Sanctuary Buried WITSEC Town Series Book 2

by Lisa Phillips

  Hal wandered over. The aging biker’s leather jacket had tassels on the sleeves and multiple patches signifying things Frannie had no idea about. His long hair was streaked with gray and tied at the back of his neck with a leather thong. “Darlin’.”

  “Don’t try and change my mind, Hal.” Frannie clutched her stuff to her front. “I’m going home.”

  His chest rumbled with laughter. “I was only goin’ to offer to carry your bag.”

  “Oh.” She shifted, and he took it from her. “Thanks, Hal.”

  “Not to worry, darlin’.”

  Sonny and Louis came over, helping her off the bed so she could walk with her arms through theirs.

  She smiled. “I’m looking forward to being able to get around without a bunch of old men holding me upright.”

  Sonny patted her arm. “We’ll always hold you up. You know that.”

  She did, but didn’t have the chance to tell them so before they met John in the hallway. The sheriff rocked back on his boots and said, “Maybe you don’t need my protection. Looks like you’ve got your own army of bodyguards.”

  She smiled. “Looks like it.”

  Think on these things.

  “Still, I’ll give y’all a ride anyway.”

  It didn’t take long to get them all to the bakery, but it was squished in the car. Frannie left the lights off inside. She couldn’t face whatever state the place was in, or the memories of Matthias standing so close to Izzy. She just walked straight to the stairs and flipped on the upstairs light.

  John stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll go first. You stick here with the guys, and I’ll be back down in a second.”

  She nodded, looking at the four men waiting with her. They really were an army of bodyguards. But more than that, these men were the closest thing to a real family she’d had since she arrived in Sanctuary.

  The peace of God will be with you.

  Michael sent her a look. “Don’t cry now, Frannie. You look like you’re gonna lose it.”

  “I am not.” Even though tears welled up, she folded her arms and lifted her chin.

  Louis snorted. “Whatever you tell yourself, Francesca. But you haven’t lost it yet.” He stepped closer, holding her attention in his silver gaze. “Don’t break now, when it’s almost done.”

  Hal reacted immediately. “Macho idiot.” He elbowed Louis out of the way and received a scathing glare in return, but Hal didn’t pay any attention to it.

  Hal laid his worn hands on the shoulders of her T-shirt. “Darlin’, you don’t have to be strong. That’s why we’re all here. There’s four of us standing with you, taking your back. Outside of here there’s a whole town of people we had to fight away. You’ve got organized protection for the next month we had so many volunteers.”

  “Seriously?”

  Hal nodded. “These people love you. They don’t expect you to be hit with the weight of the world and stay standing. They’re only worried about you getting hurt more than you already have been.”

  John appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Hal’s right, Frannie.” He glanced at the men. “Apartment’s all clear.”

  Frannie looked at her feet for a second and then back up. “I know what Hal said is right, and I’m grateful everyone cares. But this can’t go on for a month. We need to catch this guy in the act. Maybe I can—”

  All of them reacted. “No.” The word was in stereo.

  “I’m not sitting around doing nothing, waiting for him to come at me again.”

  “You’re not going out looking for him either,” John said. “Apart from the fact Matthias would tan my hide for not looking out for you, I won’t let you do that. If this guy comes, we’ll be ready. If not, this is your life. It’s a precious thing, and we’re not going to risk you for anything in the world. I think everyone here would agree with me.”

  They all nodded. Louis did not look happy.

  Frannie sighed. It was nice they all cared so much, but it wasn’t going to solve her problem. Frannie needed her life back. If she had to be in danger to make that happen, she was starting to wonder if it might not be worth it. Matthias would just have to understand.

  Frannie tried to hide how strenuous it was to climb the stairs. She was ready to crash on the floor and sleep for a week. If only she could avoid the dreams. The guys were a good distraction, but they weren’t going to keep the nightmares at bay.

  Frannie stopped and looked around. A couch with comfy cushions sat facing a coffee table on a dark red rug, and a short unit topped by a widescreen TV that didn’t overtake the whole room. Paintings hung on two walls, and a vase of flowers topped a small, two-person table.

  “Holy cow.”

  John chuckled. The guys dispersed through Frannie’s brand new furnished living room, Michael and Hal going straight for the fridge. He smiled at her. “I’ll be keeping an eye on outside.”

  Frannie nodded, still unable to believe what Nadia Marie had been able to pull off.

  A pounding knock on the door downstairs made Frannie jerk

  She moved to the office, which had been cleaned and organized. She looked out the window to the sidewalk below. “It’s Matthias.”

  John’s voice was soft. “Do you want me to let him in?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to see him right now.” She could barely think straight, and he would want to talk.

  John nodded. “I’ll tell him on the way out.”

  Frannie didn’t move from her spot by the window. She watched Matthias take a step back when John exited the front of the bakery. Matthias moved to enter, but John stopped him with a hand to his chest. John spoke close, like he was letting him down easy, but Matthias reacted.

  Frannie’s fingers tightened on the frame of the window until it bit into her skin. Matthias looked really upset. He glanced up for a second and saw her in the window. She saw his mouth move, yelling her name. Frannie didn’t move. Seconds ticked by while she was frozen, watching the agony on his face that she wouldn’t talk to him—that he didn’t know if she believed her sister’s story and couldn’t convince her how he felt.

  Frannie backed away from the window.

  Matthias would stick with her, she knew it. He would hurt until they could straighten this out, just as she would. But Frannie couldn’t give him what he wanted until she’d untangled the mess in her head.

  All she could see was him in her face, yelling about her having been unfaithful. And the priest.

  She really shouldn’t have read the play before she fell asleep.

  Publish it that she is dead.

  **

  Thanksgiving pie orders had piled up while Frannie was in the medical center. A pile of them were stacked on the desk. She sorted through them, though they were the almost the same every year. The monotony of the task helped her thoughts to quiet. When she could breathe, Frannie looked out of the window again. Matthias wasn’t standing by the door anymore. His truck was parked across the street and Frannie watched him drop the tailgate and climb in the back, where he rolled out a sleeping bag and settled down.

  This was what he was going to do with his evening? Frannie sighed and shook her head.

  In the living room she could hear the guys arguing.

  “Hey, Frannie!” Michael called out. “You got any nacho cheese? Never mind, I found it!”

  Frannie frowned. The cupboards and fridge were empty, weren’t they? She didn’t have anything edible in the kitchen unless someone put it there.

  “You want some?” He yelled again.

  “No thanks!” She slumped into the desk chair. The guys couldn’t expect her to actually eat something spicy like nachos and then have a dream-free sleep, could they? They were supposed to be protecting her, not giving her heartburn.

  The phone on her desk rang.

  “Frannie?” Sonny stuck his head in the door.

  She waved him off. “I got it.”

  Sonny waited.

  “Francine Peters?”

/>   “Yes.” She felt her brow flicker, and Sonny noticed. “This is Francine. What can I help you with?”

  “What makes you think I need any help?” The voice slipped, and a drawl emerged. Nigel was the only person in town with a Texas accent. So why was he trying to pretend it wasn’t him?

  Frannie looked at Sonny, and nodded. He needed to know this wasn’t a normal phone call. His eyes hardened. She’d figured he would immediately go and tell all the guys, but he didn’t move.

  “Well then, what was your reason for calling, Mr…”

  He didn’t take the bait. “I don’t think my name will make much difference at this point.”

  Except she was pretty sure it was Nigel. She could picture him in her head as he spoke.

  “If you want, you may call me the angel of death.”

  Frannie froze. Nigel was the killer? The mental image of him running at her in Stella’s room arrested her thoughts so all she could see and hear was that moment, and the rush of adrenaline forcing her heart to beat at hyper-speed. Had it really been the newspaper editor?

  She tried to remember if the build was the same, but couldn’t decide if it felt like it could have been Nigel in Stella’s room that night, or not.

  Sonny walked over. She heard his footsteps before he crouched, his knee joints popping. He set his hand on her shoulder, and Frannie sent him a look that was supposed to be reassuring. He didn’t look convinced.

  Clarity distilled her thoughts. “Are you saying you’re the one who killed Harriet Fenton, you tried to kill Stella and would have if I hadn’t intervened?”

  “And why would I admit that, especially when your phone is likely bugged? This is hardly a confession.”

  Yet that was exactly what the letter had proclaimed to be.

  She’d signed an agreement which meant the government could put her under whatever surveillance they wanted, even though it would be inadmissible in court. They didn’t need a trial to kick someone out of witness protection. All that was part of living here; signing away the better part of her right to a private life meant they were safe.

  Frannie didn’t care if everyone was listening if it meant they found this guy. “If you don’t intend to confess, what did you call for?”

  “Now there’s a good question.” His voice was sardonic, as though this whole turn of events was beneath him. “There’s a woman here I think you will be interested in, especially given the condition she’s in. Whether or not she remains that way is up to you, Francine.”

  “Is she hurt?” She didn’t want to ask if the woman was dead, that was unbearable.

  Sonny’s eyes scanned her face as she gripped the phone.

  Nigel chuckled, a low and dark sound. “You could say that.”

  **

  Matthias shifted lower in the sleeping bag with John’s tablet out of sight and the brightness turned all the way down. He nodded even though the guys couldn’t see him, and spoke into his headset. “If you’re right and it is Nigel…”

  John said, “I’ll get him. I’m on my way to his house now.” Matthias could hear him running.

  Bolton chimed in. “Dude, your woman could’ve been a hostage negotiator. She’s holding her own, don’t you worry about that.”

  Matthias didn’t really want his boss’s opinion on the way Frannie dealt with a killer, but it was nice to know she was hanging in there. The woman was stronger than anyone he’d ever met if she could deal with a repeat killer and keep her cool without her voice even wavering.

  John’s voice crackled in the headset, his breath coming hard. “I’m on B Street.”

  Matthias tapped and swiped through the database John had stored on his tablet. “Six houses in on the left hand side, that’s Nigel’s.”

  There were a ton of places Matthias wanted to be, and none were in his truck on the street. Top of the list was inside with Frannie. He’d grab the phone from her so he could deal with this sicko himself. Second was in the basement of the library, hooked into the phone call instead of Bolton, listening to her voice for himself. But the guys knew he’d likely not be able to resist chiming in and telling Nigel exactly what he thought of the man terrorizing Frannie.

  John’s voice was steady. “I’m entering the house now.”

  Matthias wouldn’t mind John’s job right now either, feeling like he was actually doing something. Whoever this woman was Nigel had hurt, John was the one who was going to find and help her.

  But Matthias’s position put him closest to Frannie.

  Bolton muttered into the radio, “She needs to get him to tell her who the woman is, and where they’re at.”

  “Clear,” John said. “Nigel’s house is clear. They’re not here.”

  “His office, then?” Matthias thought aloud.

  “I’ll head there next. Stand by.”

  Matthias looked back up at the office. If she’d let him in, he could tell her they needed more information.

  “That’s a girl,” Bolton muttered.

  If the tablet was physically connected to the town’s internal network, Matthias could tap in and listen to the call. Sanctuary’s internal phone system was constantly recorded, and periodically the recordings were sent to the NSA. Lately they’d had to be sent as physical copies—a box of CDs—since the president’s family being in town meant security was even stricter and their satellite internet connection had been disconnected.

  Who knew when it would be back up? But the town seemed to be doing okay going back to snail mail correspondence.

  “There we go…”

  Matthias gritted his teeth. “What? What did she get?”

  “John—”

  The sheriff interrupted. “Nigel’s office is clear, too.”

  “Frannie asked for proof of life.” Bolton said, “He’s at Maria’s.”

  Matthias’s whole body went solid. “Maria?”

  John’s breath came fast. “I’m on my way.” Matthias could hear the pounding of John’s boots on the sidewalk as he tore across town, no longer concerned with stealth. If anyone could get there before his sister was seriously hurt it was the sheriff. John wouldn’t waste time if it risked someone’s life, but he had to balance against the threat.

  All of which Matthias knew in theory, but these men had lived it. John had held down a high-profile, dangerous federal agent job, and Matthias didn’t figure Bolton’s was much different—not given everything the man knew. A ranch hand who’d lived his whole life in Sanctuary didn’t quite measure up, even with the training Bolton had given him. They were content to involve him, to make him count, but Matthias was content to lean on them if it meant the difference between life and death for Maria.

  Matthias said, “Bolton. Connect to the doctor’s extension and tell him he might be needed.”

  “Good plan.”

  John said, “I’m at Maria’s. House is dark. I’m headed inside.”

  Matthias held his breath and waited.

  Seconds.

  A minute.

  “Drop your weapon, Nigel.” John paused for a second. “Bolton, have the doctor meet me here.”

  “No! I’m the dark angel. She has to die, just like they all had to die.”

  “Nigel, drop your weapon.”

  Matthias’s stomach clenched. He could hear Maria’s cries in the background. He jumped off the bed of the truck and climbed into the cab. As soon as the engine turned over he hit the gas and drove as fast as he could through town. Frannie had protection. Maria needed him now.

  The past played like a bad B-movie reel through his mind. His dad, fist pulled back ready to punch Maria again. His mom’s scream.

  Matthias gripped the steering wheel, feeling the wood frame of the chair in his hands. The thump as he hit his father.

  “I won’t go in. I won’t.” Nigel’s protest was followed by a thud, and grunting.

  Bolton said, “On my way.”

  “Me, too.” Matthias turned the corner so fast the car almost tipped onto two wheels.

&nbs
p; Maria was still screaming.

  Nigel yelled, “I won’t go down for this. She made me do it. She said it would be easy, that Maria’s crazy.” He was crying aloud now.

  John’s voice was level and clear. “Who?”

  Nigel cried for a few seconds and then rallied himself to say, “She told me if I really loved her, then I’d do it.”

  “Who?”

  “Mimi. She wanted me to scare them both.”

  Chapter 21

  Frannie was back at the medical center, this time with it full of people. It seemed like everyone had turned out to see if Maria was okay. Her family was there, with the notable exception of Antonia. Tom looked chastised, mostly concentrating on corralling the twins who were playing tag in the waiting area. Father Wilson was trying to talk to him, but Tom wasn’t really paying him any attention. Nadia Marie and Andra stood with Beth, talking low and keeping one eye on the boys every time they passed.

  Frannie and her posse of old men bodyguards crossed the room so she could speak to Olympia.

  Matthias’s mom held her arms out. “Precious.”

  Frannie sank into the embrace, feeling the hot rush of tears hit her eyes as a lump filled her throat. Olympia made shushing sounds as she stroked Frannie’s back. Why couldn’t this woman be her mom? Instead Frannie had been birthed by a woman with no moral code and no sense of decency, who barely tolerated her existence. Had Mimi simply given Frannie’s father what he wanted—a legacy?

  Frannie leaned back before she dissolved completely. “How is Maria?”

  Olympia didn’t let her go all the way, for once giving Frannie the impression she needed the comforting physical contact as much as Frannie did. “Shaken, but not too badly hurt.”

  She looked over Frannie’s shoulder, so Frannie turned and saw Matthias making his way to them. He kissed his mom’s cheek and glanced at her with no small amount of longing. “The sheriff has Nigel in custody. Bolton is bringing in Mimi so they can find out the extent of what went down.”

  Frannie blinked. “You knew?”

  “Bolton was listening in.” Matthias’s earpiece was still in one ear, the chord hanging down the front of his shirt to the radio on his hip. “He said you did a good job talking to Nigel. You got us the information we needed to get to Maria before it was too late.”