Reunion Mission (Rangers Under Fire)

by Virginia Vaughan

  Claire’s mind whirled as she hung up with Garrett. She prayed Matt was safe. But why would Preston tell her that Matt had left her? She knew he wasn’t fond of Matt, but if he was truly in trouble surely Preston didn’t dislike him so much that he would allow something bad to happen to Matt without intervening. Her mind couldn’t process that Preston would be so cold...although he had been very threatened by Matt.

  This was crazy. She was talking about the man who’d just saved her and Jessica’s lives. He’d arrived at the school just in time to keep Principal Spencer from shooting them both, and he’d been forced to kill the man to prevent that. After all Preston had done, she shouldn’t be doubting his intentions.

  Yet she did.

  She couldn’t deny the facts. She didn’t believe Matt had left her, but Preston claimed he had. One of them was wrong, and she wasn’t ready to give up on Matt.

  She dialed Matt’s number again, hoping and praying this time for a response. She heard Preston in the other room and headed toward him. She had to convince him that he was wrong about Matt and persuade him to help her find him.

  She pushed open the sliding door and saw him pull a phone from his pocket. He took it out and looked at it, then shook his head, a flash of anger on his face before he pushed the button to send it to voice mail, then slid it back into his pocket. The ringing on her phone stopped and it went to voice mail and she heard Matt’s soft baritone telling her to leave a message.

  She stepped back through the doorway and let the phone disconnect as she processed what she’d just seen. It had to be coincidence, didn’t it, that the phone in Preston’s pocket rang at the same time she’d called Matt’s and that her call went to voice mail right as he pushed the button? She couldn’t see the phone in his hand clearly, but it had been an iPhone and she was certain Matt had an iPhone. But then so did Preston. So did she. She told herself she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t help redialing Matt’s number just to make certain.

  She peeked around the door frame again and spotted Preston. As the phone began to ring in her ear, she heard a buzzing sound coming from his pocket. He pulled out the phone again and she heard him mutter her name under his breath before pressing the button again to send it to voice mail. In her ear, the line went right to Matt’s familiar voice telling her to leave a message.

  She moved quickly but quietly away from the door and rushed outside to the back patio, her mind swirling with information she couldn’t even begin to process. Was it really true? Had she seen what she thought she’d seen? Did Preston really have Matt’s phone? But why would he?

  Her phone rang, startling her. She spotted Garrett’s number pop up and she quickly answered.

  “Claire, I pinged Matt’s cell phone. I have a location. He’s at 270 Northridge Road in Lakeshore.”

  She sighed, Garrett’s words confirming what she already knew. “This is 270 Northridge Road.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m at my friend Preston’s house. I think I just saw him with Matt’s phone. Why would he have Matt’s phone? And, more important, why wouldn’t he tell me?”

  “How well do you trust your friend?”

  She wanted to say she trusted him completely, and once upon a time she had. But those words refused to come. “I want to trust him, but I don’t know.” It was too horrible what she was thinking. She’d known Preston for years. He was a respected member of the Lakeshore police, but logic told her that being a cop was the best cover for a drug dealer. Was it possible Preston was the man behind Spencer, the man who’d ordered Luke killed? Then why burst in and kill his own man to save her life?

  She sighed as she realized the truth. Preston was always trying to play the hero.

  “I think you should get out of there, Claire.”

  She wanted to, but she couldn’t, not yet. “Not until I know what’s happened to Matt.”

  “How are you going to find that out?”

  “I’ll search the house. I’m not leaving until I know Matt isn’t tied up here somewhere. He could have him stashed in the basement or the garage.”

  “It would be pretty risky to keep him tied up in the same house with you.”

  She sighed at the truth. “Preston is nothing if not cocky. He would think since he’s a police officer, no one would question him.”

  “I don’t like this,” Garrett stated. “Matt will kill me if something happens to you. I’m coming to get you out of there.”

  “No! Matt knows I make my own decisions.”

  She disconnected the line and stared back at the house. She wanted nothing more than to flee across the lawn and get away from the man who’d tricked her. She’d gushed and praised him for coming to their rescue, but had Preston’s savior act just been a ruse to make himself the hero? She thought so. But how could someone who claimed to care for her also try to kill her and frame her for murder?

  She didn’t want to go back into that house and pretend everything was fine and that she didn’t know that Preston had betrayed her. But she would. If he had Matt stashed somewhere inside, she wouldn’t leave this house until she found him.

  * * *

  Matt leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He’d been pounding away at the door for what seemed like hours and he wasn’t making any headway. The door was solid and so far he hadn’t been able to budge it.

  He raked a hand through his hair, wiping away dirt and sweat. He hadn’t felt this alone and vulnerable and out of control since...

  ...the night of the ambush.

  A grenade explosion had sent him flying backward down the mountain, falling several feet, then landing hard on his back, causing the cracked vertebrae he’d sustained along with a fractured ankle. He’d known he should move to find safety, but the pain was just too great. Above him, he’d heard gunfire, rapid at first, then steadily declining in frequency, and he’d wondered if they’d killed everyone already. And if they would soon be coming for him, too.

  Still, he hadn’t been able to move. He’d just lain in the dirt and stared up at the night sky, the stars shining so brightly against the black canvas. He hadn’t known it then, but he was now sure it had been God who’d held him and kept him safe that night.

  He thought about that night now as he sat in the dark. The image of the stars shining so brightly had never left him. Now he thought about Joseph and his time in the pit where his brothers had tossed him. Had he looked up, able to see only the stars of the night sky and known God was with him? Thousands of years had passed between them, but Matt knew they’d both been staring at the same sky, the same stars, crying out to the same God in desperation.

  He couldn’t see the sky where he was now, but he saw it in his mind’s eye and was reminded that God had not abandoned him then and He hadn’t abandoned him now. As He had with Joseph, God had a plan for Matt’s life. He would bring him out of this literal pit and restore him to his family.

  He wanted to see Alisa get married. He wanted to see her in her wedding gown and be there when she spoke her vows. He wanted to spend one more day with his parents and tell them how much he loved them and appreciated all they’d done for him.

  But most of all, he wanted one more day with Claire. One more moment where he could see the sparkle in her big blue eyes and feel his heart kick up a notch when she smiled up at him. He longed for one more chance to take her into his arms and let her know his love for her had never faltered, even if he had. For the first time in a long while, he looked forward to his future because of her.

  Oh, God, I need to tell her I love her, he prayed silently. I need to show her how beautiful and desirable she is and ask her to be my wife.

  But first he had to get out of his pit.

  And he couldn’t do it alone. He’d given it everything he’d had and failed. He had no control over his own future and that frightened him, b
ut it also was a painful relief. He set down the burden of escape like a weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders. Nothing he did could rescue him from this basement.

  Instead, he gave the matter to God and waited.

  TEN

  Claire feigned a headache and told Preston she needed to go lie down in the spare bedroom. He offered to bring her some pain reliever, but she waved him away, insisting all she needed was sleep.

  Once in the guest room, she grabbed extra pillows from the closet and stuffed them beneath the blankets, trying to make it look like a person sleeping. It wouldn’t fool Preston if he stepped into the room, but maybe it would fool him long enough for her to search the house to make sure he didn’t have Matt tied up somewhere.

  She opened the door cautiously and peered out. The hallway was clear and she could hear Preston’s voice from the study below. She started on the top floor, searching the bedrooms and not expecting to find anything, but she had to check them regardless. She heard Preston in the study speaking on the phone, so she snuck down the back stairs to check out the basement.

  She pushed open the heavy door but found nothing out of the ordinary, no signs of Matt or any indication he’d been there. But then did she even know what it was she was looking for except to stumble across Matt himself?

  She went back upstairs and decided to check the garage next. She tiptoed through the kitchen to the garage entrance. She saw nothing, so she searched through the storage room, still finding nothing. She opened the door to Preston’s car and scanned inside, looking for some clue, any clue that might lead her to Matt’s whereabouts.

  She went back inside, worried that she was finding nothing. Was she wrong about Preston? Was she jumping to conclusions? After all, Preston was the one person who had always been there for her.

  She leaned against the kitchen counter, contemplating what to do. She lifted her head and saw the wooden knife block, identical to the one in Claire’s kitchen, tucked into a corner. Only, this one had all the knives present.

  Identical to the one in her kitchen.

  That sinking feeling hit Claire again, but she couldn’t resist reaching for the chef’s knife, grabbing its cold, metal handle and pulling it out. Her heart sank when she saw the slightly bent tip of the knife where she’d used it to pry open a can of peaches and had never been able to press it back straight. It suddenly all made sense to her. Preston had had access to her house. He’d supplied Spencer with his own knife to kill Luke, then replaced it with hers when he’d decided to frame her for the murder. And he would have had an easy time transferring her fingerprints to the murder weapon.

  She shuddered, realizing how much planning and preparation her supposed friend had put into framing her for the murder of a student. But had his plan been to eventually find evidence to exonerate her—even if he had to manufacture it—or to let her go to prison for murder?

  She thought back to all the times she’d spent with him alone. He’d been the one to tell her that people hid their true selves. She knew now he’d been talking about himself. How long had he been involved in illegal activities? Since she’d known him? Had he come to Lakeshore already a criminal mastermind?

  She’d searched the house and it seemed Matt was not being held here. She should phone Garrett to let him know, but she also knew Garrett would insist on her leaving and she couldn’t; she wouldn’t leave until she knew what Preston had done with Matt. And she was now absolutely convinced that Preston was behind Matt’s sudden disappearance.

  It was time to confront him outright with her suspicions and demand to know what he’d done with Matt.

  She walked into the study, where he was working at his desk.

  “Feeling better?” he asked as she sat on the couch and picked up a book, pretending she was going to read it.

  “Better,” she assured him, wondering if he could see the contempt she now held for him in her eyes.

  But how could she get Preston to admit what he’d done? She had an idea. She pulled her phone from her pocket and again dialed Matt’s number. It began to ring and so did the phone in Preston’s pocket.

  He met her eyes as the phone in his pocket continued to ring. Finally, he reached in and pulled it out, pressing the off button.

  She moved her phone from her ear and stood to face him. “Why do you have Matt’s cell phone?”

  He sighed, then scrolled through the call list. “Eight calls, Claire. You’ve called this phone eight times in the past four hours.”

  “Why do you have Matt’s phone? What did you do to him?”

  He stood, too, and approached her. “What did I do to him? How about what he did to me? He swoops back into town after abandoning you and all you can think about is him. He left you, Claire. I’ve been here for you every day, Claire. I’ve been here. He hasn’t. But even now you can’t think of anything but him.” He raked a hand over his face, obviously frustrated with her.

  But he was right about one thing—all she cared about right now was Matt. “Where is he, Preston? Did you do something to him? Did you hurt him?” She couldn’t help the way her voice shrieked at the thought.

  He turned to glare at her, rage brimming in his eyes and his breath raspy. He smacked her across the face with the back of his hand, knocking her to the floor. As he stood over her, Claire knew he was capable of real violence and her heart sank. It was true. He had done something to Matt.

  She crawled to her feet and faced him again, her cheek stinging and probably red where he’d hit her. “Where is Matt?”

  He hit her once more and this time she landed on the couch. His cool composure unraveled. His hands went in the air and he began pacing and muttering. “What else can I do, Claire? I’ve given you everything you’ve ever asked me to. I’ve been here day after day after day and watched you pine after someone who didn’t even have the courtesy to call to check on you in ten years. Tell me what else I can do?”

  She touched her lip with her finger and it brought back blood. She glared at him again. “You had Luke killed. You gave Spencer the knife and made him kill Luke.”

  “There are some things you don’t mess with, Claire. A man’s business is one of them. Luke was a liability. You made Luke a liability. You killed him.”

  Claire stared up at Preston, seeing him anew for the first time. How could the man she’d known for so long become the monster before her? And, more important, what had he done with Matt?

  * * *

  A noise above him jerked Matt awake. He was still surrounded by darkness, still locked in the basement, but someone was coming.

  He leaped to his feet and wiped his hands on his pants to get rid of the sweat and grime. He needed to be sure-handed because whoever walked through that door was going to have to face him. No matter what he had to do, that door would not shut him up inside this basement again.

  He pushed himself against the wall, hidden as much from view as he could get when the door opened and someone started down the steps. The light from above cut through the darkness, but all Matt saw was a figure heading down the steps.

  The moment the person touched the floor with his foot, Matt grabbed him from behind and locked his arms around his head.

  The intruder dropped something—a gun probably—and grabbed Matt’s arms, struggling to loosen his grip, but Matt’s hold was firm and tight. He shifted his weight and tossed him to the floor.

  “No, stop!” His captor’s hands were in the air, and his pleading caused Matt to focus on his attacker. It was the boy, Ryan, fearfully staring up at him, his eyes begging for mercy.

  Matt’s blood boiled at the thought that they’d sent a seventeen-year-old kid to kill him. Preston Ware had reached a new low in Matt’s book.

  “I didn’t come here to hurt you,” Ryan said. “I came to let you out.”

  Matt grabbed for whatever the boy
had dropped and saw it was a pair of bolt cutters.

  “I cut the lock. I came to release you.”

  Matt glared at him. He already knew Ryan had replaced Luke as Spencer’s lackey. That meant do as you’re told or else. “Why?” Matt demanded. He needed to know if this kid was telling the truth.

  “Because of Miss Kendall.”

  Matt’s eyes widened, fear suddenly punching him in the gut. “Has something happened to Claire?”

  “Detective Ware had her lured to the school, then busted in to play the hero. He shot Principal Spencer, who was supposed to be his partner. When I realized what had happened, I got out of there fast. If he would kill Spencer, I wondered what he would do to me.”

  “What does this have to do with Claire?”

  “She asked me where my line was. What would be so bad that I wouldn’t want to do it? Then she told me they would make me do it. I realized she was right. I lost my best friend. I watched someone get shot and I made a girl I care about cry out of fear for what I might do to her.” Matt saw tears form in the kid’s eyes. “I don’t want to be that person. But Detective Ware is still out there. He’s still dangerous. And then I remembered Miss Kendall said you could help. I knew he had locked you down here. Can you do it? Can you stop Detective Ware?”

  Matt reached for the boy’s hand and pulled him to his feet. This was the mission God had been preparing him for—to stop a drug-dealing killer from preying on anyone else...especially Claire.

  “Let’s go, kid.” Matt ran up the steps and out of the building. He saw a car that he knew had to belong to Ryan. “I’m driving,” he said, and Ryan tossed him the keys. As he started the engine, he thought about Garrett and Josh. He would need their help in bringing down Preston, but first he had to warn Claire about the man. “Let me use your cell phone.” Ryan handed it over and Matt dialed Claire’s phone as they sped away back toward town. It went straight to voice mail.

  He then dialed Garrett’s number.