Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1

by Lisa Phillips

  “That’s because Ms. Caleri is your fiancée. I made sure they knew. You didn’t know?” Grant smirked. “Plus, it probably helps that your mother is there to be with Andra in your absence.”

  “Of course she is.” John rolled his eyes, but he was glad. His mom was probably beside herself if she knew anything about what had gone on today. She’d need to feel like she was doing something to help. “Does she know about Pat?”

  Grant’s eyes darkened. “I’ll let you make the call when we get him back.”

  “Okay.” John was trying to convince himself as much as his brother and the other two men in the truck. He couldn’t lose Pat. Not now he’d finally reached a place where they had a shot at a great relationship.

  Bolton pulled up beside the mayor’s house, where the trail started. They piled out.

  Grant gaped. “Who lives here?”

  “The mayor.”

  Grant shook his head and the confusion on his face dissipated by force. “Let’s get to work.”

  Matthias handed Bolton the map. He studied it for a few seconds and shoved it in his back pocket.

  John turned to his brother. “Stick with Matthias.” When Grant started to argue, John said, “Nate, stay here. Ben?”

  Their other brother was gone, which wasn’t bad. The more people involved, the more complicated the operation became.

  John tipped his head to the trail and looked at Bolton. “Ready?”

  The big man nodded. “Two miles.”

  John figured he could handle that without passing out.

  “Half a mile after Andra’s cabin there’s a fork. Head left.”

  John looked at Grant. “See you guys up there.” He looked at Bolton and saw the man was ready. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Side-by-side they sprinted up the trail.

  **

  Nadia Marie brushed sweat from her forehead. With her back against the structure’s splintered siding she twisted around and up to peer in the window. It was little more than a shack, mostly used by guys when they did their ridiculous hunting games which were more like orienteering. Anyone could follow a map.

  Lately she’d had the impression someone else was using the structure for more than just a stopping point. Though, why they would need to come all the way up here just to do the horizontal tango was anyone’s guess. Not like there weren’t enough beds in town. It wasn’t that hard to sneak around unnoticed. Elma Pepper had done it well enough when she killed Betty.

  The cabin was dim. Nadia couldn’t see much and couldn’t hear anyone inside. Was she wrong? She bit her lip. What if she’d led Pat’s father on a wild goose chase up the mountain, and the kid was still safely in town? No. Someone would have found him. But she’d been gone an hour already and Pat could be home, unharmed. The thought was enough to make her want to get down on her knees and fold her hands like a little kid in dire need of a new bike.

  Elma walked past the window, eyes down and wringing her hands in front of her. She turned away and Nadia lifted up more. Pat’s head jerked and his eyes widened. Nadia ducked back down.

  The clearing was quiet.

  Who knew how long it would take the rest of them to get up here. Now she knew where Pat was, and he wasn’t in need of emergency medical attention, so she could stay outside and wait for help. Go in only if it was necessary—like to get between Pat and the blade that killed Betty Collins.

  Who are you kidding? You’re a stylist, not a hero.

  But facing the fact Bolton wasn’t ever going to see her as anything other than…well, nobody, Nadia Marie had come to the realization life wasn’t going to get better unless she made it that way. Pat had seen her. If she didn’t go in, he’d think she had abandoned him. She didn’t want that for John’s son. Especially not after Andra told her they’d played Go Fish while she was in jail. The poor kid was probably scared out of his mind.

  Nadia Marie glanced inside one more time. Pat sat on the edge of the bare mattress while Elma paced back and forth like the nut-job she apparently was.

  Nadia Marie crept around the structure and eased the door handle around slowly, hoping she could get inside before Elma even noticed the door was open. She ducked her head in first and then opened the door all the way. Elma swung around, mid-rant. The words were a mumble and Pat didn’t look especially terrified. Just relieved.

  Elma screamed and ran at Nadia Marie with her arm raised. The huge knife glinted.

  Nadia waited until the last moment, side-stepped her and ran for Pat. He wrapped his arms around her and they moved to the far corner of the cabin. Elma was breathing hard, still brandishing the knife. Nadia Marie shoved Pat behind her. “Put the knife down, Elma. You won’t get what you want if you kill us.”

  “I could kill you. I’ll still have him.” She waived the knife at Pat. “The sheriff won’t care about someone who only cuts hair.”

  “Hey,” Nadia huffed. “You said you liked the way I cut your hair.”

  “Guess what? I lied.”

  Nadia swallowed. “Why are you doing this, Elma? What’s this going to achieve, other than getting you sent out of Sanctuary to jail?” It dawned on her. “Is that what you want? To leave?”

  “You’d think killing Betty would’ve got me arrested. But he had to blame it all on Andra, didn’t he. Harriet is such a liar. She hates Andra almost as much as Arnold does.”

  Palmer. Nadia Marie couldn’t even think his name without her lip curling in disgust. “So you killed Betty, and Palmer got Harriet to frame Andra.”

  “He thinks he can escape. Like I’ll stay here and it’ll be for nothing?” She waved the knife around, froze and went to the door. “Someone’s coming.”

  Nadia Marie pulled Pat to the far corner of the structure.

  He looked up at her. “You’re Andra’s friend.”

  She nodded, hearing the note of anxiety in his voice. “I am.”

  “She killed people.”

  Nadia crouched and pulled him down beside her. “When I was in third grade there was this boy who used to pick on me. Called me names, pushed me around, that kind of thing. You know what I did?”

  Pat shook his head.

  Nadia glanced fast at Elma, who was squinting out the window at nothing, and then looked back at Pat. “I went and found the biggest girl in school and made friends with her. You think he came after me when she was around?” Nadia shook her head. “Now I’m in Sanctuary and there are plenty of people it’s worth staying away from. She’s not one of them. Andra isn’t bad, but she is dangerous. You think anyone’s going to mess with me if she’s my best friend?”

  The corners of Pat’s mouth curled up, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Cool.”

  “I know.” She smiled. “Now I need you to do something for me.”

  Pat nodded.

  Nadia leaned even closer. “When I tell you to, you’re going to run. As fast as you can out the door and down the hill. Okay?”

  His lips pressed into a white line and he nodded again, standing straighter now.

  “Good man.”

  Nadia eyed the chair, wondering if she should grab it and run at Elma. She took one step and the door slammed open. “Hal.”

  Elma swung around aiming the knife. Hal didn’t side-step like she had. He grabbed the wrist holding the weapon, ducked his shoulder and flipped Elma onto her back. Pat’s hand folded into Nadia’s and he gripped her fingers.

  Elma came up with the knife. Hal intercepted the swing and took hold of her wrist, this time with both hands. He glanced at them. “Go!”

  Elma scrabbled around, grasping at Hal’s hands with her free one. Nadia tightened her grip on Pat and tugged him outside.

  Bolton and John were running toward them both sweating as they sprinted up the trail. John didn’t look good, his face covered in red marks and bruises.

  “Dad!”

  “Pat.” John hugged his son. “Where’s Elma?”

  Nadia said, “She’s in there. Hal’s with her, he needs help.”

&nbs
p; Bolton gave her a dark look and ran to the cabin.

  John crouched. “Stay with Nadia just one more minute.” He ran inside.

  Nadia tugged Pat to the side of the trail and they waited. A minute later Bolton came out, hauling Elma by the arm. His grip on her made the muscles in his arm and shoulder flex. He shot her a look. “We’re gonna talk about what just happened.”

  Nadia felt her eyes bug out.

  Bolton strode down the path with the crazy teacher as if that one sentence didn’t make it sound like there was something between them. How could there be? Since when did Bolton see the need to share his opinion on anything with her? He barely knew her name.

  John, who walked with Hal, looked more battered than the older man. Pat hugged his dad again and Nadia stepped away to give them a moment. She touched Hal’s arm. “You okay?”

  “Sure, darlin’. Haven’t felt that alive in forty years.”

  She chuckled. “You know, I could have done that. I was about to hit her over the head and send Pat out.” Nadia set her hands on her hips. “I was taking care of it and you jumped the gun.”

  Hal grinned. “You snooze you lose, darlin’.”

  **

  Andra stared at the older woman beside her hospital bed. Expensive haircut, but she wore it like it was no big deal. Pastel purple knit sweater and white jeans, earrings and a thin gold bracelet.

  “I’m Brenda Mason.” She smiled. “John’s mother.”

  Of course she was.

  Andra swallowed. Her whole body was weighed down by bandages and layers of hospital blankets. The room smelled like a chemical she was sure they’d smeared all over before they cut her chest open. Yes, cut her chest open. Because that was what doctors did when someone wasn’t breathing. They said they fixed it all, but it didn’t exactly feel like it. The doctor had said something about…pneumonia and a thorax, whatever that was. She couldn’t piece it all together. If she was better, why did it hurt this much?

  She blinked. The woman was still there, reading a magazine now.

  Brenda Mason looked up. She set the magazine down and came over. She seemed nice enough when she smiled. “Hi, honey.”

  John had called her that.

  Where was John?

  Andra couldn’t keep her eyes open.

  “You’re drifting in and out.” Soft fingers squeezed Andra’s hand. “But you’re safe. Everything is fine.”

  Andra tried to breathe, but her chest felt like some creeper from a bad horror movie had done a number on her. She tried to speak, but all that came out was, “John.”

  “He went back to Sanctuary.”

  He wasn’t here?

  “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Andra squeezed her eyes shut and something warm tickled her face. Softness—a tissue—wiped it away. John hadn’t come? He said he would, but he’d left her here and sent his mother. It made no sense at all.

  He’d said he wanted to stay with her and make sure she was okay. Andra wanted him there with her so she could cry and scream and yell at him for letting her down when she’d actually trusted his words. Her head swam. Maybe there was some other explanation. Some other reason he’d been called away.

  Or maybe she was just kidding herself.

  Andra was supposed to be above that. She’d kept her heart separated from any kind of romantic attachment for so long, she couldn’t believe how massively she had failed. Had she learned anything? Love wasn’t for her. Relationships, other than her friendships with Hal and Nadia Marie, weren’t for her either and she needed to remember that.

  Especially when it hurt this much to be wrong.

  **

  John watched Pat, who sat on Nate’s lap on a bench both of them laughing.

  John said, “We need to find a way they can see each other. Pat needs his uncles.”

  Grant shifted beside him. “Clearly you need us, too.”

  John folded his arms. “I had it handled.”

  “Seems to me like Hal subdued Elma and Nadia Marie rescued Pat before you even got there. Good people.”

  The reality was they were friends of Andra’s who would risk their lives for his son. Those were the best kind of people. That they loved Andra said a great deal about her, too. Namely, she was the kind of woman who inspired loyalty in others. She had friends who cared about the safety of a child enough to intervene.

  Warmth swelled in his chest. “I really think we’ll be okay here.”

  Grant rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I should deputize Bolton, just to be on the safe side.”

  John glared. He didn’t need Grant interfering, at least not more than just being his boss. He looked around. “Where did Ben disappear to?”

  “No idea.” Grant looked down Main Street. “Nice place, isn’t it?”

  “Right.” John remembered. “You’ve never been here.”

  “Could use some fixing up, though.”

  “You said that at the hearing.” John chuckled. “Good luck getting approval to turn into actual money.”

  “I don’t know.” Grant grinned. “You could probably ask the president to work that out. I hear you have his number.”

  “And his wife and daughter.”

  Grant’s eyes went wide.

  John sputtered, “That didn’t come out right.”

  “I should hope not.” Grant clapped him on the back.

  John blew out a breath. Matthias had driven Hal and Nadia Marie over to the medical center to get checked out and to check on Aaron. They’d given Bolton and Elma a ride to the sheriff’s office first, where she was being detained until the marshals’ chopper arrived. All in a day’s work. Or a week, whatever.

  “So you’re coming with?”

  John looked at his brother. “Yeah, I need to get to Andra. Nate is going to stay with Pat. I don’t want him on the helicopter with Elma, anyway.”

  “I’ll get the report written up and convince the U.S. Attorney’s office to drop the charges against Andra for Betty Collins’ murder. I’ll need a report from you before I can completely clear her. There will be a lot of mess to sort through, but she’ll be back with you before you know it.”

  “Good.” John looked around, exhaling a big breath. His chest had been constricted for a long time. Longer than the last week, for sure. In fact, it might have been the first full breath he’d taken in years. It felt good.

  “So you’re staying?”

  “I have to talk it over with Pat, but yeah.” He looked his brother. “We’re staying.”

  **

  The mayor slumped in the chair, blood dripping from his chin.

  Ben had seen Andra’s face, the days old bruises and her swollen eye. The boot print she’d had on her abdomen. The mayor coughed, expelling more blood onto his white dress shirt.

  Ben Mason grabbed the mayor’s hair and pulled his face up so he could look into the man’s eyes. “You don’t mess with my family.”

  Then he took the rag and wiped off his hands.

  Now they were even.

  Chapter 29

  When Andra awoke, Brenda was gone. The man who had replaced her sat in the same chair, wearing a crumpled suit and loosened tie. The U.S. attorney looked frazzled from being overworked and underappreciated. But the addition of two marshals with their jackets and guns providing an armed guard made the impression a whole lot more formidable. They both stood either side of the door, feet planted and arms crossed.

  Andra told them all about the helicopter ride, the men who’d killed the pilots, the barn and how she’d killed Palmer with a pen.

  The U.S. attorney looked up from his laptop, eyes wide. One of the marshals snorted. Andra looked over but he’d squashed the humor from his face.

  Here it was.

  She’d killed a man. Now it was time to accept the consequences. They would probably cuff her and then leave a guard at the door. The nurses would have to be escorted in and out. The care she had received so far would turn to fear and detached professionalism. As soon as the doctor cl
eared Andra to leave, she would be escorted straight to jail—detained for violating the most important part of her WITSEC agreement. She’d been given a page-long list of stipulations specific to her case. Not murdering anyone else was at the top of the list.

  And now she’d gone and done it.

  That was why John wasn’t here. She’d seen the warmth in his eyes as she lay on the dirt and cried for her future. He’d obviously realized the significance of what she’d said. Grant probably filled him in, and he’d decided not to come with her but to go back to Sanctuary instead. The one place Andra would never be allowed to go.

  The man’s pale eyes assessed her, like Andra was a difficult math problem he was trying to solve. “You understand you’ve damned yourself with your statement?”

  Andra nodded. It was about all the movement she could do, even though the bulk of her injuries were in her torso and the rest of her was relatively unscathed. “I’m not going to lie to you. I didn’t kill Betty Collins—”

  “One—” He glanced down at his screen. “—Elma Pepper has already confessed.”

  “The teacher?”

  The U.S. attorney nodded. “Mrs. Pepper kidnapped Patrick Garrett Mason and held him hostage until—”

  “What!” Andra shut her eyes and breathed through the pain sparking behind her eyes. When it dissipated, she looked at him. “Is Pat okay?”

  “Safe and sound. Rescued by a—” He looked at his laptop screen. ”—Nadia Marie Carleigh and Hal Gorge.”

  “He was?” Except it actually made perfect sense. “Of course he was.” After all, Nadia and Hal had both successfully rescued Andra in their own way. She smiled. Of course they would do the same for a kid.

  The U.S. attorney’s brow crinkled. “This is amusing to you?”

  Andra cleared her throat. “Sort of. Not that Pat was in danger. I’m glad he’s okay because Nadia was right. That is one stinkin’ cute kid.”

  The marshals glanced at each other.

  “I was laughing because that’s precisely the kind of thing Nadia and Hal would do. Despite the fact most people in…where I live, hate me for being a stone cold killer and they’d sooner see me gone than accept the fact they aren’t much better than I was. I still liked living there.” She paused for a beat. “Being arrested for murder, notwithstanding.”