When a Secret Kills

by Lynette Eason

  Colton acted it out. Hunter fell to the ground and Jillian pushed Colton down to the concrete. She stood back, held her hands to her face, and tried to stop the shaking.

  She gathered control as best she could and said, “That’s what I saw.” She frowned. “But that’s not what Serena said happened.”

  “Okay,” Rick said. “I’ve got it. I’ve also got the dummies and the lasers. Let’s set them up and we’ll run through it with the real stuff.”

  By the time they got everything set up, Jillian felt like she’d been hit by a truck. So much drama and trauma in one day.

  Rick looked at her. “Are you sure you didn’t hear more than one shot?”

  Jillian frowned. “No. It was just one.”

  Rick motioned to Katie. “And you’re sure the senator’s gun fired?”

  “Yes.”

  Rick nodded. “Okay, I think I might know what happened. Get one of the lasers and go stand in that area of the trees along the walking path.” Katie cocked her head like she wanted to ask questions, but didn’t. She walked over to where Rick indicated. Rick then handed Colton one of the lasers. “Point it at Hunter and see where it lands.”

  Colton did. It hit the dummy in the left shoulder.

  Rick said, “He was shot in the upper right side of his back.”

  “How?” Jillian whispered. “I know what I saw.”

  “I suspect you saw exactly what you say you saw. I think the senator did fire the gun at the governor. Only he missed.” He walked over and studied the brick wall behind the dummy’s left shoulder. “It’s chipped. My guess is the bullet from the senator’s gun hit the wall.”

  “What?” Jillian stared, incredulous.

  “And the person standing where Katie is now,” Rick went on, “is the one who actually shot the governor. In the back.”

  “But there was only one gunshot.”

  Rick shook his head. “There were two. Fired simultaneously to sound like one shot.”

  Friday

  34

  Jillian headed for the coffeepot in the small but efficient kitchen next to her room. After yesterday’s stunning revelation, she hadn’t known what to think.

  So Senator Hoffman hadn’t shot the governor.

  Then why did he want her dead?

  Or—what if it wasn’t him? What if it was the real shooter? A sinking sensation swirled in the pit of her stomach.

  She poured the coffee and took a sip.

  Blake sat on the couch, staring at his phone. He hadn’t said a word to her as she’d walked into the room. “Hey, you okay?”

  He looked up and she went cold as she saw his panicked expression. Rangers didn’t panic. Ever.

  She’d only seen that look on him one time before—when the doctors had given his wife three months to live. “What?” she demanded. He covered his panic with that blank look she hated and couldn’t read. “Don’t look at me like that. What?”

  He sighed and ran a hand across his lips. “Mom texted me. She was on her way back to her friend’s house when Tony called her and told her there’d been a break-in at the ranch. He said the place was trashed.”

  She knew immediately what that meant. “They tracked you to the ranch. For real this time.” Her stomach twisted as nausea rose in her throat.

  “I’m sorry, Jillian.” His tortured eyes told her how sorry he was. It wasn’t his fault. She hadn’t told him everything. He said, “My buddy realized what that meant and headed straight to the airport.”

  “The airport?” The words squeaked from her suddenly tight throat.

  “Meg’s on her way here. She lands at Columbia airport in a little under thirty minutes.”

  “What!” This time the word was a cry of distress and sheer terror. “He sent her here? She can’t come here!”

  “What is it?”

  Jillian whirled to face the man she’d once loved with all her heart. He held a green and white bag that indicated he’d made a donut run.

  He’d slipped into the suite without her hearing. But there was no way Blake hadn’t known he was there. Blake had let Colton overhear the exchange. She shot him a betrayed look and saw the guilty flush that darkened his cheeks. He didn’t apologize.

  Fury—and a certain weird gratefulness—warred within her.

  It was time.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I have to tell you something,” she whispered. “And this is not how I wanted to do it.”

  His brows drew together. She sensed, more than saw, Blake slip from the room. Wariness invaded Colton’s eyes and she drew in a fortifying breath. Oh sweet Lord, please give me the words . . . “I have a daughter. A nine-year-old daughter. Her name is Meg and she’s in danger.” She watched the words register. He swallowed hard, then blinked.

  In a voice so soft she had to strain to hear, he asked, “A daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she’s—nine?”

  “Almost ten,” she whispered. “Christmas Day. In four months.”

  He nodded and his jaw worked for a good three seconds before he managed, “Almost ten. So . . .”

  He looked away, then back. She was sure he was doing the mental math. She could see the question stamped in his eyes before he forced it out.

  “She’s mine?”

  A sob slipped from her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

  “So she’s mine.” A statement this time. A strangled three-word sentence that nearly shot her to her knees.

  “Yes, she’s yours.” Jillian bit her lip, refusing to try to find words to justify her actions. It would be a futile search.

  He spun away from her. She knew better than to push him for a response. Instead, she waited. And silently prayed. He turned back to her, his eyes shuttered, chilled. “You’re sure?”

  The cold question knocked the breath from her as the pain lanced through her heart. Okay, she could give him that one. He deserved it. “Yes. I’m sure. You’re the only one—”

  “Where is she?”

  “On her way here.” She repeated what Blake had just told her. “She lands in about twenty minutes.” Anxiety tugged at her. “We need to go, now.”

  His nostrils flared, his eyes fluttered. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Then we’re going to need some reinforcements.”

  Colton couldn’t seem to catch his breath as they raced to the car. Blake offered to follow behind to make sure no one tailed them. Colton absently agreed.

  Even while his mind reeled with this latest shock, it was also in cop mode. He wanted to rush from the room and find a quiet place to process the fact that he had a daughter, yet he wasn’t to have that luxury. They climbed into the car and sped toward the airport.

  As he drove, he tried to force his mind to work. And all he could hear was Jillian’s shaky voice telling him she’d borne his child. A child who’d existed for almost ten years. A child who had his blood running through her veins.

  Aware of the woman sitting next to him, he ignored her, dividing his focus between driving and praying. Silently, he begged, Oh God, I need some help with this one. What do I do? What do I say? What do I even pray?

  He’d called in reinforcements to make sure Meg was secure the moment the plane touched down. He’d done his duty as a cop.

  How was he supposed to act as a father? Resentment threatened to smother him. Anger with Jillian threatened to evolve into full-blown hatred. How could she have kept this from him? They had loved each other. She was supposed to trust him.

  A small voice whispered the thought: She’d just seen a murder. Was she supposed to trust an eighteen-year-old kid on the outs with his parents?

  Part of the fury faded. A small part.

  “Colton?”

  Her whisper tore at him. He looked at her, her face ravaged by her guilt and terror for her daughter. Their daughter. Colton felt the anger buzz anew and snapped his gaze back on the road. “You came looking for me at the party to tell me you were pregnant, didn’t you?”

 
“Yes.”

  “So you were going to tell me.”

  “I was.”

  “And then Uncle Frank shot the governor. Or at least you thought he did . . .”

  “And he saw me.”

  Colton paused. “I became a cop to find you, you know. As a cop, I had more resources available to me.” His lips twisted as he shot her a sad look. “But you were too good for me. I still couldn’t find you.”

  “Only because I had Blake to help me disappear.”

  Yeah. Blake . . .

  His phone buzzed and he forced himself to check the number. Dominic. “Hello.”

  “I’ve got security on high alert at the airport. We’ve been in contact with the pilot of the plane and Blake’s buddy who’s been taking care of Meg. Everything should be fine. Once she’s on the ground, Jillian will meet her at the gate.”

  Some of the tension in Colton’s shoulders eased. But not much. “Thanks, Dominic.”

  “Anytime.”

  “How’s your father?”

  A low sigh came through the line. “Fading fast.”

  Colton winced. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well . . . I’m just worried about his eternal destination.”

  “What does your mom say?”

  “She just shakes her head and says what a good man he used to be. Her pastor came by and talked to him when he was having a lucid moment. He looked at mom and mouthed the word, ‘Sorry.’”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Alexia left the room at that point, but she was praying, I could tell.”

  “I’ll be praying too.”

  “Thanks. You okay?”

  “Sure. Why would you ask?” He couldn’t help the sarcasm.

  “You’re under enough pressure to crack the strongest man right now.”

  He kept his gaze from slipping to Jillian. He couldn’t look at her. “I’ll be all right. Thanks.”

  He tightened his grip on the wheel . . . then released.

  He needed time.

  Space.

  He needed to think and pray.

  And he needed to see—meet—his daughter.

  35

  Jillian thought her heart might just break in two. In fact, she was quite sure it already had, because she’d never felt a pain like this before. This kind of pain stemmed from being the cause of another’s pain and it hurt to even breathe.

  When Colton’s phone rang, she jumped.

  He looked at her. “It’s Dominic again.”

  “Put him on speakerphone? Please?”

  Colton did. “Yeah?”

  “We’ve been doing background stuff on your uncle and those close to him. Those especially involved in his campaign. We keep coming back to one name.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Elliott Darwin.”

  “Elliott?” Colton rocked back. “He and my uncle have been friends forever. Elliott’s like another uncle to me.”

  “Elliott was also in the same unit with Nicholas Tremaine. They were in the Navy together.”

  Colton went still and Jillian stared at him. “The man who tried to kill me at the airport?” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” He told Dominic, “We’ll be at the gate in a few minutes. As soon as I know she’s safe, I’ll call you back. But text me updates if you have any.”

  Jillian heard Dominic say, “They’re looking for Darwin now.”

  “Try my uncle’s hospital room.” Then Colton pulled into the parking lot at the airport.

  Jillian shook her head. “I can’t believe Blake’s buddy brought her here.”

  “Too late to worry about that now,” Colton said.

  She sighed. “I know. Let’s just get her and keep her safe.”

  8:16 AM

  Jillian followed Colton into the airport. His phone rang as they walked into the building. He snatched it. While he talked, Jillian’s eyes searched the boards for her daughter’s flight. Relief coated her nerves as she found the ON TIME status at 8:22. Then her breath hitched as it changed to DELAYED. She rushed to the counter. “Why is flight 2327 delayed? Is something wrong? Did something happen on the plane?”

  The attendant peered at Jillian over the top of her glasses. “No, ma’am, everything is fine.” She clicked a few keys on the computer. “We just have several flights arriving at the same time. Some are having to circle for a few minutes until we can get everyone on the ground.”

  Jillian sagged. “Okay, thanks.” She looked at the board again and saw the time now said 8:31. She could handle that short delay.

  Blake hung back and she knew he was watching for anyone and anything suspicious. Colton hung up, spoke to security, and flashed his badge to everyone who got in his way. Jillian stayed right behind him, her goal to get to the gate and gather her child in her arms.

  She finally made it to the gate and could go no farther. Her eyes darted, her nerves tingled.

  Please, God, let her be fine.

  Her arms ached with a physical pain that only the feel of Meg would soothe. Jillian’s heart thumped and her adrenaline flowed. She glanced around, her eyes bouncing from one person to the next. The man in the hoodie. Was he waiting for Meg? Waiting to snatch her and hold her as leverage against her mother? Or was it the innocent-looking blond with the Coach purse and high heels?

  Get a grip, Jillian. She took a deep breath and felt Colton’s gaze on her. He’d hung up the phone, but his tight lips and narrowed eyes said the news wasn’t good. Either that or his response was due to the fact that he was going to meet his daughter for the first time. Her stomach dipped and swirled and she thought she might be sick from the nerves and fear alone.

  But the senator was in the hospital. There’d been no more attempts to kill her since the day before.

  Colton’s hand squeezed her shoulder. “She’ll have security all around her. Blake’s buddy is with her. She’ll be fine.” Even after what she’d done to him, he still offered her comfort. Emotion swept over her, tears rising to the surface. She loved him. She’d never stopped.

  What a relief to admit it.

  “I don’t know what she looks like,” Colton said as he looked at passengers. The raw pain in his voice nearly shattered her.

  When she could speak again, she whispered, “She looks like you.”

  Jillian felt the fine tremor that shook him.

  Time passed at a snail’s pace. She glanced at the clock on the wall, then at the door Meg would come from. Colton paced, and while Jillian knew he should be distracted by the thought of meeting Meg in just a few minutes, she noticed he never stopped scanning the area, never let his guard down just because they were in an airport with extra security. And neither did Blake.

  The flow of people picked up. The plane had landed and was now unloading.

  Jillian tensed as she watched each person. She examined the face of every child.

  Where was Meg?

  36

  “There!” Jillian gasped and pointed as she grabbed Colton’s arm. “There she is.”

  Colton honed in on a slender young girl with reddish gold hair and long skinny legs extending from her green shorts. He felt frozen, unable to move.

  “Mom!”

  The child’s high-pitched cry reached his ears as Meg hurled herself down the rest of the steps. Blake’s friend, a tall man in his late twenties with a shiny bald head, hurried after her. Colton’s eyes darted from one face to the next, looking for anything that represented danger to her. Only when Meg flung herself into Jillian’s arms did the tension in Colton’s shoulders relax a fraction.

  “Oh Meg, I missed you, baby.” Jillian buried her face in Meg’s neck.

  “I missed you too, Mom. Now can you let me go? You’re smashing my nose.”

  She looked like a young Liliana Mumy. He waited.

  “Uncle Blake!” Meg flew from her mother’s arms into Blake’s waiting ones. He lifted her easily from her feet by her biceps and brought her eye to eye with him. “Hey, Spunky.”

  She kissed
his nose. “Let me down.”

  Blake put her on the floor and reached out to shake Meg’s escort’s hand. “Tony.”

  “Blake.”

  “Thanks for keeping her safe.”

  “No problem. She kept me on my toes.” He shook his head and said, “Give me a tour in Iraq any day, it’s easier.”

  Colton also shook the man’s hand. “You need a place to stay?”

  “Naw, I got a buddy here who’s been asking me to come visit. He’s waiting on me now unless you need anything else.”

  “I think we can take it from here.”

  Meg and Tony said their goodbyes, the little girl giving him a neck-crushing hug. Colton saw the man smile. Not such a hard heart after all.

  Colton continued to assess the area as did Blake now that Meg was safe and Tony was gone.

  And then the little girl was standing in front of him, eyes wide, mouth open. He offered her a smile. “Hello, Meg.”

  She reached out and touched his hand. It felt like she’d singed him with a match. “You’re real.”

  Confused, he squatted so he was eye level with her. “Of course I am.” With his forefinger, he tapped her on the forehead. “Just like you are.”

  “No, I mean you’re . . . you.”

  Colton’s eyes sought Jillian’s. Tears stood there, trembling on her lashes, fingers pressed to her lips. Meg had recognized him. His heart thudded. “Who do you think I am, Meg?”

  A grin spread across her lips, exposing a deep dimple in her left cheek. “My dad.” She pulled a locket from beneath her shirt and opened it. Then she turned it around so he could see it. His high school senior picture. “Mom gave it to me and said I needed to know what you looked like when I met you one day. I been waiting a lo-o-ong time.”

  Colton felt the air in his lungs simply leave. The knot in his throat made it hard to swallow. It was a good thing Blake was there to watch for any trouble because Colton was simply unable to function at the moment. Somehow he found his voice. “She told you about me, huh?”

  “Sure. She told me all kinds of stuff about you. She said you were the best thing that ever happened to her, next to me of course, and that you loved me even though you never met me.” Another grin and a flash of her dimple and Colton was lost.