Deceived

by Julie Anne Lindsey

“Yes, sir. We’ll head home. I’ll keep her there until you call.”

  “What’s going on between you and my daughter?” Dad’s tone was harsh. I stepped back farther into the hall. “Your family’s always been professional. How is it you’ve become involved with Gabriella? What’s your family have to say about this? Your dad seemed to think you’d have all the answers. Then I came to meet you at the airport and found you kissing her.”

  The edge in his voice made me sweat. It was unimaginably hot in Texas.

  There was a very long pause. So long, in fact, that I had to peek back to see if Nicholas had climbed out the window. The two men were having another stare-down.

  “I love her, sir.”

  My head swam. I’m pretty sure my heart stopped. I quit breathing.

  “Excuse me?”

  I peeked again.

  Dad gripped his desk. “How do you expect to protect her if you’re involved like this?”

  I pulled my head back, and he pounded a fist against his desk. I shuddered.

  “Are you crazy or just suffering from an extremely low IQ? That’s my daughter out there.” His voice rose, and suddenly I had no idea how I had ever believed my dad was an insurance adjuster.

  “My only daughter, my only family, my only reason to get up every morning, and you’re risking her life. You do realize that. You’re going to get her killed because every single minute you spend thinking about your feelings is a moment you aren’t guarding her. In case you haven’t noticed, son, she needs a protector, not a boyfriend.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  My heart dissolved at his agreement. Ice filled my veins. My cheeks burned.

  “I know this, sir. I’ve discussed it at length with my father and grandfather. It’s a difficult position, one I know you’re well acquainted with, but I cannot reassign her because I cannot leave her.”

  There was a tiny crash, like a pencil hitting the wall, and then some low murmuring.

  “If you put her in danger … ” Dad’s voice choked off mid-threat.

  Nicholas cut in. “I will not fail her, sir. I will not.” The conviction in his voice was so strong that he could have promised anything and I would’ve believed him.

  Dad huffed and swore. I bit my lip, waiting. My heartbeat pounded in my throat.

  “I love her, too.” Dad’s voice was barely a whisper.

  “I know, sir.”

  I held my breath during the long pause, afraid I’d miss what he said next.

  “When you’re attached, everything’s more complicated. Your thoughts are divided. Your reaction time’s hindered while you weigh the added possibilities and wonder how your response will impact her. How will your attachment impact her? How do you know this isn’t your undoing? How can I know you’ll keep her safe?”

  “Because I would give my life for hers.”

  Dad sighed. His desk chair squeaked. “Don’t let her down, Austin.”

  “No, sir.”

  My mouth fell open. My eyes filled with tears. Nicholas noticed me looking and slipped out.

  “Can I help you for a while?” He motioned toward the kitchen.

  “I’m okay,” I lied, unless okay meant terrified and thrilled and crazy.

  “Come on. I know my way around a kitchen. Let me help. Your dad won’t mind.”

  I smiled because I’d heard it all firsthand. “You can go back in there, you know.”

  “Uh-uh.” He waved a finger at me. “You’re my responsibility. There’s nothing I can do in there that they aren’t already doing. This sweet-potato casserole isn’t going to bake itself.”

  I appreciated the company. I’d adjusted quickly to not being alone. Any excuse to be with Nicholas was a good one.

  We worked on the trimmings for a while and then it was finally time. Thanksgiving in Dallas. I took a mental snapshot for later.

  My dad closed his eyes for the standard Thanksgiving prayer, but it wasn’t the same. Normally, the prayer was dry and predictable. “Thank you for the food, for the time off work to be with Gabriella, etc.” Thanksgiving in Dallas was full of surprises.

  “Father,” Dad began in a small voice. “Thank you for my daughter. Thank you for keeping her safe all of these years and for the marvelous future I know You have planned for her. I should’ve done many things differently.”

  My dad wiped his face. “Thank you,” he choked, “for her precious mother and every single day I had with her.”

  There was a long pause. My eyes stung with emotion. My dad was praying, for me.

  “Thank you for the Austin family. You put them in place long ago, long before I could’ve known the role they’d play today. But, You knew. Give this young man the wisdom and strength he needs to protect my little girl.” One more pause had me choking back a decade of tears. “For today, bless this food and the hands that prepared it. Amen.”

  That prayer contained more emotion than I’d heard from my father in years. Being so guarded and feeling so guilty must’ve been difficult for him. Maybe guarded and guilty was another level we could connect on. I dabbed my napkin at my eyes and looked to see what effect the words had had on Nicholas.

  Nicholas only winked at me and added a hearty, “Amen.”

  They must’ve agreed to separate the case from Thanksgiving because no one mentioned the Reaper. He didn’t belong at our dinner table. Everything I needed sat in front of me. After dinner, Dad helped with the dishes.

  “Well,” I said. “Spill.”

  Dad looked at Nicholas first and then me. Dinner was over. Time to get down to business.

  “They’ve linked him to the Wade family in Grosse Pointe, Michigan.”

  They told me this was an affluent community in the Snow Belt.

  Using his name, Nicholas’s team found the house near Francine Frances where Miles Thomas Wade had stayed. They couldn’t find any evidence to suggest he remained. To the contrary, they were certain he’d gone. They just didn’t know where. They guessed Miles had left abruptly because the apartment was in disarray. According to Jim, he had an ashtray full of cigarette butts to match the one found on the school grounds, and his fingerprints were everywhere.

  The next morning, while everyone else in America brawled for bargains, I rode to the airport. These past few weeks had given me a better idea of what my dad’s life had been like. I had always assumed he liked to travel. There was no way that was possible. He had it rough, especially during the holidays. While we headed back to Maryland, Dad and a few agents went up to Michigan for a visit. Traffic, air or otherwise, was horrendous.

  “Take care of my baby.” Dad squeezed my cheeks in his hands. “You’re guarding my heart, son.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dad kissed my head and shook Nicholas’s hand. They exchanged a long, meaningful look before breaking apart. Dad let me go with the only man to ever proclaim his love for me. A twenty-two-year-old U.S. Marshal. How had I ever believed my life was boring?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I was back in my room in Maryland when we got the next update.

  “Elle, are you up?” Nicholas’s voice came on the heels of a knock against my door.

  “Come in.” I stood to let him in, but he met me halfway. He had his hand extended before him. Phone in one hand, he sat on the bed.

  “Okay, go ahead, Jim. Elle’s here now.”

  Jim’s voice came through the little speaker loud and clear. “Federal agents met with Mr. Thomas Wade in Michigan this afternoon. No sign of his son. I thought you might like an update.”

  “Yes, thank you.” I was desperate to hear that my father was okay and we were closer to finding this monster.

  “Well, Thomas Wade is in his late seventies, seventy-seven to be exact. He’s the retired dean of a prep school in Grosse Pointe. He’s not in great health, and he’s in agreement that his son is a likely candidate for this behavior. The story he told your father went like this … ”

  Jim began at the beginning, when Miles was young. “Thomas Wa
de had an affair with a student from his school. His wife died the same year this information came to light. Mr. Wade married the girl after his wife’s death. She later went missing. He refused to date again, certain that Miles had had a hand in his second wife’s disappearance. He and Miles spent some very uncomfortable years together until Miles left for college.”

  “Wow. So, there’s a link to a private school? That’s where Dad thought that I should spend my senior year.” Astonished, I looked at Nicholas. Irony at its finest.

  Nicholas looked aggravated. “Yeah, and assuming he saw you with me, if he knew I wasn’t a student, no wonder he had another snap.” Nicholas pointed out the elephant I’d missed.

  Dumb luck. He must’ve seen the whole thing replaying—his mother’s death, his father’s indiscretion, and the girl ruining his life. There I was running from him, never knowing who he was, and I had still managed to play out the exact worst scenario right before his sick, watchful eyes.

  “Mr. Wade insisted that his son seek counseling after his mother’s death. There were extensive notes at the practice where he was seen. We’ve sent them to you.”

  Nicholas logged into his e-mail and turned the screen between us so we could read together. The notes painted an ominous picture.

  “Until he was twelve, he lived with both his parents. His parents were from well-to-do backgrounds, and his mother stayed at home while his father acted as dean at a local private school.

  “His mother rarely remained at their home, however. She spent her days at social engagements or the spa. In his perception, Mrs. Wade had rare need of Miles’s company and spoke to him only as was required by etiquette.

  “On the other hand, Mrs. Wade expressed concern over her son’s behavior while he was very young. She described his proclivity for dissecting things found on their property. Her husband dismissed her, saying boys were curious. She brought Miles to a counselor for a handful of sessions with no results. Miles was young. The counselor didn’t get much response from him.

  “A few years later his mother found him with her missing cat. She’d sought the cat for several days before confronting her son directly. The cat, once a treasured pet, was slit up the abdomen. Still alive. Miles claimed he had found him that way, but his mother believed he held the cat for several days before carving into it. After that, she pulled away from Miles completely. When Mr. Wade continued to make excuses for their son’s behavior, she spent as much time as possible in their summer home, traveling, or otherwise avoiding the child.

  “Miles’s father was another story. He was dean of the private high school, where Miles later enrolled. Miles openly begrudged his father’s long hours, claiming he spent barely three hours annually in his father’s presence, and he hated him for that.

  “He and his father had a turbulent relationship at best. Miles was perpetually in trouble, and Mr. Wade stayed busy brooming it under the rug. While Miles was enrolled in Mr. Wade’s high school, there were a number of complaints by his classmates about Miles’s behavior outside of class. He was known for his sexual aggression. The reports were stanched because the incidents didn’t happen on school property. The students didn’t file reports with local authorities.

  “Miles’s mother became ill during his freshman year and moved home for the duration of her illness.

  “A few months later, his father asked his mother for a divorce despite her dwindling health. He professed his love for a student from Miles’s school, as if it were a thing to be proud of instead of the final nail in his wife’s coffin. He announced that the affair with the girl had gone on for more than a year. She’d finally reached her eighteenth birthday, and he wanted to leave his wife and marry the girl. Miles’s new stepmother would be barely more than four years his senior.

  “Following his mother’s funeral, his father married the girl, but she went missing during Miles’s senior year of high school. Police investigated Mr. Wade and searched the home and the couple’s other properties. Her body wasn’t recovered, but they confirmed her pregnancy through medical records. A pregnancy that the family tennis pro, Tim Echolls, claimed was the result of their relationship. A journal found with the missing woman’s things outlined a penchant for multiple lovers, included rants about her husband’s preoccupation with work, and detailed her numerous sexual exploits and rebellions, including a sexual relationship with Miles.”

  My eyes stretched wide as I finished reading. My cheeks burned with this information. Despite the disturbing images floating in my mind, I wanted more, wished there was a page to turn to hear how it ended, but we all knew.

  I jumped at the voice on the other side of the phone. I forgot he waited while we read. Now we were caught up.

  “We believe the stepmother was Miles’s first murder, though the body has never been recovered. It’s not uncommon for someone like him to hone his M.O. After graduation Miles bounced from college to college, enrolling and dropping out until Mr. Wade got tired of his son’s shenanigans and stopped paying for his lifestyle. Unfortunately, Miles had a trust fund. His father’s position didn’t change Miles’s ability to move around the country. Father and son are estranged. Miles hasn’t been home in over a decade.”

  “Did his mom’s death push him over the edge?” Disbelief colored my words. I had lost my mom. She was torn from my life at a much younger age than fourteen, and I never hurt anyone.

  “No. We have multiple complaints from childhood neighbors about pets going missing. Accusations from a schoolmate that a young Miles fed antifreeze to a local puppy. Records show that the fire department made a number of trips to the Wade home in Miles’s formative years as well. The details surrounding the cases weren’t available, but I think if we find a fireman from that ladder, we’ll hear that the fires weren’t all accidents.”

  “So, do we know his whereabouts during all that time?” Nicholas asked.

  “Yes.” Jim’s voice dropped a bit. “His father gave us a list of all the schools he attended. We called the schools and got his academic records. That helped us set up a timeline for him. I don’t think any of us was surprised to see that each of the Reaper murders happened in cities where he attended college, during the same time he was there. When the prosecution adds that information to the DNA on the cigarettes, found on the school grounds and at his apartment, it’ll be easy to bring him in. We expect his fingerprints will match some partial prints found in the first victims’ apartments. We’re building our case around the clock. After fourteen years, Elle, we have what we need to find him. Thank you.”

  Me? I did nothing, unless being oblivious counted.

  “What about Elle?” Nicholas asked.

  How could I be the first question he had after everything Jim had told us? I had a dozen questions.

  “We think she should stay in D.C. Pick a safe location. Change her name. Change her look. Stay with her. We need to pull her deep under cover. She needs to disappear. He’s already mad, and we’re about to tip him over.”

  “What about you guys and my dad?” I didn’t want to think about what my new look would be.

  “We’re preparing to hold a press conference tomorrow. Agent Smith’s planning to do it exactly as he did twelve years ago. Only this time, we have a name and a face to broadcast.”

  “What will he do?” Hadn’t the last press conference infuriated him, sent him straight for my family and resulted in my mother’s death? Nicholas stifled a laugh, probably because I had monopolized the exchange. I’d lost all self-control. The questions fell out of me.

  “We fully expect to provoke him,” Jim stated with zeal. “For that reason, we want to move you immediately. Your dad will be under twenty-four-hour surveillance as well. We’re hoping Miles will slip up, see red, and get caught. Now, we wait.”

  The look on my face must’ve been priceless. Nicholas took Jim off of speaker. They spoke privately for a few minutes while I processed.

  He hung up. “They’re setting up a tip line, and they’ll keep us posted.”r />
  “What did he mean about the fingerprints? I thought he never left any evidence?”

  “He killed for years Elle. The early murders were farther apart. He spent time in their apartments instead of taking them directly to a second location, and he didn’t remove their nails or fingerprints. By the time the FBI linked the newer, fast-coming murders with the older, sparser ones, evidence was lost or damaged. However, there were some partial prints on a bedroom door they never matched with anyone they could link to the victim. Same thing in two other early cases. It’s small, but it’s something. You’d be surprised what our team can pull together from a thread left on the carpet.” He squeezed my hand.

  “He’ll be enraged after the press conference.” I didn’t want to lose my dad. My chest tightened with fear, even while seated on the crisp white lace of my fairy tale. Everything in sight was lovely. Everything beyond my sight was death.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Sunlight swirled in through the aromas of vanilla and cinnamon overhead. The clock on the nightstand read 7:00. Last time I’d peeked, it was after six. Mr. Austin knocked at my door.

  “Care if I come in?”

  “No. Of course not. Come in.” I sat up, pulling the comforter around me.

  “So, I hear today’s the big day. Nicholas and his mother are out preparing for your makeover.” He carried a tray in one hand with coffee service for two. I lifted one cup to my lips.

  “Ugh.” I rolled my eyes and sucked down the coffee. “Thank you.”

  “We’d do it for anyone.” He caught my eye.

  “I believe that. That wasn’t what I meant, though.”

  “What do you mean, Elle?”

  My lips rolled in over my teeth. “For protecting us all those years. For getting Dad and me this far.” I pulled in a long breath. “For Nicholas. You’ve done so much more than I could ever really thank you for, I suppose.” To me, Nicholas represented his family. Some had to overcome their family issues. His wasn’t one of those. This family produced incredible, kind, loving, honorable people like Nicholas. I would be forever indebted.