“We’ll keep it quiet.”
She nodded and escorted them to the door where they met Hunter coming back from the car. Colton slid the envelope in the evidence bag and sealed it.
Mrs. Benjamin shut the door behind them and Colton looked at Jillian and Hunter. “Looks like we have a busy day ahead of us. Let’s grab some lunch and then go see what the Pikes have to say.” They made their way to the vehicle and Colton pulled his phone out. “Katie, I need you to make a visit to a Mr. and Mrs. Vance.” He spouted the address Jillian figured he’d looked up even as he was interviewing Mrs. Benjamin. “Find out where that fifty grand came from that they gave to their daughter on June 10th, 2002.”
He hung up and looked at Jillian. “Let’s get some food. I’m starved.”
21
Hunter climbed into his vehicle and pulled away from the curb. Colton settled in the driver’s seat of his rental truck and cranked the engine, ready to follow Hunter’s exit. Jillian sat beside him, staring out the window. The look in her eyes said she was thinking about what Gerald’s widow had revealed.
He couldn’t deny something weird was going on—or that someone was after Jillian. And his gut said his uncle was involved somehow. He simply couldn’t deny the evidence that seemed to be unfolding with every question they asked and answer they got. He glanced at his phone. Still no call from Uncle Frank.
Jaw set, he punched in the man’s number—and listened to it ring until it went to voice mail.
Pulling away from the curb, he shot a look over his shoulder and caught sight of a gray sedan sitting two houses down against the curb. It hadn’t been there when they’d pulled up.
“What is it?”
Jillian’s question jerked his attention to her then back to the rearview mirror. “Hunker down. There’s a car parked on the curb behind us.”
Fear shot across Jillian’s features, but her jaw tightened and her hand sneaked around to her lower back where she kept her weapon. The gun had been rescued from the wreckage of his truck and returned to her. He wasn’t sure that was such a great idea.
Colton got back on the phone, one eye still on the mirror as he pressed the gas to head down the street. The gray sedan followed. “I’ve got a tail. Gray sedan. Wait until I get out of the neighborhood, then let’s play oreo. I want to know who’s back there.”
“Got it.”
“Oreo?” Jillian asked.
“You’ll see.”
He sensed Jillian tense as he got closer to exiting the subdivision.
The gray car was still behind him. To Hunter, he said, “He’s not even trying to hide. Might just be a neighbor.”
“Guess we’ll find out.”
Colton stopped at the stop sign, then pulled out into the street. He went fifty yards with the sedan still on his tail, then slammed on his brakes. The car behind him did the same but was nearly bumper to bumper with Colton. Hunter pulled up fast, trapping the vehicle between him and Colton. Colton opened the door to get out of his car. He told Jillian, “Stay down, will you?”
“Be careful.”
The gray sedan’s driver door opened and a tall man stepped out, hands held in plain sight. “Is there a problem?”
“Blake?” Jillian’s screech nearly punctured Colton’s eardrum. Before he could stop her, she was out of the car and racing for the hulk of a man who’d turned to face them.
When Jillian launched herself into the man’s arms, something twisted inside Colton. Something dark and—green.
He was jealous. He took his time getting out of the vehicle since she didn’t appear to be in any danger from the one she’d called Blake.
Blake. Who still had his arms around Jillian. “I take it you know this guy?”
Jillian spun out of the man’s embrace to look back at Colton. “Yes. This is Blake Wyatt. Blake, Colton Brady and Hunter Graham.”
Colton cast glances up and down the road. He saw nothing, but that didn’t mean anything. “Can you get back in the truck? I don’t like you exposed out here in the open.”
“Sure.” Jillian backed toward the vehicle without taking her eyes off Blake.
Colton wished he could read what she was trying to communicate. Whatever it was, Blake seemed to understand, because he gave her a slow nod, then shifted his eyes to Colton with an unreadable look.
Colton turned to Hunter. “I’ve got a new hotel arranged.” He gave him the address. “Rendezvous there?”
“Yeah.” Hunter speared Blake Wyatt with a look. “You follow me, I’ll follow them. Clear?”
Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Crystal.”
Jillian figured she’d be grilled like a steak on the way to the hotel, but Colton kept his lips sealed and his jaw tight enough to shatter.
She swallowed hard and shook her head. When she’d realized it was Blake, she’d been terrified something had happened to Meg, but his first words were that Meg was fine.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. Why hadn’t Colton said anything? Why did he look so angry? “You okay?”
“I’m great.”
Which was a big no. “What’s wrong?”
He lifted a brow and glanced at her then back at the road. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Why are you so . . . angry and closed up?”
“Who’s Blake Wyatt?” he clipped.
She lifted a brow and said just as short, “A friend.”
A snort slipped from him. “A friend? Come on, Jilly, I saw the way he looked at you.”
Jillian felt her hackles rise. “He looked at me like a brother looks at a sister, or a friend looks at another friend. There’s nothing romantic about our feelings for one another.”
For a moment he didn’t say anything. Then he asked, “How do you know him?”
She sighed and glanced out the window. “He saved my life.”
“How?”
“After I left home that night, I took bus after bus. I didn’t stop to sleep or eat or . . .” She winced at the memories. “By the time I got to California, I was about to collapse.” She waved a hand as though there were too many reasons to list. And there were. “I ended up in a homeless shelter, and one night when I went to take a shower, a man was there, waiting.” She gulped and blinked at the awful memory. “He told me not to scream and he wouldn’t kill me. I screamed anyway—and fought like a madwoman.” She’d had a baby to protect. Colton’s baby. A short laugh slipped out. “I think it shocked him and bought me enough time for someone to come to the rescue.”
“Blake.” His voice was subdued. She looked at his face and saw the tension in his jawline.
“Yes. Blake. He was out in the lobby, trying to talk his brother into coming home with him. When he heard the commotion, he beat security to the bathroom.”
“You seem to have a lot of trouble with bathrooms.”
The memory of the incident at the airport made her shudder. “Well, one every ten years isn’t terrible. That first incident was a lot scarier.” At least this time she’d been on her guard and known a few things about defending herself.
“So Blake rescued you and ten years later you’re still friends with nothing romantic between you?”
His disbelief hurt—and roused her temper. “His wife wouldn’t have appreciated it,” she snapped.
Colton’s eyes closed for a split second before he opened them to watch the road. Then he shot her a sidelong glance. “His wife, huh?”
“Yep. His wife. A woman who ended up being one of the best friends I’ve ever had.” Sara, who’d taken her in and accepted her. Who’d loved her like a sister and taken care of Meg when Jillian couldn’t. Sara, who’d been diagnosed with ovarian cancer too late. Sara, who’d died in Blake’s arms on a wintery night in December three years ago. Jillian crossed her arms across her chest and clamped her jaw tight as she stared straight ahead. The hotel came into view and Colton wheeled into the parking lot.
He pulled into the nearest spot and spoke into his phone. “Any tails?” After a short pause, he n
odded and said, “Headed to check in, then up to the room. Meet you there.”
Jillian grabbed the handle and shoved the door open.
Colton’s hand clamped down on her left wrist and she turned to glare at him.
“I’m sorry.”
His quiet apology slid under her anger, cooling her ire and easing some of the tension in her shoulders. “Don’t judge me, please.” Not yet anyway, she added in her thoughts. He had a right to be furious with her, but not about Blake.
He released her wrist and sighed. “Okay.” But still his eyes bored into her. “I have a feeling there’s so much you’re not telling me.” His phone buzzed and he broke eye contact to ask, “What have you got on Wyatt?”
Jillian tensed. He was checking out Blake? More listening. “Right. Okay. Thanks.” He paused, then glanced at the entrance to the building. “Still clear?”
She waited, got a short nod from him, and slipped from the car.
Once inside the lobby of the hotel, she stepped to the elevator. Colton joined her. “Wyatt checks out clean.”
“I never thought he wouldn’t.”
As Colton went to check in, Jillian scanned the lobby, her eyes taking in every detail, noticing each person who even glanced at her. Her blood hummed and her adrenaline surged.
The lobby doors swooshed open as Hunter and Blake entered. Colton waved them over as his phone rang. He snagged it. Pressing it to his ear, he once again did a lot of listening as they rode to their floor.
The elevator dinged and Hunter stepped out first. Colton put his phone away and Blake held her back until Hunter gave the all clear.
Jillian shook her head at all the drama. She accepted that it was necessary, but she wanted her life back.
Once they reached the room, she looked around. It was practically a twin to the one they’d just left. She turned to the guys. “I need a few minutes.” She went straight into one of the bedrooms and shut the door. Her heart thudded, pounding out a familiar rhythm of fear and anxiety as she set her small bag on the bed. What was she going to do? Blake was here. He’d obviously remembered that Colton was the name of Meg’s father. What if he slipped up and said something before she had a chance?
She slumped on the bed and dropped her head into her hands.
She had to tell Colton about Meg. Jumping to her feet, she faced the mirror and took a good hard look at herself. “You can do this. You knew this day was coming. It’s time for the truth to come out.” The words bounced off the mirror. “Truth. That’s what you’re here for, remember?”
“Jillian? You okay?” Colton’s words floated through the wooden door.
“Yeah, I’ll be out in a second.”
“I’ve got some information to talk about and I don’t want to repeat it.”
“Coming.”
Right. Okay. The pep talk helped. Prayer would do more. She bowed her head and went still for a full minute, petitioning the One she’d come to trust. The One who could protect. Elohim. Almighty God.
Jillian opened the door and came face-to-face with Blake, his fist lifted to knock. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Jillian lifted a brow. “Is she fine?”
“Yes.”
Relief stooped her shoulders for a brief moment. Then she stood straight and slipped around him, putting the problem his presence presented on the back burner for the moment. She looked at Colton as she took a seat on the couch. “What information do you have?”
“Dominic just called. We have the identity of the man who attacked you in the airport bathroom.”
1:45 PM
Frank crumpled the note that had arrived an hour ago. He’d barely made it to the mailbox before Elizabeth.
“I’m perfectly capable of getting the mail, dear,” she’d stated with exasperation tinting her voice. He wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if she’d rolled her eyes.
“I know that.” Without bothering to try to come up with an elaborate excuse, he shoved a few pieces of junk mail at her. “I’m expecting a check from a contributor.”
Forcing a smile, he motioned for her to go ahead of him into the house. With another puzzled, slightly irritated look over her shoulder, she shook her head and walked into the foyer. Frank shut the door behind him and turned left to head to his office.
“Frank?”
He stopped and turned. “Yes?”
“Have you talked to Colton yet?”
“No, why?”
She gave a delicate shrug. “I was just wondering what he wanted. That’s all.”
“I’ll give him a quick call.” Anything to get away from her prying eyes. He thought about the papers hidden away in his safe. Maybe it was time—
No. Not yet. After the election.
“What do you have there?” she asked, pointing toward his hands.
Frank’s fingers curled around the mail. “What do you mean?”
“You’re gripping it like it’s gold and someone’s going to take it away from you.”
His anger flared at her mocking smile. “Don’t be silly, Elizabeth. I’ll be in my office.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode down the hall to his haven. He shut the door just as his phone vibrated.
He snatched it from his pocket. “Hello?”
“She’s got a protection detail to rival the president’s,” the voice rumbled in his ear.
“What now?”
“I’m having trouble getting close to her. She’s got protection all over her. You’d think the woman was someone important.”
Silence echoed back at him. Then his partner said, “I saw something interesting this afternoon. Something that might be her weak link.”
“What’s that?”
“I was trying to get close but was maintaining a distance while they were at Gerald’s house.”
“Gerald’s house?” Frank felt a coronary coming on.
“Don’t worry, she can’t tell them anything.” As Frank was about to protest, the man went on, “Anyway, someone else was tailing her. Her watchdogs clamped down on him.”
“Someone else? Who?”
“I don’t know who he is, but Jillian was happy to see him, gave him a big old hug. Like she hadn’t seen him in a while.”
“We need to know who he is.”
“I’m working on it.”
“What else?”
“I’m guessing if they talked to Mrs. Benjamin, Conrad Pike and his wife are somewhere on their list to talk to.”
Frank scoffed, but it lacked confidence. “They don’t know anything.”
“I’ll keep you posted.”
Frank hung up and tucked the phone back into his pocket with a frown. Too many people were too close to Jillian. He couldn’t kill them all.
His eyes landed on the newspaper he’d just read this morning and an idea started to take shape.
He opened his fist and laid the crumpled note on his desk. Using two hands that weren’t quite steady, he smoothed the bumps and ridges until he could read, “THE CLOCK IS TICKING. SOON THEY WILL KNOW WHAT I KNOW.”
Yes, it was always good to have a Plan B.
22
“Nicholas Tremaine,” Jillian repeated. “Who’s that?”
“Dominic’s digging into it while he’s at the hospital with his father. What we now know is the man was former Navy. He wasn’t in the AFIS fingerprint system. Dominic had the idea to check the military database and found him. We’re looking into his unit and will see if any connections turn up,” Colton said. “Except for one incident, the man had a stellar record, but was something of a rogue. His last psych eval showed some red flags, and when told he would have to go through mandatory counseling, he finished his term and opted to get out. Honorably, but with that kind of screwup . . .” He shook his head. “You don’t get over that.”
“What kind of red flags?”
“A mission that went south. He was a sniper. He hit the wrong target.”
“What?” Blake snorted. “Tha
t’s Navy for you.”
Colton lifted a brow. “Hunter said you’re Army.”
“Yep.”
“Special Forces.”
“Yep.”
Even if Hunter hadn’t passed on the information, Colton would have guessed it. Blake had a tenseness, a special watchfulness and constant awareness of what was going on around him that shouted military. He looked at Jillian. Kind of like her. Only she wasn’t military. Was Blake the one who’d taught her how to use a gun? Defend herself? Look for the extraordinary in the ordinary, like disturbed birds suddenly taking flight?
Probably.
He told Blake, “Well, to give the man his due, he was given the name by his superiors. They just had the wrong name.”
Blake winced, a flicker of compassion showing in his hard blue eyes. Maybe the man wasn’t all bad. He shook his head. “Guess I can see how that could mess a dude up.”
“What’s his relationship with your uncle?” Jillian asked, her voice soft, yet firm.
Colton stiffened. “No relationship. Why?”
“Did you ask?”
No. He hadn’t. He hadn’t even thought about it. Keeping his gaze on hers, he pressed Dominic’s speed-dial number. When he answered, Colton said, “One more thing. See if you can find out if there’s a connection between Tremaine and my uncle.”
“I thought about that. Was going to do that anyway, but now I don’t have to sneak it.”
Ouch. “Right. Thanks.”
“Just kidding. I knew you’d ask for it.” Approval tinged his friend’s voice, but it still rankled Colton that Jillian had to remind him to check that. Maybe he needed to start wrapping his mind around the possibility that his uncle might have something to hide. Like murder. And remove himself from the investigation. “Yeah.”
He hung up and Jillian bit her lip and dropped her gaze. She murmured, “Thanks.”
“Sure.” Colton sighed.
As soon as he hung up, his phone buzzed again. He watched Jillian stand and walk to the window. She stood to the side, moving the curtain a fraction in order to look out.
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