heads-up. He’d also assured her that Dylan would be safer behind bars. What he hadn’t told her was that Dylan had agreed to do what he could to keep the police busy while he dealt with the Harwoods.
“For now,” he said. “It’s the best place for him.”
“You’re deciding now what’s best for my son?”
“I don’t have time for your false bluster. I’ll take care of this.”
“Don’t even think about bringing the feds into family business.”
“I’ll bring in the city, county, state, whatever it takes. There’s a lot you don’t understand, and I don’t have the time—or desire—to explain it to you.”
“How the hell is a newsletter writer going to stop a cold-blooded killer?”
“With friends.” Britt and Reid moved to his side.
“Lots of them.” Reid, Keone, Wes, Rae, and Matteo flanked him, creating a semicircle of protection. Each shoved a piece of clothing aside to reveal a weapon.
His dad eyed the row of men and women. “Y’all are here to help my boy?”
“Yes, sir,” Keone said. “Deke won’t let anything happen to Dylan—” he slid a glance toward the Steele brothers, “—or Evie.”
“How’re you gonna find this devil?”
“That’s why we’re here,” he said. “To go over what we know and set up a search.”
“Sounds like a tail chaser. Don’t you have any leads?”
“Yes, we have a lead. A solid one.”
“Then what’re doing here?”
“Daddy, please. Leave us to it.”
He picked up movement out of the corner of his eye. Three figures huddled together at the edge of the fountain’s courtyard.
“Amy, Noah,” he said, confused by their appearance. Did the whole damn town know they were here? “It’s awful late for a walk in the park.”
Neither said a word, though Amy’s anxious gaze settled on his mom.
“Is everything okay?” he asked. “Are you looking for someone?”
“I asked her to come.” Iris Conrad stepped out of the shadow of her husband and strode to Amy’s side.
“What’re you talking about, Iris?” his dad asked. “What’s going on?”
“When I found out that Dylan was in jail, I called Chief Middleton. It took some doing, but I finally got Charlie to tell me about Eli Harwood and that poor nurse.” Iris put her arm around Amy. “Amy’s been helping me with my computer skills at the library.” She drew in a deep breath. “We’ve been confiding in each other about…different things.”
“You never told me about these meetings,” Mitch accused.
“For good reason.”
“Why do you need to learn how to use the computer?”
“So I can get a job.”
“You don’t need one. There’s plenty to do around the house.”
“I’m not arguing with you about this, Mitch. My mind’s made up.”
“Who’s going to hire a fifty-three-year-old housewife with no skills?”
“Enough.” Deke stepped between his parents. “Daddy, go home. You’ve become a distraction at a time when we need to focus all our energy on saving Dylan and Evie.”
“A distraction.” Mitch’s flat tone carried an undercurrent of danger. “Fine. Come on, Iris.”
“No,” his mom said.
“So it’s that way now, is it?” Mitch glared at his wife. “If you don’t come with me now, don’t bother coming later.”
His mom’s determination wavered under her husband’s ultimatum. Deke resisted telling his dad to stick his offer up his ass. In order for his mom to break free of her husband’s oppression, she would have to make the decision to go.
“Goodbye, Mitch.”
His dad’s eyes widened before narrowing into vengeful slits. “You’ll be getting nothing. Everything in that house belongs to me, bought and paid for.”
“I’m not interested in your junk, anyway.”
Mitch snarled, “Junk—”
“Time to go.” Keone and Britt moved to escort Mitch Conrad away.
The moment his dad cleared the area, the cloud of tension hovering over them dissipated.
Deke rested a hand on his mom’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“I will be.” She gathered herself, shucking off Iris the wife and drawing forth Iris the mom. “Enough about me
. Let’s find your Evie and free my boy.”
The guys began shuffling around behind him, as if his mother’s command released them from the horror of watching his family’s drama play out.
“Why’d you ask Amy and Noah to come?” he asked.
“Because she can help you locate Eli.”
“How?”
“I might know where he’s hiding,” Amy said. “Might.”
“Might is more than we have.”
“There’s an old, dilapidated barn on my father-in-law’s property.” Amy peered down at her son. “Eli’s been seen coming and going from the building, but it appears empty.”
“Sounds like we have ourselves a secret room,” Wes said.
He crouched to speak with Noah. He nodded to the small boy clutching Amy’s leg. “Who’s your friend?”
“My brother Tobias.”
“He has a bear claw like yours.”
Noah’s face scrunched into anger, though he said nothing.
Amy caught Deke’s gaze. “His granddad—”
“Step-granddad,” Noah corrected.
“Mr. Harwood gave the claw to Tobias.”
“Rrrow!” Tobias smiled, nearly taking out Deke’s eye before his mother caught his arm.
Deke waggled his fingers against Tobias’s ribs, causing the boy to giggle. Then he turned to Noah and whispered in the boy’s ear. “Don’t worry about the claw. Many believe it’s bad luck to carry one.” Not a complete lie. Several native tribes saw the claw as a symbol of strength and courage. He’d never seen any mention of luck.
To Amy, he asked, “Mind if I speak to Noah about the barn?”
Amy cast a worried look between her boys. “I’d rather you not in front of Tobias.”
“How about I give the cub a ride on my shoulders?” Matteo offered and waited for Amy’s nod. “Hello, Tobias. I’m Matteo. Do you want to go for a ride? You can see for miles up here.”
Tobias raised his hands in the air. “Yes!”
“Let’s leave this—” Matteo tugged the claw from the boy’s grip, “—with your mama so you can hang on.” He made a big show of scooping the boy up onto his shoulders before disappearing into the park.
“Noah, what can you tell us about your Uncle Eli and the barn?” he asked.
The boy shrugged. “He spends a lot of time there.”
“Does he have a special place in the barn?”
“Dunno. I’ve seen him walk inside, then he vanishes.”
“Ever see him carry anything in or out of the barn?”
“A few times. I think he goes there mostly at night.”
“Can you describe what he’s carried inside?”
Another shrug. “Blankets, grocery bags, jugs of liquid.”
Amy caught his eye before addressing her son. “Noah, why don’t you go find your brother.” She pointed into the dark. “I hear him over there.”
“I’m headed that way myself,” Wes said. “Mind if I walk with you?”
“No, sir.”
“Got any good fishing holes around here?” Wes asked, as the two wandered off.
“What’d you have?” he asked.
“My mother-in-law missed fixing the evening meal.”
“Why is that significant?”
“She never has before.” Amy’s attention fixed on her clasped hands. “Caleb and my father-in-law found her a few hours ago.”
“Where?”
“Just inside the abandoned barn.” She swallowed. “The dogs found her body. She’d been stabbed dozens of times.”
“Eli?” Rae asked.
“No way to tell, but Eli’s not answering his phone. Caleb’s searching for his brother now.”
“Do you think Eli’s capable of killing his own mom?” he asked.
“Eli’s always been odd. It’s difficult to explain—”
“Don’t worry about it. We understand.”
“Tell my son about the incident a couple weeks ago,” Iris said, giving Amy an encouraging squeeze.
“I walked into the living room to wake my mother-in-law from her nap and found Eli standing over her. Just standing there, staring at his mother.”
He shared a look with the Steele brothers.
“The dude’s snapped,” Reid said.
“Get everyone together.” He prayed Evie didn’t do anything to set off Eli again. If he could kill his mom, he wouldn’t think twice about murdering the woman who kicked his ass out the window. “We’ll target the barn.”
49
Evie’s rise to consciousness was slow and nauseating. Her stomach roiled with each small movement, and she was pretty certain someone had driven a spear through one temple and out the other.
Where was her right arm? She waggled her fingers, or at least thought she had. But nothing moved.
Why weren’t her eyes adjusting to the light? She’d never seen anything so black, so bottomless.
Slowly, she levered herself up with one arm and something slid on the ground beneath her. She patted the area and found her lifeless right arm. How long had it been trapped beneath her?
Smoothing a hand over her face, she sought the cloth covering her eyes.
Nothing.
Then she remembered. The trap door. The pit.
Sweet baby Jesus, no. Not the pit. “No, no, no!”
A frigid sweat covered her body and her breaths carved icicles down her throat. Her heart clamored against her chest wall. Her mind refused to settle. This wasn’t an imagined crisis, like the other times. This was the real deal, and her body knew it. Knew she would die in this rotting hellhole.
An image of Deke crowded into her mind. His sexy lopsided grin and teasing blue eyes warmed her insides, and her chaotic thoughts began to calm. Second by passing second, Deke grounded her, with nothing more than an illusionary smile.
She’d take it. Anything to get her through this nightmare.
Pinpricks attacked her right arm, confirming the thing was still alive. When she tested her fingers, only the tips curled on her command. It was a start.
Sticking out her good hand, she grappled for a wall, a chair, a hay bale, anything. She caught nothing but air. What was that rancid smell? She recognized it—part organic, part chemical—but her scrambled brains failed to identify the source.
With effort, she eased to her feet, checking the ceiling above to make sure it wasn’t low enough to conk her head. The moment she stood upright, a wave of disorientation struck, and her arms spread wide for balance.
“Dammit, Evie. Snap out of it.”
Her head hurt, but not so bad as to screw up her equilibrium. At least, she didn’t think so. Perhaps she had a mild concussion. Or could the absolute darkness be playing tricks on more than her senses? Maybe this was the reaction inmates had to solitary confinement. She’d always assumed it was the lack of human contact. Now she would have to reassess her assumption.
Shuffling her feet forward, she once again spread her arms wide, searching, for anything that might lead the way out of here. The farther she traveled from her original location, the worse the stench. She’d finally figured out the odor.
Rotting flesh.
“Oh, good Lord, that’s foul.”
Had a rat gotten stuck between the walls and died? Or a raccoon? It happened, especially in old farmhouses, where mice can become trapped in the walls. You just gotta wait out the stink.
Her shin caught on something and all thoughts of walls and rodents vanished. Reaching down, her fingertips probed the object. Long, narrow, and an odd combination of soft and hard.
Moving her hands to the right, she continued prodding at the object—until she reached a boot.
She screamed and would have shot backwards but for the hand that clasped around her arm.
“Hello, Evie Steele.”
Eli Harwood. He’d been down here with her the whole time. Listening to her struggles? Watching her? How?
A bone-rattling shiver took hold of her entire body. What did he have in store for her
? Nothing good. He’d killed his mother because she’d called him a terrible name. What would he do to the woman who’d started the chain of events?
“There’s nowhere for you to go.”
“Could you turn a light on, please?”
“Afraid of the dark?”
“I can’t see anything.”
“Just as well. I doubt you’d like the view.”
“Please. It doesn’t have to be much. A candle will do.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
A match strike, followed by a blinding flare of light. It took a while for her eyes to readjust. When they did, she noticed Eli lighting a fat candle sitting on top of a short wooden table in the shape of a drum, with an intricately carved wildlife scene decorating the exterior. The beautiful piece of furniture looked out-of-place in this dank underground cave.
Eli sat on the dirt floor, his back to the wall. An elaborate pair of goggles in his lap. His posture appeared too relaxed, his eyes too satiated. Another man sat next to him. Head cocked. Mouth slack.
“Is h-he dead?”
“Yes.”
The dead man carried some resemblance to Eli, though his features were more sleek, less bold. “Who is he?”
“Don’t matter anymore.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the man’s neck. The severe angle didn’t look natural. It looked…broken in half. Dear Lord.
“What are we doing down here?”
“Waiting.”
“For what?”
“Maybe it’s a whom.”
“Deke?” she whispered.
A sickening excuse for a smile appeared. The predatory glint in her captor’s eyes promised that her time was limited to however long it would take Deke to find her. Would he? Find her? How would he ever track them to this obscure location?
The pit was much more spacious than she’d expected, though she couldn’t see the entire room due to the limitations of the candle’s reach. A red and white cooler rested against one wall near a mattress with neat bedding. Clothes pegs dotted another wall, and at the opposite end of the pit stood a large rectangular table with thick iron cuffs on each side and at one end. Beyond the table dangled heavy chains and another, much smaller table housed bright objects gleaming in the candlelight.
Roaming Wild (Steele Ridge Book 6) Page 26