Eleven
The couple of pain pills she’d taken from her grandfather’s medicine cabinet had started to work by the time they pulled up at the scene of the accident.
On the highway, headed back toward town, a truck had turned over. Two other vehicles—a car and a delivery van—had collided with it. Or each other. It was hard to tell what had happened.
Dean pulled up the parking brake. “Stay here.”
He pushed out the door and slammed it behind him before grabbing a duffel from the trunk and sprinting to the overturned truck. All while Ellie sat there.
A police car was parked on the far side as though it had come from town. Blue and red lights flashed. Where was the ambulance? Surely someone had been hurt. She couldn’t believe there were no injuries. Shattered headlights and debris lay across the asphalt.
She was a college professor. She might be trained in self-defense, but she’d never taken first aid classes. She didn’t know what to do.
Ellie gripped the backpack of her grandfather’s things between her shins. Inside was the journal she’d been reading. The one where he’d written frequently of his regrets. The dishonor he had buried. She’d skimmed through weeks and weeks of sporadic entries. He hadn’t penned his thoughts often, but when he did, it was about “what they’d done” and how he’d been complicit in it. Much to his shame.
Her grandfather had been a proud man, dedicated in his role as a police officer. When she’d been hurt in high school and there was nothing he could do about it, he’d been torn up. She’d buried her feelings. He’d written down his in the journal.
Most of the entries she’d read were from before she’d even been born, though. So what she was supposed to discover hadn’t had anything to do with what had happened to her.
It was a truth buried decades before that.
Possibly even as far back as his time serving in Vietnam.
Could the secret have to do with war crimes? She’d done plenty of research and had plenty more books to read in order to prepare to write her own. What she’d found wasn’t pleasant. War never was. It wasn’t heroic, or noble. It was ugly and often horrific—in a way that destroyed people. War changed everyone—those who were there, and those who stayed home. The home front was going to be the focus of her book. How culture shifted for women while so many men were away.
But it would seem that, given her grandfather’s will, she might be looking more at the war itself to find out what he had done.
Not a pleasant prospect. But if he wanted the truth to come out, she would find it. After all, he’d even said in his will that he trusted her to do the right thing with the information. The story he wanted to tell her. His written words about the matter—however vague—dripped with brokenness.
Ellie glanced around, looking for the ambulance that was surely on its way. Unless it was tied up somewhere else and unable to get here, and that was why they’d called Dean. He moved around, fast but not frantic. Looking capable as he helped people out of vehicles and spoke with the officers there. As long as she stayed in the car as he’d told her to, she was safe. She might be able to help. But she also could be putting herself in the line of fire again. Or distracting him from what he needed to do, forcing him to watch out for her as well. That could endanger someone else needing care if only she’d have stayed in the car.
So Ellie stayed put.
She kept glancing around, half looking for a guy with a rifle trying to kill her. Or that champagne-colored car hurtling toward her. Ellie shivered. Her gaze snagged on a man standing over to her right. Dark jeans and a blue hoodie, the hood pulled up so his face was shadowed. But she was pretty sure he was staring at her.
Just the line of his body language intimidated her into another shiver. Who was this guy? As she watched, he lifted one hand, pointing his pinkie toward his mouth while his thumb angled to his ear. A phone? What did…
Hers rang. Tucked in her back pocket, it began to vibrate. Ellie just stared at him.
He lowered his hand slightly, then moved it back to his face.
Ellie shifted enough to slide the phone from the back pocket of her jeans. Cold washed over her. She looked at Dean, a cry for help. But he was helping someone else. She couldn’t bother him when the ambulance still hadn’t arrived, and there were hurt people here.
Ellie looked back at the man, still standing there with his hand up. Indicating she should answer her phone.
The ringing stopped. She’d taken too long.
On the screen, another incoming call from the same number flashed as her phone vibrated in her hand. Ellie’s thumb shook as she swiped it across the screen, then put the call on speaker. “Y-yes?”
The voice that replied was distorted. “You’ve been looking into the past.”
The voice hadn’t been altered in the same way her app changed a voice. This was different, like a mask. Or a computer program.
She shook her head. That didn’t matter right now. She had to focus on what was going on here and what to say to this guy.
“Stop looking.” The voice was hard, inviting no argument. “The past will stay where it’s buried. Quit digging it up.”
Hoodie guy had lowered his arm, both hands now by his sides. He looked ready to attack. Poised. But he wasn’t on the phone. His mouth was closed, and it didn’t move when the caller spoke again.
“If you don’t, you and those you care about will suffer.”
Ellie fought back that drowning feeling. The one that threatened to rise up into her throat and choke her until she couldn’t breathe. Until she died from being swallowed by fear.
The man in the hoodie turned then, and she watched him walk casually down the highway. He hopped a cement barricade and disappeared around the corner of a warehouse building.
Someone passed the window of her car, right by where she was sitting.
Ellie squealed. The phone dropped between the backpack and the seat. She realized it was just an EMT, finally here.
She fought to steady her breathing, one hand to her chest. You’re smarter than this fear. Don’t let him get to you. If she panicked, it would all be over. She might as well give up and quit. Instead, she needed to act as smart as she was. Think this through. Use all those methods she’d learned to control her emotional reaction to fear. Put the physical reactions aside, and focus on the here and now.
What was real.
What was true.
Those were the things she was supposed to focus on. Like the fact people were hurt. She might be in danger, but others were putting their own safety on the line to save people. Ellie had good reason to be here in the car. However, looking at Dean up ahead helping those who needed it made her want to do the same.
To fight for someone else, even when she couldn’t fight for herself. Maybe because she couldn’t.
She lifted the phone from the floor by her feet and saw it was still connected. “You don’t scare me. My grandfather had something he wanted me to know, and I’m going to figure out what it is. If that’s a threat to you for whatever reason, that’s your problem. Not mine.”
Whoever this was, they knew about the secret. If the story got out, they would have a problem. That had to be why they were prepared to scare her. But were they prepared to do worse than that? Ellie couldn’t help but think she was gambling with her life, or at least until she found out for sure whether or not they were capable of taking a life.
A low chuckle came through the phone. So distorted it almost sounded comical, and she had to hold back laughter of her own. That wasn’t going to go down well.
Whoever it was on the other end of the line said, “You’ll risk your life for something, and you don’t even know what it is? I’ll tell you.”
Ellie braced, waiting for what he would tell her. She assumed it was a man, anyway, given the coordination and planning that had gone into it. A man determined to stay anonymous. Women didn’t usually react in the same way men did. Mostly, she guessed a female would hit hard and fast i
n the heat of anger. Ellie would have known there was a problem and that she should leave it alone. Men always thought they could threaten a woman into doing what they wanted.
Not Ellie. She wouldn’t give in to fear this time.
“It’s destruction. You’ll ruin good people’s lives if the truth gets out. So I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.”
“It won’t be so easy,” she told him. After all, her grandfather had given her this task for a reason. This man thought he could try and hit her with a car, and he thought he could shoot at her. Well, neither time had she known she was in danger. He hadn’t hurt her. So what would happen now that she had world-class, former-Navy-SEAL protection on her side, and she knew to be careful?
She would be watching out for danger. Ready for the next attack.
Ellie didn’t have more to say, so she hung up the phone. Her hand still shook, but she wasn’t going to let it stop her.
She’d overcome a lot in her life. No way would she give up now because of this.
Ellie sent her sister a long text and a bunch of screenshots of her call history. Jess would insist on investigating. That was fine if they could figure out who had threatened her. Who had tried to kill her.
Then she pulled the backpack up and onto one shoulder and got out. She kept her head down as she moved, watching for a shooter hiding on a roof. Or behind another vehicle. There was help everywhere, so if he did take a shot at her and she did get hurt, then she would have aid quickly.
Fear can’t stop me.
It wasn’t gone, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t able to work through it. Acknowledge it and set it aside.
The way she’d done with every resurgence of her panic over the years since her life had irrevocably changed.
“Everything okay?”
She nodded to Dean, sliding the backpack on both arms so she’d have her hands free. “How can I help?”
His eyebrows lifted. “You shouldn’t be out here. I asked you to wait in the car because it’s not safe.”
She explained about the phone call, which he didn’t like. Ellie wanted to see a different emotion on his face. Not just obligation or disappointment. She wanted the warmth she’d seen from him. Some indication he was as affected by her as she was by him.
But, then again, maybe he wasn’t attracted to her. Could be he was only doing this because he helped people and that was the man he was.
“You should go and get back in—”
“I’m not going to hide.” She lifted her chin, determined to make him see she was strong. “I let Jess know about the call, and now I’m going to be smart. But I’m not backing down.”
The gloves on his hands were stained with blood. He nodded, looking like he was impressed with her. “Okay, let’s get to work.”
Twelve
Dean shoved the ambulance door shut and rapped his palm twice on the back door. As it pulled away, he turned to Ellie. “Okay, now spill.”
She’d been on edge since she got out of the car. Where he’d told her to stay put so she would be safe. Now she was sticking to him like glue.
“What happened?”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything yet. Dean had time. The cops and now the paramedics were gone. People had disbursed. She was looking at her shoes, the line of her shoulders extremely tense.
With no apparent explanation.
He wondered if this was more than just fear over the couple of near misses she’d suffered so far. Already he’d seen indication she had suffered some kind of trauma. He had no idea what it was. But with Dean’s primary function being helping people—whether that was physically or mentally—he didn’t think it was too much to ask what someone he wanted to start a relationship with might need emotionally from him.
Dean wanted a place to go—someone to be with—where he didn’t have to work with them. To not feel like he had to “fix” them, as well as everyone else.
He liked Ellie. Dean had a vested interest in keeping her safe because it was the right thing to do. But if he was going to start a relationship with her, it would be because it was a sanctuary for him, a peace he found with her. Not more work he felt like he had to do.
“Ellie.” He touched her elbow gently. “I need you to tell me if I’m going to keep you safe.”
Before she could answer, a black and white police car pulled up and Jessica hopped out dressed in her police uniform but with a jacket over the shirt and a hat over her blond hair.
Ellie groaned. Dean figured out why when he saw the thunderous look on her sister’s face. He turned to the officer and nodded a greeting. “Officer Ridgeman.”
Ellie shifted behind him. Using him as cover?
He folded his arms across his chest, enjoying the stretch to counter the fatigue he felt from the work he’d just done at the accident scene. “How can we help you?”
“You can’t.” She pointed at Ellie, who now clutched the back of his shirt. “She can.”
He looked over his shoulder and kept his voice low. “Ellie.”
She lifted her gaze, her face close to hers. Fear stark in her eyes. “I told Jess about the phone call right before I got out of the car. So she could do some technical stuff that police do and figure out who he is.”
“I’m guessing you left your phone in the car,” her sister said. “After you sent me a text.”
“Did you get anything from it?”
Jess said, “Ted is looking into it, but he needs the phone you got the call on.”
Dean turned to Ellie. “What did he tell you?”
“Leave it alone, or else. That kind of thing.”
His gaze tracked the movement of her lips as she spoke. However it was her grip on his shirt, the other hand on his arm, that told the real story. She was scared. “We’re leaving now. Time to get somewhere safe.”
“Good.” She nodded. “I want to go through the backpack and see what there is to find in what I brought from the cabin.”
“Okay.”
“Hold up.” Jessica lifted a hand. She squared up on Dean. “You left her in the car. Alone. And got out to assist the accident?”
“We were closest, so Bill called me. We were first on scene.” Not that he needed to explain himself to her. “We helped, and now we’re leaving.”
He would talk to Ellie later about getting out of the car, even after that phone call. Though he understood fear driving a person’s actions. He’d seen it plenty of times in countries where people saw no rest from war, no refuge from a life in danger. Hunted every second of the day.
He just hadn’t thought he would see it at home where the world around him wasn’t at war. Which was the reason he hadn’t taken the boys up on their offer of joining their team. Dean was done with that. But personal protection detail for a woman he was drawn to? That was exactly what he wanted to do.
Physical protection. If he had to help her get a footing mentally, the way he had to do with Stuart—and a few others—that would only color what was between them. He wanted to be a boyfriend to her, not a therapist.
“You put her at risk. You’re done.” Jessica lifted her chin. “Ellie can come with me, and she’ll be safe at the police department while I finish out my shift.”
“And when you need sleep?”
“I’ll get a protection detail.”
“So do it.” His suggestion was a good one. If she thought she could do a better job protecting her sister, that was fine by him. Dean would step aside, but would probably remain part of the rotating detail she was likely to schedule. Conroy, who was the current chief of police, was a friend. Dean would at least be able to convince him.
There was no reason why he shouldn’t let Jessica take over her sister’s safety.
Except that tiny flex of Ellie’s fingers when he’d made that last comment. The thought of him handing her off to her sister made her nervous. Concerned. Scared. All of the above, or something else. Maybe he could get her to tell him. Or she would continue to keep it a secret
from him. Either way, Dean realized he wanted the chance to prove it to her. She could trust him. No matter what, he was determined not to let her down.
Jessica pressed her lips together.
“You’re too busy,” he surmised aloud. “You don’t have time.”
The lip press curled slightly.
“It’s fine, Jess.” Ellie shifted to peer around Dean’s arm. “I’ll go with Dean, and it’ll be okay. I know you’re in the middle of a case.”
Dean nodded. “I’ve got this.”
Jessica sighed. “I know.”
She’d rather be the one protecting her sister. He didn’t blame her for that, and it was nice to know she felt about her sister the way he felt toward his little brother. Ted was his whole family, as far as Dean was concerned.
He wanted to know if the case was about Stuart, though. If she would tell him. “Big investigation?”
“This guy we’ve been trying to identify for months now.” She ran a hand back over her hair. “Or, at least, it feels like months. First, it was Summers. Then his uncle. Now we’re farther up the chain but… Ellie?”
He’d felt the change in her as well.
She’d let go of him.
Dean turned. Her face was pale, so much he wondered if he was going to have to catch her. “Are you—”
She lifted her hand, palm facing him. Dean stopped walking toward her. She bent double, hands on her thighs, and sucked in breaths. “I’m okay. I’m fine. He’s dead. Right?”
“Summers, or his uncle?”
Ellie whipped up straight with a gasp.
Jessica said, “I knew something happened to you. I’ve been thinking about who, and what. What did they do to you?”
Ellie shook her head. “They’re dead. It doesn’t matter.” She lifted her chin like that would convince either of them.
Dean glanced at Jessica. She was about to argue when her radio crackled and he heard Bill’s voice, though he couldn’t make out the specific words. Jessica twisted the radio to her face and pressed the button. “Lima Charlie six. Show me responding.”
She took two steps backward and pointed at her sister. “We are going to talk about this.”
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