Deadly Deception

by Marissa Garner

  Fighting her conflicting emotions, she pulled away from the curb and headed for home. Not only was their dark history reason enough to avoid Sean, but she also had to handle the crisis with her mother. It didn’t help that he was the only person who seemed as worried as she was. Her teeth clenched. She could strangle her stepdad for his attitude. And although she understood Luke having to follow the law, he could’ve worked harder at persuading Hal to file a report. While he was taking the old man’s statement, the deputy should’ve made him feel like a jerk. Instead, he’d treated Hal politely even when he got on his soapbox with his anti-police rant. The situation reminded her of all the times Sean had put up with Hal’s crap.

  She often marveled that Luke and Sean were so similar they seemed like brothers, not just friends. With Luke’s sister, Karla, being Jessie’s BFF, things had gotten really awkward after Jessie and Sean broke up. Karla had been totally pissed when Luke didn’t tell Sean to go to hell. Although Luke had been sympathetic, sometimes it ticked her off also that he hadn’t completely severed his relationship with Sean. But she’d discovered over the years that she was grateful when Luke shared some tidbit of news about her ex-boyfriend. Like when Sean made detective. She shouldn’t have cared what was happening in Sean’s life, but she did.

  Sean’s reaction to Luke earlier flashed through her mind. She smiled. Serves him right.

  When she swung into the driveway, she blinked at the ancient Ford Taurus in her path. What was Nate doing here? Sean’s questions replayed in her mind. He’d obviously been exploring the idea of her brother as a possible suspect in her mother’s disappearance. But Sean couldn’t be right. As she’d said, Nate would never hurt Mom—or anyone else, for that matter. Sure, he had some emotional issues and a quick temper, but he’d never really hurt someone. She had to admit, though, he’d been in a few fights over the years that had landed him in serious trouble, but those were always provoked by others.

  The night closed in around her as she hurried from the car. The overhead fixture in the kitchen was the only light she could see in the house. Hopefully Nate hadn’t woken Hal. The men didn’t get along at all. But that hadn’t always been the case. When their mother first remarried, Hal had worked hard to fill the void left by their father’s death. In fact, Jessie had always been jealous of the close relationship between Hal and Nate when she was little. But something changed. She couldn’t remember exactly how old Nate was when his attitude took a nosedive, but soon afterward, her brother became a seriously troubled kid.

  She unlocked the kitchen door and stepped inside to find Nate slouched over a beer at the table.

  “Where ya been?” he slurred.

  Instead of answering his question, she asked one of her own. “What’re you doing here?”

  His head jerked up, and he gaped at her. “What? I’m such a lowlife now that I can’t come check on my own mother?” He shook his head back and forth in a wobbly rhythm. “She’s not here, ya know. I even peeked into the bedroom she shares with that asshole husband of hers.”

  Drawing a calming breath, Jessie took a beer from the fridge and sat down across from Nate. “We called and told you she was missing.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m not stupid, Jessie. I remember. But no one bothered to call me back to let me know if she’d been found.”

  She took a swig of beer to dampen her annoyance. “Sorry, but it’s been a crazy night. As you figured out, she’s still gone.”

  His bleary gaze zeroed in on her. “You look like shit.”

  She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Thanks. I feel like it, too.”

  A flicker of a smile passed across his grim face and then it was gone, replaced by an even grimmer expression. “Is that blood?”

  She glanced down at her sweatshirt. “Yeah.”

  “Fuck, Jessie, are you hurt?”

  “No, it’s not mine. I helped…someone with a nasty cut, and I must’ve gotten some on me,” she said as casually as possible.

  Nate studied her a moment and repeated his question. “Where ya been?”

  She sighed. “I was going to look for Mom at the coffee shop when I found the Buick abandoned on Wheaton. No sign of Mom. I called 911, and Luke Johnson showed up to investigate. Dad refused to make an official missing person report, but Luke had the car towed in case it’s needed later.” She stopped when she realized she didn’t have to explain about going out a second time and running into—literally—Sean Burke. She cringed inwardly. Why didn’t she want to reveal the incident to her brother?

  “Were there any clues about what happened?”

  “No, nothing.”

  He swallowed a long drink and belched.

  “Nate, you know you’re not supposed to drink alcohol with your meds.”

  “I’m not drinking ‘with’ my meds. I took them already—with water.” He sneered. “You sound just like Mom.”

  “Is drinking what you fought about this morning?”

  A muscle twitched in his cheek. “It’s none of your damn business, but no.”

  “Then what, Nate? Dad said Mom was real upset by the call.”

  “I know.” He hung his head. “I felt bad. I drove over this afternoon to apologize.”

  “You did? Dad said you hadn’t seen or talked to her since this morning.”

  “I…I didn’t. Her car wasn’t in the driveway or garage, so I knew she wasn’t home. I waited on the patio.”

  “Why didn’t you come inside?”

  “I figured Hal was home since the tractor was out of the barn and the place reeked of manure.”

  Jessie smiled. No wonder Dad was so tired if he’d spread manure and taken Callie to the creek. He worked really hard at being a good grandpa. “What time was it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe four-thirty or five. Mom’s usually home then. Thought I might hang around until you got home from work.”

  “And get a home-cooked meal?”

  Nate grinned. “Busted. Never hurts to eat decent food once in a while.”

  “No, it doesn’t. You should come over more often.”

  His smile disappeared. “Can’t.”

  She knew why, so she didn’t press the issue. “You never saw Mom walking up the road from Wheaton?”

  “Never saw anybody.”

  “Why weren’t you here when I got home?”

  His eyes narrowed. “What is this, an interrogation? You think I had something to do with Mom disappearing?”

  “Of course not. But you should expect to answer some questions for Luke if Mom doesn’t show up tonight.”

  Nate shoved his chair back so hard it fell over. “Luke thinks I did it? Great, just fucking great.” He reached the back door in long, angry strides.

  Jessie jumped up. “Wait, Nate. I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. Suspicion is written all over your face.” He opened the door, paused, and then turned back. “I didn’t do anything, but I bet I know who did.”

  * * *

  Despite hurting from head to toe, Sean paced his brother’s living room before dawn on Saturday. Situations like this exemplified what he loved and hated about being a detective. Putting together the clues in a case reminded him of working a puzzle, and the thrill of solving one couldn’t be beat. But he hated all the impediments and restraints. Obey the laws, mind the rules, follow the procedures. He envied the freedom his friend Jake Stone enjoyed in his security and PI practice.

  Sean poured another cup of coffee and stepped out onto the patio. He drew a deep breath of fresh, damp morning air and didn’t choke on smog. A coyote howled in the distance. A rooster crowed nearby. Damn, it was great to be out of LA.

  He sighed and let his mind wander to the subject that had kept him up most of the night. He really should keep his nose out of the Molly Freeman case. Hell, it wasn’t even a case since Hal had refused to file a report. Why was her husband being so stubborn? Obviously, Jess was convinced her mom was missing. And not voluntarily, as the old man claimed.
>
  Sean had to agree with Jess. Molly wouldn’t hide from her family for any reason, much less because of minor disagreements with her husband and son about money. Something was definitely wrong. And the longer they delayed looking for her, the less chance they had of finding her…alive.

  Sean’s fingers tightened around the mug. Last night with Jess had ended like shit. Me and my big mouth. Part of the time she’d actually seemed grateful for his interest in her mom’s situation, especially when he’d shown her the matching shoe prints. Of course, she’d also run him down with her car, which definitely wasn’t a sign of appreciation.

  He flexed his shoulders carefully. Damn, the car had done a job on his body. Body…hmmm. His dick twitched at the memory of Jess’s nipple dangling so close to his lips. If he hadn’t been lying in a ditch after being run over, he would’ve pulled her on top of him and…No, no, no, you idiot. Maybe eight years ago, but not last night. Why couldn’t he get it through his thick skull that Jess wasn’t his anymore? He hadn’t pined for her like this in LA. At least not in the past couple years. Proximity. Yeah, that was the problem. Being in Ramona was just too damn close for his libido.

  He rearranged the swelling under his boxers and headed back inside. Enough daydreaming about what couldn’t be. Time to get to work. Whether Lover Boy—or even Jess—wanted his help, he had to do what he could to find Molly…before it was too late.

  After dragging another buddy out of bed at an ungodly hour on a Saturday morning to drive him to pick up his truck, Sean stepped onto Jake Stone’s doorstep at 7:30 a.m. From its hilltop location in Valley Center, the property offered a commanding view of hundreds of massive boulders but no other houses. As Sean surveyed the area, the sense of being in a hidden fortress hit him. The idea certainly fit with the shadowy, secretive image of Jake Stone, former Navy SEAL and CIA operative. It was the “operative” job that intrigued Sean the most. When questioned, the cagey man refused to reveal anything. Sean’s research had also turned up nothing. And the CIA wouldn’t even acknowledge Jake had worked for them, of course. All of which left Sean with an uneasy feeling that he didn’t really know much about the man he’d first met barely a month ago.

  He stabbed the doorbell and waited. And waited. He punched it again. None of Jake’s vehicles were visible, but Angela’s BMW was parked in front of Sean’s F-150. He was just about to pound on the door when a voice came through the small speaker in the security console on the wall beside him.

  “Go away.”

  “Good morning, Stone. You, too, Angela.” He heard giggling in the background.

  “I’m busy, Burke. Go away.”

  Tilting his head up, Sean grinned at the tiny lens embedded at the top of the doorframe. “But you were ‘busy’ last night.”

  Jake snorted. “I’m ‘busy’ a lot.”

  “How does Angela feel about you being so ‘busy’?”

  “Oh, she feels good about it, believe me.” The sound of skin smacking skin came over the intercom. “See? She can’t keep her hands off my ass.”

  “Good morning, Sean,” Angela said. “I’ll buzz you in. Help yourself to coffee in the kitchen. We’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

  Jake laughed. “A minute? I better get ‘busy’ fast.”

  “Jake,” Angela squealed, and the intercom went silent.

  A sharp buzz told Sean she’d managed to unlock the door before Jake…whatever. Chuckling, he let himself inside. Those two deserved lots of enjoyable time together after what they’d been through with Angela’s case.

  Ten minutes later, Jake unlocked the door to his home office on the first floor of the huge house. As Sean walked past, Jake gave him a head-to-toe inspection. “Angela’s too polite to ask, but I’m not. What the hell happened to you? You get in a fight or run over by a Mack truck?”

  “A Camry,” Sean admitted.

  Jake hesitated, but when he realized Sean was serious, he bent over with a belly laugh. “Let me guess: Jessica Hargrove.”

  “It was an accident.”

  “You sure?”

  He flipped Jake the bird before setting his computer bag down on the desk.

  “You said you wanted to use both kinds of my research…tools, right?” Jake asked.

  “Well, yeah. You got a problem with that?”

  “No, but you might if anyone was ever able to trace what we’re going to do back to you…or me.”

  “Good point.”

  “We should work in my happy place and only on my computers.”

  “Your what?”

  “My happy place.” Jake picked up the remote for the large television hanging on the wall. He fiddled with the back, opened a small panel, and then pointed it at the built-in bookcase. The wood creaked softly as the whole piece of furniture slid to the right, revealing a vaultlike door. Jake punched several numbers on the keypad and indicator lights flashed. After he entered more numbers, the door responded with a whir and a loud click before swinging open a few inches.

  Sean’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. Just like in the movies.”

  “Not really. Mine’s better. I figure if you’re gonna pay through the nose to build a safe room, it should be the best possible.” He gestured with the remote for Sean to enter.

  “You’re not going to tase me with that thing, are you?”

  Jake gave him a warning look. “Not unless you interrupt me again when I’m ‘busy.’”

  “I hear ya. Not gonna happen.” Laughing, he held his arms over his head as he strolled into the room.

  While Jake secured the door behind them, Sean surveyed his surroundings. The “room” was the size of a large studio apartment. At one end, tables were covered with laptop computers, printers, monitors, and other equipment. What Sean guessed was a server sat in a corner. A bank of locked file and storage cabinets lined one wall. A tripod leaned against a padlocked gun rack, which held enough guns for a small army.

  Sean turned to the other end of the room. Furnishings included a king-sized bed, an armoire, a love seat, a recliner, and a hanging flat-panel TV. A well-equipped kitchenette occupied one wall. An open door revealed a bathroom with the addition of an unusual bathroom fixture: a rack containing two automatic rifles.

  “Expecting trouble, Stone?”

  “Always.”

  “Ever get the impression you attract trouble like a magnet?”

  Jake skewered him with a malevolent glare.

  After a nervous glance at the arsenal, Sean cleared his throat and dropped into a chair at one of the tables. “Let’s get to work.”

  “Agreed. First, some rules. Don’t sign into anything as yourself. I’ll give you usernames and passwords. Don’t change the settings on the computers. We don’t want to leave any trails. I’ve got my network set up so stuff bounces off servers all over the world. It would be damn near impossible for anyone to trace something back to this room or these computers, but I won’t risk it. Don’t engage. If there’s contact from the other end, tell me, and I’ll decide whether to continue or abort. Understand?”

  “Got it.”

  Jake nodded and tapped the laptop in front of Sean so the password prompt appeared.

  “The password today for this computer is Granite27, cap the G,” Jake said with a secretive smile.

  Sean wondered if the password was an inside joke. Jake Stone. Granite. Boulders as the primary landscaping. Must mean something.

  After entering the password, Sean stared at the mass of icons on the screen. He estimated a couple hundred folders with no obvious organization.

  “Open ‘Kitchen,’” Jake instructed him.

  Sean scanned the folders three times before finding it. “Have you ever considered alphabetizing these suckers?”

  “Why make it easy? Now ‘Recipes’ and then ‘Ingredients.’”

  Inside the Ingredients folder was a large Word document listing hundreds of food items, from ackee to zucchini. At least these were alphabetized, and they all appeared to be hyperlinks.

  �
�What the hell?” Sean murmured.

  “You probably want to start with ‘Dates,’ ‘Sea Salt,’ and ‘Figs,” Jake said, his fingers flying over his own keyboard. “Tell me what you’re eating, and I’ll give you the corresponding log-in.”

  Sean clicked on Figs and froze. “Holy shit. This is the—”

  “Don’t freak out on me, Burke. You said you wanted to use all my resources. Change your mind?”

  “Uh, no. I just don’t want to end up behind bars for hacking government networks. Cops don’t do well in prison.”

  Jake grunted. “Don’t like the idea of being someone’s bitch? Me neither. That’s the reason for all the security. Besides, technically, we aren’t hacking.”

  Sean turned an incredulous stare on him. “What the hell do you call it?”

  “Borrowing. These log-ins are for legitimate users. They just aren’t you and me.”

  “How did you get them?”

  “You don’t wanna know. Now quit whining and get to work.”

  After Jake got Sean onto several sites, twenty minutes passed with no sound except the clicking of keys.

  “I’ll be damned,” Jake muttered.

  “What?” Sean asked without interrupting his typing.

  “Nathaniel Freeman has quite a rap sheet.”

  “No shit?”

  Jake swiveled his chair around. “You didn’t know about this?”

  Sean stopped typing and faced him. “Nope. He was just a brooding loner back in the day. What’s he been tagged for?”

  “Lots of minor stuff. Nothing worse than some county jail time for punishment, though.”

  Jess’s words, Nate would never hurt Mom, came back to Sean. He frowned. “Anything violent?”

  “Couple of bar fights and one assault charge. It was dropped.” His gaze darted back to the screen. “That one’s troubling. He attacked his stepfather, but his parents didn’t want to press charges. The DA let it go because there were no other witnesses.”

  “Hmmm. That would’ve been Molly’s call, not Hal’s. He was a hard-ass, especially tough on Nate.”

  “In exchange for no charges, it looks like Nate agreed to a shrink eval,” Jake said.

  “Too bad we can’t see those medical records. Maybe the guy’s problems were more serious than people realized when he was younger.”