Mike jumped out of the boat, strode over to her, and gripped her shoulders. “What is it, Mom, what happened?”
“She figured it out.” But she wasn’t looking at Mike, she was looking at his father, and his father had gone white. “She’s in the trunk.”
His father nodded calmly, as if he knew what she was talking about.
Mike stood openmouthed. “What the fuck is going on? Who’s in the trunk?”
“Don’t use that sort of language around your mother,” his dad snapped. And then, surreally, popped the trunk to reveal Holly Rudd, cop, lying twisted and unconscious inside.
Mike’s whole being rang with shock. He’d decided against telling Dryzek about Holly last night. Couldn’t bring himself to get a woman hurt, and here she was today, in his mother’s trunk. He pinched himself hard, but nothing changed. He looked at his mother. “What have you done?” His mom and dad were looking at one another and not at him. Whatever silent communication was going on between them didn’t include him.
“Take your mother inside. There’s been a misunderstanding, and I’m going to take care of it. Get everything straightened out.”
His mom shook so hard she started to sag at the knees. Mike caught her around the waist and helped her walk around the car and up the porch steps. When he turned around, his dad was already driving away. He looked at his mother who had tears smeared across her cheeks. He froze and swallowed an awful, rising dread. “What did he mean by take care of it?”
She tried to grab his hands when he released her. He ran for his truck. He hadn’t counted on her coming with him but didn’t have time to fight about it when she climbed in the passenger side.
Finn was in the dive shed with the sort of hangover that usually involved a bed, a jug of water, and a bottle of Tylenol, when Malone walked in.
“If you’ve come to have another go, give me a minute so I can finish this log sheet. Then you can have at it.”
“I can punch you?” Malone asked with a glint.
One side of Finn’s mouth curled up. “You can try.”
Malone grunted. “I’ve got instructions.”
Finn frowned. “For me?”
“For Holly.” Malone gave him a sly grin. “Me and the deputy commissioner play squash together occasionally.”
Ding. “He sent you to keep an eye on her.”
Malone snorted derisively. “I suck at bodyguard duty. Anyway, she’s supposed to be at the motel, but she’s not. And she’s not picking up her cell, so I figured maybe you knew where she was?” He raised his brows knowingly.
“I saw her last night.” At least he thought he had—he wasn’t one hundred percent certain it hadn’t been a dream. “She left before I woke up.”
Malone frowned. “I don’t like her being out there alone. Not with everything that’s going on.” His cell buzzed and he listened for a minute. Finn shoved the dive records aside.
“OK, I’ll be right there,” Malone said. “They picked up Remy Dryzek and Gordy Ferdinand last night, got enough out of Rob Fitzgerald to hold them. Also got some surveillance photos of the black truck that ran Holly off the road. There was a tarp in the back that didn’t belong to the owner. They reckon the attacker had a dirt bike ready for when he ditched the truck. Only distinguishing feature was the guy had a moustache, but that’s not exactly uncommon around here.”
“A lot of planning went into running her off the road.”
“We’re checking out all the people who have bikes in the area.”
“Not everyone registers them.”
Malone nodded, then held his gaze. “I was tough on your brother. I’m sorry.”
Finn shrugged. “I guess I’d have done the same in your shoes.”
“No diving today?”
Finn shook his head. “Finished up yesterday. The students have a lab this morning and then they’re done.”
Malone cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but, well, at least I’m not doing you.” He grinned evilly. Finn gave him the eye. “Anyway, you might want to go see your buddy, the professor. Deputy commissioner is going to exhume the bodies of his wife and child. They’re reopening the case.”
“Thanks to Holly?”
“Yeah.” Malone’s expression darkened. “So you don’t know where she might be?”
“No clue. Thom’s in lectures all morning.” He stood. “I’ll drive around, see if I can track her down.”
Malone handed over his phone number. “Call me if you find her. I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this. I’m gonna round up the troops.”
Finn nodded and locked up the shed. Then he ran to his truck and stepped on the gas.
The sound of an engine revving made Holly float to the surface. Her head felt full of rocks, and wherever she was lying was cramped and stank of cheap plastic carpeting and exhaust fumes. The car stopped. A door opened. She tried to move her legs, but they were dead weight. A wave of dread washed over her as the catch clicked open and she instinctively closed her eyes. Even with her mind disconnected from her body it was hard to pretend she was unconscious and unaware while at someone else’s mercy.
Light flooded the interior of the trunk, bright sunshine warm on her cheek. That felt wrong. The weather shouldn’t feel so nice when you were about to die.
Rough hands reached beneath her and yanked her out. Digging into her bruised flesh. She didn’t flinch. She was going to get an Oscar for this performance. Pity she’d be dead.
Her fingers started to tingle.
Maybe if she delayed long enough, she could get the drop on whoever had her slung over their shoulder. Chances were they had her weapons, but they’d overestimated the power of the drugs because she was definitely coming around, and she wasn’t the sort to roll over and die.
There was the sound of more car doors slamming and feet rushing through last year’s dead leaves. The cavalry?
“Go home.”
Not the cavalry.
“You can’t do this, Pop.” Mike Toben’s voice rang around the forest.
“There’s no other way, son.” Mike’s father, Grant Toben. Sonofafreakingbitch.
“We can run. Take that money of Dryzek’s, buy new identities and build a new life.” He caught up with them, and there were more noises in the background. More feet. Damn. It was a goddamn murder club.
“You said the money was counterfeit.”
“I don’t know for sure. Maybe Remy put that rumor around so no one would steal it. He’s going to a lot of trouble to get it back.”
Grant Toben shook his head. “I can’t risk it. I’m not dragging your mother around in a life on the run.”
He dropped her on the ground and the effort not to cry out was too much.
“She’s awake. Knock her out, Pop. Quick, before she recognizes you.”
Grant Toben gasped a tired laugh. “It’s a little late for that, son. Your mother drugged her and stuffed her in a trunk. I think she’s gonna remember us.”
She tried to open her eyes, but her lids wouldn’t cooperate. She rolled onto her hands and knees and waited for the world to settle, struggling to gain control of her body. “It was you who ran me off the road.” Her voice came out raw.
“No, I didn’t,” Mike insisted hotly. A wave of pity for him rose up inside her. He was about to lose everything he cared about.
“Not you, Mike.” She sat up on her knees, knowing it was too soon to stand. Her legs wouldn’t hold her yet, but the muscles were starting to come alive. She was in dense forest, no visual reference points. “I was talking to your dad.”
Mike gaped at his father. “Pop?”
Grant’s moustache twitched. “She was asking too many questions.”
They’d taken her weapons and radio, but missed her cell. She slipped her hand into her back pocket and fingered the keypad. Dialed what she hoped was 911 and prayed there was a cell tower within range.
“She’s a cop. It’s her job!”
“You don’t understand,
” Grant snapped.
“I understand,” Holly told him. “Mike, these people aren’t your real parents—”
“You lying bitch.” Grant pistol-whipped her across the side of the face and pain exploded. She went down like a cement slab.
“Jesus! Pop. Stop that.” Mike crouched beside her. Concern evident over his stark features. Features that, now she’d figured it out, were so like her own.
“We’ve got the same nose and mouth,” she whispered.
He touched her forehead as if searching for a fever. “You’re as crazy as he is.”
She dared Grant to hit her again as she voiced her theory. “You’re Bianca Edgefield’s son, Tommy Edgefield.”
Mike shook his head and rose back to his feet. “He died. Remember?” He turned to his mom. “What the hell did you give her?”
His mother refused to meet her gaze. The muscles in Grant’s jaw kept bunching as he tried to hide his reaction to her words. They didn’t deny it.
“We tested DNA from Gina’s bedding and found a match with someone in the system. A cop. Me.” Holly grasped his pant leg. “You were Gina’s lover, right?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Then he nodded.
So Mike was Gina’s lover, and given the physical similarities between her and Mike, they were almost definitely related. Nice to know her instincts were on target despite not being her father’s biological daughter—maybe it wasn’t all about DNA.
“You’re my half brother. We had the same mother. Different fathers.”
“What’s she talking about, Pop?” Mike broke her grip and backed away a couple of steps.
“She’s lying.” Grant spat on the ground. DNA, her cop brain registered. “Bianca Edgefield played Thomas Edgefield for a fool every chance she got. Could have been any number of people who killed her.”
“You had an affair with her…” said Holly. The missing piece snapped into place.
They’d had an affair. She’d gotten pregnant and told him the baby was his. When his wife’s baby died, he’d decided to take Bianca’s. Did Thomas know? “Must have freaked you out when your wife and your mistress both got knocked up at the same time. Or was it a thrill? Quite the stud back then, weren’t you?”
Grant aimed her Smith & Wesson at her, and earth spat just inches from her face. She rolled. Crap.
Anita Toben was standing just a few feet away along the narrow, twisting trail. “That’s a lie. She’s lying. Mike. Don’t you fall for it.” Her expression remained carefully blank.
“How else do you explain Mike being my brother, Anita? You killed our mother and stole him.”
“Someone else must have been sleeping with Gina Swartz besides my Mikey.” Anita’s expression grew mulish, arms tight across her chest as she half turned away from them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Grant killed Bianca after your baby died,” she insisted. Hadn’t Anita told her about the dream she’d had when Mike was dead? And then she’d woken up and he was fine? Because Grant had stolen her a new baby.
But she must have known. A mother knew, surely?
There were massive trees all around and dense undergrowth. Christ. No one would ever find her out here. Dead or alive. Stall, stall, stall.
The lines around Mike’s eyes crinkled as he tried to work through everything she was telling him.
“Grant ran me off the road because he was scared I was going to ask too many questions about Bianca’s death, stir up the past. He’s nothing but a coward. Doesn’t mind murdering innocent women, but doesn’t want to pay the price, do you?” She clutched her sides as she started to laugh. Hysteria probably wasn’t conducive to escape, but she couldn’t stop.
“I took no pleasure in killing Bianca. I did what I had to do to protect what’s mine.” His eyes grew icy and hard. “I should have killed you when you were too young to know better. Do I get thanks for sparing your life? No. I just get grief for protecting what’s rightfully mine. Well, this time I’m in no mood for mercy.” Grant raised the gun again, but Mike stepped in front of her.
“She said women, Pop. Who else did you kill?”
Finn headed to the grocery store and asked the shopkeeper if she’d seen Holly this morning.
“No.” She charged a kid for a quart of milk.
“There’s a rental car sitting outside the clinic, any idea who it belongs to?” The place was locked up. It was possible that car was Holly’s rental.
The woman shrugged. “Despite what everyone might think, I don’t constantly stare out the window keeping tabs on people.” She had a perfect view of the crossroads from here, though. “However,” she gave him a beady stare, “I did happen to see Anita heading home from that direction not long ago.”
Facts started to click into place. The Tobens had a dirt bike. Grant had a moustache. Finn remembered something else—Gina had said her new lover was a boy toy with no scruples. When it came to women, Mike Toben had no conscience.
But he had to be mistaken. They were nice people, weren’t they?
“Thanks.” He stopped at the hardware store and tried the handle despite the lack of lights and CLOSED sign on the door. No one answered, so he got in his truck and headed to the Toben family home. Anita’s car wasn’t there. Nor was Mike’s truck. Where could they be? Then he remembered the old track that led through the back of the Toben property. It was used more by ATVs than cars, but that’s the route he’d take if he was trying to avoid being seen. Hell, he had nothing else to go on.
He headed off, feeling like the biggest fool until he saw the cut off and tire tracks in the mud. Vehicles had definitely come this way recently. He called Holly’s cell and experienced a sharp kick of adrenaline when it went straight to voice mail. So he left a message. She might be in someone’s house having breakfast. She’d probably laugh at him and they’d have to figure out exactly how he was going to deal with the inherent dangers of her job. Assuming “I love you” was the same as “I want to get to know you and spend a little time with you”—fifty years should just about do it.
When he found her he was going to drag her to bed for a week. Do nothing but have sex and go diving and have more sex. Maybe eat and drink beer. And, OK, that was a pretty lame guy fantasy, but where the hell was she?
He wound down his window, scanning for cars pulled off into the bush. He eased on the brakes as a big black bear ambled in front of his truck. It turned and gave him an unimpressed sniff. Finn eyed the creature warily. Then a gunshot made them both startle, and every drop of blood exited his veins. The bear took off, and Finn caught sight of two cars up ahead on the track. Anita’s little sedan and Mike’s truck. He turned off his engine and slid quietly out the door.
He moved silently through the damp, impenetrable forest, reined in the desire for speed over stealth. What if Holly had been hurt? Every second mattered. But bursting on the scene without a clue wouldn’t save anyone, and instinctively he knew Holly was in danger.
He dialed Malone, belatedly remembering to fill him in on his location.
“Holly dialed nine-one-one about five minutes ago. We’re trying to narrow down her location,” Malone told him, sounding out of breath.
“I think I’ve got her.” He gave him directions and rang off, stuffed his phone in his pocket, creeping through the bush, peering around massive pine and spruce trees, climbing over downed cedars without a sound. Finally he spotted them. Holly on her knees and Grant Toben holding a gun, while Mike Toben wandered around, looking confused. Anita was there too.
Holly tried to stand up. He didn’t see any blood, thank god. Then Mike pulled a pistol from the back of his pants, and Finn’s blood froze.
Time was running out.
“She’s lying. I didn’t kill anyone.” Grant Toben sounded pissed because she hadn’t died like a good girl.
Holly laughed and struggled to her feet, staggering and woozy. If she could get close enough to Mike to grab that gun, she’d take the chance. O
therwise, she was going to plunge into the bushes and run through the trees where she could at least try to lose them. Legs and stomach were a bit wobbly still, so it was a slim chance. But better than waiting to catch a bullet between the eyes.
She thought about Finn, hoped he didn’t end up as desolate as his brother, and felt tears prick. She forced the thoughts away. Thinking about Finn wouldn’t save her right now. Being pessimistic wouldn’t help either. Focus.
“You already told me you killed Len Milbank, Pop.”
Good to know.
She watched Mike swallow convulsively. He stood between her and his father. She didn’t think Grant would shoot him, the boy they’d sacrificed so much for, but would Mike really defy his father? She doubted it.
“Stand aside, son. Let’s put an end to this.”
“You killed Gina too, didn’t you?”
“Gina was a tart who was going to get tired of you, run back to that asshole Carver, and open her flapping lips right along with her legs.”
“I loved her!” shouted Mike.
Grant looked startled for a moment and shifted his feet. “Now, son, you’re just upset—”
Mike flexed his hands into fists a split second before he lunged for his dad. They went down in a pile of arms and legs and spraying leaves. Mike’s gun went flying. She dived toward it and ended up flat on her face in the dirt.
Anita Toben leaned down and picked up the matte-black pistol and pointed it at her. “Don’t move.” Hands rock steady.
Holly finally accepted she was going to die. This woman had kept quiet while her husband committed atrocious acts. The cold, calculating gleam told her that killing someone who looked exactly like the woman who’d seduced her husband would be as simple as immunizing a baby.
“How did it feel when you found out he’d been unfaithful, Anita? That he’d had sex with other women? I bet she wasn’t the first, was she? How did it feel to know you weren’t good enough in the sack to keep him satisfied?”
“Shut. Up.” Anita’s hands shook violently. “It wasn’t like that. He wasn’t like that. She came sniffing after him like a bitch in heat. Wouldn’t leave him alone!” Saliva sprayed from her lips, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, but the gun didn’t waver.
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