When a Secret Kills

by Lynette Eason

  He did neither.

  “He tried to kill her. He just attacked her . . .” Shock stood out on the white face of the witness to his right. “I saw him but I . . . it just happened so fast.” She looked at Jillian, her trembling increasing with each word. “I’m so . . . so sorry . . . I—” Her eyes dropped to the man on the floor, whose breathing was shallow and labored, and Colton saw her shudder.

  Jillian shook her head. “It’s all right. You couldn’t have done anything.”

  Colton motioned for a uniformed officer to usher the woman from the bathroom. “Why don’t you get her statement?”

  The officer swallowed hard and nodded. “I called 10-99. Everyone’s rolling.”

  It was going to be a madhouse. TSA, FAA, and the FBI were no doubt already on their way. TSA was in the process of shutting down the airport and screening every person in the building. Colton gathered his composure and walked over to Jillian. He took the paper towel from her trembling fingers and said, “It’s been a long time.”

  As though in slow motion, her eyes lifted to meet his in the mirror. Tears trembled on the edges of her lashes and his gut clenched. Then those brown eyes narrowed. He stared, trying to see past the contacts that covered the blue eyes she’d been born with. Her tears faded. “Ten years.”

  “I’ve been counting,” he said as he wet the towel a little more and wiped up a few spots around her nose that she’d missed. “Did you get any in your eyes?”

  “No.”

  Good. He made a mental note to check with Serena about blood-borne diseases on the dead man. No need to mention that to Jillian right now.

  She hitched her carry-on up again and nudged her glasses farther atop her head, then twisted her fingers together.

  “That’s how I knew it was you,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  “You used to do that same maneuver in high school. Shrug your backpack up higher on your shoulder, then push your glasses on top of your head.”

  She went still and fear flashed across her face. “I did?”

  Colton frowned at the fear. “Yes.”

  “Sir?”

  Colton looked up and away from Jillian’s puzzling expression. “Yeah?”

  “We need to secure the crime scene.”

  Jillian stepped away from the man who’d tried to kill her, and Colton followed her from the bathroom.

  Colton rubbed a hand through his hair. “Looks like Serena will be making a trip to the airport after all.”

  Her throat worked and he wondered what was going through her head. But instead of saying anything, she let out a sigh, looked at the blood on her shoulder, and grimaced. She asked, “Were you my ride?”

  “Yes. I was on my way to church when Serena called me about an hour ago. I called your cell phone, but you didn’t answer.”

  “Of all the people—”

  Colton had to strain to hear her words, but he gathered she wasn’t happy about his presence. Tough.

  She shook her head. “I guess we have to stay here, give a statement or whatever.” Her eyes jumped from one person to the next, her shoulders stiff, posture on guard.

  She was watching, ready for an attack from any side. Colton felt the first stirrings of sympathy for her. “Yes.”

  Jillian dipped her head, hiding her eyes. Her hair slid over her shoulder to cover her face. She dropped her carry-on to the floor and sat on it. “Fine.”

  “Do you have a different shirt in your bag?”

  She looked up, surprised. “Of course.”

  He wanted her out of the open. Even though the bystanders had been ushered out of view of the scene, he wasn’t sure someone wouldn’t try to grab a few pictures with a cell phone. “Why don’t I clear the men’s room and you go in and change? You’ll feel better. Keep the bloody shirt, though. It’s evidence. I’ll get a bag to put it in.”

  With a grateful glance at him, she nodded. The men’s bathroom, right next to the women’s, had been cleared. Colton waved her in. Five minutes later, she returned and placed the shirt into the bag he’d found and now held out to her. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, then slid to the floor, her carry-on bag pulled against her stomach. He gave her another couple of minutes to gather herself, then stood in front of her. “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been doing the past ten years and why you’re back now?”

  Jillian groaned and dropped her face into her hands. “Go away.”

  Anger shot through him and he sank to his knees as he placed a hand beneath her chin to jerk her face up to his. “Oh no, Jillian Carter. I’m not like you. I don’t run away when the going gets tough. I’ve waited ten years for some answers. You’re not leaving my sight until I get them.”

  2

  Jillian swallowed. Hard. Colton’s green eyes had a look in them she’d never seen before. One that said he’d grown up and hardened in the past ten years.

  A look that said he’d suffered when she’d left without a word.

  A look that said she was going to give him answers whether she wanted to or not.

  Unfortunately, she couldn’t do that. Yet.

  Before she had a chance to figure out what to say, the airport doors slid open and more law enforcement descended upon them. Uniforms already swarmed the area, but this new group she knew.

  She breathed a sigh of relief for the reprieve. Colton wasn’t so happy. He shot her a look that said they weren’t finished and turned to fill in the newcomers.

  Jillian registered the faces from her past.

  Hunter Graham, Chad Graham, and Katie Isaacs. She thought she might know a few more, but her befuddled mind couldn’t find the names. She’d worked so hard to forget and yet at the same time couldn’t—she’d known he’d try something.

  And he had.

  Colton’s leadership skills stood out as he spoke. She took a moment to study him. Same shaggy blond hair, green eyes, and square chin. The dimple in his cheek still peeked out even when he frowned.

  “Jillian, is that you?”

  She looked up to see Hunter Graham staring down at her. He’d broken away from the group and squatted in front of her. “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Boy, do you look different. What are you doing here?”

  Jillian sighed. “Coming home. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to go anywhere without trouble following. Sorry about that.”

  “So I’ve heard.” He paused. “Alexia and Serena will be glad to see you.”

  Jillian gave a humorless laugh. “I’m not so sure about that. Knowing me put them in danger. And it’s still not over.”

  “We caught the guy after Serena, but not Alexia.” He paused. “Is that why it isn’t over?”

  “Yes. No. Maybe.”

  “Well, that clears it up.”

  She grimaced. “Sorry. There’s just a lot you don’t know.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “I will.” She looked around. “Just not here.”

  “Right.” He looked over his shoulder and she followed his glance.

  Serena made her way through the airport doors. Jillian wanted to rush over and give her friend a hug, but it wasn’t the time for that. Serena caught her eye and gave a slight wave, the expression on her face saying they’d have a talk later. Jillian nodded and Serena stopped to sign in to the crime scene. After she slipped on gloves and booties, she stepped into the bathroom.

  Jillian’s eyes slid to Colton as he talked to Katie. She was nodding and waving an arm as she responded. “She’s very animated, isn’t she?” Jillian said. “Has she changed?”

  “Animated is one way to put it. And no. She hasn’t changed a bit.”

  Jillian grimaced. “Wonderful.”

  “Aw, Katie’s all right.” He studied her. “You really look different.”

  “I know.” She’d be explaining why later. She let her eyes slide back to Colton. “You trust him? Is he a good cop?”

  Hunter’s brows lifted in surprise. “One of the best. And yes, I’d trust him with my l
ife.”

  “Even though he’s related to Frank Hoffman?”

  Now Hunter just looked puzzled. “The senator? Sure. Frank’s a good man. Might even be president one day.”

  The thought turned her stomach. “Right.”

  He studied her with a questioning look. “Why do I get the feeling you disagree about the good man part?”

  Colton turned and walked over to them. “Jillian, are you ready to give your statement?”

  She shuddered. “Sure.” From the corner of her eye, she saw the airport police officer who fired the shots talking to Chad Graham. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. Grief stood out on his face, and Jillian felt guilt and regret well up inside her. This was all her fault. If she’d stayed in town ten years ago and gone to the authorities, told what she saw . . .

  No. If she’d stayed, she’d be dead. And so would Meg.

  This time she wasn’t going down without a fight. Part one of her plan. Find the evidence to convict Frank Hoffman, and stay alive while doing it. Part two? Find a way to tell Colton about Meg without endangering her daughter.

  Colton helped her to her feet. “Come on. They’re taking statements in a room down the hall. I need you to walk me through what happened.” He motioned for Hunter to join them.

  In silence, Jillian walked beside Colton down the hall. Hunter followed. Colton led her inside the room and she sat at the table. A video camera had been set up to record her statement. He turned it on, pulled out a little green notebook, and said, “Okay, tell us what happened in as much detail as you can remember.”

  Stuffing down her emotions, she said, “I got off the plane and came down to baggage claim. When I didn’t see anyone I knew, I went to the bathroom. When I came out of the stall, the woman screamed—he was . . . there.” She hated the shakiness in her voice, but couldn’t seem to control it. “He had a knife and he tried to stab me,” she drew in a shuddering breath and forced the words out, “but I was able to throw my carry-on bag up and the knife hit that instead of me.” She swallowed hard, remembering the paralyzing fear. She was extremely grateful she’d allowed a friend to talk her into several years of self-defense training. They’d just saved her life. “I kicked him in the stomach, but he managed to tackle me. I think that’s where Colton and security came in and,” she grimaced, “shot him.”

  Colton nodded and snapped his notebook shut. “I have a laundry list of questions. Let’s start with, Have you ever seen this man before?”

  “No. Never.”

  “Was he on the plane with you today?”

  “I didn’t notice him, no.”

  Colton sighed and scratched his chin. “Did you notice anyone following you?”

  “No, Colton, no one. And it’s not because I wasn’t looking.”

  His lips puckered, and memories of their long-ago summer together washed over her. Beneath the table, she curled her fingers into fists.

  He asked, “What about who knew you were flying in today?”

  “No one.” She swallowed hard. “I told no one.” Except the people who had Megan, but she couldn’t say that. And she knew without a doubt they hadn’t been the ones to say anything. No, whoever had known she was on that flight was right here in Columbia, South Carolina.

  “Who’s after you, Jillian? Who wants you—and Alexia and Serena—dead and why?”

  She sighed and closed her eyes as she tried to find a way around her answer. But she couldn’t. Opening her eyes, she said, “Your uncle, Senator Frank Hoffman, wants me dead because I saw him murder a man ten years ago.”

  3

  “What?” Colton jerked and nearly dropped the notebook as he registered her words.

  Jillian lifted her chin, eyes clear, determination etched, shoulders squared. “It’s true. I saw him do it.”

  “I don’t believe you.” He heard the frigid tone in his voice, saw her flinch, then narrow her eyes.

  “It doesn’t really matter if you believe me or not. It’s why I left that night and it’s why I’m back now. To prove it. With or without your help.”

  What she was saying was crazy. And a lie. But why would she lie about something like that?

  She pointed toward the door. “That man tried to kill me to shut me up.” Her jaw firmed. “Well, it’s not going to be so easy this time. I know it doesn’t look like it, considering what happened in the bathroom, but I’ve had ten years to learn how to take care of myself.”

  Colton watched her eyes. They flared with truth and determination. A sinking feeling swirled in his gut. She believed every word she said. He shot a glance at Hunter, who’d been quiet through the whole conversation. But the frown pulling his brows toward the bridge of his nose suggested he was thinking. Hard. “Hunter?”

  “There’s something . . .”

  “What?”

  “Something I read not too long ago.” He rubbed his chin. “It was when someone was after Alexia and we were searching for the guy. We had connected that whoever was after Alexia had something to do with the night Jillian left town. I researched all of the crimes and 911 calls that came in that night.”

  “What’d you find?” Colton asked.

  “Something about a gunshot being reported in your uncle’s neighborhood, but when authorities got there, all was quiet. The police did a drive-by, stopped at a few random houses to ask questions, but came up empty and just wrote it off to a car backfiring.”

  Jillian drew in a deep breath and asked, “And what was the date of that report, Hunter?” Colton could see that she already knew the answer to the question.

  Hunter looked first at Jillian, then at Colton. The sinking feeling grew. Hunter said, “Graduation night. Like I said, it was the night you left town.”

  “And they covered it up. Somehow.” Jillian fidgeted with the carry-on, the hole from the knife a visible reminder that someone had really tried to kill her.

  But Uncle Frank involved? Colton shook his head. Impossible.

  “Excuse me?”

  Jillian jumped and Colton swung around to see Serena and Rick.

  He stood and shut off the camera. “What do you have?”

  Serena gestured for Rick to go first. He said, “I’ve got his prints.” He held up a device and Colton exchanged a look with Hunter. Rick caught the exchange and snorted. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to force you to add to your limited knowledge at this point in time.” However, a small secretive smile crossed his face. A smile that made Colton nervous. Rick didn’t explain the look. Instead, he said, “I just came to tell you that your dead guy isn’t in the system.”

  “Of course not,” Colton muttered. “That would be too easy.” He looked at Serena. “Your turn.”

  Concern knit her brow as she glanced at Jillian, then over to Colton. She said, “I’ve already talked to TSA and the FBI, but wanted to fill you in. Cause of death is pretty obvious. The three shots to the chest killed him. He bled out before the ambulance pulled in the parking lot.” She looked at Jillian. “There was no ID on him. You know who he is?”

  “No. Not a clue,” she said. “I’m sure he’s just a hired killer. Someone to do the senator’s dirty work for him.”

  Colton looked at Jillian. “You can’t make these kinds of accusations without proof. If you go public with that kind of thing, you’ll ruin his career. Ruin my family. Is that what you want?”

  He saw a deep weariness invade her features before she schooled them. Her brown eyes held his as she said, “I have no intention of making accusations I can’t back up with solid proof. That’s why I’m here, to get proof.” Her gaze flicked back and forth between him and Hunter and Serena. “And that’s why I’ve told you what I have. Now if I turn up dead, you’ll have your motive.”

  Colton rocked back. The confrontation in the bathroom, seeing Jillian again, fighting memories of their past—and now hearing her talk as if his uncle was a murderer swarmed together in his mind. He looked around. “We need to talk. After I finish here, we have some serious catching up to do.�
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  She lifted her chin. “Fine.”

  Hunter nodded and Colton made a mental effort to loosen his jaw before he shattered his teeth. He narrowed his eyes at Jillian. “Where are you staying? Your dad’s?”

  “No.” She didn’t elaborate. “Not there. I was going to get a hotel room and go from there.” She paused. “My top priority is to put a killer behind bars and stay alive while doing it.”

  Serena smiled and spoke up. “You can stay with me until you figure out what you’re going to do.”

  Hunter shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Serena. You’ve already been targeted and we don’t know that it’s over.”

  “Exactly.” Serena hitched her chin much like Jillian had done moments before and looked first at Hunter, then Colton. “If she’s with me, it’ll be easier for you to keep us safe.” She motioned to a man who hovered discreetly behind her. “Besides, I have a shadow. He can watch us both at the same time.”

  “Dominic might have something to say about that,” Colton said.

  “Wait a minute,” Jillian said. “Dominic? Alexia’s brother?”

  “You and Colton aren’t the only ones who need to catch up.” Serena lifted a brow at Colton. “Dominic will agree.”

  Colton smiled. “Yeah, I guess he will if you ask him.”

  Serena nodded. “I’ll ask him.” She stepped the rest of the way into the room and rounded the table to gather Jillian into a quick hug. “Welcome home. Get your things. I’ll show you where I live.” She looked at Colton. “Once you’re finished here, will you bring any luggage Jillian can’t get to right now to my house?”

  “Sure.” Colton frowned as Serena led Jillian from the room. Neither woman paid attention to the man who moved to follow them, but he made eye contact with Colton and nodded. Colton nodded back. Dominic had hired someone to continue watching out for Serena. Anyone with Serena would receive the same treatment. Jillian was safe.

  For now.

  Jillian stepped into Serena’s house and shut the door behind her. Serena’s shadow stayed outside. She set the hard case box containing her weapon onto the table in the foyer. Getting it had taken some doing. But Jillian had followed all regulations for flying with a firearm. After TSA had searched everything except her large suitcase that hadn’t shown up by the time she was ready to leave, they had returned her things. She set down her small suitcase and slid off her backpack, taking in her surroundings. “I’m impressed,” she told her friend. “This is nice.”