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Nowhere to Turn

Page 19

by Lynette Eason

“Going to lose them.”

  The black car moved closer. Mitchell made a sudden right turn into a neighborhood. His friends were still there. Then Mitchell turned off the street and onto a walking trail.

  Where no car could follow. He looked back to see the car stopped and no one behind them.

  Simon breathed a sigh of relief.

  That was very short-lived. He motioned for Mitchell to stop. He needed more than one hand to get his point across.

  Mitchell braked and turned so he could see Simon. Simon looked around. Could see the roofs of houses through the thick trees. “You think you could get this thing into that other neighborhood?”

  “Through the trees?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mitchell shrugged. “We can try and walk it and see what happens.”

  “Good, because those guys following are going to be waiting where this walking trail ends.”

  “Who are they? Why are they following you?”

  “I think they’re people my uncle Stuart hired to find my mom. Only I’m going to make him stop them before that happens.” He saw Mitchell swallow hard and felt a twinge of guilt for getting his friend involved in something that might be dangerous. He hadn’t stopped to think about that when he’d hatched this plan. Nothing he could do now. He thought about turning Isaac’s phone on, but wasn’t quite ready for that yet. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Mitchell didn’t ask any more questions. Together, they pushed the bike, forging their own path through the dense trees. By the time they reached the edge, they were both sweating.

  At least there wasn’t a fence. They pushed the bike through the backyard, around the side of the house, and into the street. Mitchell climbed on and cranked it. Simon resumed his position in the back and held on as Mitchell led them out of the neighborhood and back onto the main road.

  Simon kept watch over his shoulder, but didn’t see anyone. He gave the directions to Mitchell who followed them without question.

  Within fifteen minutes, they pulled up in front of Stuart’s house.

  Dani stared at the blank paper in front of her, depressed to realize she had no idea what her son was thinking or where he would go. She had one name written down. Mitchell.

  With doubt in her heart, she wrote, Home.

  “Anyone and everyone, Dani,” Adam said. “Even the most unlikely ones.”

  “Well, I know he wouldn’t go to Stuart. Maybe Jenny? He likes her.”

  “Put her down. We’ll get in touch with her and have her on the lookout.”

  His phone rang while she wrote.

  “That’s what I figured,” he said. “Thanks.”

  She looked up. “What?”

  “That was Ralph. He said they found a whole setup in Stuart’s home office. He’s been watching you probably since Kurt died.”

  Nausea welled. “That’s so sick.”

  “He’s a sick person.”

  She shook her head. “What did I do wrong?”

  Adam shot her a quick frown, then looked back at the road. “What do you mean?”

  Dani sighed and looked in the mirrors. She could see Isaac behind. Tabitha was in front. “I don’t really know what I mean or if I could even explain it.”

  “Try me.”

  “My life has been one struggle after another. I look around and see others who have it so easy, are so privileged. And then I look at my life and I just wonder what I did that was so awful to deserve such pain.” She flicked her gaze out the window, wondering why she was baring her soul to a man she’d only known such a short time. But she needed someone to talk to and he seemed willing to listen. Why not see if he had some answers? “My childhood wasn’t horrible, but my father was killed in a car accident when I was little. I have almost no memories of him. My mother worked three jobs to support us. I was the nerdy one in high school, the one that got bullied and picked on.”

  “But you stuck with it and graduated.”

  “I knew if I dropped out, I would never be anything.” She lifted her chin. “That was so important to me. I wanted to be something. Someone.”

  “And then you met Kurt.”

  “Yes. Then I met Kurt.”

  “He swept you off your feet?”

  “Oh boy, did he.”

  “Tell me.”

  She pushed out her lip. “It’s a rather sad story. Sad in the sense that I was so vulnerable and stupid. And starstruck.”

  “Starstruck?”

  “He was a big bad FBI agent.” She gave him a self-deprecating smile. A smile she felt slip into a frown. “I was looking for a hero, someone to rescue me from my sad little life. I thought I’d found that in Kurt.”

  “What about your mother?”

  Pain lanced her. “She lives in California. I haven’t seen her since I graduated from high school.”

  He shot her a startled look. “Why not?”

  “Kurt wouldn’t let me. And she didn’t have the money to fly out here anyway. After Kurt died, I tried to get her to come visit, but she wouldn’t.” She shrugged and tried not to let the pain of her mother’s refusal drag her any lower. “And then Stuart started all of his weirdness and I let the subject drop. I still want her to come. Or to go visit her. I want her to meet Simon.”

  He reached over and took her hand and squeezed. She felt the warmth from his touch race up her arm. “We’ll see if we can’t make that happen after we get this little mess cleared up.”

  “Little mess?” She gave a low laugh even as worry for Simon nearly consumed her. “You have the gift for understatement, don’t you?”

  “Maybe, but one way or another, we’re going to make sure we find Simon and get you two safe.”

  “Safe. I’ve forgotten what that feels like,” she murmured and closed her eyes. Please, Lord, let Simon and I know what that feels like. Please. Soon.

  “You didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t bring on the rotten deal you’ve gotten in your life. God didn’t decide to just zap you for some perceived wrong. He doesn’t work that way.”

  “I know he doesn’t. In my mind, I know that. My heart wants to argue sometimes. Especially when I was the one who made the choice to marry the man. It’s like I made that bad choice so I deserve to be punished for it. One bad decision that has led to one bad consequence after another.”

  Adam sighed. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

  “Are you referring to your uncle?”

  He shot her a sidelong glance. “Tori told you?”

  “Yes. I hope you don’t mind.”

  He shrugged. “No, it’s a story that was in all the papers. It’s not a secret by any means. I wasn’t keeping the details from you, I just haven’t had the time to explain.”

  “I know.”

  “My uncle was a very high-ranking judge. He had his hand in a lot of pies. He found out that David and Summer had been compromised in the WITSEC program. But they were still under marshal protection. He convinced me that I would be helping him by getting on the protection detail.”

  “Help him how?”

  “He needed a crucial piece of information from a laptop. He said he had a key witness who wouldn’t turn over the evidence, but he was worried about how admissible it would be anyway. He asked me to get the information. David had the laptop with the information and David wasn’t talking. I planned to see what information he needed and find a way to get it to him without any kind of ethics breach.” He drew in a deep breath. “But I saw pictures on the laptop that proved my uncle was being paid off by Alessandro Raimondi, an organized crime boss.”

  “Oh. Wow. That’s … crazy.”

  “Yeah. When I realized what I was looking at, everything became crystal clear. I knew what I had to do. But—I hesitated. For just a brief few hours, I kept my mouth shut. When we were on the way to nab Raimondi, I called my uncle and told him I’d discovered what was going on and the deal was off. He put a hit ou
t on me and—” He shrugged, but she could see the pain on his face. He tossed her a twisted smile. “Thankfully, it failed.”

  “I’m so sorry, Adam. You’ve had a rough time yourself, haven’t you?”

  “Yes. Betrayal leaves a bitter taste in your mouth no matter what form it takes.” He flexed his fingers on the wheel.

  “Betrayal is betrayal,” she muttered. “And you quit the marshals.”

  “I didn’t feel like I was worthy to work for them anymore.”

  “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I didn’t immediately act on information I had. I did something wrong.”

  “Would they have fired you?”

  He pursed his lips. “No. I had a moment of poor judgment. I would have probably received a reprimand, if that.” The conflict raging inside him was evident as he raked a hand through his hair. “I didn’t purposely set out to do anything wrong. I thought I was doing a favor for a man who held justice to the highest degree. I thought I was helping put away a bad guy. My actions weren’t listed in the rule book, but my intentions were pure. It just didn’t work out that way and so I quit. I needed time to recover. To forgive myself and work through the angst and consequences of my uncle’s actions.”

  “And have you?”

  He shot her another glance. “Worked through the angst?” He shrugged. “Most of it.”

  “Do you want to go back to the marshals?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve found my calling. I’m doing what I’m meant to do.”

  “When did you come to that conclusion?”

  He reached over and took her hand again. Squeezed her fingers and let his gaze linger a bit before turning back to the road. “When you walked into my office.”

  Her breath caught and she gazed at him. A ligth blush crept into his face, matching the warmth she felt rising within her. He cleared his throat and put his hand back on the wheel as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. Tabitha parked to their left, Isaac to the right.

  Adam looked at his phone. “Nothing on Isaac’s phone. Simon still has it off. Mitchell hasn’t shown up yet. And your friend Jenny texted to say she hasn’t heard anything from Simon.” He slid the device into his pocket. “Let’s go see if Mr. Blanchard is awake yet.” He studied her. “I don’t suppose you would allow Tabitha to take you somewhere safe? I’m not sure going into the hospital is the wisest move.”

  She opened her car door and stepped into the cold. Snowflakes greeted her and she raised a hand to swipe them away from her cheeks.

  A light dusting of white appeared and disappeared as soon as it hit the ground. She jutted her jaw at him. “Probably not, but that’s my son who’s in danger, and if this man knows anything about who might hurt him, I’m going to get it out of him.”

  28

  Simon walked up the front porch steps to his uncle’s front door, took a deep breath, and rapped his knuckles against the wood. His heart thundered in his chest and he thought even he could hear it. His hands shook and he hoped Mitchell thought it was because he was cold.

  In actuality, he was sweating bullets beneath the hoodie and sweatshirt. And the pain in his gut was still there. He pressed his hand against his belly and fought off a wave of nausea. He briefly wondered if food would help, but was shocked to realize he wasn’t hungry. Weird.

  Snowflakes drifted down, and for the first time in his life, he prayed they didn’t stick.

  He felt the weight of the backpack pulling on his shoulders. He’d had to ditch the gun when he got on the bus. How could he have forgotten about security? He’d put it in a safe spot, so hopefully they could get it later. When all of this was over.

  He rubbed his palms down his sweatpants and looked at Mitchell. “What if he’s not home?” he signed. “What’s today anyway?”

  Mitchell looked at his phone. “It’s Friday morning. You think he’s at work?”

  “Of course he is. I should have thought of that first,” he signed and grumbled at the same time.

  “So call him and get him here.”

  “I would think he would know I was here with the way he’s been following us all around the United States.” Simon sat on the porch step and stared at Mitchell and his phone. He jumped to his feet, then doubled over, grasping his belly. He sank back onto the step.

  A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up to find Mitchell staring at him with concern. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He bit his lip and sucked in a deep breath. “Forget that. I just realized that they’re not tracking me, they’re tracking you.”

  “What?”

  “Just like the game. They’re probably tracking your phone. Turn it off.”

  Mitchell did and Simon ran his hands through his short hair that still felt weird to him. “Okay, so he’s not here. Can you take me to his office?”

  Mitchell’s brows rose. “His office? Where is it?”

  “Downtown.”

  “That’s a pretty long way. Dude, are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. How much gas you got?”

  Mitchell shrugged. “Enough to get us downtown and back.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Plus money if I need more. Hop on.”

  “We lost him, but the phone says they went to Stuart’s house,” his source said.

  “Stuart’s? I didn’t think Simon even knew where he lived,” Joe said.

  “Guess he knows how to work a GPS.”

  “Guess so.”

  “So what now?”

  “Head over to Stuart’s and see what’s going on. Stuart’s here at the office, not at home.”

  “Maybe we should watch the office and see if he shows up.”

  “I can take care of that part. You head over to Stuart’s.”

  “On the way.”

  Joe hung up the phone and glanced at his watch. After he’d read Kurt’s letter, he’d made contact with a buyer for the counterfeit plates Kurt had stolen from one of the Bloods’ gang members. Only the Bloods weren’t aware of who stole them, so they wouldn’t be in on the action. Only Joe knew who had them—or at least had access to them. Access to the plates and everything else Kurt had left behind. A new will that had been notarized and signed by three different lawyers. Bank account numbers in the Cayman Islands, a Swiss account. More money than Joe had ever seen in his life.

  All he had to do to get it was to kill Dani Harding.

  Adam kept an arm around Dani’s shoulders and decided he liked the way she felt snuggled up against him. He looked over to catch Tabitha’s eye. And raised brows. Adam refused to acknowledge the flush he felt climbing up his neck.

  He cleared his throat and led the way to the room. Ralph had sent him the room number about thirty minutes ago. In front of the door, they found Ralph standing guard. “You?”

  Ralph shrugged. “I volunteered.”

  “Is he awake?”

  “Yes. But he’s on some serious pain meds.” He looked at Dani. “Hello again.”

  Dani stepped forward and gave the man a hug. “Hi.”

  Ralph looked surprised. Then pleased. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Me too. But Simon’s not and I really need to talk to Ryan and find out if he knows anything.”

  Ralph nodded and shared a glance with Adam. “Help yourself.”

  Adam pressed the door open and stepped inside to find the man with his eyes closed and his head bandaged. An IV trailed from the inside of his arm to a bag hanging on the pole next to him.

  “Mr. Blanchard?”

  Nothing.

  Dani moved past him to the bed. “Look at his face.”

  Bright pink patches, blistered and peeling skin. “Looks like he’s been burned by something.”

  “Like boiling water?” She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him. Hard.

  Special Agent Ryan Blanchard blinked, then his eyes fluttered closed again.

  “Wake up,” Dani demanded. She gave him another rough shake.

  “W
ha—?” He sniffed and drew in a breath. Adam watched the man work hard to force his eyes open. “What?”

  “Who hired you? Stuart Harding?”

  “I want a lawyer.” His eyelids fluttered shut.

  Dani gave his shoulder a viciously hard shove and Blanchard gasped. But he looked at her, eyes narrowed in pain and anger. His gaze shuttled to Adam. “Get her away from me.”

  Adam shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t tell her what to do, trust me on that one. You might as well tell us where Simon is.”

  “Simon,” he mumbled. “Kurt’s kid.”

  “And mine,” Dani said, leaning in. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “You tried to kill me at Jenny’s house. I threw hot water on you. That’s why your face is burned.”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Did Stuart hire you to kill us?” Dani demanded.

  The man gave a low, pained laugh. “Wasn’t going to kill you. Stuart talked about all you were going through. I was just there to make sure you were okay.”

  Dani snorted. “Right. Dressed in a black drysuit, a mask, and carrying a gun with a suppressor.”

  “It’s cold outside. The ski mask and drysuit kept me warm. Found the gun on the deck. Wondered who it belonged to.”

  Adam sighed. “Come on, Dani, you’re not getting anything from him.”

  She pursed her lips and he could see the desperation in her. He knew she was wildly worried about Simon. He was too, but Blanchard wasn’t going to talk. Adam grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

  She whirled away from him and charged at the man in the bed. “Where’s my son? Where’s Simon?” When Blanchard simply closed his eyes, Dani grabbed him by the collar of his hospital gown and shook him. “Where is he? Tell me!”

  Blanchard howled with pain, his eyes rolling back in his head as his hands lifted to press his palms against his bandaged head.

  Adam grabbed her arm and pulled her. “Dani, stop.”

  “I can’t until he tells me,” she sobbed.

  She jerked from his grasp and made another lunge for the writhing man. Adam finally snagged her around the waist and hauled her away and out the door.

  “Dani, you’ve got to stop.”

  She leaned against him and he held her while she took deep breaths and stopped fighting him.

 

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