Ending Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 3)

by Vickie McKeehan

  The little bungalow had no more than nine-hundred square feet of total space, so he moved on to the living room, where he found it empty. He headed into the bedroom; no one there either. He quickly checked the bathroom and came up with nothing.

  He was on the verge of looking around for a cellar door when he snapped his fingers, remembering he hadn’t looked in the bedroom closet.

  He shook his head. He must be getting sloppy in his old age. Finding the closet door locked, he put his shoulder into the cheap wood and cracked it open.

  A bound Gloria tumbled out at his feet in a heap.

  Trevor holstered his weapon and bent down to feel for a pulse. Her eyes were closed, but she was alive.

  He removed her blindfold, took the knife out of his boot to cut the cord binding her wrists together, as well as the one at her feet.

  He tapped her gently on the face, trying to get her to come around. “Gloria, can you hear me? Come on, sweetheart.”

  As soon as she showed signs of life, she groaned. “My head hurts.”

  “Don’t be afraid, I’m here to help you. Can you stand?”

  “They tied my feet.”

  “I know, but I untied them. Come on; try to stand up for me.”

  “Who are you?”

  “We need to get out of here. They’ll be back—soon. Can you walk?”

  “I’ll do anything to get out of here. Collin killed Morty right in front of me. He…he...”

  “Don’t think about it.” He started prodding her toward the kitchen and the back door, going out the way he’d come in. But once they got to the side of the house, without shoes, barefoot, Gloria started to falter.

  Realizing they would never make it to the car unless he carried her, he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder.

  But at the midway point, Gloria started to squirm. Since he felt winded, and a little more than out of shape carrying her, he stopped to catch his breath.

  He dropped her feet back on the ground.

  “I can walk now. You don’t have to lug me all the way to the car.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No, but do you have another one of those?” She pointed to the gun in his holster.

  “What? You want a gun?”

  “Yes, I’d feel better having one in case they come back.”

  Trevor eyed her curiously and reached around his back, pulled out what he called his suicide gun, a .22 caliber Smith and Wesson, from his waist. “Do you know how to fire a weapon?”

  “You point it and pull the trigger?”

  He chuckled, but flicked off the safety, pulled back the slide and released it, handed it off. “It’s ready to point and shoot. Make sure you aim for the bad guys, okay?”

  That got her moving again and she tentatively started walking to the car.

  “I’m so grateful you came along when you did. Cade had already decided to kill me. They talked about it all the way out here. They thought I was out of it. I’ve just now gotten to know Kit as my daughter. I’m getting ready to meet my son—from Ireland. He probably talks the way you do. They were about to take all that away from me until you saved me! Thank you!”

  Nothing like a chatty blonde to make the blood pump, Trevor thought. And this one looked ready to burst with babble. With his fingers, he scooted a few strands of stray hair behind her ear. “I always did have a weakness for blondes.”

  That got a laugh out of her.

  And it was a great thing to be able to laugh, Gloria decided. Because he stood so close to her, she leaned over and planted a kiss squarely on his mouth. “That’s for saving me. Will you take me home?” She laughed again. And it felt glorious to be able to kiss and laugh and act silly.

  Pushing her toward the car, he explained, “We’ll call Kit to pick you up, how’s that?”

  “No, I want you to take me back to Crandall House, okay? They’ll want to see you, meet you. They have so much to tell you. Don’t you know that?”

  He shook his head. “I wish I could but…”

  “You think they’ll call the police? Don’t be absurd. They won’t do that. We all have to work at getting rid of these scummy bastards once and for all or they’ll just keep trying to hurt us.”

  Trevor grinned. “That’s why I’m calling someone to pick you up. The less you know the better. I’ll take care of Cade and Collin.”

  “That’s what I’m telling you. You don’t have to do it on your own.”

  “I work alone,” he pointed out and watched her blush before she spontaneously hugged him again. They stood there like that in a brief embrace until he had to nudge her along again.

  They’d almost made it to the car when Trevor noticed headlights approaching fast from the other end of the gravel road. Quickly he opened the door, pushed Gloria down into the passenger seat of the Chevy.

  Reaching in the glove box, he grabbed his backup pistol, a Glock 17 and crawled over Gloria into the driver’s seat. He started the engine, shoved the car in gear, and took off down the dark lane, never bothering to turn on the headlights.

  With any luck maybe they could fake out the two stooges.

  Behind the wheel of the SUV, though, Cade yelled, “Did you see that? It looked like movement, someone running down the side of the road from the house.”

  Cramming his mouth with a protein bar, Collin said, “I don’t see a thing.”

  “Son of a bitch, I bet Gloria’s escaped. I thought you said she’d be out for another hour.”

  “Just get her, run her down if you have to.”

  “Wait, there’s a car heading right for us with its lights off.”

  “I see it!” Collin pulled out his Luger and hit the button to roll down the glass. He opened fire from the passenger window.

  Trevor returned fire as he floored the gas. “Stay down!” he yelled as the Chevy tore off down the road, skidding on the gravel.

  As they drove past the Tahoe, though, Gloria hit the button to roll down the glass. She steadied the barrel of the gun on the rim as best she could and took aim. She fired off several quick shots in rapid succession. She heard bullets hitting metal but couldn’t see much else as gunfire continued to erupt around them.

  All of a sudden, Trevor felt a burn in his shoulder blade. He winced but took the time to cast a quick glance in the rearview mirror. “I don’t know how you managed, but it looks like you punctured their tires. Nice shooting for an amateur.”

  “The tires? Damn it, I was aiming for Collin’s head.” Gloria turned back around in her seat to stare at the man who had saved her. “Oh, my God, you’ve been shot. There’s blood on your shirt.”

  “It isn’t the first time.”

  “Pull over, let me help you.”

  “Are you crazy? We’re not stopping.”

  She laughed. “Some say I am, crazy that is. I like to think I march to my own drum.”

  In spite of the pain in his shoulder, he threw her a wicked grin.

  They drove in anxious silence until they got back to the 101. Gunning the car up the ramp, Trevor merged onto the heavily trafficked highway with the other stream of vehicles. They hadn’t gone very far though when the car abruptly began to weave.

  Gloria looked over, heard him began to wheeze as if having difficulty breathing. “Your shirt is already soaked. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Pull over. I can take the wheel.”

  He did feel lightheaded, but he shook it off. “I’m fine. It’s probably just a scratch anyway.”

  “You aren’t fine. Where are you taking me?”

  “Someplace safe,” he muttered between clenched teeth. His right shoulder felt like someone had taken a fire poker and jabbed him a couple of times with it.

  “Where, though? I deserve to know.”

  The car veered to the right again, this time almost clipping a call box. She glanced over and saw his head drop back onto the headrest.

  “For God’s sakes, brake!” Gloria shouted. “Pull over! Now!”

  The car drifted completely off
the roadway. When it finally slowed to a stop, Gloria went around to the driver’s side. It took some time to coax Trevor, one leg at a time, to climb over the console into the passenger seat.

  Blood spurted out onto his shirt now more than it had before.

  And once she crawled behind the wheel, she realized just how badly Trevor had been hurt. Sticky blood residue clung to the steering wheel, as well as the upholstery. Knowing he needed a doctor, she had a decision to make. If she took him to the nearest ER there would be countless questions. Even she knew this man would not want to answer any of them.

  She wasn’t about to put him in harm’s way after he’d saved her life.

  There was only one place to go.

  She reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and punched in a number. She angled her head in the side mirror to check traffic before accelerating back into the steady line of cars.

  Cade filled the night air with a string of blue obscenities as he realized the SUV wasn’t going anywhere. “Now we’re stuck out in this godforsaken area with two fucking flat tires.”

  “I’m telling you we need to head south to Mexico. This whole thing is falling apart. It’s more than we bargained for. We need to get out of here.”

  “Shut the fuck up and let me think! I want my goddamn money and I’m not going anywhere until those bastards give it back. They aren’t going to outsmart me. I’m going to kill every single one of those bastards just like I killed those goddamn cunts.”

  “Wh…what did you say? What’re you talking about, Cade?”

  “Forget it.” Scott was dead and buried now and no other living soul needed to know what they’d done together. Cade took out his cell phone. “I’ll call Adam and tell him we need some help out here.”

  “What did you mean, Cade? You and Scott killed those hookers, didn’t you?”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “I know some of them went missing. That platinum blonde one, the one who looked like Kit, never got back together with me. I liked her but she never showed up again even when I called and requested her. They told me she disappeared, left without a word and didn’t come back.”

  “Shut up, Collin.”

  “No, no I won’t, not this time. That’s why you weren’t upset Scott took a bullet, isn’t it? Scott knew because Scott helped you. That’s why we buried him with those other rotting bodies.”

  Cade narrowed his eyes at his brother. “And that’s the same spot where I intend to bury all three of those bitches. I plan to put Quinn, Baylee, and Kit in the ground right alongside those whores if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

  When Cade moved toward him, Collin flinched and aimed his Luger at Cade’s chest. “Don’t you ever hit me again; I’m tired of taking your crap. I’m in this just as deep as you; have just as much to lose, too. You want to stay and finish this, fine. But after we get Kit and that Boston prick, I’m heading out of here. I’m done with all of this.”

  “Fine. Let’s just get tires on the damn truck so we can get out of here.”

  “How do we get back our money now that Gloria’s gone? She was our bargaining chip, our insurance.”

  “I believe in spreading around the insurance. There’s another way we can take care of all of them once and for all.”

  “What time did Cade say he’d call back? It’s been well over an hour,” Kit pointed out as she paced the living room, back and forth, back and forth, all the while chewing on her thumbnail. “I knew I should have insisted she come stay with us until this was over.”

  “Kit, you tried and she said she had too much to do before Ben got here.”

  “Obviously, I didn’t try hard enough. She was vulnerable and I…I let her stay at home by herself.”

  “You did try, honey.”

  “Then I should’ve made her.”

  Jake ran his hand through his hair. “There’s no point in beating yourself up. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. Some of Donovan’s men should’ve been there with her. I should’ve thought of it.”

  About that time, Kit’s cell phone rang. She looked at the display and grunted, “It’s a blocked number. Hello,” she said impatiently.

  “Hi, Kit.”

  “Mom, are you okay?” Kit asked, her voice breaking with relief welling inside her chest. “We’ll get you back, no matter what we have to do, I promise we will.”

  “It’s okay, honey. I’m okay, thanks to my avenging angel who showed up out of the blue and got me away from them.”

  “What? What are you talking about? What do you mean you got away? She got away,” Kit revealed.

  “He saved me. But he’s shot, honey. He’s losing a lot of blood. I’m bringing him back to Crandall House right now. We’re on our way. Tell Quinn I need her in doctor-mode ASAP.”

  “How close are you? Is there any chance you were followed?”

  “I don’t think so. We’re humming along the 101 now, not yet at the Ventura County line.”

  But twenty long minutes later, the Chevy pulled into the driveway at Crandall House and six anxious adults poured out of its double doors. Kit ran around to where Gloria was getting out of the car and made sure she was all right while Reese, Jake, and Dylan headed straight for the passenger side door where they found an unconscious man with black hair but graying at the temples passed out on the front seat.

  The three men gingerly picked him up while Quinn led the way into the dining area where she had already set up a makeshift trauma room.

  Quinn sized up the situation as Baylee stood by prepared to assist in the role of impromptu nurse. As soon as the men stretched him out on the table, the two women began to cut away his shirt so Quinn could examine the wound.

  “Before we do anything, let me see what we’ve got first. Looks like the bullet entered through his right shoulder and traveled up to the clavicle. Missed the subclavian artery, though, at least I think it did. But he’s bleeding badly from somewhere. Without an x-ray I can’t tell if it nicked rib bone, though. Baylee, try to keep the pressure on the wound, right here.” She showed her what she meant near his right shoulder blade.

  “I’m going to try and turn him over to see if there’s an entrance wound.”

  “Should I get the alcohol?” Baylee asked.

  “No,” Quinn answered absently. She examined the underside of his shoulder blade and then found the pierced flesh near his armpit.

  “Anything we can do, Quinn, just let us know,” Dylan offered from the doorway, a little nauseous from looking at the red stains on the man’s clothing. “Do you think he’ll need blood?”

  “Probably, but right now, I need supplies before I need anything else.”

  Baylee chimed in, “I brought everything I could find from the bathroom medicine cabinet already. There isn’t a lot. Jake and Kit haven’t lived here long enough to accumulate much of what you’d call first aid staples. Alcohol is all I found.”

  “That’s fine. What time is it?”

  “Almost midnight,” Reese answered. “Why?”

  “Perfect. There’s a pharmacist supply clerk at the hospital who is having an affair with one of the nurses. Every night he’s on duty, they manage to sneak off and leave the supply room door unlocked and unmanned. Reese, start making out a list of supplies. First on the list is a blood type kit, then Betadine, lots of it, gauze, all the bandages you can carry. And grab plenty of antibiotics.

  “Baylee, go get Kit. I need the two of you to make a midnight run to the hospital pharmacy. I’ll make do with Surfer Boy here as my stand-in nurse while you two go get the supplies I’ll need.”

  Jake spoke up. “Now wait a minute, Kit isn’t going anywhere…I want her here, safe and sound. Whatever you need, I’ll go get.”

  “Damn right. Baylee’s not going anywhere either. Jake and I’ll both go instead,” Dylan agreed. “I don’t want Baylee leaving this house without me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Kit argued. “I’m a grown woman. If I can help…I wouldn�
��t be here if it weren’t for this man. Tell me what you want me to do, Quinn.”

  “Dylan Burke, after what you did, sneaking out of this house behind my back, you have the nerve to try and tell me what to do? Just back off,” Baylee snapped. “Quinn has a plan, let’s hear it.”

  “No need for anyone to get pissy. A man won’t get the job done. It’s that simple,” Quinn stated emphatically. “The supply clerk adores blondes, considers himself a bit of a lady killer when it comes to the fairer sex. Either Kit or Baylee will distract him long enough to raid the place for what we need. I’d say the job falls to Baylee since he loves little petite women. Kit will only intimidate him. While you’re at it please feel free to pay him back for being such a horn dog, horse’s ass.”

  Kit snickered. “Oh, he’s gonna love Baylee.”

  Baylee shook her hair back. “Damn straight. I haven’t lost my touch either.”

  Dylan grinned at her. “I can attest to that.”

  “And if you drive like a bat out of hell, you should be there by the time he goes on break at one o’clock. Surfer Boy, get over here and keep pressure on this wound. Let the women handle this one.”

  Quinn grabbed a piece of paper out of Reese’s hand and started drawing the map of the storeroom and the path to take to get there. “Most everything I need will be here. If you enter through the loading dock, say right here, take a right down the first hallway, there will be no one around to challenge you, or ask questions.”

  “I’ll drive,” Kit volunteered. “Baylee drives like an old woman.”

  “I do not. Will he be okay till we get back, though?” Baylee asked.

  “He’ll be fine. No way am I going to lose this guy after everything he’s done for us.”

  Four hours and one surgery later, they had transferred Trevor to an upstairs bedroom where Dylan sat on a chair next to his bed giving him blood. With his arm outstretched, Dylan supplied him with a new source of A positive, which happened to be a perfect match to Trevor’s.