“You don’t have enough evidence, do you? That’s why you’re giving up on trying to convince me. You couldn’t get a warrant even if you wanted one because you don’t have enough proof.”
Steven sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right. I need you to solve this case for me.”
“But I told you I won’t investigate.”
He balled his fists. “And I don’t want you to because you may not be safe. But without you, my case dies.”
She groaned. “I’m sorry.”
“Why won’t you help me? If illegal operations threaten your business, don’t you want a resolution?”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe that’s going on in my company.”
He growled. “Whether you believe it or not isn’t the issue. If it’s happening, it needs to be brought to the surface. Your business will never flourish with illegal activity. You can turn your back to it, but that doesn’t make it go away.”
She halted and pointed her finger at him, heat coursed through her despite the dropping temperature. “It’s easy for you to connect the dots between the accident Friday night and Iris taking that money and your suspected drug ring because you’re not emotionally attached to the situation.”
She pressed her finger to her chest. “But it’s not easy for me. Iris has been my friend for years, and this recent betrayal means she’s hurting and hasn’t known how to ask for help. The deceit doesn’t mean she’s malicious or a criminal.”
He tucked his chin to his chest. “I am emotionally attached to this because I’ve been working this case for months.”
Marina grinned despite the storm brewing inside her. “But you’re not attached like I am. These thieves, these suspected drug dealers aren’t your friends. They aren’t people who’ve supported you through life’s trials.”
“Agreed. But they are the ones who caused my brother’s death.” Pain sliced across his face.
What? “Steven? I had no idea.” She placed her hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry.”
“You couldn’t have known.” He motioned for her to lead the way, and they started down the trail again. “Not only did they end my brother’s life and I haven’t been able to prove it, but they destroy my town daily, and that’s personal to me.”
“I’m sorry you’re suffering. I didn’t realize.” Marina’s heart crumbled to the ground. “You know, I’m angry and resentful. I’ve managed my company well. I’ve always tried to be a good friend to Iris. I shouldn’t be caught in the middle of her financial problems. And you shouldn’t be suffering because of these people.”
“Marina, do you know the story of the prodigal son in the Bible?”
“Of course. It hasn’t been that long since I’ve been to church.” She smirked.
Steven arched an eyebrow and then continued as they walked. “Everybody always focuses on the younger brother and his rebelliousness, but the story is also about the older brother.”
She crinkled her nose. “How so?”
“He may have stayed to work the family farm instead of running off like his brother, but he had a hard heart. He wouldn’t forgive his brother for leaving and then coming back, for squandering his inheritance, or for taking from what would’ve been his if he’d never returned.”
“I’ve never thought of it that way.”
“Most people don’t. He wasn’t that concerned with the father’s love. He wanted his portion and didn’t intend to share it. He was as rebellious as the younger brother.”
Marina pushed aside a tree branch and ducked then walked on. “What are you saying?”
“You said you’ve done everything right, and you don’t think you deserve what’s happened to you, but that’s not how life works. Often, we must deal with the consequences of someone else’s sins.”
Why was life so messy? “Then what am I supposed to do, Steven?”
“Keep your heart soft. Have faith that everything’s going to work out the way it should. Be willing to forgive. That doesn’t mean you won’t have hard times. God never stops guarding you, though.”
“Steven—” Something whizzed past Marina’s head before she could finish her thought, and he threw her to the ground. “What was that?” she screamed.
“Somebody shot at us.” He covered her head with his left hand and grabbed his cell phone from his pocket while scrutinizing their surroundings. He dialed and waited. “John, somebody shot at us.”
He waited again. “No, we’re fine, but I need everybody on it now. Get the women and the kids to safety and start combing these woods for the shooter.”
He paused and listened. “No, they fired bullets not paintball pellets this time. We’re on the Blue trail. We’ll work our way back to the car. You guys call for backup and catch this gunman!”
Steven disconnected the call. “Okay, get into a crawling position. Stay as low as you can. We’ll inch our way back to the pavilion.”
She couldn’t move. “This is ridiculous! I can’t do this. They’re going to kill us.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it. Come on!”
***
Steven kept his arm around Marina, guiding her off the trail and into the sparse woods. By the way she leaned into him, she relied on him to save her life. All differences aside, they were all each other had right now.
They slid down an embankment and squatted behind a fallen oak. Georgia’s late fall meant the bushes and shorter trees like the red maples and sweetgum trees still had some foliage and provided adequate coverage for them.
Steven’s heart raced, and his headache worsened, but at least for now they were camouflaged and could rest for a minute. He turned his attention from scanning the woods to the woman he’d vowed to protect. “Are you okay?”
Marina nodded, her breath too shallow to speak. Her eyes glistened, but no tears slid down this resilient woman’s face.
“You’re not hurt?”
She drew in a few heavy breaths and exhaled. “Not any more than I already was.” Squeezing her left side, she brushed dirt from the knees of her jogging pants. “How are we going to get out of here?”
Steven surveyed the woods again then leaned toward Marina. “This trail is a giant loop. If they’re watching us, they’ll expect us to follow the trail back to the car. But that’s three miles total, and I don’t think you can do it with your injuries.”
She reached down and massaged her ankle. “No, I don’t think I can. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Besides, the rest of the trail isn’t as wooded and won’t provide us as much coverage, although this barely covers us now.”
“What are we going to do? I refuse to die out here, Steven.” Marina’s eyes glimmered in the streams of afternoon daylight bleeding through the openings in vegetation and revealed the spark he knew was in her. She was a fighter.
“We’ll cut through the woods right here,” he pointed to the south,” and we’ll find a hiding spot at the art center. Can you make it that far?”
“If it means having a chance to survive this, then I can make it.”
The possibility of spooking the birds and squirrels increased their potential for danger. If any of them abandoned their hideouts, the gunman could be alerted to their location. The last thing Steven desired was giving this guy any help in locating them.
“Okay, stay low. Stick right by my side.” He grabbed her hand and inched forward, never taking his gaze off the surrounding woods. “We’ve got to keep as quiet as possible.”
Step by step they hovered close to the ground and made their way through the trees and bushes, stumbled on protruding tree roots, tripped on rocks, and avoided as many thorn bushes and prickly vines as they could. They talked through hand signals, and Marina followed every instruction he gave her.
They came to the edge of the woods where the art center’s parking lot began. Steven held his arm out across Marina’s shoulders and motioned for her to squat. “Get down on your stomach and rest for a minute,”
he whispered. “We need to stay as low to the ground as possible until I figure out if we can make it to the outside stairwell which leads to the basement.”
Marina didn’t protest. She eased all the way to the ground and stretched out on her stomach. “Is someone watching us still?”
He lowered to the ground and positioned his body alongside hers. Her trembling made punching the guy who pursued them in the face too strong a desire. “I don’t know. I hope by now John and the others have caught the shooter. I’ll call him now.”
Marina nodded.
Steven pulled his phone from his pocket, pressed the call button on John’s number, and waited.
Marina took in a few deep breaths and buried her face in her hands.
“John,” Steven whispered, “Did you catch the shooter?”
“Shooters. And no. I’m almost positive one was Kemar. Not sure who the other one was.”
Steven’s head throbbed, and his mouth went dry. Kemar? What did this guy have against Marina—or against him? “What do you mean you’re not sure?”
“There’s a pursuit happening right now down Providence Street. They fled in a white van.”
The white van was once again at the core of the threat. When would this nightmare end? “We’re okay to come back?”
“Let me come get you. Where are you?”
“We’re at the edge of the woods at the art center’s back parking lot.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes. Stay covered in case there are more of them.”
“Will do. Thanks, partner.” Steven ended the call with John and pressed his head against Marina’s head. “John’s coming to get us.”
“It’s over?” She raised her head and stared into his eyes with a look of desperation, fear, and hope.
Her stiff muscles relax against him. Even with the gut-wrenching pain revealed on her face, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And he was in more trouble than he was prepared for. “It’s not over until we catch whoever is trying to silence you, but we’re getting close.”
She rolled over onto her left side, and fear shadowed her face. “They didn’t catch them?”
He eased into a squat and left the cool, damp earth behind him. “Not yet. But they’re in pursuit of the white van.”
Marina sat up and brushed her hands free of the soil and leaf fragments clinging to her skin. “I’ll be glad when that van is out of my life. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel comfortable again whenever I see one. After all of this, I may indeed need to go for counseling.”
Steven smiled and brushed the dirt off the knees of his pants. “You and me both, Ms. Acres.”
The roar of an engine drew their attention, and Steven let out a satisfied moan when John’s black SUV pulled up at the edge of the parking lot. Two honks of the horn let him know they could flee the safety of their mini-refuge in the woods.
“Ready?” He held out his hand to Marina.
She accepted it and squeezed like she didn’t plan to let go anytime soon. “I think so.”
He stood to a crouch and motioned for Marina to remain low as well. They inched their way to the edge of the wooded area and then across an unsheltered grassy area. About thirty feet to go, and they’d be safe in John’s car. Once Marina was secure with Sharon … no, they couldn’t endanger Sharon and the baby. Besides, Sharon couldn’t protect her. Marina needed female officers guarding her, then he and John could join the hunt for the shooter.
They reached the car, and Steven yanked open the backdoor for Marina. She vaulted in and slid to the driver’s side. Instead of hopping into the backseat with her, he slammed her door and opened the front door. He motioned for her to stretch out on the seat, so she could remain hidden until they got her to safety.
Steven jumped into the front seat, but before he could close the door, a shot rang out and fire raced through his upper arm. While doubling over, he let out a groan which ricocheted inside the car. “I’ve been hit! Get us out of here.”
“Close the door!” John yelled as he squealed out of the art center parking lot.
Marina screamed and leaned forward. “Steven, where are you hit?” She grabbed his head and searched for signs of injury.
“In the arm. I’ll be okay. Get down in the floorboard, Marina. We don’t need you shot too.”
“I shouldn’t have honked the horn. I led them straight to you.”
“It’s not your fault, John.” Steven leaned his head against the headrest as John pulled out onto Magnolia and used the radio handset to call in the incident. Marina slid into the floorboard, and Steven slipped from consciousness.
***
Marina’s phone buzzed on the nightstand next to her bed in Officer Ginger Steele’s apartment in Lewistown, about twenty minutes from her own place, and produced a jolt of hope in her heart. Maybe Steven had texted.
John had refused to let her stay at the hospital while Steven received treatment and had called Ginger, the well-toned policewoman, to take her to safety. Instead of resting, she’d paced all night waiting to find out the severity of his gunshot wound.
She sat on the bed and checked the screen. Iris, not Steven, had sent her a text. Once again, she had impeccable timing. If Iris were in town, the communication would be much easier. They’d be face-to-face. They’d yell and sulk and walk away angry and hurt, and then they’d come back together and solve the problem.
Except this was not about choosing which customer’s order was delivered first or which discount to give someone. This was the most serious issue they’d ever faced, and they might not come out of it still friends or, more certainly, business partners.
She couldn’t ignore Iris’s text. Avoiding her wouldn’t make matters any better. She opened the messaging app.
Hey girl, checking in to see how you’re doing.
How was she doing? She’d hit a guy with her car, been run down, betrayed by her best friend and bullied from her home, shot at with real bullets and paintball pellets, subjected to the scrutiny of Steven’s friends, and separated from the one person she trusted until he could protect her again. How was she supposed to be doing?
She responded: I’ve felt better.
While she waited for a response, she dressed in jeans and a T-shirt then freshened up in the attached bathroom. Her sleep deprivation had taken its toll and left her eyes dull and surrounded by dark circles.
Although she’d taken a hot shower and snuggled into the plush bedding on Ginger’s guestroom bed, sleep had dodged her like an estranged friend who came for occasional visits but left before putting down roots. Now Iris barged into her haven, like the sun that glared in through the windows, and stole all chances of a friendship with rest.
She sighed and ambled to the bedroom as her phone buzzed again.
Are you still mad at me?
Marina’s neck stiffened, and she contemplated not answering. Would letting Iris hang in suspense for a while be so bad? She hated her conscience sometimes. Yes, it would.
She answered: Not so much mad as disappointed.
Did you tell the detective?
So this was why Iris sent the text. She didn’t care about Marina’s condition. Keeping her secret undivulged took priority. No, I haven’t had the time.
Are you going to tell him?
Marina gritted her teeth. If I have to, I will. But I hope you figure things out so I won’t have to.
Iris fired another text at her. I’m trying. Have you been back to the office?
Why did she care? There must be something else there that Iris wanted kept hidden. No.
Can you go over there and check the delivery log for proof that Jackson Florist received their order?
Why?
They called and said the order didn’t arrive on Saturday, and they want a refund.
Marina rubbed her neck and took a while to respond. How could she get over to the office without Steven? Ginger might be willing to escort her, but she doubted it. She didn’t seem too interested in being her
personal bodyguard. Maybe she could take her to rent a car. She shouldn’t borrow Allison’s car again. Sure. I’ll get over there as soon as I can. I’m still without a car.
She tossed her phone onto the bed without waiting for Iris’s response.
Ginger knocked on the bedroom door. “Marina, are you hungry?”
She opened the door and smiled when the freckle-faced officer, who stood several inches taller than her with muscles bulging from beneath her uniform, handed her a mug of coffee. She took the mug from her and sipped the steaming jumpstart to her day. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. It’s decaf.” Ginger piloted the way to the kitchen.
So much for the pick-me-up.
Ginger pointed to the skillet on the stove. “I made scrambled cheese eggs with spinach, and there’s gluten-free toast with olive oil spread on the pan in the oven. There’s a bowl of fruit on the counter.”
No bagel and cream cheese or bacon? She shouldn’t be surprised after the Vegan pizza they’d picked up before coming home last night. A twinge of guilt raced through her heart for being ungrateful. “Again, thank you. And thanks for letting me stay here last night. I hope you weren’t inconvenienced.”
“Not at all. You’d be surprised how long it’s been since I’ve had a girl’s movie night.”
Marina smirked and sipped her coffee to hide her grin. She wasn’t one bit surprised she hadn’t had an evening with girlfriends in a while. Warmth and hospitality weren’t the dominant vibes she received from her.
“I usually leave at 9:00 a.m. for my shift. Can you be ready by then?”
“Sure. I’ve already packed up my things.”
Ginger nodded and a wisp of her strawberry-blonde hair fell from the tight bun she wore at the nape of her neck. “I spoke with Detective Roper a few minutes ago, and he said the hospital released Detective Pennington.”
Marina’s heart sprang to life as she loaded the scrambled eggs onto her plate. “Will he be okay?”
Ginger leaned against the door facing. “Yeah. The shot went straight through his arm.”
Marina slid a potholder onto her right hand and reached into the oven for the pan of toast. “That’s good.” She tried to act casual and keep Ginger from suspecting her feelings as she took a stool at the bar.
Grafted into Deceit (Intertwined Book 3) Page 18