Ending Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 3)

by Vickie McKeehan

  “You’re saying Ross was never his record producer? Ever?”

  “I’m not saying it. That’s what Nick claims. It’s easy enough to verify.”

  “But you have another theory.”

  How was she always able to peg him so fast? “Yeah, I do. My guess is Jennetti was working both sides of the deal. While keeping a tight fist on the ten grand every month he also must have been working Jessica Boyd for some reason.”

  “You mean blackmail?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. But we need answers before we make that leap.”

  “Yeah, Brennan couldn’t possibly take a leap in logic.” She shot him a disgusting look before adding, “Maybe Nick’s lying about Jennetti being his record producer. Maybe he knew the entire time.”

  “Why would he lie about that, Quinn?”

  “Because he’s a scumbag who can’t remember the underage girl he knocked up when she was fifteen years old!”

  Seeing the dubious look on Reese’s face, she took a breath. “I don’t know. But I still don’t understand, Reese. If it’s true that Rock Star sent all that money, then why did we live such a meager existence for so many years, destitute? Why did Ella have to hook?”

  “Good question and one I’m sure Jessica could clear up for us—if she were alive. But without her, we do what we did with Alana. We dig into Ella Canyon’s past. By hacking into the firm’s database, Jake and Dylan got us access to their records. Until now we had no need to look up anything other than the obvious financial records we were interested in getting. But now…this is an entire other avenue we have yet to explore. We’ll go through everything until we get to the bottom of this, Quinn. I promise you that.”

  For some reason, she believed him.

  But when Reese looked into Quinn’s moist eyes and his heart did a lurch he decided Tyler was also here for one other important purpose. This woman needed tangible family, flesh and blood, a connection to her past no matter how much she denied wanting it.

  She also needed this time to resolve her issues with the Rock Star, if indeed he turned out to be her father. This would be a perfect time to do that. But he needed to know proof of paternity as a starting point.

  “Honey, you’re going to need to take another DNA test, the sooner the better. I can arrange that right now…”

  She sighed heavily again. “I know.” When his arms went around her, she laid her head on his shoulder. “How is it the asshole can’t even remember my mother?”

  It was Reese’s turn to puff out a breath. “I don’t know but keep an open mind, okay, Quinn? Now, let’s go take care of that DNA test.”

  While Quinn got her mouth swabbed at a nearby lab, Reese phoned Jordan Donovan.

  “I need you to find me everything you can on a Lisa Redfield. And while you’re at it, get me everything on Ella Canyon. They might be one and the same person. But something tells me they are two different people entirely. I’ll e-mail you the two supposed birth dates for both women when I get back to the office. But remember, they, too, may not be real. You’ll need to think outside the box. Clearly finding out this info takes precedence over anything else.”

  “Good, because that other matter you wanted me to take care of is coming up a big, fat zero. No one has seen or heard from Ross Jennetti in more than three years. And the house in Beverly Hills was sold around that same time.”

  “Let me guess, Alana Stevens handled the real estate sale.”

  “The one and only. And Jessica Boyd acted as notary and witness. Her name appears on the papers for the sale of the house.”

  “Interesting,” Reese agreed. “Make sure you keep digging. Something tells me if Jessica Boyd was Lisa Redfield’s attorney, it didn’t end well.”

  “Really? Well, here’s something else to consider. Public records say Ross Jennetti and Ella Canyon were never married. I’ll do a felony search as well as a background check, see if I get any hits.”

  “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. These lies are built on top of lies. Jennetti was no stepfather to Quinn. Dig deep, Jordan. There’s bound to be more we haven’t uncovered.”

  CHAPTER 20

  With a fever of a one-hundred-and-two degrees, Trevor drifted in and out of a state of consciousness. Dreaming about a happier time always brought him back to a cozy little house he shared with his wife, Nelia, and their little daughter, Annie.

  He’d brought Nelia there to the cottage in Dalkey, a small seaside village outside Dublin as a newlywed where she could settle in and give birth to his child.

  He hadn’t realized until he’d held that tiny fragile bundle in his own arms how Annie would change his outlook on life and ultimately how he made his living.

  But that’s exactly what that tiny thing had done. Annie had made him want to be a better man.

  He remembered every minute of walking the floor with her, her little face scrunched up red and fussy, how he’d quieted her with the Irish lullabies from his gran.

  Memories of sitting outside on a sun-dappled front porch holding his Nelia next to him all the while little Annie dozed in her crib felt like a lifetime ago. Or maybe it had all happened to someone else.

  There were times he could still smell the fresh, spring flowers Nelia had cut and arranged in fat jars she lined up along the edge of the veranda, flowers Nelia had clipped from her own beautiful sunny garden. She’d loved growing her own things, had loved growing herbs and spices and vegetables of all kinds.

  Had a knack for it she did.

  He used to tease her about her ability to grow anything. And how her green thumb hadn’t extended into the kitchen, for his Nelia had been the worst cook he’d ever known. Could barely boil water and prepare a decent cup of tea.

  But his Nelia had been a wonderful mother.

  He remembered his beautiful blonde Nelia standing at the stove, laughing, and how her smile had been as wide as the Shannon River. Annie had her mother’s smile and her silver blonde hair, locks that had glistened in the sunshine, sunshine that always drifted in from the bank of windows in their little kitchen.

  Nelia would often take Annie out to sit under the wild cherry tree in the backyard of the little house, especially in the spring when the branches burst full of pinkish blossoms.

  Nelia had loved that tree and the way it had budded out with fragrant buds destined to become the wild cherries they would pick and give away to the neighbors.

  Those fading snapshots of his life back then were all he had now. He’d been clinging to those snapshots for decades.

  That and the smell of cherry blossoms took him back to a happier day, a day of picnicking spread out on a blanket, on grass so green he could still smell clover. They had a favorite place, a sunny patch of hillside where the baby could run around after butterflies to catch while he and Nelia made out under the brilliant blue sky.

  But there had been no blue sky the day they’d both died.

  That day, torrential rains had poured out of the black clouds as if the gods themselves had known what was about to happen.

  If it had been a mere accident, it might have gone down better for him. But he had known the minute he’d heard what had happened. They’d taken their revenge on his wife and child.

  Three days after the car had exploded in a fiery heap and crashed over a cliff into the sea, he’d gone after the people responsible, hunted them down, one by bloody one.

  Trevor woke in a sweat in Gloria’s arms.

  “You were tossing and turning,” she said as she grabbed a wet washcloth from the nightstand. She began to dab his face.

  When he’d fallen asleep, she’d been sitting by the side of his bed. He needed to put a stop to this and tell her to get the hell away from him.

  He stilled her hand. “Must you do that?” Annoyed that she’d watched him in sleep, he added, “Do you intend to sit with me all bloody day? What happens if I need to take a piss?”

  “You’re still running a fever. You were talking in your sleep, ta
lking about Nelia and Annie. I’m sorry you lost them.”

  “I didn’t fucking lose them.” He shot her a scornful look.

  “I know. I lost my Morty. He had a heart attack. I’m sorry you’re so unhappy.”

  Trevor rolled his eyes. “Unhappy? I exterminate people—for a living—and I’m bloody happy about it, too.”

  Just as derisive, Gloria remarked, “Nasty will only get you more days in bed. If you want to sulk and be moody and let your fever get higher, just say so and I’ll leave you to taking care of yourself. And if you need to take a piss, I’ll get one of the men to help you to the bathroom. You’ve only to risk finding a few decent words and ask.”

  “Fine. I take care of myself and have for quite some time now.”

  “And doing such a good job of it, too,” she snapped.

  “I was…until I got involved in this mess.”

  “Anyone who got near Alana Stevens and Jessica Boyd was subject to…their wrath and all manner of bad things happening.” She huffed out a breath. “Why are you being so difficult anyway?”

  “Me?”

  “Look, if it weren’t for you, Kit would already be dead by now. Sarah wouldn’t be snuggled in her crib at the moment asleep like a little angel, and look at me; I might yet live to see grandchildren.”

  At the prospect of that she did a little happy dance standing right next to his bed. “Because of you I’ll get to meet my son for the first time tomorrow. Tomorrow’s the big day.”

  His cheeks colored as if he’d been smacked.

  She reached over and took his face between both of her hands. “Well, look at that, I’m embarrassing you. Imagine that, such a tough guy shows he’s softhearted.”

  “Woman, listen to me. Not now, nor have I ever been, softhearted.”

  She touched her lips to his again, this time softer, for longer. “Oh, I think you’re not so tough after all. You’ve had a hard life. Losing the ones you love tends to do that to a person.”

  Jake cleared his throat from the doorway while Dylan simply grinned at the bickering he’d overheard and it seemed at their growing attraction to each other.

  Who would have thought Mr. X and Gloria had a chance at common ground?

  “Are we interrupting anything?” Jake asked with a huge grin on his face.

  “No,” was Trevor’s gruff response.

  “Good, because there are a few things we need to discuss.”

  “For starters, like how the bloody hell you know my name.”

  Jake grinned. “I wish I could take credit for that. We only know the name that was listed in a CIA file. We don’t know you. If you’re more comfortable with us not knowing, that’s okay, too.”

  “Your name isn’t important to us anyway—or your sordid past,” Dylan cracked.

  “We have more pressing matters to discuss.”

  “But with you sidelined at the moment and out of the game so to speak, ending this comes down to Jake, Reese, and me,” Dylan said, turning serious.

  Reese came through the door about that time. “Which means you’ll need to share what you know, a little more in depth than the e-mail you sent.”

  Quinn walked in and went straight to her patient. “How are we doing?”

  “His fever dropped to one-hundred-and-two about an hour ago,” Gloria explained. “But before that it had been as high as one-oh-four just as you predicted. He’s also been talking out of his head and—irritable.”

  Quinn nodded, took his pulse, and started checking his wound by lifting up the bandage.

  “I redressed it while he slept. But he was restless.” Gloria related the patient’s medical condition like any good shift nurse.

  “I’m right here for God’s sakes. You’re talking about me as though I’m not capable of speaking for myself,” Trevor growled.

  “Cranky, too,” Gloria pointed out. “But I think that’s a good sign.”

  “Ever notice how bloody cheery doctors and nurses are when the patient is flat on his back? I detest that.”

  Quinn grinned. “Beyond cranky, not a good patient, I’ll make sure to note that down in the chart so the other nurses are aware of your bad-tempered mood.”

  Reese came closer. “Quinn says that right shoulder is going to keep you out of action for at least another week. We don’t have another week.”

  Trevor sized up all three men. “So? You guys are two computer nerds and one geeky lawyer. What the hell do you intend to do about putting an end to a cold-blooded psychopath? You’re all amateurs when it comes to pulling a trigger. Ending Cade will take a little more than playing patty cake or putting a bullet in a tin can.

  “And if you don’t end Cade, this will go on and on. Because Cade is bloody well nuts, that’s what I know—in detail. He’ll keep coming after Quinn until she’s dead. Is that what you want?”

  Reese paled at the thought. “We’re a little tougher than you think we are.”

  “Really? Then let’s hear your dossier on how many men you’ve ended. Go ahead, because there’s a helluva big difference in talking about killing a man and actually being able to do it. You never forget the first person you kill either, looking into his eyes as the breath leaves him for good. You’ll be haunted in dreams for the rest of your lives. At least decent men usually are, no matter how pure the reason or how much the bastard deserved to die.”

  Trevor let his head fall back for a few seconds before lifting it enough to stare at the three men again. Good, he’d gotten their attention. “With a psycho like Cade, you hesitate pulling that trigger for a second and you’ll be the one left bleeding out on the ground. Is that what you want?”

  Dylan took offense. “I’ll do anything to keep Baylee and Sarah safe.”

  “Will you? Will you really end a person’s life to protect those you love?”

  Reese turned to look at Jake, then Dylan before staring at Quinn long and hard. “I don’t know about these two, but if I’m the only thing left between Cade and Quinn, I’ll take Cade out in a heartbeat to keep him from hurting her.”

  Quinn’s hand flew to her mouth. She met those calm, brilliant eyes. Those gray pools pulled her under. When had that happened? In the midst of all this she’d fallen hopelessly in love with the man. She wondered if he could tell, if he could see the love and the pride she had for him in her eyes?

  She loved him.

  She didn’t like the idea of falling in love with anyone, least of all a…wait. She had to get over the fact that she hated his profession. Wasn’t he trying to get answers to things she’d wondered about her entire life?

  And now he was willing to risk his to keep her safe.

  Quinn was big on loyalty. She had to take a step back and admit how much she respected him because he always took a stand. It might not be the stand she agreed with, but the fact he was more than willing to do so were big points in his favor. And look how he had acted after finding out about her stepfather. No other man knew that dark nugget she’d buried deep in the past for so long.

  And yet, he did.

  He’d reminded her there was nothing to be ashamed about.

  Quinn did her best to zone back into the moment and found it difficult to concentrate on anything anyone said. But this was too important. She needed to know what their little group could do to end this thing with Cade and more importantly how to go about it.

  Trevor was still in the process of giving them his take. “Collin’s nothing more than a follower. Take down Cade, and Collin will beg for his life. And being amateurs, you’ll fall for it.”

  Trevor stared long and hard at Jake. “But you let Collin live, send him to prison for let’s say, ten years or so for kidnapping, and that’s if you’re lucky, especially if he cops a plea. You let him live and he’ll come back after Kit. Guaranteed. Maybe not for a year, maybe not even in two. He might even hire someone from his jail cell to do it for him. How would that be? By this time you and Kit might have a couple of kids to worry about. But you’ll never quite be sure when or how
Collin will come back after her or your children. Because trust me, he’s obsessed. He will come after her first chance he gets.”

  He thought of his Nelia and little Annie.

  His mistake had been thinking it was over when he had testified against Paddy Murphy, sent him off to sit in a jail cell for a ten-year sentence, only to learn the man had directed his underlings from prison to go after his wife and child in retribution.

  He remembered hunting every one of the bastards down, remembered how he’d slit their throats in the process.

  The past for him had ended then, but his hell on earth had only begun.

  He’d never been able to fully let go of memories both good and bad since.

  “Then we’re of a like mind there,” Jake said matter-of-factly. “Their money is gone. Great idea by the way to make them poor, wished I had thought of it. But right now we need to know the best way to lure them out into the open. The promise of giving their money back is the obvious one, but then what?”

  Trevor nodded. “That’ll work but only if you realize even after you give them the money back, they still will come after the women. Cade would’ve still killed Gloria after you gave him proof of a wire transfer. You understand that, right?”

  All three men nodded in agreement. It was Reese who pointed out, “We have no intentions of giving them back a dime. Their funds are gone and they aren’t coming back. While we’re on the subject of money, though, did Noah Parker have any children, relatives of any kind still living?”

  Trevor narrowed his eyes, sent him a dubious look. “Why?”

  Jake explained, “Because Kit wants his family to have every penny of Alana’s estate. It rightly belongs to them anyway.”

  The look on Trevor’s face said he clearly did not believe what he was hearing. “But that amounts to—millions.”

  “Around forty, give or take,” Jake concluded. “It would be more but looks like Jessica got her greedy hands on Alana’s bank accounts after she died. Of course, we have that lump sum too sitting idle in an offshore account. If you want it, say the word, it’s yours.”