by Rebecca Deel
Ethan hurried Serena inside, then closed and secured the door. She left the basket beside the doorway, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “She kept her promise, Pam. Serena didn’t tell me where we were going or why.”
Pam scrutinized her friend’s face. “It’s true, isn’t it?” She scowled. “You never could lie worth anything.” To Ethan, she said, “I’m surprised you came without demanding an explanation. I haven’t known cops to be so trusting.” Bitterness rang harsh in her voice.
Pam sat on the faded lodge bedspread, her chin tilted at a defiant angle. “You can’t force me to come with you.”
“No, I can’t,” Ethan said. “At least not yet. I’m out of my jurisdiction, but you know it won’t take long to obtain the necessary paperwork.”
Pam glared at him. “Long enough.”
He sat beside Serena on the second double bed. “You can’t run anymore.” His voice remained low, soothing, similar to the tone he used in calming Shadow.
“Watch me.”
“He’s right,” Serena said. “Do you know what they did to your house?”
“What are you talking about?” Fear flared to life in Pam’s eyes. Her gaze darted from Serena to Ethan.
“We went to your home yesterday. Someone had been there before we arrived. They vandalized everything in the house.” Ethan’s steady gaze held hers. “I’m glad you’d already left, Pam.” His revelation added more fuel to her fear, but he wanted to keep her alive. She had to trust him before it was too late.
The blood drained from her face. “Then they already know. I can’t stay here any longer.” She started to get up.
Ethan put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her down with gentle pressure. “No, Pam. No more running.” Panic spread across her face. “If you want to stay alive, you have to trust me.” Ethan waited a few seconds, then asked, “Why is Tony Coronado after you?”
Tears trailed down Pam’s cheeks. “I have information that would send his boss to prison.”
“What kind of information?”
Pam wiped the tears with her hands. “The casino kept double books. I didn’t know when I started working there. I swear.”
“You worked for the Shamrock Casino?”
She nodded. “In accounting.”
Ethan leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “How did you discover discrepancies in their accounting practices?”
“The other accountant was out sick, so I thought I’d be a good employee and keep his work caught up.” Pam pushed curls away from her wet face. “The accounts were the same ones I worked with, but the figures were all wrong. I thought Jeff made a mistake in recording the entries, so I made a copy on a flash drive, and took it home with the invoices to make corrections.”
She looked up at Ethan. “They used double entries. The accounts I worked on were reported to the IRS.”
A puzzled expression crossed Serena’s face. “Why would the Shamrock send someone to kill Miller over that? Wouldn’t they just have to pay a fine or something?”
“The problem isn’t only the double entries, Serena,” Ethan said. “Pam’s life is hanging in the balance because the casino’s involved with the mob.”
“How could they be involved with organized crime?”
Pam sighed. “The casino’s laundering the mob’s drug and prostitution money.”
Guess that explained the mob hiring The Fox to retrieve the information. If he followed his usual MO, the assassin would kill Pam and anyone else who got in his way. Ethan stood, paced to the curtained window and scrutinized the parking lot. Without turning, he said, “So how did the casino realize you knew about the money laundering?”
“I told them.”
“You told them?” Satisfied the parking lot remained unchanged, Ethan swung around to face the woman. “Why?”
“I thought Jeff cooked the books on his own, so I went to the Shamrock’s owner with my findings.”
“What happened?”
“He acted shocked, grateful I brought it to his attention.” Pam folded her arms across her middle. “I can’t believe I fell for it.”
“How did you discover he knew about it all along?” Serena asked.
“He told me to take the rest of the day off. He said he’d tell Jeff I left sick, then take care of the problem himself.” She gave a short laugh. “And to think I felt grateful he tried to keep me out of it.”
She rose and paced. “I was so rattled I left my car keys on my desk. I climbed the back stairs so I wouldn’t have to pass Jeff’s office. When I slipped in to get my keys, I overhead the owner blasting Jeff for not securing his computer with a private password, one I didn’t know.” Pam stopped in front of Ethan. “He told Jeff we’d be lucky if the mob didn’t kill all of us.”
“Who’s the Shamrock owner?” Ethan asked. He could find out himself with a few phone calls, but his gut told him he needed every piece of information fast.
“Frank Stephens.”
Serena groaned. “Oh, no.”
“What is it? Do you know him?” Ethan’s whole body tensed. Did this man have a connection to Serena as well?
Anguish radiated from Serena’s face. “That’s the man I’m doing the dinner party for on Saturday night.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“What are you talking about?” Pam sank onto the bed, her eyes wide. “You never said anything about a dinner party for Mr. Stephens.”
“Uncle Mike asked me to coordinate the dinner as a favor. The Pot o’ Gold is owned by his friend, Frank Stephens.” Serena’s mind reeled. Her uncle must not know his friend fraternized with the mob. Mike Cahill valued integrity and honesty, things not associated with organized crime. “We set it up after you injured your back.”
She stiffened and studied her friend through narrowed eyes. “Did your back really go out, or have I run myself ragged for two weeks because you were hiding?”
Pam shrugged, flushing.
“This puts a whole new spin on Saturday’s dinner,” Ethan said.
“It’s a good thing you’re going with me.” Serena rose, rifled through the picnic basket, and pulled out three bottles of water. She handed a water bottle each to Pam and Ethan. “Saturday could be more interesting than we thought.”
Pam looked from Ethan to Serena. “What’s the deal? Is something going on between you two?”
“I hope so,” Serena said. Her cheeks flushed. No question she felt that way, but she didn’t mean to say the words out loud. She ducked her head, her blonde mane shielding her expression from Ethan.
He laughed. “We’re working on it.”
Excitement zinged through her veins. Maybe something good would come out of this after all. She wrinkled her nose. If they survived.
#
“How did your grandfather get involved?” Ethan set his water bottle on the floor.
“After I overheard the owner with Jeff, I emptied my bank account and took off.” Pam stared down at her feet. “Before she died, Mom told me her father had retired in Flagstaff, Arizona, and if I had nowhere else to turn, she thought Grandpa Miller would help.”
“Why didn’t you ever mention him?” Serena asked. “We thought you had no other family.”
Sadness blanketed Pam’s face. “Grandpa Miller disowned Mom when she married my father. He told her Dad was no good, that she would regret marrying him.”
Ethan grimaced. Sounded like his own family saga, both stories wrapped in tragedy.
“Mom still loved Grandpa, and hoped one day he’d ask to see her. She kept track of him through his friends.”
“You found him in Arizona?”
Pam smiled. “You can imagine his surprise when I landed on his doorstep. I told him the whole story. He gave me money and asked an old Marine Corp buddy to drop me off in Otter Creek on his way to Norfolk.”
“Why did you come to Otter Creek?”
“All my friends in Las Vegas were tied to my job and I didn’t want to endanger them.” Her eyes begged for understand
ing. “As a kid, I thought Otter Creek was the smallest place in Tennessee. I needed a place to hide, at least until I could figure out what to do. I thought I’d be safe for a while.”
A wave of anger washed over Ethan. So she’d come to Otter Creek, to Serena, knowing a dangerous man trailed her? How long had Coronado been in the area? How many times had Serena been in the crosshairs of the contract killer? “Why didn’t you go to the Las Vegas police? They would have put you in protective custody.”
“I didn’t know who I could trust. I heard the cops were in the mob’s hip pocket.”
“Most aren’t. So what happened after you dropped into town?”
Pam’s hands clenched. “I don’t know how he did it, but Coronado tracked me to Grandpa Miller’s. He tried scaring Grandpa into revealing where I went.”
Serena smiled. “I’d like to have seen Mr. Miller’s response to that. I’ll bet Coronado got a shock.”
“Grandpa said he met bullies like that in the war. He gave Coronado a few bruises to remind him of their encounter.”
Ethan smiled. “Your grandfather had a lot of grit, Pam. How did he end up in Otter Creek?”
“He wanted to protect me, so Grandpa told his friends he was going to Washington, D.C. to see the World War II monument. Outside Knoxville, somebody ran him off the road.” Her eyes filled. “Grandpa thought a drunk driver hit him, but I know now it wasn’t an accident. I wanted him to come to Otter Creek so I could care for him. When Pastor Lang met Grandpa at the hospital, he helped arrange everything for him to come here and recuperate.”
Ethan remained silent a moment, processing the information. “Why did they kill Miller? Did he have the flash drive?”
“He never had the information.” New tears coursed down her cheeks. “When Grandpa realized Coronado tracked me to Otter Creek, he made me send him a blank flash drive in the mail.”
“I delivered a blank drive?” Serena stared at Pam. “Why would he do that?”
The band around Ethan’s heart tightened. He had a chance to save Miller and he had failed. Why didn’t he push Miller harder? Anger flared. Why couldn’t the old man trust him? “Miller made himself a target to draw the mob away from Pam.”
He grabbed a handful of tissues and passed them to the sobbing woman. After a few minutes, Ethan asked, “Where is the flash drive now?”
Pam blotted her face with a tissue. “Serena has it.”
#
Serena’s heart leaped. “What?” She stared at her friend, dumbfounded.
“You’ve been carrying it around for weeks.” Pam refused to meet her gaze.
Serena could almost feel Ethan’s gaze searching her face and analyzing her body language. He must think she’d kept something from him, despite her promise. And unknown to her, she had.
She frowned. Carrying it around for weeks? Serena smacked her palm against her forehead. “The purse.” Ethan’s puzzled gaze met hers. “Pam gave me a new purse a few weeks ago.”
Serena retrieved the picnic basket. She reached inside and pulled out a yellow purse with a VW Beetle stitched on each side. She dumped the purse’s contents on the bed beside Ethan. Cell phone, keys, address book, calendar, hand lotion, strawberry-scented Chapstick, two blue ink pens. No flash drive.
“Where is it?” Serena tossed Pam the purse.
“Do you have a pocket knife?” When Ethan handed Pam a Swiss army knife, she slit the inside hard bottom of Serena’s purse. She slid her fingers into the opening and, withdrawing a black flash drive, handed the knife and drive to Ethan.
Serena forced herself to close her mouth. She toted this thing around for weeks? She hoped one of her toddlers hadn’t come to Sunday school with a magnet.
She steeled herself against the disappointment she’d find on Ethan’s face and raised her head. She swallowed hard. Not disappointment. Fury. With clenched jaw and flushed face, Ethan moved to the window and stared into the darkness. He said nothing, but waves of anger almost radiated from him.
Acid brewed in her stomach as she watched his internal battle. She had to make this right. Would he believe her? “Pam,” Serena said, her gaze fixed on Ethan, “why don’t you go freshen up?”
Pam glanced at Ethan’s stiff back. She licked her lips, walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
Serena stood beside Ethan and waited until some of the tension leached from his muscles. “I’m sorry, Ethan.” She touched his arm with icy fingers. “I didn’t know about the flash drive.”
“Don’t.”
Blood drained from her face. Breath froze in her lungs. Don’t what? Don’t apologize? Don’t touch him? Her hand dropped to her side.
He whirled to face her, eyes resembling granite. “Don’t apologize. I’m not angry at you. I believe you told me the truth as you knew it.”
Her lungs expanded. Despite the deceptive appearance, he believed her. Relief coursed through her veins. The strength of the emotion shocked her and left her wondering. How deep did her feelings for Ethan Blackhawk go?
He brushed Serena’s hair away from her face and rested his hand on the back of her neck. “She put your life at risk. Without a second thought, she threw you to the wolves to save herself.”
“So what happens now?” Ethan’s thumb caressed a sensitive spot under her ear, sending a shiver racing over her body.
“We have to get that information to the Feds and find a safe place to stash your friend.” After a final gentle stroke, Ethan pulled out his cell phone, and walked to the door. “I’ll be outside for a couple of minutes.”
The soft snick of the door showcased the control Ethan exerted over his turbulent emotions. She missed the warmth of his touch. The longer she spent time with him, the more she realized there was something indefinable about him. Ethan wasn’t just a small town cop. When he left a room, he took the light with him. She sighed. No question any more. She had it bad.
The bathroom door opened. Serena turned and faced her friend. Pam scanned the empty room. “Where’s Chief Blackhawk?”
Before Serena answered, Ethan re-entered the room, his face expressionless. He leaned against the door. Tension swelled in the silence.
Pam dropped onto a corner of the bed, her breathing shallow, as if awaiting a judge’s ruling.
“There’s only one way out of this mess.” Ethan’s soft tone carried a hint of underlying steel. “Turn the information over to the Feds.”
Pam winced. “But getting an indictment and going to trial could take months.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Ethan said. “The mob hired a hit man. They took a contract out on you. If you keep running, they’ll find you. You’ll make a mistake, trust the wrong person, or run out of money. This guy is good, Pam. He doesn’t miss.”
“What do you want me to do?” Pam whispered.
“I’ll take your statement. After I hide you in a secure location, I’ll take the flash drive to the Feds. We’ll let them jump through the legal hoops.” His eyes glittered. “In the meantime, I’ll be hunting Coronado and his partner.”
“And if they find me before the trial?”
“At least we’ll have the advantage. They’ll fight on our terms, our territory. Your hiding place will be defensible.”
Ethan spent the next hour taking Pam’s statement. He grilled her on small details, asking names, clarifying dates, tracing Pam’s movements since she’d arrived in Otter Creek. Finally satisfied with the information, Ethan moved to the window and peered out. He turned to Pam. “It’s time.”
#
Three men stood beside a nondescript Ford Taurus in the pre-dawn darkness. Their eyes never stopped moving. They dressed like backwoodsmen in town for a day except they carried guns. Big guns.
“I’ve never seen guns like that.” Serena’s gaze shifted from one weapon to another. She wondered if Josh carried something like them on missions. “What kind are they?”
“Long-barreled .45 automatics and an Uzi.”
“Who are those men?”
She shuddered at the cold efficiency surrounding the tall strangers. Crouched in the back seat of the gray Taurus, Pam’s face seemed translucent. Would she see her friend alive again or was this the end game? Only three men stood between Pam and death, men she didn’t know with obvious loyalty to Ethan.
“The big one, Dawkins, is point man,” Ethan said. “Kelly rides shotgun. Rios drives. Don’t worry about Pam; she’ll be safe.”
“Where are they taking her?”
“You don’t need to know,” Ethan said without smiling.
Rios glanced toward Blackhawk, then turned the car north. Like a gray mist, the Taurus slipped down the street and disappeared. Serena noticed the license plate so smeared with mud she couldn’t tell what state the tags were from.
She should be angry with Pam for dragging her into this, but pitied the innocent bystander challenging the mob. She wished she could help her.
Pam needed time. Time for the justice system to do its job, time for Ethan to find the men chasing her. Serena thought about the infamous black flash drive. Maybe she could do something. She didn’t need to ask Ethan’s opinion. A smile tugged at her lips. She already knew he wouldn’t like it.
#
“I’m not using you as bait!” Ethan snapped. Was she out of her mind? Just the suggestion guaranteed nightmares the next time he slept, sometime next week the way his schedule looked. He scowled at the clock in his dashboard which read 1:58. “You’re a civilian, Serena. It’s too dangerous.”
“Come on, Ethan. Hear me out. The Feds need time to process the paperwork, file charges, and whatever else they have to do to wrap up the mob. You need time to catch Coronado and his cohort. We’re just throwing a red herring on the trail.”
“This isn’t one of Aunt Ruth’s novels, Serena. These guys carry guns with real bullets. You already know they’re not afraid to use them. You could end up dead.” His grip tightened on the truck’s steering wheel. Let her become more involved in this case? No way. “I can’t take that chance.” The last time he’d taken the risk, an innocent woman paid with her life.