She replaced his hand with hers. “When I was looking out the window. A whole mess of them flew into the air like they’d been disturbed. I wanted to know what disturbed them.”
“Disturbed birds? We’re alive because you saw—” He shook his head. Unbelievable. “It could have been a dog or—”
“I know that,” Jillian snapped. She pulled in a deep breath and said with less heat, “I know that. But for the past ten years I’ve been in the habit of checking every little thing that seems . . . off.”
They had no more time to talk. Fire trucks screeched to a halt in front of Serena’s house. Fire chief Hayden McDonald bolted from the truck and started yelling orders as hoses were hooked up.
Police cruisers pulled up and Colton waited for the unmarked cars to arrive within a few minutes.
He and Hunter had plans to make.
What was she going to do? Jillian watched the firefighters get to work on Serena’s house and shook her head at the senseless devastation. The cut on her forehead stung, but it wasn’t deep and had already stopped bleeding. The flames reached higher.
Oh, Serena, I’m so sorry! She paused in her thoughts, then prayed, But thank you, God, we’re still alive.
Officers swarmed the area, an ambulance arrived, and the neighbors clustered in a tight group to watch the action. Panic started to close in on her and Jillian took a deep breath, reaching for calm in the midst of the chaos. She could do this. She’d planned and trained for this. God willing, she would accomplish her goal and survive doing it.
But at what cost? What about those who wanted to help her? Who placed themselves around her? People she cared about, people like Jeff back in California. Someone had already died because of her.
“Having second thoughts about coming back?” Colton’s quiet question jarred her.
“Yes.” She looked at the burning house and hardened her resolve. “Yes, but I know it’s the right thing to do.”
He studied her long enough to make her start to squirm. Finally, he said, “Then come on, let’s go give a statement. And while we’re out there, I want you to scan the crowd. See if you recognize anyone. Anyone suspicious.”
She snorted. “It won’t be anyone I know. Whoever did this was a hired killer. Your uncle’s not going to do his own dirty work.”
Colton’s nostrils flared, but he held his tongue and simply nodded. “Still, I want you to look.”
“Fine.”
They climbed from the truck. As they approached, two officers stood outside the taped-off area, far enough from the house so as not to interfere with the work of the firemen. Steady streams of water surged from the hoses. Colton flashed his badge, gave his name to the officer, and together they walked to the fire trucks.
Jillian spotted Alexia, her firefighter uniform making her look like something from an alien movie. She’d removed her helmet and sweat ran in small rivers down the sides of her face. Marks from her mask still creased her forehead and cheeks. When she spotted Jillian and Colton walking toward her, her eyes went wide and she broke away from the chaos to meet them halfway. Alexia threw her arms around Jillian.
“You’re all right?” Alexia asked.
“Yes. Scared and shaken, but alive.”
Concern in her eyes, Alexia shook her head. “What happened? Was there a gas leak or something?”
“Not exactly,” Jillian muttered.
Colton said, “I’ve called Hunter and a buddy at the ATF. He said he’d handle the case.”
Alexia’s eyes narrowed. “ATF. Someone blew up the house on purpose.”
Jillian shivered. But of course the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms would get involved.
Colton gripped his phone. “I’m asking Dominic to help as well.”
“The FBI?” Jillian asked. “But this wouldn’t be an FBI case.”
Colton lifted a brow. “It’s an FBI case if someone requests FBI assistance.” His jaw tightened as he looked at the house. “I’m officially requesting assistance. And besides, he’s going to want to be involved in catching the person who did this to Serena’s house.” He looked at Jillian. “I think I’m convinced there’s merit to your story. Parts of it anyway.”
Relief swelled inside her as Hunter pulled up to the scene. She looked at the house being soaked by several high-powered water hoses, then back at Colton. “The part where I insist someone wants me dead?”
“That would be the biggest part.” He shook his head and punched the touchpad. She heard him mutter, “I think we need to go fishing.”
“What?” she stared at him, puzzled. Had she heard him right?
“I’ll explain later.” His attention focused on something behind her as he made a quick call to Dominic.
She turned. Katie and Hunter. Serena should be here soon, but thankfully, her medical services weren’t needed at this scene.
Hunter caught her eye, then looked past her to motion to Colton.
Colton nodded and said, “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m going with you.”
She could see the protest in his eyes and simply notched her chin higher. A sigh slipped from his lips, and without another word, he headed in Hunter’s direction. Giving the burning house a wide berth, Jillian followed Colton around the outside of the fence that separated Serena’s backyard and her neighbor’s. She saw Katie standing next to a large playhouse.
Colton nodded toward the main house and asked her, “Is anyone home?”
“Nope. I knocked several times. Nothing. We’ve got uniforms canvassing the area, questioning the neighbors. Hopefully someone saw something.”
Colton nodded and looked at Jillian. “Was this where you saw the birds?”
She thought about it, closed her eyes, and pictured them taking flight. “Yes.” She opened her eyes. “I think they came from the tree, though. I was looking out the window and they just all scattered like something scared them. And that—” she shrugged—“scared me.”
He looked from the playhouse to the tree. “I want the crime scene unit over here before we start messing with this area.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and punched a speed-dial number. “Rick? Colton here. How far away is your unit?”
“Right behind you.”
Jillian turned to see Rick.
Colton pocketed his phone. “Thanks for not wasting any time. If you’re here, you must be short staffed again.”
“I am. What do you have?”
Colton filled him in while Hunter and Katie discussed various possibilities about how the “bomber” had launched an explosive device from this yard without being seen or heard.
“How far do you think it is from here to Serena’s?” Katie asked.
Hunter shrugged. “A football field length? A little less?”
“Yeah.” She glanced up at the trees on either side of her.
“Let me get to work over here,” Rick said. He pulled out a flashlight and got to work on the playhouse.
Jillian focused her attention on the action surrounding Serena’s house. She caught sight of Serena making her way toward the cluster of officers in front of her house. Anger and frustration combined themselves with the anguish she already felt at her friend’s loss. Jillian took a step to go back to the house and beg Serena’s forgiveness, but stopped when she saw Alexia turn and throw her arms around Serena as she reached the group. The sight gave Jillian a measure of relief, knowing Serena had support right now. Jillian decided her begging could wait.
She turned back to listen to the detectives’ discussion. For the last twenty minutes, the only chatter had been about the possible evidence being collected. She glanced at her watch. 8:02. They were running out of daylight. In less than fifteen minutes, it would be dark. And still the sweat pooled under the weapon at her back and in between her shoulder blades. She glanced up into the tree to the right of the playhouse and a light flutter caught her eye.
Rick finally stood and said, “I think we’re good here. I don’t know what I was lookin
g for, but if it was left here, I’ve got it now.”
“Did you find anything at all?”
“Maybe. I took prints from the playhouse, but I’m not holding out much hope. There’s nothing to indicate anyone was here, really.”
“Right. Thanks, Rick.” Colton said.
Jillian heard him, but her attention was on the tree. Walking over to it, she looked up again, but couldn’t see what had snagged the attention of her peripheral vision. Ignoring the law enforcement chatter going on behind her, her investigative reporter instincts kicked in. She climbed on top of the playhouse for a better look up in the tree, keeping her shirt pulled low over the back of her pants waistband. She wasn’t ready for anyone to know about the gun yet.
“What are you doing?”
Colton’s voice made her pause. She braced her hands on the limb that was now at chest height. “There’s something in the tree.” With practiced ease, she hauled herself up on the limb before Colton could protest.
“Hey, it might be evidence.”
“Then give me some gloves.”
“Jillian, let Rick or me do that.”
“I’m already up here. Give me some gloves, please?” she insisted.
With a low growl and a mutter she was glad she couldn’t understand, he grabbed a pair of gloves, then made his way up to sit on the branch beside her.
She stared at him in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Collecting whatever you said you saw. If we wind up in court, my evidence isn’t getting thrown out because someone other than law enforcement collected it.”
“Oh.”
“Right.” He looked around her. “Now, what did you see?”
She swallowed hard and motioned. “It’s some kind of material.”
He looked where she pointed. “How did you see that? It looks like a leaf.”
“I was looking in the tree, because I’m pretty sure this is where all the birds came from. I just saw it hanging there and thought it looked odd.”
Colton reached around her. As he did, she could feel the heat radiating from him and smell smoke mingled with the musky scent she remembered from high school. In spite of the heat, goose bumps pebbled her arms and she gulped.
Then noticed something else.
The limb in front of her made a nice resting place for her elbows. Leaning forward, she had an excellent view of what used to be Serena’s glassed-in porch.
7
Frank watched television news anchorwoman Kylie Wharton rise from the table. He stood too and she smiled as she gathered her purse. “It was a pleasure, Senator.”
“Always, Kylie. When will the story run?”
“Probably on the eleven o’clock news tonight and the morning news tomorrow. That was a nice donation you made to the boys’ home and our viewers eat that stuff up. Gives them a break from the crime that seems to surround us.”
“I’ll be watching.” They shook hands and the pretty brunette gathered her purse and walked toward the exit as Frank felt his pocket vibrate. Without taking his eyes from her pleasing form, he took his seat again and pressed the talk button on his iPhone. “Hello?”
“She got out.”
Frank sat straighter in his chair, the only outward sign of his distress. He gripped the edge of the table tightly to keep his emotions in check and forced a smile. “How?”
“I don’t know.” The tight words held frustration and fury. “She was looking out, watching. I could see her. Then she suddenly turned. I pulled the trigger and thought that would be it.”
“But she got out.”
“Yes.” He cursed. “I don’t know what made her decide at the last minute to leave the house, but she did.” A pause. “Colton was there.”
“What!” Frank’s voice came out in a hiss, drawing him a few stares from the sparsely populated restaurant. “Hold on a minute. I can’t talk about this here.” He got up and tossed his napkin and a twenty-dollar bill onto the table and strode outside. Even this late, humid heat blasted him and it took a minute for him to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, refusing to believe Jillian was still alive. “All right, go ahead.”
“Like I said, she’s still alive.”
“Unfortunately I got that part. Any witnesses? Anyone see you?” Frank’s heart beat harder. “Did Colton see you?”
“No. No one saw me.”
“What was Colton doing there?” Frank’s brain scrambled for a reason as to why his nephew would be at Serena Hopkins’s house with Jillian Carter.
A humorless laugh drifted through the phone. “I don’t know. I was already in place, watching the house when he drove up. I didn’t realize who he was until she screamed his name.”
“I don’t know what you were thinking, trying to get Jillian by yourself. This isn’t what you do. If you try to handle this yourself, you’re going to make a mistake. You don’t do this professionally.”
A slight sigh slipped through the line. “Not anymore anyway.” He paused. “Look, I have to do it. If I keep using my contacts, the cops are eventually going to put it together. It’s time to just take care of this myself.”
Frank wasn’t sure he liked that idea. “If you get caught, it’ll come straight back on me. We can’t afford that.”
“I’m well aware of that,” the killer snapped.
Frank’s jaw tightened. “Well, I know people too. I’ll see who else might be a good pick to help us out.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the sweat dripping from his brow. “I’ve got to get out of this heat. Don’t do anything else. I’ve got an idea.”
“What kind of idea? You can’t do anything that’s going to get back to you. You have to keep your nose clean for this election. Both of our careers are on the line.”
“Like you, I’m well aware of that,” Frank snapped.
Silence on the other end. Then a low voice said, “No need to bite my head off. I’m on your side, remember?”
A sudden chill slid down his spine and Frank backpedaled. He needed this man. No need to make an enemy of him. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed.” He slipped into politician mode. The apology sounded sincere even to him.
“I know,” the voice soothed. “I get that. I’m going to take care of it.”
So you’ve said for the past two months, Frank thought to himself. Instead of saying what he wanted to, he simply sighed. “Fine. I’ll be working on something from this end. And don’t worry,” he hastened to reassure the man on the other end of the line, “I won’t do anything without running it by you first.”
“Good.”
“But for now, stick with my nephew. Find out why he’s with Jillian.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m keeping an eye on him. In fact, I’m watching him and Jillian right now.”
Frank frowned at the man’s tone. “Don’t do anything stupid like kill him. That would just hurt the campaign.”
“I don’t know . . . a dead nephew, a grieving uncle. Might buy you some sympathy votes.”
Frank swore and walked toward his car. “Leave him alone. Keep him out of this.” He unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel.
“What if he won’t be kept out of it?”
Frank took a deep breath and waited for the pain to subside like it always did. He was way too stressed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean it looks like he’s planning to take a little trip with the girl.”
Concern beat with a steady hum through Frank’s blood. “Follow him.”
“What if she’s already told him what she knows?”
“He won’t believe her.” Would he? Of course not. “I can handle Colton, you know that. I’m the father he always wished he had.”
“You’re not competing for Father of the Year, our goal is to win the election. You better keep that in mind.”
“I’m not likely to forget it anytime soon. Now you do your job and let me do mine.”
Monday
8
“Fishing? That’s yo
ur Plan B?” She had followed him out of his house and stood next to his truck, frowning. Colton thought about how cute she looked first thing in the morning, then reined in his thoughts and frowned right along with her, because he didn’t need to notice that. He’d picked her up at the hotel, and when he asked how she slept, she’d answered with a shrug. “Fitfully.” The Bible on her bed told him what she’d been doing when she wasn’t sleeping.
“Yeah, it’s a safe place for you to hide out for a bit while I check on some things.”
“Check on what?”
He gave a sharp whistle and Jillian jumped. He smiled. “Sorry.”
“What was that for?”
Colton nodded his head toward the woods. “I’m taking them with us.”
Jillian turned and he heard her give a gasp as his two matching German shepherds bolted from the trees. Tongues hanging, tails wagging, they raced for him. Colton gave a hand signal and both dogs skidded to a halt and sat in front of him. He looked around. “Best alarm system ever invented. No one’ll get close without these two setting up a howl. Or more likely a growl.” He motioned her over and she walked around the truck to stand next to him. “Jillian, I’d like you to meet Bert and Ernie.” She lifted a brow at him and he shrugged. “I didn’t name them. They’re retired military working dogs. I adopted them about three years ago.” He paused. “I wanted Mr. Snuffleupagus too, but one of my buddies took him.”
“Sesame Street?” Jillian leaned over and gave each dog a scratch behind the ears. Instant love for Jillian had the dogs squirming for her attention.
He defended the names with a shrug. “Military guys have a weird sense of humor.”
“Huh. Kind of like cops.”
Colton’s lips quirked. “Exactly.”
Jillian shook her head. “People and their weird animal names. First Serena with her Star Wars fetish and now you and Sesame Street.”
He snapped his fingers and waved a hand toward the truck. The dogs responded without hesitation and hopped in the back.
When a Secret Kills Page 5