by Liz Johnson
“Um…no. It’s Tony.”
Jeremy sagged into the seat of his car, steering around a trash can along the side of the road. He had to get to Heather in time. He just had to.
But he didn’t even know where she was.
Braking at a stop sign, he considered which turn to make. Would she still be home? Had she gone to the PNW office? Or had she decided she needed help and gone looking for him?
Doubtful on the last two options, he turned toward her town house, pushing the engine hard.
“Jeremy, you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here, Tony. What’s going on?”
Tony sighed. “I heard something about Heather today. I knew you’d want to know right away.”
Jeremy’s grip on the wheel nearly cut off circulation to his fingers. “What’d you hear?”
“One of the other guys brought in a guy who was spouting off stuff about how a lawyer paid him to take a message to his boss about an FBI agent being in the park tonight at sunset for a meeting.”
“Did he call her by name?”
“No, but he’s been mumbling about how she’s going to get what her sister got.”
“What park?” Jeremy demanded. He squinted into the setting sun, his mind racing but not finding a plan to settle on.
Tony’s voice, which usually passed for a pretty good James Earl Jones impression, turned soft. “I don’t know. The perp wouldn’t say. He passed out drunk before we could get any more info out of him. I have him in lockup, but he’s useless now.”
“How many parks are there in the city?”
“There has to be at least a dozen just this side of the 205.”
Jeremy slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He had just minutes to figure out what park she’d be at, but where could he possibly start?
Still speeding toward her house, he swerved to the shoulder, pulling to a stop. He didn’t have time to waste going in the wrong direction.
“What can I do, man?” Tony finally asked.
“Put out an APB on her. And one on Clay Kramer.”
“Kramer? As in…”
“Kit’s fiancé…and I think he’s the one Heather is about to meet in the park. She just doesn’t know it.”
After several long moments, Tony groaned. “This is going to get messy. What else can I do?”
“Pray.”
“Done.”
Immediately after ending the call with Tony, Jeremy dialed Nate on his personal cell phone, which he’d given to Jeremy before sending him off to meet Gordon.
“Jeremy? Have you talked to Heather? She’s still not answering her phone.”
“No. But I just talked to a buddy at the P.D. He has info that Heather set up a meeting with our guy at a park tonight at sunset.”
Nate’s voice sounded thick. “But it’s after five already. Are you headed to the park?”
“I don’t know which one.” Jeremy rubbed his hand over his hair. He wanted to pull it all out, but he mustered the energy to refrain. Finding and protecting Heather. That was most important.
Through the phone a chair creaked and Nate hollered to someone else. “Myles! You remember when Heather took care of Kenzie’s dog, Henry?” There was a short pause. “Didn’t she take him to a park?”
The other voice sounded distant, but Jeremy could still make out his words. “Sure. She took him to Fernhill. I think it was near her sister’s place, and they met there a few times. Why?”
Nate’s voice came clearly back on the line. “You get that?”
“It’s worth a chance.” Jeremy peeled out, pulling into traffic and pulling a one-eighty at the nearest light.
Sailing down the road, lights flashing and siren going, Jeremy prayed like he had never prayed before.
“God, please let me get to her in time. Please let her be at Fernhill Park, and let me get there before anything else happens to her. Don’t let this be like…”
His voice cracked, and he couldn’t continue the words that he wanted and needed to say. He needed to admit how long he’d carried the weight of shame and regret over the loss of Reena and his other friends. He needed to put a voice to the fear that had kept him from realizing the true depth of his attraction for the special agent who had taken over his life the last week.
But as the buildings flew by in a blur, he could only think about the last words Heather had spoken to him. She’d told him he was doing exactly what he’d accused her of. He’d refused to give control to God, wielding the responsibility for something that wasn’t in his control.
“Heavenly Father, Heather’s right. I thought I could have and should have protected Reena, and I should have spoken up. But I wasn’t in control of anything that day. You were.”
He heaved a loud sigh as the bottom of the sun slipped below the horizon in his rearview mirror. “We’re running out of time, but I’m trusting You to be in control today, too.”
Heather checked the time on her cell phone again. Two minutes past the time she’d told Lee Cooper that she’d be in the park and another two missed calls—one from Jeremy and one from Nate. The last of Jeremy’s messages that she’d listened to had been an hour earlier.
“Call me right away, Sloan. Get home immediately. Just check in with me!” he’d yelled. After a short pause in a defeated voice, “Heather, I’m sorry for the way we left things, but I’m going crazy with worry here. Nate got me a way to find Mick Gordon, and I’m heading to his place right now. So just…don’t do anything stupid. I need to know that you’re okay.”
Pushing away all thoughts of the two men and possibly the loss of her job she’d have to face after this, she thought about the lawyer who she’d been certain would pass the information along to his client. This was still the best idea she had. In mere minutes she could know the identity of her sister’s killer and make sure he got what he deserved.
She rubbed her hand across the waistband at the back of her jeans, confirming that her service weapon still rested beneath her light jacket.
The sun wasn’t quite gone yet, but the park was beginning to clear out.
A breaking stick behind her made her jump, and she turned around as fast as she could, while leaning heavily on her crutches. A little brown dog barked at her, then picked up the stick he’d been chewing on and trotted off.
Her heart didn’t calm down as fast as the dog disappeared, and she rubbed her palms on the foam handles of the crutches. She didn’t really need them anymore, but it wouldn’t hurt for her to have a little secret when this went down.
If it went down.
She scanned the faces of the people wandering on the other side of the park, and as it had been a year ago when she’d taken a friend’s dog here, this section seemed almost deserted, save for a puppy here or there.
Suddenly she picked out a figure in her peripheral vision walking straight toward her. Turning to look at his familiar strides, she almost rubbed her eyes, not believing who was headed her way.
“Clay! What are you doing here? Are you all right? Where have you been?”
The setting sun was at his back, making it difficult to see his face until he was close enough to reach out to touch her arm with a warm hand. “I’m fine.”
She touched the red mark at his hairline where he’d been cut during his attack. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
She squinted at him, trying to figure out what was wrong with the picture in front of her. Clay looked like he always did, polished and handsome. His khakis and blue dress shirt had been perfectly pressed, his hair meticulously combed into place.
She took a careful step back, her stomach twisting. “Where have you been?”
“Taking care of business.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal that he’d just disappeared from the hospital and not been in touch for two days.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice almost cracked, but she kept it together with a concentrated effort.
“I came to see
you.” His face didn’t move, didn’t show any emotion, and Heather took another step back. He mirrored her actions. “I came to see if you’re okay. Clearly you still are. And it’s high time that situation was remedied.”
She swallowed the lump building in her throat, fear boiling in her stomach. “How did you know I was here?”
His lip curled, transforming his features into perfect cruelty.
The truth formed in her gut like a rock, stealing her breath and leaving her head spinning.
“Lee Cooper told you.” It wasn’t really a question.
“Of course he did. And since no one else could get done what I’d been asking them to do for weeks, I guess I’m going to have to do it myself.”
She blinked into brown eyes filled with hatred and wished that she had returned at least one of Jeremy’s phone calls.
“You’re shaking,” Clay taunted, closing the gap between them by another step.
“N-no I’m not,” she lied, blinking against the anger mixing with her fear deep in her chest.
“What did you think was going to happen here tonight?” His tone continued mocking her, but his eyes remained cruel, hard as the barrel of her gun pressing against her lower back.
“I thought Kit’s killer was going to come, and he has.” She sucked in a quick breath, as Clay shrugged one shoulder and carelessly turned his head away for just a moment. She reached behind her back and yanked the gun from its hiding place.
In a fraction of a second, she had Clay’s chest lined up with the site at the end of the barrel.
“You’re not going to shoot me,” he said with a laugh. “You have too many questions about why all of this has happened and what happened to your sister. I’m the only one with the answers you need.”
She shook her head, denying what she knew to be true. She did want answers.
The sun finally set completely, leaving only the park lights to illuminate Clay’s arrogant smirk.
The rage inside her churned, and she jabbed her gun at him. “Just give me a reason to.”
Suddenly a dog barked right behind her, and she jumped. With incredible speed Clay grabbed the gun with his left hand and wrenched it from her grasp. With his other hand, he produced a black pistol from under his arm.
Heather’s vision narrowed, and she couldn’t take her gaze off of his weapon as she waited to die by the same hand that had killed Kit.
Only one thought broke through the shock.
She would never see Jeremy again.
God, forgive me for what I said to him. And please help him forgive me for landing myself in this situation…and for dying before I had the chance to tell him I love him.
EIGHTEEN
Heather stood frozen, unable to move or even process the truth she’d just realized. She loved Jeremy—and she was about to die.
“Oh, did you think you’d have the upper hand out here?” Clay mocked, pouting his lower lip. “You weren’t expecting me, were you?” His mouth twisted with hatred as he took a menacing step toward her, the gun mere inches from her chest. He couldn’t possibly miss a fatal shot at this distance.
With his free hand he gestured to the empty park behind him. “I guess we’re all alone now.” He cocked his head to the right. “And to think…we were almost relatives.”
She closed her eyes and Jeremy’s face immediately appeared.
The way his hair fell across his forehead and the way his dark brown eyes glimmered in the early morning. The way he drank nearly solid coffee. The way he held her close and kissed her as though he’d never let anything else ever happen to her. The way he hadn’t retaliated when she’d been so terrible to him.
She had to live. She had to make it through this, if only to apologize.
And if she were lucky, maybe more.
Maybe there was a bigger reason for what they had endured. A plan for why they’d been thrown together like this. She squeezed shaking hands into fists, resolve flooding her veins and giving her the strength to open her eyes and look at the whole situation before her.
She swallowed thickly, willing her voice to stay strong. If she could keep him talking, maybe she could stall him long enough to come up with a plan to get away. “Why Kit?”
Like a Cheshire cat that drank milk intended for someone else, he licked his lips, and she had to physically rein in the full-body shudder it evoked. “What is it that they say about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer?”
“So the whole time, your relationship was just a ploy? You were never in love with her?”
“I’m running a business, Heather, and if Kit had figured out what was going on, then she would have blown everything. Keeping her close was the easiest way to know how much the D.A.’s office knew.”
“What did she figure out that cost her her life?”
Clay shrugged, running his hand through his hair. “Enough.”
“That you were using PNW choppers to carry drugs across state lines?”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t really matter. She wasn’t worth the hassle anymore.”
Heather fought the rush of tears that burned her eyes at the way he so flippantly dismissed the life of someone she loved so dearly. “So just like that, you sabotaged the helicopter to get rid of her?”
“Of course not. I don’t know the first thing about helicopters. I have people for that.”
“Geoff? Or maybe Newt?”
He lifted one shoulder. “Newt doesn’t have the stomach for the details. He was happy to carry my merchandise, but the minute I suggested he might need to lose one of his precious birds, he wilted like a lily. Geoff, on the other hand, was more than happy to meet the chopper when it stopped to refuel.” He lifted two fingers to form scissors. “Snip, snip.”
Heather’s stomach rolled. “What about the pilot? He must have known about the drugs or he wouldn’t have stopped to pick them up.”
“I couldn’t have him thinking anything was different about that flight, could I?” He spoke to her as though she were a very small child with no reasoning skills. “Of course he picked up a package when he stopped.”
“But you wasted those drugs.”
Another shrug, as though he was bored with the conversation. “A small price for getting rid of Kit and whatever she had discovered.”
“But then…if you didn’t know what Kit knew, why did you try to have me killed at the hospital?” Her voice shook, the tenuous hold on her emotions slipping with each passing second as anger began to blot out her fear.
“Don’t act like a fool, Heather.” He shook his head, his gelled hair barely moving. “I knew perfectly well that you wouldn’t let your sister’s case rest like you should. You have no idea how much time I had to spend listening to her talk about how close you were and how she would do anything for you, blah, blah, blah.” He sounded like he wanted to hurl, but in the growing shadows she couldn’t see his face any longer.
“You were supposed to be collateral damage in the crash, but after you didn’t die from the overdose and the break-in, I thought Geoff’s bomb on your SUV would take care of the situation. But clearly if I want this handled right, I’ll have to do it myself.”
The hand, which must have been exhausted from holding the gun for so long, wavered slightly and Heather made a careful move to the side.
“I assume that it was Geoff who broke into my house and vandalized it as well?” He barely nodded before she continued. “And your attack was staged to throw us off your trail?” She didn’t even need his answer to that.
His sigh indicated he was through with the long-suffering interview. “Enough questions.”
“Wait!” She held out one palm toward him, looking around frantically for any sign of help.
“It’s too late. You’re done.”
As if in slow motion, his finger began to constrict around the trigger.
Heart pounding so loudly that it blocked out every other sound, she gasped to fill her lungs. But it was all to no avail.
Sudd
enly a voice that she’d know anywhere, called out across the rolling grass. “Hey! Hold it right there, Kramer! Don’t move!” Jeremy barreled toward Heather and Clay, his arms outstretched, pointing his gun at Clay, shoulders rising and falling with rapid breaths. His quick steps barely favored the injury she’d noticed the day before.
Clay hardly glanced at the other man out of the corner of his eye, a smug expression planted across his features. But Heather couldn’t keep her heart from tripling in speed, each thud physically painful in the tightness of her chest. She tried to snatch a deep breath, but her muscles were like stone.
When Jeremy was still fifty feet from them, Clay spun, pointing the gun at Jeremy. The report echoed among the trees, ringing in Heather’s ears so that she couldn’t even hear her own scream as Jeremy crumbled to the ground.
“You vile—” Her words ended before she really knew what she was saying. Instead, she picked up one of her crutches and swung it at him like a baseball bat.
She felt rather than heard the crunch of metal against his arm, and he fell to the ground in a heap as she took a second shot. The rubber of the under armrest connected with his temple, sending his face whipping away from her.
She stooped and snatched his gun from where it had fallen, resting her finger on the trigger and pointing it at his head.
He deserved it. For everything he’d done to Kit.
For everything he’d stolen from Heather.
He deserved to die.
The rage that shot through her veins and made her want to pull the trigger also stole her breath. She fought to fill her lungs, as the pain of Clay’s betrayal ripped through her entire being.
Still, the gun didn’t waver.
This was for Kit. Revenge.
The air that she had worked so hard to inhale, left in a whoosh as the truth crashed around her. Jeremy had been right. She hadn’t been looking for justice. She’d been looking for vengeance.
Oh, how she wanted this horrible man to suffer as she had, to lose the thing most important to him, his own life. How easy it would be to dispatch him right there.