Ending Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 3)

by Vickie McKeehan

  “A seven-point-five? Is that all? On the Richter scale that might be a full magnitude earthquake. I could do better. Who knew you’d be such a harsh judge.”

  She couldn’t very well admit it had been a helluva lot more potent than that. Reese Brennan hardly needed encouragement in the tonsil-dive department. Instead, she shot him a steely glance and said, “Get me reinstated and you get another shot at proving me wrong, how’s that?”

  CHAPTER 2

  Upstairs on the twelfth floor, Quinn and Reese stepped off the elevator into a waiting area and a different kind of chaos. There were more police officers than medical staff still milling about.

  Max St. John, as well as another dozen or so cops, gathered around an injured Baylee Scott as she stood holding her infant daughter, Sarah. She was doing her best under the circumstances to give them her statement about Sarah’s kidnapping while everyone crowded around to listen.

  It was obvious she was still distressed but grateful to have her daughter back safe and sound.

  Quinn had to give it to the cops. They seemed to hold back a little, waiting for Baylee to compose herself. Although they still surrounded her they put off their questioning because the woman looked like she’d gone six rounds with Sugar Ray Leonard and lost.

  Her split lip had some glossy ointment spread on it now and what looked like a butterfly stitch or two. Quinn wasn’t sure how Baylee could even talk with her lips so swollen and puffy. Her cheeks and eyes were a collective mass of bruises and bumps already beginning to turn a nasty purplish black.

  Quinn had never seen the laid-back Dylan Burke so upset. Even though he stood next to Baylee, clutching her to his side as if he didn’t want to ever let the woman go, she could tell he was getting more agitated by the minute because the cops wouldn’t leave Baylee in peace.

  Reese decided that maybe he needed to get over there and run a little lawyer interference. It didn’t look like Max St. John intended on going anywhere anytime soon either. Knowing the players like he did, the bulldog detective wouldn’t give up until he got what he wanted. And Dylan simply wanted the cop to keep his distance so he and Baylee could get past this ordeal.

  As Reese made his way across the room, he knew compromise was a critical part of his profession. Realizing Max needed to get his questions asked and be on his way, Reese intervened. If Baylee had to answer questions, it would be done with a lawyer at her side.

  About that time, Max’s partner Dan Holloway stepped off the elevator into the madhouse. And just as Reese suspected, as soon as Baylee took a breath, Max pounced.

  “Let me see if I understand this, Miss Scott. You’re standing vigil beside your terminally ill father. Mr. Burke here goes down to the cafeteria to get coffee with your housekeeper, Tanya Lincoln. You’re left alone in the room. Connor Boyd bursts in, assaults you, and kidnaps your six-month-old child? Why? Why would he do that? Why would Connor Boyd of all people be interested in kidnapping your baby?”

  And just as Reese knew he would, Dylan exploded, stepping into Max’s face. “Who the hell knows what motivates a psycho bastard like Connor Boyd? Baylee certainly doesn’t have a clue. He kidnapped a baby, there’s no denying that fact. Doesn’t that settle this mess enough for you, detective?”

  “It does. And seems to be at the core of what started all of this today.” Max paused and pointed out, “Right now Mr. Burke, you need to take a step back before I arrange to have you spend the night locked up away from this woman who needs you the most right now.”

  Reese knew Dylan could be as cool as anyone, but where Baylee was concerned he wouldn’t hesitate to do something stupid, like getting arrested to shield Baylee from answering any embarrassing questions. So Reese quickly grabbed Dylan by the arm, pushing him back out of the cop’s face.

  “Take a step back, Dylan. Cool off. This won’t help Baylee.”

  But Dylan shook Reese off. “Look, St. John, Baylee didn’t beat herself up, and I sure as hell didn’t kidnap my own daughter. No one here has anything to hide, but you’re standing here wasting our time questioning us, and to what purpose? Don’t you see Baylee’s upset? We almost lost our child to Connor Boyd. It’s time you faced facts. Boyd is your bad guy here.”

  But Max was persistent. “Mr. Burke, I’m simply trying to get at the truth. You claim to be the child’s father. But downstairs, not fifteen minutes earlier, Cade claimed Connor had been certain he was the baby’s father.”

  Reese saw Baylee take a visible step backward away from all of them. She probably wondered if this mess would ever have resolution. For Dylan and Baylee’s sake, Reese wondered if Max intended the interrogation to be a long, drawn out process.

  Connor was dead. So what was the point?

  Reese, like Dylan, was afraid Max’s suspicious nature might open up a different can of worms entirely. Looking at Baylee’s face, he flinched. Thank goodness Connor hadn’t broken her nose. He watched as Quinn took up a position on the opposite side of Dylan, as if both of them were all that was holding Baylee up.

  Reese noted Quinn took hold of Baylee’s chin to assess the damage, female to female. The look on her face told him she was pissed.

  Quinn might be suspended, but she intended to take care of her friend in more ways than one. “Isn’t it enough the bastard beat the shit out of her? And it’s difficult to believe you’d put much stock in anything Cade Boyd told you at this point. You saw him downstairs, witnessed firsthand how he lost it. He’s as much a psycho as his brothers. If that display down in the ER fails to convince you, then maybe we should talk—officially. There’s a side to Cade Boyd you might not know about.”

  At the sound of Quinn’s words, Baylee recovered somewhat to set the record straight. If Quinn were ready to talk to them about what Cade had done to her, then she could do the same.

  “Look, Detective, Connor was obsessed for some reason with my child. He mistakenly thought he was Sarah’s father. He isn’t. I tried to tell him that, tried to set him straight. But when Connor Boyd got something in his head, it was difficult to persuade him that he was wrong about anything. And he was flat out not Sarah’s father.”

  Insistent, Dylan snarled, “I am this child’s father. I’m listed on her birth certificate. Any more talk about Connor Boyd fathering this baby from you or anyone else and you will have to answer to my lawyer.”

  Okay, thought Reese, Dylan was still sticking to the role he’d chosen to play several weeks earlier. For his friend, he’d take up the crusade.

  “And you’d need a court order for anything above that,” Reese reminded Max. “As well as justification, and I’ll fight you on that Max, every step of the way. Count on it. There is no legal or moral justification for getting a court order to determine paternity at this point.”

  Max stared at Reese before taking a long, hard look at Dylan and Baylee. He glanced in the direction of Jake Boston and Kit Griffin and decided a unified wall was a tough thing for a cop to overcome.

  “Okay. For now, that’s none of my business. I’m just trying to plug a few holes here, trying to understand why Connor Boyd decided to kidnap a six-month-old infant that had no apparent connection to him. Not to mention trying to understand who the hell slit his throat.”

  Dylan and Baylee looked somewhat relieved at that, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Max. At this point though he wasn’t certain anyone in the room was leveling with him. Satisfied for now though, he sought out his partner, Dan Holloway, who was on the other side of the reception area, deep in a discussion with Jake and Kit.

  Max reluctantly headed that way.

  In mid-sentence, Dan explained, “No denying it now. We hit upon the skulls first, two of them buried together on Boyd property near the reflecting pool, just like the old man told us. It wasn’t until about an hour ago the third skull came into view about five feet away from the others. By that time, they’d found the rest of the skeletal remains, leg and arm bones, the rib cage. Might take a while for the forensics team to excavate the entire perimeter,
though; the grounds are huge and we intend to use ground-scanning sonar to go over every inch of the place. If we’re patient we might get some answers now. Groundskeeper said he worked on the reflecting pool himself back in the late ’80s with the help of a local contractor. We’re trying to find the contractor now. Of course, we suspect two of the victims are Sarah Moreland Scott, the actress, and Luc Delaine, her lover, the tennis player.”

  “Luc was not her lover,” Baylee corrected from ten feet away. “He was a friend, nothing more. Those two hags, Jessica and Alana, spread rumors about Sarah at the country club, made up lies about her running off. She didn’t. So many people bought into the story, though. My father admits to that now, admits that Jessica and Alana made up the whole thing. For reasons only he knows, my father didn’t bother setting the record straight.”

  About this time, Tanya Lincoln appeared in the waiting area and took Sarah out of Baylee’s tired arms. “You need a breather. You’re exhausted. If you aren’t ready to go, then I’ll take Sarah and sit down here with her until everything settles down and these officers leave. Getting this upset isn’t good for you or the baby.”

  “Thanks, Tanya. I just want to make sure I’m around when they find out for sure about…my mother.”

  “I know, honey, but it won’t do any good if you push yourself until you collapse.”

  Dylan watched as Sarah settled into Tanya’s lap on the waiting room couch. Tanya soothed the child as only a grandmother could. He turned to Baylee and whispered. “The sooner we get rid of these cops, the sooner we can get this day behind us. We can do this, Baylee. We’re halfway there. Now, put on your ‘I’ve got nothing to hide’ face and let’s get these cops out of here for good so we can get on with our lives.”

  Baylee took a deep breath, nodded and sent Quinn a knowing look before reaching for her hand.

  The three of them left Sarah in the capable hands of Tanya and sidled over to join the conversation with Jake and Kit just in time to hear the last of Dan’s assessment. “That third body may be difficult to ID. Right now, those remains belong to someone not on our radar, another missing person, maybe, we just don’t know.”

  “Probably another poor soul who no doubt happened to have the misfortune of crossing paths with Jessica and Alana,” Baylee offered. “After all, those two decided to end my mother’s life out of spite, out of jealousy, out of revenge. No one may ever know what exactly the motivation was to kill her or anyone else who happened to cross their paths for that matter.”

  “A deadly attraction if there was one,” Quinn agreed. She turned to eye St. John. “Doesn’t finding all this out make both of them a pair of female serial killers? I mean first there are the Parkers, then Baylee’s mother, the tennis player, and some poor unidentified person as yet unnamed.”

  “It’s chilling,” Reese agreed. “They got away with five murders for an awfully long time without anyone ever questioning them.”

  “Well, someone has taken exception to their murderous ways and decided to exact his revenge, enough to wipe out the entire founding members of Boyd Boyd Geller & Gatz while managing to play rescue again. That makes twice now he’s saved the day for our side,” Quinn threw in.

  “It sounds to me like our Mr. X is set on ending the evil once and for all, making sure it stops with generation number two,” Reese decided. When they all turned to stare at him, his lips curved in a slight smile.

  For two months now, he’d been a reluctant passenger on their mystery train. They’d been trying to prove their revenge theory all that time. In fact, he could admit he’d been the last one to board, skeptic to the very end, convinced all of his friends were overreacting.

  But after Collin had kidnapped Kit, after he’d learned the gun found in Alana’s attic had been used in the Parker murders, he’d started to suspect his friends were onto something. Then they had discovered three bodies buried at the Enclave. After what Connor had done to Baylee and Sarah, after listening to Cade downstairs threatening Quinn not more than fifteen minutes earlier, it was time to board that train for good, maybe ride it to the next stop, see if he could prevent it from touching any more of his friends and destroying more lives in the process.

  Jake slapped him on the back. “It took you long enough.”

  When Quinn aimed that hundred-watt smile in his direction and moved a little closer, Reese stuck out his hand. “What do you say to a truce, Tyler?”

  “Sure, I suppose that stubborn nature of yours is what keeps your clients off death row. But it’s about time you used some common sense where these guys are concerned,” Quinn reasoned as she placed her hand into his. She would simply ignore the little vibe she got skin to skin, just like she intended to do with that searing tongue-tag in the elevator.

  But when she left her hand in his, Reese simply tugged on her fingers until hers were entwined with his.

  Max, however, was in no mood to hear them wax poetic about the professional killer he knew was stalking BBG&G’s law firm under the guise of meting out justice or what he considered justice. And it didn’t sit right with him, none of it.

  “The guy’s a cold-blooded killer, no better than Alana and Jessica. Talk about serial killers, he might be one for the record books. You shouldn’t dismiss that one critical point.”

  “I’m not,” Baylee said. “But I want you to understand the man has my undying gratitude and respect. What he did today to get Sarah away from Connor and back to me is nothing short of a miracle in my book.”

  Looking into Dylan’s eyes, she corrected, “Back to us.” She slid her hand neatly into his. “Some good the restraining order did. Connor waltzed in here and just snatched her out of my arms.”

  “I’ve come to realize that with the Boyds restraining orders are useless,” Quinn acknowledged. “Nothing but a worthless piece of paper that seems to piss them off even more, gives them another excuse to ramp up, to take even more drastic measures. And I’m with Baylee on this. No one’s saying he’s a hero. But he prevented Collin from killing Kit. And now, he’s prevented Baylee from losing Sarah…”

  “To a fucking monster,” Dylan finished. “I don’t care who the hell he is. If he were standing in front of me this minute, I’d throw my arms around his neck and kiss him on the mouth. He saved Sarah. That’s all that matters to me. He didn’t let Connor make it to his car with her. If he’d driven off…”

  Baylee agreed, “God only knows what Connor would have done, where he would have taken her. I don’t even want to think about it. Fucking rapist.”

  Max cocked a brow in her direction. “Rapist?”

  Baylee’s lips tightened, but it was too late. She’d carelessly tossed out the word. But it didn’t mean she had to explain a thing unless Max forced her. “Rapist,” she said quietly, jutting out her chin, daring Max to ask. “I’m thinking I’d like to pin a medal on our mysterious stranger.”

  When Max didn’t pursue the subject, Dylan picked up Baylee’s sympathetic attitude. “Right there with you on that score. Merely thanking the man isn’t nearly enough.”

  Reese weighed in with his take. “I’d say, whatever he is, we are all grateful to a man we wouldn’t recognize if we passed on the street.”

  At Reese’s comment, Kit turned to lock eyes with Jake. Picking up on the group’s mindset, she wanted them all to know, “Hey, no one’s more grateful than I am. As one who got rescued, I’d have to vote ‘yes’ with the big kiss on the mouth thing.”

  Not one cop in the room suspected that the knowing look between Jake and Kit masked a deliberate agenda. As far as Kit was concerned, she had no responsibility whatsoever to tell the police she might know exactly what their Mr. X looked like.

  He had, after all, come in to the Book & Bean. She’d had a conversation with him about a painting he believed resembled his late wife. Since he’d saved them from some guy the Boyds had hired to blow up the coffee shop, she decided to keep her mouth shut. No matter what he’d done in the name of a body count on his own, Kit felt she ow
ed the man something for having saved her—twice.

  And when Jake gave a curt shake to his head, he seemed to be telling her he agreed with her silence. To her, the man’s description wasn’t important anyway. Coming clean now with what he looked like would help no one.

  But they all politely listened as Max St. John continued to make his feelings known. “Oh, for god’s sake, I don’t believe you people. This man is a professional killer.”

  “Don’t doubt that,” Jake agreed, never taking his eyes off Kit. “But because of him, I have Kit standing here with me now and a six-month-old baby is back with her mother. I’d say, Max, I’m officially signed on to the guy’s fan club. Hell, I might even be president.”

  “Remember, every single thing he’s done up to this point has been self-serving. Every step he’s taken, his body count goes up. Nine by my count, and those are the ones we know about,” Max grumbled.

  Fed up listening to such talk, Max turned to leave. “This investigation will move forward. I’m headed out now to review surveillance cameras from the garage. This time your mystery hero made a mistake—a big one. In fact, that shirt the baby was wrapped in is headed to the lab. Connor Boyd’s blood isn’t the only DNA we hope to find there.”

  When Jake and Reese followed him to the elevator, Max simply waved them back and said, “I’m on it already. I’ll see to it that Connor’s DNA is taken at the morgue and sent to the lab for testing before we release it to the funeral home. As soon as the coroner gets me a swab, I’ll send it off for comparison to the samples we took at your wife’s crime scene. I’ve talked to the forensics people, already given them a heads-up.”

  Jake slapped Max on the back. “That’s all I ever wanted, Max. I need to know who killed Claire. If that was Connor Boyd I can put this to rest.”

  When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Max strolled inside, pushed the button. “You will, Boston. We both will. You have my word.”

  CHAPTER 3