When a Secret Kills

by Lynette Eason

  She shook her head. “I was followed to work yesterday. Dominic was with me and noticed the tail. I still have Chris, my bodyguard, and if the person following me was planning to try anything, he was scared off.”

  “And Alexia?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Probably because I’m here,” Jillian said. “I’m the one they’ve wanted all along.”

  Serena yawned. “Well, I’d better get back to work before I decide to go home and take a nap.”

  Colton stood. “I’ll walk you down.”

  “No need. Chris is right outside the door.”

  They said their goodbyes and Serena left, Chris at her side.

  Colton turned. “Why don’t you get some rest while you can? I’ll entertain Meg.”

  Jillian bit her lip and he smiled.

  “Come on, Jilly, I want to spend time with her.”

  “All right. I am exhausted. Maybe I’ll take that nap since Serena can’t.”

  “Great.” Glee entered his eyes. “Hey Meg, you want to play charades?”

  Meg came to the door and crossed her arms. “Any chance I can talk you into a swim?”

  Colton motioned the little girl over. “I promise, when all of this is over, I’ll take you swimming.”

  Meg released a heavy sigh. “I don’t get it. We’ll be inside and you’ll be there. You won’t let anything happen to me.”

  “Which is why we’re going to play charades.”

  Another dramatic sigh ensued. She turned back into the room, and Jillian was just about to reprimand the child for being rude when Meg came back into the room with a deck of cards.

  “Can we at least play something fun like Texas Hold ’em?”

  “Meg!”

  Meg shrugged and gave them an innocent look. “What?” Then giggled. “Okay, how about Hearts?”

  Saturday

  38

  Jillian opened her eyes—to an empty side of the bed. She reached out a hand to run it over the shallow indentation left by Meg’s head.

  Then frowned as she looked at the clock.

  What was Meg doing up so early? Especially when her body was on California time, which would be 5:30 in the morning. Usually when she had the chance to sleep in, Meg did so. But it was a new place, a strange situation. Maybe she couldn’t sleep.

  So where was she?

  Shoving her tangled curls from her face, Jillian sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She heard the suite door click as she stumbled into the bathroom.

  Empty.

  Maybe Meg and Colton were having breakfast. Jillian dressed in a pair of shorts and a yellow T-shirt. She stepped into the main living area and stopped. Also empty. Now the worry kicked in. “Meg? Where are you?”

  Colton came from the other bedroom, freshly shaven, eyes alert. “What is it?”

  “Is Meg with you?”

  “No.” He frowned. “I thought she was sleeping in there with you.” He walked to the balcony’s sliding door and looked out. “She’s not out there.”

  The knot in Jillian’s stomach doubled. “Where’s Blake?”

  “He’s doing a routine safety check of the hotel. You know, the stairwells, the elevator . . .”

  Her blood hummed as her pulse picked up speed. “All right. Meg’s gone. Blake’s gone. He wouldn’t have taken her with him, would he?”

  Colton’s jaw went rigid. “Not if he has any brains.” He pulled out his phone and she knew he was calling Blake. She raced back into the bedroom and slipped her feet into the flip-flops Alexia had provided.

  Back in the living area of the suite, Colton stood by the door. “Blake doesn’t have her. He’s looking for her now.”

  Jillian’s fingers curled into fists. “I can’t believe this. She slipped out of the room.”

  “If she’s not here, it’s the only explanation.”

  “But why? When I get my hands on her . . .”

  She started toward the door and he said, “Wait a minute. You can’t go out there. This might be some kind of trap to get you out of the room.”

  “Or it might be a way to get me alone in the room with no one to help me fight back.”

  He grimaced. “Yeah.”

  He pressed his eye to the peephole, then opened the door. They slipped into the hall. She noticed he kept his hand on his weapon even though he hadn’t pulled it. Yet.

  She stopped and said, “I heard the door click.”

  “When?” They walked toward the elevator.

  “Just a few minutes before I came in the living area looking for her. I thought it was you or Blake coming back with breakfast or something.”

  “Blake was gone at least thirty minutes before that.” They stepped onto the elevator. “We’ll check the lobby.”

  Jillian swallowed hard. “She did leave on her own then,” she whispered as frantic fear spread through her veins. “We have to find her.”

  “We will.”

  “The pool.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t check to see if her suit was missing, but I’m guessing she went to the pool.”

  “Then that’s where we’ll check first.”

  Hysteria welled. “What if he’s watching the hotel?” She managed to control the quiver in her voice. “Can you call Blake and tell him to check the pool?”

  Colton dialed the number. “No answer.”

  The elevator dinged, indicating they’d arrived on the first floor. Colton held her back when she would have dashed off. He stepped out, looked both ways like he was crossing the street, then motioned for her to follow him.

  Jillian hurried after him. “The pool’s that way.”

  “I know.”

  Together, they headed toward it.

  As they drew closer, Jillian heard a scream that shot terror straight to her heart. “Meg!”

  Colton bolted in the direction of the scream, his heart pounding. He rushed into the pool area. A woman stood staring at the emergency exit and she spun at his entrance.

  Her eyes widened as she saw his gun. He flashed his badge and she pointed to the door. “He took her! Just grabbed her and went out the door.” Colton didn’t have time to waste. He hollered to Jillian, “Stay with me!” He shoved his phone at Jillian. “Call 911!”

  “I already did,” the woman called.

  Jillian stayed on his heels, her breaths coming in panicked gasps as she tried to keep up while dialing. “I’m trying Blake.”

  He burst through the exit into the sweltering outdoor heat.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw movement, heard Meg’s scared cry. Feet pounding against the asphalt, he raced toward them. “Police! Freeze!”

  And the man did. For a split second.

  Blake appeared on the opposite side of the would-be kidnapper. “Let her go!”

  Meg hollered and kicked back into his shins. He flinched, but didn’t loosen his grip.

  Jillian rushed up. “Let her go! She’s just a little girl!”

  “Let me go!” Meg screamed. “Mom!” Her eyes landed on Colton. “Daddy, help me!”

  Colton felt his heart slam into his chest at her words. Daddy . . .

  The man spun, Meg still clutched against him, his face covered with a black mask. “Get back! Get back now or she’s dead!”

  Colton felt Jillian’s presence behind him, her terror making the air vibrate around them. Blake caught his eye and pulled his weapon. Colton said, “Meg, be still. The man is going to let you go.”

  His small daughter in her blue-and-black bathing suit ceased her struggles, her gaze locked on his. Colton felt the trust in her eyes leap out and grab him by the throat. He couldn’t fail. “Let her go!”

  “I can’t do that. She’s my ticket out of here. Now back off!” One hand gripped Meg, his superior strength no match for the scared nine-year-old. Colton saw the flash of a weapon in the other hand.

  Sirens rent the air and the kidnapper froze. His eyes changed, his body language signaled his intent to run.
<
br />   Blake stepped forward just as the man turned and spotted him.

  “Back off! Back off!” He raised the gun to press the muzzle against Meg’s temple and backed toward the waiting vehicle.

  Colton immediately saw his plan. As soon as he was between the car and the trees, he’d be almost home free.

  “Don’t move! Drop the weapon!”

  Officers yelled.

  Blake moved closer.

  “Blake, get back!” Colton yelled.

  Meg’s scared cries broke his heart and filled him with determination to save his child.

  Blake said, “Let her go.”

  “I’m leaving. Just let me go and I’ll drop her somewhere safe. Somewhere you can find her.”

  “Not going to happen,” Blake spat.

  The kidnapper whirled, lifted the gun, and fired.

  Blake dropped.

  Jillian screamed as he fell. Meg’s frightened cry echoed hers. “Blake!”

  While the circle of blood pooling on Blake’s chest grew larger, the man in the mask yelled, “Does that let you know I’m serious?” He started backing toward the car. “I’m getting out of here!”

  “Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” Colton ordered the other officers.

  Jillian knew Colton wouldn’t let them take a chance on hitting Meg. The little girl was an effective shield.

  Jillian, heart pounding, looked up to see the man’s eyes on her. She shivered. She’d recognize those eyes anywhere. Eyes from the lake house. The gun in his right hand lifted. “Get over here.”

  “No,” Colton said. “She’s not going anywhere.”

  The gun pressed against Meg’s temple and the little girl cried out.

  Her mother’s heart slammed inside her chest and she moved forward. Colton jerked her back.

  “Let me go.”

  “You can’t go and give him two hostages.”

  She kept her eyes on the man who’d terrorized her and her family for the last ten years. “I’m going for my daughter. But be ready.”

  She jerked away from him, and before he could grab her back, she moved out in the open toward the man who held her heart in his hands.

  “Faster! Get over here or I’ll shoot her!”

  Jillian shuddered at the look in his eyes. He’d do it. Her blood thundered in her veins, the gun a deadly reminder that she would only have one chance to escape. One chance to get it right.

  Meg saw her coming and squirmed, reaching for her.

  “Jillian!”

  She ignored Colton’s angry shout. Her baby needed her. As soon as she rounded the car and was within range, the man transferred the gun to her temple and she winced. “Get in!”

  Jillian pulled Meg to her and hunched as best she could, covering her child with her body, praying his finger wouldn’t twitch and blow a hole in her head.

  “Go, go!” the man yelled. “Get in the car!”

  Jillian knew the minute they got in, they were dead.

  Cops hollered, Meg cried, Colton yelled. Jillian did her best to block it all and focus. Remember what Blake had taught her.

  “Go!” the man yelled again.

  The gun slipped away from Jillian’s head as she opened the car door and shoved Meg in. Then to her captor’s surprise, she slammed the door and whirled, bringing her arm up to jam her elbow into his exposed throat. He gagged, spewed. The gun fell to the ground. Jillian kicked out to catch him in the stomach.

  A shot rang out, followed by two more, and he dropped like a rock.

  39

  Jillian looked down at the bleeding man who’d caused her and those she loved so much misery. Before Colton could stop her, she ripped the mask from his face.

  He howled his outrage even as he gripped his bleeding shoulder. Stunned, she simply stared. “Elliott Darwin?” She spun to see Colton, weapon still trained on the man, approaching. He looked shell-shocked and she could easily read his thoughts.

  First his uncle, now Elliott?

  “He has a vest on,” Colton muttered. “No wonder he wasn’t too worried about being shot.”

  EMS had just arrived, and Jillian grabbed Meg from the car and bolted over to her wounded friend. “Blake!”

  One of the desk clerks sat next to him, holding a towel over his chest. “He’s still breathing, but I think his pulse is getting weaker.”

  Jillian pointed to the curb and said to Meg, “Sit there and don’t move. Got it?” Without a word, eyes wide, mouth trembling, Meg sat. Jillian squatted in front of her and softened her tone as she stroked Meg’s hair. “I’m not mad, baby. It’s all right. I’m going to get help for Uncle Blake, all right?”

  Meg nodded. “Hurry.”

  Jillian waved down one of the EMTs. “Over here.”

  She noticed Colton hovering as paramedics worked on Darwin. After she made sure Blake was getting the attention he needed, she motioned for Meg to join her.

  She marched to Darwin and shoved a palm against his wounded shoulder. He hollered and slammed back against the gurney. “That’s for scaring my daughter.” Colton grabbed her and pulled her back, but not before she got another punch in. Darwin hissed and writhed with her added agony and Colton looked like he wished he’d been the one to take the swing. Like he was thinking real hard about it.

  He refrained.

  Jillian asked, “What was so important that you were willing to help someone kill me? Kill people who didn’t even have anything to do with that night!”

  Elliott’s jaw firmed and he lasered her with intense green eyes. Hard as emeralds, no remorse. Jillian met him stare for stare with thoughts of what this man had put her and her friends through the last three months. He rasped, “You have no idea what you’ve done.” He winced and laid his head back against the mattress.

  “I’ll tell you what I’ve done,” Jillian hissed. “I’ve taken a killer off the streets and exposed at least two murders.” She narrowed her eyes, grateful Colton was giving her this moment. “Did you shoot the governor? Was it you on the gravel path that night? Did you hear them arguing and decide to get rid of the problem?”

  A genuine frown pulled his brows down and puzzlement showed in his eyes. “What?”

  “Did. You. Shoot. Him.”

  “No.”

  “Well, guess what? Frank Hoffman didn’t either.”

  Elliott froze, his entire being went still. He pushed the paramedic away, his wound apparently forgotten. “What are you talking about?”

  Colton stepped forward. “Governor Martin was shot in the back. If you didn’t shoot him, who else was there?”

  “Shot in the back?” Confusion rippled across his features.

  “What happened that night?”

  Jillian saw another set of paramedics whisk Blake to the next ambulance. She left Colton, keeping Meg next to her. The child stayed close, still traumatized over everything that had happened.

  Hunter and Katie pulled into the parking lot. Hunter looked stunned when he saw Elliott Darwin on the gurney. “Him?”

  “Him,” Jillian muttered. She looked at Meg. “Honey, sit in the policewoman’s car for a minute. I don’t need you disappearing again.”

  Again, without a word, Meg obeyed. Jillian frowned, worried at her daughter’s silent compliance. Then turned her attention back to Elliott and Colton.

  One of the paramedics waved Colton away, insisting they needed to get him to the hospital. Colton hopped in the back of the ambulance and Jillian knew she would have to wait for her answers.

  Relief filled her. It was over.

  She’d proven the governor was murdered. She’d done what she’d come back to do.

  Only one thing niggled at her.

  “Who shot him?” she murmured.

  Colton rode to the hospital with Elliott, determined to get whatever information out of the man that he could. Even while the paramedics monitored him, Colton questioned. “What were they arguing about that night?”

  “Drop it, Colton. What does it matter now?”

 
“What matters is the truth! I want the truth!”

  Elliott grimaced and Colton felt nothing but fury for the man who’d been part of a murder cover-up.

  “Tell me,” he hissed.

  Elliott stared at the roof of the ambulance for a good three minutes. Colton thought the man was just tuning him out. Then he spoke. “I guess I can answer my own question. It doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

  “No. It doesn’t. Why don’t you go for reduced charges? I’ll tell them you cooperated. But talk fast, it’s only a five-minute ride.”

  “Cooperated, huh?” A huge sigh slipped from the man. “I was in the Navy for twenty years, you know?”

  “I know.”

  “Your uncle was my best friend. Saved my life during one particularly nasty joint mission.”

  “Yeah.”

  “When we got out, he decided to go into politics and asked me to help him. He was born a politician. The people loved him. I was pushing him to think about the Oval Office.”

  “Until Jillian threw you a curve ball.”

  Elliott’s eyes hardened once again. “Jillian,” he spat. “All she had to do was stay gone.”

  “She tried that and you still went after her, remember?”

  “She was the one thing that could spoil it all.”

  “All this time you thought Frank shot the governor? Were you there that night?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you heard the argument and saw what happened?”

  “I heard the argument, but I . . . was being discreet. I stepped out of the office and let them have at it. Later, I heard the gunshot. I went running and found Frank clutching his chest with one hand and a gun with the other. The governor was dead.”

  “And Jillian?”

  “I saw her, but she didn’t see me.”

  “Where was my aunt? And Carmen? Surely they would have heard the shot.”

  “Everyone had left by this time. The clean-up crew wasn’t supposed to be there until the next morning. Your aunt came running and I managed to stop her and convince her it was just a car backfiring. She left and I started to help clean up the mess.”

  “What about Ian?”