Sinful Secrets

by Melissa Ohnoutka

  Blinking to clear the fireball of rage building behind his eyes, he scanned the debris field. No fucking way. “Do you know where they found the gun?”

  “I believe it was in the grass over there.”

  Ryker twisted his neck from side to side to relieve the tension and tried to process what this meant. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.” The man went back to work, his image blending into the background.

  Gritting his teeth, Ryker limped at record speed back to his truck and jumped in, speeding back to town. As he drove, his heart hammered beneath his ribcage.

  Keith? Alive?

  He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the action jarring his bad shoulder and making him wince in pain. The mere idea the asshole made it out at all infuriated him. But Keith alive and unaccounted for, that spiked his fury to dangerous levels.

  He eased up on the accelerator around a sharp curve, trying to put the pieces together. They didn’t fit. Even if Keith managed to escape the fire, he’d be too burned to function on his own. Hell, he and Jo Jo barely made it out as it was; the fire spread at an unnatural rate. Keith would have needed medical attention. Fast. So that meant he’d had help. And his only logical help was Denise or Frank. The infamous Detective Rayburn started to make sense. They were still working with Keith, trying to get the codes. Shit. Money was a great motivator.

  He had to get word to Jo Jo. Warn her before it was too late.

  Pushing the button for his hands free calling again, he recited her phone number from memory, expecting it to go to voicemail.

  After several rings a woman answered in a whisper. “Hello?”

  “Jo Jo, it’s me, Ryker.”

  Silence.

  He strained harder to hear. “Who’s this?”

  Nothing. No response.

  For a second he thought he’d lost the connection. Then a man’s agonizing groans sounded in the background.

  “Jo Jo, is that you?” His entire body stiff, he listened to the indecipherable sounds of a man giving orders.

  “You’re too late,” the woman finally said. “You’re always too late.”

  Speechless for a moment, he tried to place the voice. “Denise.” His chest constricted to the point it hurt, his heart lodging in his throat. “How did you get Jo Jo’s phone?”

  Her cruel high-pitched cackle echoed over the line, sending chills crawling over his scalp. The line went dead.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It was hours before the hospital got all the paperwork finalized for Joanna’s release. She’d almost walked out without following protocol several times, but she needed the blasted prescription for the pain medication. As a precaution, she’d told the nurse when she’d asked for the extra strength Tylenol, assuring the young woman she was not in any pain at the moment. Truth was, her head pounded like a set of bongo drums. But Joanna convinced herself it was nothing more than a caffeine headache. That’s exactly what it felt like. Skip a day without her caffeine fix, and she paid for it, days afterward. And she hadn’t had a soda since the one Ryker snuck in for her four days ago. The chocolates he’d managed to hide in his pockets on his late-night visits were a sweet and welcome gesture, but only briefly minimized the pounding, and the caffeine rush made sleep difficult.

  “Remember the doctor’s orders,” the nurse said handing her the prescription paper. “If you find yourself having to take more than two of these a day, he wants you to make an appointment to see him at his office. Numbers are on the bottom of the form.”

  “Got it.” Joanna took the clipboard the nurse turned toward her and signed on the dotted line.

  “That’s it. You’re good to go.” The nurse smiled sweetly and then turned and left the room.

  Sam snorted in the corner. “Good to go where?”

  “Not funny.” She took the brown paper bag Sam handed her. “What’s this?”

  “I picked up a disguise for you. We can’t have you walking out like that.” She pointed to Jo Jo’s current state of dress, her friend’s hands making wild wavy movements around her head, mimicking her unruly hospital bed hair.

  The jeans she wore were hers, but Joanna had a sneaking suspicion Sam bought the oversize Santa T-shirt from the hospital gift shop. Probably because she couldn’t get back into Joanna’s apartment with all the cops still hanging around.

  “The blond wig will cover that lovely hair of yours, and the pair of dark sunglasses will, well, they just seemed appropriate.” Sam laughed. “You know, all the movie stars do it. Now put the stuff on, and we’ll sneak out the back. I’ll call Andy and tell him to be waiting for us down the block a bit.”

  “Fine. Then let’s do this.” Joanna walked to the bathroom, piled her dark hair on top of her head, and slid the blond wig on. Funny. She might pass as Sam’s sister now.

  “You look fabulous, darling!” Sam crumpled up the brown bag and tossed it onto the bed. “Now the sunglasses.”

  As Joanna placed the glasses on her nose a flash went off. She looked up to find Sam’s camera staring back at her.

  “Samantha, this is not the time or the place.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’ll thank me for this picture some day when we’re old and gray. Now get a move on it, Blondie.” Her friend gently nudged her out the door and down the hallway to the elevator.

  “Wait. The nurse said she’d be back with a wheelchair. And my police escort is never going to let me leave without him.” She eyed the door where the cop should have been standing guard.

  “No way. I told him to take a short break, that I’d stay with you ‘til he returned.” She winked. “We need to ditch him, too. They’ll push you out the front and into the feeding frenzy. Trust me, this is better.”

  What on earth had Sam said to him? She’d been trying to get rid of him for days. Joanna sighed. Although her friend was probably right, she didn’t feel right about leaving without telling anyone, and getting this man into trouble for letting her out of his sight bothered her. She focused on the busy hallway instead of the guilt pounding in her head. Doctors, nurses, patients, even a few family members lingered about the nurse’s station, but no one gave them a second glance. Thankfully, there were no signs of reporters or police. Yet. Yeah, this was smarter. Her whereabouts would be secure this way. The fewer people who knew where she was the less chance Denise might find her. Made perfect sense. She’d call her dad when she got settled in and let him know she was safe. And maybe Ryker, too.

  “This way,” Sam took hold of her hand, and they slipped through the elevator door just before it closed.

  “We’ll get off on the second floor,” Sam said, taking Joanna’s bag. “Walk across the bridge to the parking garage where we’ll take the elevator down to the first floor, and then it’ll be about half a block to the car. I know it’s a lot of walking. You think you can make that?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. And I can carry my stuff. I’m not helpless.”

  “I know you can, girl. They don’t make them any tougher than you. But I’m playing it safe. You need to save your energy.” Her friend slung the bag over her shoulder and took up a combative stance, daring Joanna to try and retrieve it.

  Joanna shook her head, the tension in her neck easing as the elevator descended. Leaving the hospital was the first step in putting this madness all behind her and getting her life back. Now that she knew her father would be okay, she couldn’t get away fast enough. Even the elevator had the over-sanitized smell that turned her stomach.

  “Did you get a chance to pick up my cell phone?” she asked.

  “I snuck into your dad’s cottage and looked, but it wasn’t on the couch where you said you last saw it. And the cops didn’t give me time to search for it. I’m lucky I didn’t get arrested.” She rolled her eyes.

  The bell sounded, alerting them of their arrival on the second floor and Joanna let out a heavy sigh. Her cell was a link to the outside world. “I guess it’s still back at the house then
.”

  “That would be my guess, too. Here, you can use mine.” Sam sat Jo Jo’s bag down and started digging in her huge Gucci bag.

  “No, it’s okay. I just wanted to check my messages. See if I had any from clients that needed to be addressed. I hate to leave them hanging, and your internet and phone service is splotchy at the lake house. You ever going to try and have that fixed?”

  Sam snatched Jo Jo’s bag up and held the elevator door open with her arm so Joanna could pass. “Honestly, I kind of like not being able to be reached. Sometimes a person needs to disappear for a bit to recharge, you know? Think about life and the direction they’re headed.”

  “No, I don’t know.” Joanna laughed.

  “Your dad did always have you on a very short leash.”

  “Yeah, but I think I know why now.” Joanna swallowed hard to keep the knot working its way up her throat down.

  “I take it you two had a good visit.” At the garage elevator, Sam pushed the button and switched shoulders with Joanna’s bag.

  “We had several.”

  “That’s good.” She smiled and then stared at the ground. “When you’re ready to talk about Keith, I’m here for you. I can’t imagine the shit you’re going through right now.”

  “Thanks.” Joanna gulped back the lump now the size of a giant lemon drop and just as sour. “I just need more time to sort it all out myself.”

  Sam nodded. “You let me know the second your leg starts bothering you or you get too winded, and we’ll take a break. I can always call Andy and have him pick us up closer to the hospital. I was only trying to spare you the hassle of dealing with the media out front.”

  Her friend shook off a shiver as the elevator doors opened. No doubt Sam was trying to make sense out of Keith’s behavior as well. He’d used and manipulated her, too.

  “I’m good. I took the pain meds they gave me this morning, and I’m feeling much better. Which reminds me. We need to stop at a pharmacy and get these refilled before we head out to the lake.” She held up the prescription the doctor gave her.

  “There’s one on the corner by the supermarket.” Sam said, turning to look back over her shoulder at the front of the hospital as they made their way out of the garage. “Blood suckers.”

  A large crowd hovered around the hospital entrance like flesh-hungry vultures. Joanna pulled the wig down tighter on her head. So far, so good. The media appeared preoccupied with someone else, leaving their getaway free and clear.

  Ryker plowed through the pack of reporters like a mad bull. He’d alerted Turow of his findings from the warehouse, and the entire department was put on high alert. The last thing he wanted to do was disrupt Jo Jo’s recuperation, but he had little choice. She needed to know before they released her.

  “I said no comment.” He shoved an overzealous man with a microphone back as he made his way to the sliding glass doors. As he entered the elevator, he looked up to find the man hovering just outside.

  “I said, no comment.”

  But the reporter hurled question after question at him even as Ryker stared him down.

  “Is Senator Whalen hiding his nephew?”

  “Do you know how many were killed?”

  “Was McNamee’s daughter involved?”

  The last one really pissed him off. Jo Jo involved? He growled as he punched the elevator button with his finger, holding back the urge to flip the man off as the doors closed. She didn’t need any of this right now. After what her father told her about her mother, she needed time to process, to come to grips with the horrible reality that was her life. He had no idea how she’d take the news that Keith might still be alive.

  Picturing the fear in her eyes, he shook his head and wished there was another way, that he had more time to prepare her, but until they found Keith Coleman, or his body, Joanna McNamee was in danger. Ryker wasn’t so sure the target was Clint McNamee anymore. Hell, maybe for Keith it never really had been.

  His gut clenched.

  She was Keith’s target all along.

  It was clear as day now the SOB had been trying to isolate her from the world for years, just as she thought. A sick feeling in his gut told him blackmailing Denise was just a game. A sick and twisted game to get his hands on McNamee’s formula. A mere ploy to pass the time in Keith’s demented brain and fuel his extravagant lifestyle since, according to Ryker’s old friend with the HPD, Senator Whalen cut off his brother-in-law. No doubt to distance himself from Keith and his reckless behavior once the senator set his sights on the governor’s office, even though word around town was he’d promised his sister he’d take care of the boy. He’d probably pulled strings to close the case more for his own selfish benefit than trying to help Keith out. The Senator was already campaigning for re-election.

  The elevator reached the fourth floor and Ryker bolted out between the doors before they fully opened, scaring a nurse and two elderly people waiting on the other side. “Excuse, me. Sorry. Real Sorry.”

  He limped down the hallway toward Jo Jo’s room, trying to figure out what to say first.

  “Hey, how’s it going?”

  “Hey, Denise has your phone.”

  Or “Hey, Keith’s not dead.”

  Shit.

  As he closed the distance on her room, he took note that the officer was gone as an aide wheeled out a laundry cart.

  “How’s she doing today?” he asked the woman.

  “She?” The woman’s face crinkled in confusion. “Sorry, sir. I’m afraid I don’t know who occupied the room. I’m just doing cleaning up.”

  His heart dropped, as if trying to escape. “So Miss McNamee has checked out?”

  “Again, I don’t know, sir. Sorry.”

  “I thought the doctor said he’d keep her here ‘til after six. And she was supposed to have an armed escort with her.”

  “You could check with the nurse’s station. I’m sure they’d be able to help you.” She smiled.

  “Thank you. I’ll do that.” Ryker hurried back down the hallway.

  With Jo Jo’s father doing better, but not well enough to go home, he thought for sure she’d want to stick around. Damn. He didn’t like this. Not one bit. The mere idea she may have headed back to her place, or her dad’s, caused apprehension to rush through his veins. He’d seen the denial in her eyes when he’d said she couldn’t go home, but would she really try anyway? That’s the first place Keith would look.

  Why hadn’t the officer notified anyone she’d left? He’d better have one hell of an excuse.

  After talking to the floor nurse on duty, he learned Jo Jo had sped up her release with a little help from her friend Sam and then slipped out unnoticed. She told him the officer standing guard was fit to be tied when he learned that Jo Jo’s friend had tricked him. Figures. That girl was trouble with a capital T. His gut tightened. Without protection, Jo Jo had unknowingly placed herself in a shit load of danger.

  But at least he had a starting point.

  “Maybe the detective was able to find out where she was heading,” the nurse said just before answering the phone in front of her.

  The nurse’s comment stopped him cold.

  “What detective?”

  She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “Detective Rayburn. He just left a few minutes ago. If you hurry, you can catch him.” She looked past Ryker toward the elevators. “That’s him there.” She pointed to a man inside the elevator.

  Ryker’s gaze locked with the man’s.

  The asshole from the Pine Woods Hotel. The thief and Denise’s partner in crime.

  He pulled out his cell and hit speed dial for Turow’s number. He needed backup.

  He took off toward the elevator, knowing full well he’d never reach it in time. His leg punished him for the hurried pace, and he had to slow down or fall. He wasn’t certain he’d be able to get backup without help. Shit. This asshole back at the hospital asking questions about Jo Jo’s whereabouts proved his suspicions.

  Shit. Shit. Shi
t. Ryker’s head ached and his gut twisted into a knot the size of a grapefruit. Keith wanted Jo Jo, not her father. The formula may have been his way to get back at her father, pad his bank account, but Jo Jo was the ultimate goal. And the hotel clerk’s return to the hospital escalated his fears that Keith made it out alive and was still calling the shots.

  Pain radiated through his body with every step, but he ignored it. The elevator doors closed tight and it started its descent, causing a rush of foreboding to spike from his head to his toes.

  Damn it! He needed to find Jo Jo first. Ryker waited on the second elevator—he’d never be able to manage the stairs with his injuries. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long, but his chances of catching the man grew more and more improbable, due to stopping on practically every damn floor in between. Turow said he had several cars in the area, but backup would never make it in time, and he still hadn’t found the cop sent to give Jo Jo extra security.

  Come on! Come on!

  The minute the metal doors eased open with a jarring squeak, he exited like a man on fire. But he stopped short of bolting back into the crowd of reporters at the last second.

  He cut his eyes around the lobby hoping to catch a glimpse of the man. No such luck. He felt sure the piece of shit imposter hadn’t left by way of the front door. That would mean passing by the media and all their cameras the minute he hit the sidewalk. Too many witnesses. And live footage.

  So which way did the asshole go?

  The front lobby of the hospital wasn’t crowded. Only a few people loitered about the waiting room, reading newspapers or looking at their phones.

  Frustration bit at his insides. And then a bright red sign over the door to his left blinked with the word Exit. If he was looking to slip out unnoticed, that would be the way he’d go.

  Pulling out his cell phone, he limped the short distance to the door and dialed the direct number to the Bram sheriff’s office. “Trish,” he said, pushing open the heavy glass door. “This is Deputy—“