Sanctuary Breached WITSEC Town Series Book 3

by Lisa Phillips

  “She has to know she can’t hide from this.”

  “It’s how she deals. It’s how she deals with everything.”

  He took her hand and tugged her down beside him. “We have to convince her she can’t do that this time. Do you know what she took, what it is?”

  “We got as far as her admitting it’s some kind of weapon. Beyond that I don’t exactly know, but there were two suitcases in the back of her car.”

  “How long has she been here?”

  Beth shrugged with her mouth. “Three years.”

  “Long enough for her to believe if she buries her head in the sand it might all go away.” They shared a look. Sam said, “Why did your father want to bring it all out in the open now?”

  Her face twisted in a grimace. “Why else? Re-election. Making himself look like the big hero, but at the same time, if he didn’t win then he wasn’t going to pass on this guillotine to hang over the next president’s head.”

  “So does President Gunderson know about this, or did your father keep it from him?”

  Beth said, “I have no idea. I know Grant is hesitant to share everything, but he’s not doing himself any favors by doing that.”

  Sam blew out a breath. Politics was not his thing, and he’d never liked chess any time his Pop had tried to get him to play. Strategy, yes. Sacrificing the lesser for the greater good—the victory—was not what Sam was about.

  He needed to tell her that her mother might be alive. But if he did, she’d want to leave right away. Sam was keeping the possibility from her, just as she’d kept Remy’s involvement from him. He didn’t like the idea, but maybe it was better not to tell her just yet.

  Beth went to the closet, pulled on fitted yoga pants and a tank top, and zipped a jacket over it. So long as he could explain it when she found out, she would understand why he needed her focused now. Right?

  Sam got up while she put on her shoes. “I have to be in the office at six tonight.”

  “Night shift?”

  He nodded.

  “So you should be sleeping now, since you were up all night.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll take a nap later.”

  They walked to the gym, hand in hand. It was like living in a bubble of yesteryear. The radio exactly had one station, and it only played Hal’s selection of “classic” rock, which basically meant anything circa 1960-1979. Something Sam appreciated, but not all the time.

  He glanced at the mountains. It was easy—too easy—to forget they were under imminent threat. This town should be permanently battle ready. A few of them were, but most of the residents were way too complacent. They’d done their time, or they’d been through major trauma and didn’t wish to do anything except take a break from what had been their new life. To live now in peace where the threat was less…but not gone. It would never be gone.

  Beth trailed away to the room she’d danced in last time. A group of kids were gathered in there. It was just past eight, so school wasn’t in session yet.

  “It’s PE. She does it with them every week. When the weather’s nice they can go outside and run football, or soccer drills. Play softball, that kind of thing. The farm has an assault course with a lower level for the kids. In winter they congregate here, so she brings in different people each week. Martial arts, dance, yoga—” Tura chuckled. “Bunch of kids doing yoga, about the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. But they’re not bored.”

  Sam turned to him. “Sounds like she’s really settled in here.”

  “Not so much. Not if you look real close.” Tura’s eyes drifted from Beth to Sam. “If you watch, you’ll see she’s looking for something. Thought she might get it when you showed up, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

  “It takes her a while to get back in the rhythm of us.”

  “Then why aren’t you doing everything you can to focus on her, so she can get what she needs faster?”

  Tura was really giving him stick about this? “You know all that’s been going on.”

  “And you’re all alone, dealing with it by yourself?”

  Sam shook his head.

  “Your focus is her.”

  “Always has been.”

  “Then tell her that, and not when this is done. Now.” Tura’s eyes had darkened. “There is no time to wait, unless you want to risk never. And I don’t recommend that.”

  **

  “I’ll be back home soon, darlin’.” Senior Chief Tommy Locan looked out the hotel room window at the Denver skyline.

  “Okay, Dad.” Her voice was breathy. His baby, laid-up in a hospital. But he’d taken care of her. “Mom wants the phone.”

  Tommy’s stomach revolted against the cheeseburger he’d had for dinner.

  “I’m here.”

  He’d long-since given up all pretense that used to be between them. “I’m about to hang up. I’ll be back in town to see Olivia by next week. I trust you’ll be at work.”

  “Of course, darling.”

  It was sickening just how sweet she could be, when there was no affection or any real feeling below the surface. Or at least not much besides lingering hatred.

  His phone beeped. “I’ve got another call coming in.” He didn’t say “bye.” He simply hung up and took the other call. Private Number. “Yep?

  “I trust you are available.”

  Tommy gripped the curtain hard enough to pull it down. He’d agreed but not because he thought they’d actually have more for him to do. Hadn’t he already done enough?

  “I will take your silence as an affirmative. You are being forwarded directions. You may have your pick of teammates, but keep it to three. No more than four of you should enter the town. The identity of each target is included. They are to be eliminated, and the final target is to be returned to me along with the property that was stolen.”

  They wanted him to kill how many more people, and then do more on top of that? “This won’t be cheap.”

  “I didn’t expect that to be the case. Your fee for the first job will be applicable to each confirmed result on this job.”

  Tommy felt his eyebrows lift. That was a whole lot of money. He’d be able to get out of this monkey suit, out of the limelight, and disappear to somewhere with plenty of bikinis and mai-tai’s. Somewhere he wouldn’t have to pretend he didn’t hate his wife. The funeral wouldn’t be long in coming, and Tommy wanted to spend his grief somewhere warm with the sand between his toes.

  He stared out the window. “I know some people.”

  “Good. I expect a call when it’s done.”

  His phone beeped. “Fine.” When he hung up, he read the email that had come through and downloaded the pictures of each target. A US Marshal. The president’s daughter. A woman he didn’t know, some doctor of something…

  And Sam Myerson.

  Chapter 16

  Sam sat beside John in the basement of the library. It was like a security office in a high-rise with camera feeds of all the public areas in town. Recording machines whirred, like in some kind of seventies server-room. Sam looked at John, who burst out laughing. “I know, right? It’s like a time machine.”

  “I’m not sure what to do with this. This is all Hal’s domain?”

  John nodded. “The bugs in your house were not placed there by us. So it’s either fake Abigail, or someone else working with or for her.”

  Sam turned to the computer screen and the live feed from the sheriff’s office. Abigail and Shadrach hadn’t said one word to each other all day.

  Bolton Farrera had his boots stacked one on the other on top of Sam’s desk. His black hat was pulled low over his face. “What is that guy’s deal? He’s been nothing but stand-offish with me since I got here.” Sam wasn’t going to mention Bolton knowing where Shadrach was. Maybe it was just a bluff, but he was still gathering evidence on the man.

  “Bolton’s just Bolton. If you’re in his crew, he’s all about friendship and brotherly respect. Took me a while to crack that, but I figure I won him over.” John grinne
d. “If you’re here long enough, it’s worth a try. But no one expected his health problems, probably least of all Bolton, given he never said anything—not even to Matthias who is closest to him. Bolton has some kind of inoperable spine thing from an old injury. Remy said he shouldn’t risk further injury because it would mean he’d be confined to a wheelchair. Bolton told me to leave it alone, which I guess means he wants to do what he wants without anyone debating his choices.”

  “Playing with fire.”

  “That would be a safe assessment of the situation.”

  “I’ve met a lot of guys like that. Something to prove, mostly to themselves.”

  John nodded. “Former DEA agent. He took down some serious internal corruption, but I get the feeling it cost him more than just the life he had. Or his safety. It’s like he’s closeted himself away here. Like Sanctuary is some kind of self-imposed prison…” John’s voice trailed off. “Heads up.” He pointed at the screen to his right.

  Nadia Marie strode down the street to the sheriff’s office.

  “No dog with her.”

  “Pat’s watching Dauntless, so maybe there’s hope he’ll quit asking me for a dog.”

  Sam grinned. “Don’t bet on it.”

  Nadia Marie let herself in the sheriff’s office.

  “Didn’t you tell her to stay away?”

  John nodded. “But I needed her for this. Not because she’s Shadrach’s sister. Only so Abigail would believe it. No one else can occupy Bolton’s attention like Nadia. As much as he wishes it wasn’t the case.”

  Sure enough, the rancher hopped up from his chair, and he and Nadia spoke. As far as Sam could see, Nadia didn’t look once at her brother. Although Shadrach had turned to them. But that could be anything. As far as Abigail was concerned, Nadia Marie had thoroughly dismissed her brother.

  Bolton motioned to the door. “Let’s talk outside.” He led her out, but positioned her back to the window so he could see inside. Their lips moved as they conversed, but the feed came from inside the sheriff’s office.

  “I don’t think I need to tell you what type of man that is.” The woman impersonating his mother smirked. Sam kept his eyes on the screen. “I’m surprised the sheriff trusts him after he rolled over on everyone he worked with. Not exactly an upstanding man to let all that corruption go on for so long.”

  Shadrach didn’t move. His eyes were on his sister.

  Sam turned to John. “You planned this?”

  The sheriff shrugged. “Shadrach and Abigail needed the chance to talk, just like you gave them last night. Then, depending on their plan and what Shadrach does with it, we may need to give them the opportunity to break out. And it doesn’t hurt for Bolton to have a conversation with Nadia. Something good might come from it.”

  Matchmaking? Sam tipped his head to the side. “Does your brother know you run Sanctuary like this?”

  “Grant isn’t here.” John shrugged. “And Grant kept important information from me.”

  “So what he doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt him?”

  “No, it’ll likely hurt a lot. But being the sheriff here isn’t about upholding the law and nothing else. It’s about serving these people, keeping them safe. Sometimes that means keeping them safe from themselves.” John shrugged. “There’s no manual for this.”

  “So you’re just winging it?”

  “More like a careful, fluid strategy.”

  Sam shook his head and looked back at the screen and the jail cell. Shadrach stretched his legs. He seemed to be doing okay being cooped up. Still, the man wasn’t likely to show weakness in front of him or John, and definitely not in front of Abigail.

  The woman in question’s eyes were on the door to the cell. She got up and pulled on the bars. The lock didn’t give. Like it would?

  “I don’t suppose you have a way to get us out of here?”

  Shadrach stretched to his full height. It was probably imposing to the smaller woman, but she didn’t cower. The man looked little better than a hobo, but Sam had made sure he’d eaten well. His eyes hadn’t lightened once. This was work mode, but what was the sniper planning now? His gun was locked away.

  Shadrach strode to the cell door and gripped the bars. Abigail’s face changed behind his back, grimacing in delight. He was giving her what she wanted—a man itching to get out of there, a man close to the end of his rope. She was eating it up.

  “What if I did? They’d be on us before we made it up the hill. I doubt you’d be able to hike out of here in those shoes.” Shadrach shot a pointed look at her feet. “You can’t make a move without a solid plan. Or you shouldn’t, but then you wouldn’t be here with no way out. Caught.”

  Abigail bristled. “I hardly think that’s the point.”

  “You still think you’re going to break free of this? That whoever’s out there is going to swoop in and pull you, pay you, and you’ll waltz away free? Life isn’t that clean. I’d think someone of your years would have learned that.”

  “Insults?” She scoffed. “How bourgeoisie.”

  Shadrach didn’t react.

  “What about a helicopter? Would that satisfy you?”

  He perked up a fraction. “You can get us a helicopter out of here?”

  Sam glanced at John, who shrugged and opened his mouth to speak. His satellite phone rang. He got up and walked away from the table.

  Sam looked back at the screen just as Abigail said, “If I can get to my phone, I can get us a ride out of here. Yes, by helicopter. There’s more, but you probably aren’t interested in earning some cash to fund the rest of your life.”

  Shadrach took the bait. “And if I need folding money to get on with things?”

  “We could kill Beth and Sam—John, too. That might yield us a bonus. Who knows how many other high profile targets live in this town. I’ll have to put out feelers.”

  “That will take longer.”

  “No one has to know.” Abigail smiled, and Sam supposed it was meant to appear sweet and innocent.

  “I don’t like delays.”

  “Do you like clean, fast work and big results?”

  “Why do you think I became a sniper?” Shadrach folded his arms. “If I can get my gun back, they won’t know what hit them.”

  Sam wished he knew what was going on in the man’s head. He was so here and there, and then somewhere else, that Abigail had to be wary. Wild card was right. His first assessment had been that Shadrach might be a valuable asset to this operation. Then again, he could go off and ruin everything for all of them.

  Sam could’ve nailed with accuracy where the man’s loyalty lay, but the president was dead now. His spotter was dead. Shad was all alone, and Sam wanted to pull him into the fold, but this had to be played out. Sam operated best with a small team. Shadrach would be more used to a man-to-man job, not six guys. Him and his spotter. Radio silence until the mission was complete.

  Abigail glanced once to the window where Bolton and Nadia were still talking. “It’s set then. You take them out, I call for the helicopter, and we’re free and clear of this prison. And I don’t mean the cell, I mean this whole town.”

  “That would be good.” Shadrach’s attention turned to the window. “I’m ready to get out of here.”

  Abigail eyed the window. “It’s not like she needs you. Not with a man like that to take care of her. What does she need with an overbearing brother when she has a bad boy to jazz up her life?”

  He turned to Abigail. “Excuse me?”

  She shifted. Nerves. “I may have overstepped.”

  “You think?” Shadrach strode to the cot and slumped down on it.

  John stopped behind Sam’s chair. “Ben’s in the hospital. Daire is out, minor injuries. They found your mom. She’s unconscious but receiving medical treatment. It looks promising, though.”

  “Some good news.”

  John nodded. “Yes. When she wakes, hopefully she can tell us more about who took her, even about the syndicate.”

  Sa
m eyed the sheriff. “And Grant?”

  John rolled his eyes. “My brother.” He didn’t add anything about that. Then he said, “I asked about Senior Chief Locan. He’s apparently ‘privately recuperating.’”

  “Whatever that means.”

  John clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s your deal. But if he makes a move, we’ll know.”

  Sam nodded. “Abigail and Shadrach are going to make a break for it.”

  “Did you switch out Shad’s ammo with the blanks I got?”

  “Sure did.”

  They hadn’t told the sniper. That was Sam’s idea. John agreed the trust between them was tentative. And if Shadrach was going to even pretend to shoot Beth, then Sam didn’t want live rounds anywhere near that. He couldn’t risk it.

  “I want that woman out of town.”

  John sat. “It’s Thursday. Earliest we could manage that is Monday morning’s transport. The military won’t send anyone before then unless the sky is falling.”

  **

  Sam let himself into the Meeting House. It seemed like half the town had congregated inside. John waved him over, but Sam caught Beth’s gaze. He went to her side, gave her shoulders a squeeze, and kissed her forehead. “Hal okay?”

  She nodded. “He’s home resting. Though he probably wants to be back here helping out.”

  Sam shared her smile and then looked at John, who glanced at the gathered group. Remy, Nadia Marie. Bolton, with folded arms, stood beside Matthias, who had Frannie tucked against his side. What the bakery owner was doing here, Sam didn’t know, but it did seem like wherever Matthias was, Frannie would be there, too. And vice versa. Sonny, Louis, and Michael were positioned around Frannie, an arms-length away, like bodyguards. Even Dan Walden, the farmer, was there. The man had led worship and had done the teaching at church on Sunday. But he didn’t look like he was there under protest instead of doing something he deemed more important.

  Dan nodded to him.

  John squared his shoulders. “Okay, people. Listen up.”

  Despite the chairs littered around the otherwise empty room, no one sat down.