by DiAnn Mills
“A shower for starters.”
“You could get one in a swamp.”
He chuckled. “I need to see if anything’s missing from my house.”
“I understand, but you scare me. Text me when you’re back in hiding.”
The phone clicked off, and Jason switched to vibrate. Fifty percent charged, so he placed it in his pocket to charge the battery once at home. He had about two and a half hours until sunup. After parking on the west side of his land, he grabbed his gun and jogged to his house. All those years of camping had provided him with reliable instincts. So long as he didn’t stir up any wild hogs or Willis Lennox.
He hadn’t been home since the evening of Russell’s death. According to Kevin, law enforcement had conducted a thorough search and his place came up clean. That surprised Jason since Willis had doggedly gone after him. Maybe there hadn’t been time to plant evidence. How much could Willis accomplish in one night?
Fluffy had a bark that woke the dead unless he smelled Jason first. The dog came bounding toward him, and Jason gave him the attention he deserved. After ensuring no one kept watch, he entered the rear of his two-story home, which he and Lily had designed. She’d wanted a farmhouse with an L-shaped porch, rocking chairs, and hanging plants in “strategic spots.” She adored landscaping, and together they’d laid out flower beds for year-round color. He smiled in the darkness, remembering how Lily called him the Fixer-Upper of East Texas.
Lily never met a recipe she didn’t like, and her kitchen contained everything she dreamed of—a farmhouse sink, concrete countertops, plenty of her favorite distressed white cabinets, and hardwoods. Together they’d overseen every inch of the four-thousand-square-foot home. They talked about having four children. Now he and Isabella had more room than they’d ever need.
Jason leaned against the doorway to the dark kitchen, allowing a few memories of those final days with Lily to wash over him. He’d watched her endure one stab of pain after another. Death had been a blessing no matter how much he missed her. The reminders were no longer as haunting but left a bittersweet feel.
He took a moment to relish a what-if. He’d snap on the kitchen light and see Lily smiling at him with those ocean-blue eyes. She’d ask about his day or tell him about one of her second graders. And she wouldn’t have a trace of cancer or pain. Her blonde hair would lie on her shoulders, and her pallor wouldn’t be the gray so characteristic of chemo and radiation treatments.
They’d planned a wonderful future together . . . taking Isabella camping . . . teaching her how to ride, hunt, and fish. For a moment, he thought he heard Lily’s laugh. When this nightmare ended, he’d never take family and friends for granted again.
April slid into his thoughts, and he pushed her away. This house, these memories, were his and Lily’s. Spending time contemplating April, especially here, in this place, seemed wrong.
With a deep breath, Jason locked the door behind him and, leaving the room dark, walked through the kitchen and on to the living room. A light from a pole mounted outside shone through the living area. Furniture cushions lay on the floor, desk drawers were pulled out and dumped, a lamp was shattered, and a closet door stood agape. The FBI didn’t destroy people’s belongings when they conducted a search. This was Willis’s trademark.
He stole looks through the windows to verify no one was lurking outside and hoped Willis had grown lax in watching his house—Jason needed a break. Mounting the stairs, he listened for indications of a trap. Using his flashlight, he searched each room and respective closets, finding his upstairs in the same disarray as the first floor. He showered and changed clothes.
The test to see if Willis or anyone else had found important papers or the flash drive was hidden downstairs. One of the extras he and Lily had incorporated into their home, but not in the original design, was a fireproof safe recessed in the pantry wall. Jason made his way to the kitchen, stepped inside the pantry large enough to be a small bedroom, closed the door, and snapped on the light. Pulling on a bulletin board revealed a small safe.
After entering the code, he reached inside. At first glance, everything looked to be in order. Lily wanted personal documents and some keepsakes within reach and not locked inside a bank. Jason believed banks were the safest, but she’d been right considering the invasion of his parents’ safe-deposit box.
He took out the deed to his ranch, his and Lily’s marriage license, birth certificates for the three of them, Lily’s death certificate, life insurance policies, his and Lily’s wedding rings, and a copy of his will giving Isabella his estate and making his parents guardians. A stack of twenty-dollar bills rested in the bottom. He stuffed ten of them into his jacket pocket and reached for a sealed, business-size envelope on the very bottom. Billie had asked him to keep it as well as the flash drive, and now he would read the contents. She must have suspected Willis would not give up until he found her and Zack.
He held the envelope in his hand. A photo was stuck to it, one of Isabella with chocolate smeared all over her face. Oh, to see her. Hold her. Inhale the sweetness of her.
Unwanted tears burned raw. Helplessness had him chained. The closer he attempted to grow to God, the more life tossed him explosives. He hated the deficiency in his character, the resorting to tears. Some said they cleansed a person’s soul, but Jason’s experience claimed otherwise. Being a man meant walking through trials and facing problems head-on, not this loathsome display of weakness.
The tears and agony refused to let him go. Each time he tried to stop, a new wave overcame him. Finally, wrung out like an old mop, he wiped his face.
Fluffy barked. His doggy alarm repeated.
Jason switched off the pantry light and opened the door. His eyes adjusted to the dark kitchen, quickly finding the window facing the side yard. Nothing stirred. Yet Fluffy’s bark persisted.
At the back door, Jason peered into the dark surroundings. He reached for the gun in his waistband and opened the door. Fluffy kept a loud vigil, facing the detached triple garage to the right.
“Jason.”
The familiar voice called his name again. April stepped from behind the garage, her small frame visible.
Jason quieted Fluffy.
“Thanks.” She walked his way.
“What are you doing here?” Agitation ground at his nerves. He tucked his gun away. “I could have shot you.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you might need my help if Willis or one of his men showed up.”
“You could have texted me.”
“I did.”
He groaned. “I put my phone on vibrate. Where’s your car?”
“I have your dad’s truck. The Chevy’s blocked in by your mom’s car.” She joined him on the porch. “I’d appreciate an introduction to Fluffy. He has a vicious bark.”
He shook his head in the darkness and encouraged Fluffy to his side. “Fluffy, this is April. She’s an FBI agent who shows up at unexpected times. Be nice to her because she carries a Glock.”
“Was that necessary?” she said.
“Let him sniff your hand.”
She obliged. “Pleased to meet you, Fluffy.”
“Was anyone watching the house?” he said.
“No. I simply wanted to offer my help. You’re a man who was caught off guard by a well-thought-out scheme. For the past year, you’ve been forced to stand strong during one tragedy after another.” She took his hand.
In the darkness, his eyes moistened. The warmth of her hand soothed the ache in his soul.
“You’re not alone, Jason.”
41
INSIDE, JASON LIT UP the kitchen breakfast area. If anyone approached the side of the house, he’d deal with them. He retrieved Billie’s note from the pantry and gestured for April to have a seat at the table.
April had been right, and the reminder was perfect timing. He wasn’t alone.
“I came for this envelope.” He held it up. “Billie asked me to read it. Whatever’s inside, she trusted me with the co
ntents.” He lifted the seal with his finger and eased out a single sheet of paper. A report from a medical clinic in Woodville.
Life had just gotten more complicated for all of them. He wiped his palms on his jeans.
“Is it serious?”
“Potentially. Billie’s pregnant with twins.”
April blinked. “She has three children to protect.”
“Now I understand another reason Billie chose to run. It’s the mothering instinct. When Lily learned we were pregnant, she’d already been diagnosed with cancer. Her ob-gyn suggested aborting the baby, but she refused. She wouldn’t choose her own life over her baby’s.”
“I understand Lily’s and Billie’s viewpoints.” April stared out the window to the darkness. “If in the same circumstances, I’d feel the same way.”
“You put Isabella above your own needs.”
She swung him a smile, a sad one, and he wondered where her thoughts had taken her. He glanced at his watch. “It’s late—or rather, early—but I want to talk to Simon.”
“We both have things to discuss with him.” She pulled her phone from beneath her sweatshirt. “But I want to make a list first.”
Jason stretched his back. “Let’s match yours to mine.” He grabbed his legal pad from the table and started writing:
I think Simon should know about Billie’s pregnancy. I just hope she’s not upset with my decision.
Where’s Joey Frederickson?
What’s Joey’s relationship with Willis?
Where does Brenda fit in all of this?
Who else is working with Willis?
Who killed Russell?
He shared his list. “What have I missed?”
“Who else Willis might have coerced?”
“If I try to put myself into Willis’s head, I’d have to ask, What matters the most? What sacrifice means spending the rest of his life in prison? For me it’s Isabella and my family. Willis is fueled by power and control, and the one thing he desperately craves is Billie and Zack. He’s angry, driven, and will do anything to have them under his roof again. If he had any idea about her pregnancy, he’d stop at nothing to find her.”
“When he’s already committed murder, what remains?”
He shook his head. “Burn down my house? That seems trivial after what he’s already done. For certain if he finds Billie and Zack, he’ll put me facedown in a pool of blood.”
At Jason’s kitchen table, April initiated a call to Simon.
Simon released a string of words that belonged in Romeo’s pasture. “It’s after five in the morning. Can’t a man have a few hours’ sleep? Unless you have a signed confession, this can wait until daylight.”
“We have critical information, Simon,” she said. “Turn on the light and listen.” She laid her phone between her and Jason, then pressed Speaker before continuing. “Has Billie Lennox phoned you?”
“Not yet.”
“Billie’s struggling with a decision to help us. Jason has a report from a clinic in Woodville indicating she’s pregnant with twins.”
“An abused wife on hormone overload?” Simon said. “Give me a sec. I’m bringing my laptop to life. The FIG has been working to track her down via the national database, so I’ll check the progress.” The clicking suggested he was typing. “Looks like I would have received this update in the morning. Billie’s living in Seattle and working as a receptionist for an accounting firm. We have her address. I’ll notify agents there to initiate an interview immediately. In the meantime, we should all try to get rest.”
“A little hard to rest when a man wants me dead,” Jason said, his voice void of emotion. “Before you head back to bed, I have questions. You just demonstrated how easy it is to find people. With all the FBI’s technology, why haven’t you found evidence to arrest Willis for suspected crimes?”
“We need solid proof that’s tied to a federal statute being violated in order for the FBI to charge him—proof admissible in a federal court.”
“As if April and I haven’t sent documentation? The whole Houston FBI should be camped here.”
“For every suspicious activity incriminating Willis, we have one against you or April.”
“I’m not a fool, Simon. He’s an elected public official responsible for upholding the law—and none of you have acted to remove him even temporarily from office while the investigation takes place,” Jason said. “What’s really going on? Are you thinking if he kills me, you have the evidence to put him away for good?”
“Simon, he deserves to know the truth.” April took Jason’s hand.
He jerked it back. “Have you been using me right from the start? Am I the bait to trap Willis? There’s nothing to lose since I was charged with murder.” His voice rattled around the room.
“You’re wrong.” April watched her credibility disappear before her. She hadn’t been briefed until driving there, and she feared losing his trust . . . and where her heart had taken her. “I’d never betray you. Neither would the FBI.”
“What’s the truth? Are either of you going to tell me?”
“Jason,” Simon began, “we need time to work out details so we can address your questions.”
“Maybe from where you sit.”
“You decided you were above the law and took an FBI agent hostage. After your fiasco, we saw you were in danger and requested a safe house. While you took advantage of protection for your daughter and mother, it appears you have little to no respect for law enforcement.”
Jason frowned. “You want to go fishing? Find someone else to be your lure.” He grabbed her phone and ended the call with Simon. “I’m done here.”
April gasped. “I just learned about—”
He stood and faced her. “Leave my home. Now.”
42
APRIL DROVE DARK, tree-lined back roads from Jason’s ranch toward Sweet Briar. The narrow gravel road forced her to stay under forty miles per hour, typical of the area. Jason had told her about snakes and wild animals that dwelled in marshes along those trees. She shivered and blinked back the moistness gathering in her eyes. The comforts of her own home drew her toward Houston.
Or were her tears for Jason? Her heart had taken a dive for him and Isabella. But friendship, affection, and potential love had no future when the beginnings were steeped in deception.
Anger burned inside her for not being told all the facts about Sheriff Willis Lennox. She’d been thrust into this situation and tried to peacefully bring Jason into custody without knowledge of the background. When Jason had flung his anger about being used, she’d attempted to shove aside the nasty attack on her self-confidence. Hadn’t worked. Once again she’d failed in her career, a pattern of late. Heeding her parents’ demands to teach political science on a university level swirled through her mind.
Breathe in and out. Dig deep for self-talk.
She squeezed her fingers around the steering wheel of Ted’s vintage truck. A week ago, she’d been cycling in a spin class. Obviously going nowhere. Life for certain had spun out of control.
She had to find the right words to tell Ted about the argument. Or should she say nothing? Concealing the emotional upheaval chipped at her upbringing of respecting her elders. Plus, the dear man was allowing her to stay in his home. She counted on him being asleep, and yet when he wakened, she’d feel compelled to reveal what little the investigation permitted. Ironic when she still didn’t have all the details herself.
Her career was the one aspect of her life that she depended on for security and significance. But since meeting Jason, she’d tossed all the rules out the window. She wasn’t sure she’d ever find herself on solid ground again.
She pressed in Simon’s number. When he answered, she placed herself in negotiation mode. “Tonight’s surprise could have been avoided.”
“Do you have any idea how I’ve fought to give you answers? I called you as soon as I received authorization.”
“We’re partners, Simon. You could have trusted me with
the truth instead of being all clandestine. Especially when I’ve been threatened and so have other innocent people.” She shoved calmness into every word in an effort not to unleash vile words she’d regret later.
Simon groaned. “We’ll talk more when we have a face-to-face.”
“I’m furious over how this has been handled.”
“April, you were the one who sided with Jason and took off on a course to prove his innocence. You should have brought him in. Period. We could protect him from Willis and those who are in his camp. But he refused and you supported him.”
“Are you suggesting the delayed arrests are my fault?”
She heard him blow out his angst. “Your work is commendable. Your record outstanding. But you made decisions without considering my recommendations.”
“Because I don’t understand the whole picture. All you’ve said is I don’t have clearance and the investigation with Willis remains ongoing.”
The silence fueled the heat rising up her neck and face.
“All right. I’ll give you more. Willis has been under surveillance for several months.”
How generous. “The fact that you kept me in the dark is a tough pill to swallow.”
“April, I don’t want predetermined protocol above my pay grade to cut a hole in our friendship.”
It already had. “What do you expect me to say?”
“Verbally punch me. Say what you’re feeling, anything but using psychology to beat me up.”
Simon really had no choice, and it was her pride that hurt. She wanted to forgive, but the case, her friendship with Simon—all looked murky.
Headlights in her rearview mirror caught her attention. They moved closer at incredible speed. She crushed the gas pedal. “I’m being tailed.”
Dropping the phone onto her lap, she took another look in the mirror. An SUV rode her bumper. She raced toward the highway three miles ahead. How fast could this truck go?
The SUV swerved into the oncoming lane and collided with the driver’s side of the truck. The sound of metal grinding against metal launched her into action mode. Adrenaline kicked into gear. She wrestled to keep the truck on the road.