Ending Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 3)

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Oh, Quinn,” Kit sighed as she put her arms around her friend’s shoulders. “See, that martyr thing you’ve got down to a fine art. You had no way of knowing Cade’s madness would touch Reese in such a dramatic way. The brothers are nuts. They’ve always been nuts. You know that. You shouldn’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t have predicted they’d do. And that includes them shooting up Reese’s house.”

  “That’s not exactly accurate, predicting what they’d do. When he lost it in the ER, he said he was coming for me; in fact he said he was coming for all of us. There were cops there who heard him.”

  “See? They didn’t do a thing to prevent them from blowing up your building or shooting up Reese’s house,” Baylee pointed out. Black and bruised, Baylee jutted out her chin. “Yeah well, we’re smarter than these guys. And we’ve got this mysterious stranger on our side, the one who keeps helping us. Between the seven of us we should be able to take down what’s left of The Unholy Three.”

  Kit stretched her free arm out to include Baylee and little Sarah. They drew closer together like they were football players huddling on a field. Just as they had done this ritual a thousand times before, or at least since they were eight years old, Kit held out a curved pinky on each hand, the gesture, a symbol of their unity. Baylee held out hers and the baby’s. Then on cue, Quinn did the same.

  In a circle, in unison, the three women repeated the chant. “Together we let no one hurt us. We are most powerful when we are one. We draw strength from each other. One.”

  They fist-bumped each other as they always did before suddenly separating and breaking apart.

  All at once they turned to see three pairs of male eyes gaping at them from the kitchen doorway. The three men stood still as statues watching the women go through the brief but touching ceremony.

  Suddenly it all became clear.

  Reese spoke first. Staring straight into Quinn’s chocolate eyes, he stated, “This is what you were trying to tell me last night. This is your true family right here. For so many years, that’s all the three of you had—each other. You were each other’s sounding boards, each other’s support system, each other’s anchor through what had to be the most difficult of times growing up the way you did.”

  Quinn swallowed, overcome with emotion she’d never felt for another man. She stared into Reese’s face and saw not ridicule but rather genuine admiration.

  She went over where he stood. Without prelude, she kissed him deeply on the mouth. “You are the first man on the planet who has ever gotten that about me.”

  Dylan went to Baylee, even as Jake reached for Kit. “I think we all get it now.”

  There in the middle of the kitchen, arms stretched out resting on each other’s shoulders, all six of them drew together in another impromptu huddle.

  Dylan joked, “I’ve always wanted to do a pinky swear.”

  Baylee elbowed him in the ribs. “Then you’re lucky we let you in to our very exclusive club, Surfer Boy.”

  It was Reese who took up the chant while the women stood a little stunned at having the men included in something they’d shared with no one else since childhood. But under the circumstances it seemed fitting. Soon they too repeated the words. “Together we let no one hurt us. We are most powerful when we are one. We draw strength from each other. One.”

  When Reese looked down at Quinn, she was smearing away the tears on her face. She laid her head on his chest. “For what it’s worth, I think I just got you.”

  He leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s worth more than you could possibly know.”

  Dylan broke the somber mood. “Look, I’m starving. I just lugged around enough baby stuff to stock an ‘R us’ store. Got anything to eat? I could’ve sworn when I opened the door I smelled Italian.”

  Baylee took his face between the fingers of her free hand, kissed him gently on the mouth. “Better feed this one before he has to set up the Pack ’N Play again and gets grumpy.”

  “Hey, that Pack ’N Play is a piece of cake. I’ve taken it down and put it back up so often now I could do it blindfolded.”

  He reached over and took the baby out of Baylee’s arms. “Besides, Sarah’s worth every minute of it, aren’t you, Gidget?”

  The baby cooed, “Daaaaaa,” and grabbed Dylan’s nose.

  Quinn turned completely around from the fridge. “Did she just say Da? My God, she’s only six months old.”

  “Exceptional, huh? I know, talking already. That’s daddy’s girl, aren’t you, Sarah?”

  The others eyed Dylan with disbelief. It was Reese who asked, “Is this the same guy who boasted three girls in one…”

  Holding the baby, Dylan couldn’t very well retaliate in the normal physical way by beating Reese into the ground, so he chose a verbal response instead, sure to shut up Reese’s ribbing. “Five words, Brennan.” He ticked them off with one hand. “Cancun. Jennifer. And. Janie. Dinkins.”

  The mention of Cancun and what had happened during a wild college week of spring break had Reese stopping in mid-sentence.

  “I didn’t think so,” Dylan declared as he jostled Sarah in his arms.

  Kit giggled at their banter. “This guy knows his food. I made lasagna and strawberry pasta salad.”

  “With that pesto stuff?” Dylan asked.

  “With the pesto stuff,” Kit repeated.

  As they set out the food on the table, they tried to keep the conversation light and centered on upcoming events, like the anticipated arrival of Ben Griffin.

  “When exactly does he get here?” Quinn asked Kit.

  “Four days, seven hours, and…” Kit held up her right hand and looked at her watch. “Twenty-five minutes. Jake and I decided to send a car for him.”

  “More like, I’m not taking Kit and standing on a curb at LAX waiting for Collin and Cade to show up. Sending a car to pick him up makes the most sense,” Jake explained.

  “Did you talk to him yet on the phone, Kit?” Quinn asked.

  Kit sighed, shooting a look of disdain at Jake. “No. Funny thing about that though. After Jordan Donovan found him, after that initial phone call, so far our only communication has been via e-mails.”

  “You don’t find that a tad odd?”

  Jake looked skeptical. “I find that a lot strange, but he did agree to make the trip. At this point, as long as it took to locate the guy, we have to be grateful for that.”

  “It’s a step closer to getting him to meet his birth mother. At least Gloria will finally meet the son she’s never seen. And I want all of you here to meet the brother I’ve never met, especially since I’ll need your backup in case it gets weird.”

  Quinn put her arms around Kit. “Oh, honey, weird? This entire thing moved past weird a long time ago and sailed straight into the world of bizarro, that which we laughingly recognize as our lives.”

  Baylee laughed. “You know you’ve got our support without having to ask, Kit. You and Gloria deserve this.”

  “Okay, so now that we have that out of the way, any chance we could talk about where I’m going to live during my forced leave of absence? Hello? Reese offered his place but now it’s all shot up.”

  Quinn looked around the table, all eyes on her. “Do I have to remind anyone here that my condo blew up? Plus, I have to spend some of this time going shopping and replacing everything I owned, especially every stitch of clothing I’d had since college.”

  Baylee picked up her glass of wine, toasted the air. “Which is the very reason you seriously needed to replace most of your wardrobe, some of it was so out of style… No one wears acid-washed jeans any more, Quinn. No one.”

  “Jeans never go out of style,” Quinn reasoned, slightly insulted. “I read that somewhere.”

  Baylee shook her head. “They do, Quinn, and if you ever went anywhere other than the hospital you’d see it for yourself.”

  Kit placed a hand over Quinn’s. “You’ll stay here, of course. I thought you knew that. You both will
until Reese gets his house back in working order. We were trying to dance around the topic, didn’t think you were ready to talk about losing all your stuff yet.”

  “I guess there’s no point in mentioning I could stay in Gloria’s empty guest house then?”

  In answer to that, in unison, five unanimous voices yelled out, “No!”

  Quinn snickered. “Okay, okay. Just checking to make sure everyone’s on the same page. As long as the Nutty Brothers are on the loose I guess it’s all for one and sticking close together. We’ll probably get sick of each other.”

  “This is a big house with plenty of room for everyone. If we start getting on each other’s last nerve, we send whoever it is to their room for a timeout,” Kit proposed.

  Baylee chimed in, “Who wants to bet me Dylan will be the first one who ends up in time out?”

  “Me? I’m laidback. I’m the good one, the peacemaker, the surfer dude who’s full of witty repartee and all kinds of wise...”

  “More like full of crap,” Jake pointed out, tempering his words with Sarah not two feet away.

  But Reese didn’t get the attempt at humor. “Is anyone going to bring up the question, first and foremost on our minds? Or are we just planning to sit here and make jokes and wait for Cade and Collin to drive up and start opening fire on us again? I’m done with that. These guys aren’t gonna stop until somebody’s dead.”

  As they dug into the hearty pan of lasagna, Jake answered, “We’re all ears. By all means enlighten us on what you have in mind to get the assholes out of our lives for good.”

  “Ben Griffin isn’t due to show up for four more days.” He slanted a glance in Quinn’s direction. “In spite of the papers I’ve filed to fight Quinn’s suspension, I doubt we get a hearing for at least a couple more days. I say we head to a destination the Boyds know nothing about…”

  Dylan busted out laughing while Jake simply shook his head and waited for the women to explode.

  Predictably, it was Quinn who shouted the others down first.

  “Before we got here he wanted to take off for Ireland. Now, he wants to run for the hills. What is it with you Brennan? Until a few days ago you thought we were all crazy and you were the only voice of reason in the room. Now, you want to take off on a pilgrimage somewhere to protect us womenfolk.”

  “We tried that already, Reese. Dylan got Baylee to go as far away as Catalina before he had to bring her back,” Jake pointed out.

  “We aren’t going anywhere,” Kit reminded them. She sent a scornful look at Jake. “I have a business to run. That business requires me to be on the premises daily.”

  Baylee agreed. “And I need to stick around because my father might come out of his coma and be willing to tell me more of the story about what happened to my mother.”

  Dylan sent her a sympathetic look. “Let’s hope he does. But…” He didn’t want her expectations too high. “Look…”

  “I know. Okay, maybe he’s pretty far gone, but at this point I need to be there at his bedside, see if I can pry any more info out of him that might be useful the minute he becomes lucid. There’s a chance, even if it’s slim, he might come out of it. Besides, his days are running out, barring a miracle of some sort. And I’d like to go back over to his house on Bel Green and see if I can locate Sarah’s last diary.”

  “Stubborn is one thing but need I remind all of you that Cade killed eight people in that blast. If Quinn and I hadn’t gone out to dinner, she might not be sitting here at all.”

  “Aw, you’re growing on me too, Brennan, even if it’s taken a psycho like Cade to bring us closer. But hey, I suppose I’m game for a road trip. If you can talk these two into taking a couple of days off, that is, I’m in. I’ve got nothing else to do. Where’d you have in mind to go?”

  “A cabin, up at Big Sur. My dad and I used to go there all the time. Jake and Dylan have been there.”

  Baylee laid her hand on top of his. “A trip sounds wonderful, Reese. But honestly I don’t feel I could leave Dad in his condition. You and Quinn should go, though. Get Quinn away from all of this, even if it’s just for a couple of days that would help.”

  Kit wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “It sounds lovely, Reese. But I’m not going off on a trip and splitting us up. I’m with Baylee, though; you should get Quinn out of here. You two go, get out of Dodge.”

  But understanding dawned suddenly. Quinn stood up and exclaimed, “Wait a minute, if they don’t go, I’m not leaving them behind.”

  Dylan nodded. “Strength in numbers; we split our forces we weaken the team.”

  Reese sighed. “I had to try one more time, not that I thought anyone would go for it. If we all don’t go as a unit, then forget it. We stay together, do this together.”

  Quinn smiled at him then. “Damn straight we do.”

  Dredging close to shore, ten miles south of San Madrid, the Wild Goose decided to head into port earlier than usual. It wasn’t because the crew had reached its three-hundred-pound catch yet or because they’d had engine trouble. Today, Captain Ryland Phillips, the father of two young boys who both played little league, had promised his sons he’d make it to their game that night and it started at six o’clock sharp. His oldest, ten-year-old Kellan was starting pitcher and had a streak of five wins under his belt.

  Ryland didn’t want to miss the first pitch.

  As the sixty-foot shrimp boat got closer to the jetty, though, Ryland’s eye caught something hung up on the rocks. From where he stood on the deck, it looked like a bloated mass of something.

  He took out his binoculars to get a closer look. Sure enough, the mass was a body.

  Captain Phillips didn’t know it yet, but he could attest firsthand that the Pacific Ocean had just given up Uri Jankovic to the land.

  He reached to radio the Coast Guard.

  He could only hope he wouldn’t be late for his son’s first pitch.

  CHAPTER 7

  When Trevor finally woke that afternoon, he turned on the telly and blinked at the screen. The local television anchors were reporting a drive-by shooting that had taken place earlier in the day at the house of local attorney, Reese Brennan.

  Okay, it was official. Cade and Collin Boyd had gone bat-shit crazy.

  He ordered a steak from room service before going over to his laptop, booting it up. It was time to face facts.

  One person for this task was spread too thin.

  Failing to locate the brothers at this point could result in more unnecessary deaths. Lives were at stake. It was time to enlist an army, people who also had a vested interest in the outcome, people with limited skills, maybe, but if he balanced the emotional investment, it might make up for a lack of skillset with a deadly weapon.

  Even though he was a damned fine hired gun and a trained sniper, Trevor was also a decent hacker. But his resources told him he had at his disposal two who were even more talented in that area. If the skills were applied correctly, hackers could do some serious damage, enough to weaken the enemy.

  It took him under five minutes to crack the network of Brennan’s law firm. Once in, he sent Brennan an encrypted, untraceable e-mail, laying the groundwork for what he hoped would be a joining of forces.

  Inside Crandall House, Reese sat at the desk in the guest room designated as his. He had just polished off a brief and sent it to his paralegal with instructions for the next day’s filings when an e-mail appeared in his inbox with the subject line that read:

  Dossier on Boyd Boyd Geller & Gatz

  Reese checked the sender and noticed it read anonymous. He also saw that it had a rather large attachment. Relying on his virus software and hoping it was up-to-date enough to ward off any malware or Trojan horses, he double-clicked the message.

  For the next thirty minutes he read page after page of incriminating evidence against the Boyds, some he and his friends already knew. But as he flicked through document after document onscreen, it soon became apparent there was even more they didn’t.

  A
nd knowing was about to change the game—yet again.

  Downstairs, Jake was locking up for the night when he heard a car pull into the driveway and saw headlights illuminate the living room wall. Immediately wary, he went to the front window, pulled back the drapes, and peered out into the dark. Because Crandall House was rather isolated, there were no streetlamps to provide lighting at night.

  Even though he knew Donovan’s men were out there guarding the perimeter, watching the house, knowing that didn’t make him feel any safer when it came to keeping the Boyd brothers away from Kit, Baylee, and Quinn.

  He went on alert as soon as he heard a car door slam shut. At that very moment his cell phone rang. By this time Reese had come into the room, the nine-millimeter Luger clutched in his fist with Dylan tagging along behind holding his own M-nine Beretta.

  Jake spared them both a glance and pushed the button to answer his phone. “Boston.”

  “Max St. John. I’m right outside your front door. I’ve got news.”

  Jake went over to the double set of doors filled with hope, keenly aware Max wouldn’t be here this time of night if it weren’t important. He squinted through the peep hole and sure enough spotted the detective in charge of Claire’s murder standing on the porch.

  A certain amount of expectation rose in his chest. Was it possible Max had already discovered who killed Claire? He turned the lock. “This better be good,” he said with a grin.

  “Funny how it always seems to be late at night when I get around to solving a puzzle. Why the hell do you guys have to live so far out here in the boonies anyway? What the hell’s wrong with a nice neighborhood like Westlake Village? Holloway tells me it’s got a nice view of a scenic lake.”