by Janie Crouch
“Lexi,” Mac called from the front. “Do I need to put a lock on this door to keep Zimmerman out? I’m trying to run a business here.”
They broke apart laughing, and Lexi rushed to the front, grabbing her tray, Gavin right behind her.
“Sorry, Mac, I had to make a change in my order.” Gavin grinned at the old man as he rushed by.
Mac rolled his eyes. “You two are like a couple of teenagers, I swear.”
Gavin’s laughter rang out, and nearly everyone in the place turned to look at him, Lexi included. What a beautiful sound.
Gavin didn’t seem to notice, just kissed her on the nose, then went back to his seat at his booth.
Lexi took orders and brought everybody’s food out. She flirted with Gavin a little bit more before he announced he had to get back to Linear before he really did get fired. Everyone there was getting ready for Zac and Anne’s destination wedding next week on San Amado, part of the Channel Islands off the coast of California. Gavin had asked Lexi multiple times to come with him as his guest, but she’d said no.
She wanted to say yes. There was so much about it she wanted to say yes to. Seeing her friends get married, warm weather on a tropical island, a chance to snorkel—one of her favorite pastimes, one she hadn’t so much as thought about for the past two years much less done.
And to do it all with Gavin? She couldn’t think of a single thing in the world she’d like more. But that would be pushing it too far, so she’d said no.
She kissed him on the cheek, and he told her he would see her tonight. She grabbed another tray and headed back to the kitchen. She’d barely set it down before someone squawked up front.
“No, I need to see her myself! Where is she?”
Was that Wavy?
Lexi left the tray on the counter and rushed back out front. “What’s going on?”
Gavin and Mac flanked Wavy. She stood there, face ashen, lips trembling between them.
“See?” Mac said. “She’s fine. Right here.”
“Wavy, what the hell is wrong?” Gavin asked.
Wavy ignored them both. She pressed a hand to her stomach and let out a huge breath. “Oh thank God.”
Lexi rushed forward, grabbed Wavy by the arms. “What? What happened?”
Wavy held up her phone. “I— You—” She let the phone drop back to her side as she trailed off.
“What in tarnation is going on here?” Mac threw up his hands. “If you kids drive my blood pressure back up, I’m going to make you all come to my cardiologist appointment and explain.”
“Wavy, I don’t understand.” Lexi squeezed her arms. “Is someone hurt? What happened?”
Wavy still looked shaken. “No. I got your . . . text about us not being able to have dinner and . . . I was concerned.”
Lexi had no idea what text Wavy was talking about. But it was something that was making the normally calm and competent woman act completely erratic.
“You got a text from Lexi?” Gavin asked.
Everybody knew Lexi didn’t have a cell phone.
“I, uh, I meant a message.” Wavy stepped closer to Lexi. “Can I talk to you in the back?”
Mac shook his head and walked off muttering, but Gavin was still looking back and forth between Lexi and Wavy, trying to figure out what was going on.
“Do you want me to stay?” he finally asked.
“No,” Wavy answered for her, voice tight. Then she turned to him with an obviously forced smile. “Girl stuff.”
Not girl stuff, Lexi realized. Alexandra Adams stuff.
Gavin looked ready to argue, protective as ever. Lexi touched his arm. “It’s no big deal. Get back to work before you get fired. I’ll see you tonight.”
He obviously didn’t want to go, but he didn’t have an option when Wavy grabbed Lexi’s arm and pulled her to the back. She didn’t stop until they were in Mac’s office, and Wavy turned and shut the door.
“What?” Lexi asked. “What happened?”
“You’re dead,” Wavy said.
Wavy held up her phone and spun it around so that Lexi could read the news report.
Disgraced former television star Alexandra Adams dies in fire.
Lexi took the phone and read the rest of the article from an entertainment news site. According to the report, she’d died in a meth lab explosion along with two other people.
Great. Not only a fake death, but a drug-related one also.
“The article said they couldn’t identify the bodies yet, but they had a witness who said she saw you go in.” Wavy was pacing back and forth. “I completely freaked out, in spite of it being a gossip rag rather than a legit news source. I thought maybe they’d gotten hold of the story early.”
Lexi reached up to rub the back of her neck where tension had settled. “I can attest I didn’t die in some drug house explosion in . . . where did they say it happened? I didn’t read far enough. LA? New York?”
Wavy took the phone Lexi held out to her. “That’s what really freaked me out. They said it happened in Reddington City.”
Lexi grabbed the phone again. Reddington City?
“What?” Wavy asked.
Oh God. “It’s too close.”
“Too close for what?”
“Just . . . Reddington City is so close. I didn’t expect that.”
The stalker was hunting her again and wanted her to know he’d picked up her trail. He knew she’d been in Reddington City recently. Otherwise orchestrating a fake death there wouldn’t make any sense.
“Since it’s so close, are you going to go and set the record straight? You don’t have to let them know you’re living in Oak Creek.”
That was exactly what the stalker wanted, for Lexi to go out in the open. “No. Law enforcement will figure it out. I’m just going to stay here and keep my head down.”
And pray the stalker didn’t find her.
28
That haunted look was back in Lexi’s eyes. It had been so absent for the past month that Gavin had almost forgotten how difficult it was to see her features pinched and guarded. To see her withdraw in on herself.
She wasn’t sleeping again.
He hadn’t taken for granted one single hour that she’d slept in his arms since Christmas. He’d known her trust was a precious gift and had treated it as such.
And found it highly amusing that it was his stories about being in the army, arguably the most interesting parts of his life, that were quickest to lull her. He was never offended—the exact opposite. He loved that the sound of his voice helped her feel safe enough to rest. Loved that he could in some way help her brain shut off and stop fighting all its demons.
He would tell every story he had, then start making some up like he was a fucking Grimm brother, if it meant she could sleep.
But for the past six days—since Wavy had run into the Eagle’s Nest in a panic—sleep had been nearly nonexistent for Lexi.
At first, he’d thought the two women had gotten into some sort of fight, but he’d seen them both since, and there hadn’t been any ill feelings toward one another. They’d chatted, smiled, even hugged.
But something had triggered both women that day. Wavy had seemed convinced Lexi was . . . what? Hurt? Dead? And she’d refused to accept his or Mac’s word that she was fine, insisting on seeing Lexi herself.
Why?
As always, it came back to Lexi’s secrets.
He was done with them. Her secrets were costing too high a price, and Lexi was paying it with her physical and emotional health. This couldn’t continue.
It wasn’t about him needing to know all the details for his own curiosity. This was about him being able to protect the woman he was falling in love with.
He could barely admit these feelings to himself, much less share them with her, until he knew she was safe from whatever haunted her.
But right now, his hands were tied for a few days. He was on his way out of town for Zac and Anne’s wedding. The whole Linear crew was on their way
to Reddington City to take a plane to the island off the coast of California, courtesy of country music superstar—and friend—Cade Conner.
But Gavin had a separate stop to make first. He pulled into the same garage he’d used on Christmas Day with Lexi. Tristan’s truck was already here at Dad’s house, although nobody else was.
As expected, Gavin found his brother in the kitchen making himself a sandwich. The guy was thirty, but he and Andrew both still ate like they were on the high school football team.
Gavin slapped him on the shoulder as he walked by. “You are nothing if not predictable, Tits.”
Tristan took another bite and rolled his eyes at the nickname that had stemmed from their mother’s love of the musical A Chorus Line. The song “Dance: Ten; Looks: Three” with its iconic chorus about “tits and ass” had immediately become Gavin’s nickname for his brothers, since their names began with T and A.
“Ian says he’s going to bill you by the hour, that I’m one of his best men, and you’re going to cause his company to go under.”
“Right. Tell DeRose I’ll come bail him out of the poorhouse when that happens.”
Which wouldn’t be anytime soon. Ian DeRose was a billionaire. He might choose to work on the frontline for Zodiac Tactical, his security company, but it wasn’t because he needed the paycheck.
Tristan took a bite of his sandwich. “What’s up, Uncle Gabbin?”
“I’m heading out this afternoon to the Channel Islands for Zac and Anne’s wedding. I’ll be gone for four days.”
“Okay, good for them. I assume I’m not invited because Zac’s still butt-hurt over the fact that Andrew and I won’t join Linear.”
“Probably. But I need you here anyway.” Gavin grabbed himself a water bottle out of the fridge and sat down on one of the kitchen island stools. “I’d like to take you up on the offer you and Andrew made at Christmas.”
Tristan set down his sandwich. “Lexi.”
“Did you already look into her?”
“No, but only out of deepest respect for you, believe me. We were both beyond tempted.”
“I appreciate it. But it’s time. Past time. I don’t want to wait until after this weekend. I’m hoping that by the time I’m back, you’ll have actionable intel.”
“No problem, I’m on it. What made you change your mind? Trouble with her?”
“I can’t protect her if I don’t know what I’m up against. Something definitely has a chokehold on her, and it’s time to eliminate that.” He slid his phone over to Tristan and tapped the screen. “I’ll send you the picture. But start with this guy.”
“Who’s he?”
“He’s the guy she pays in cash once a month.” Gavin had followed her again two days ago. This time, he’d made sure to get good photos of the man she met with.
“Does he give her anything for the cash?”
Gavin shook his head. “No. It’s not a sale. I don’t know what it is.”
“Blackmail?” Tristan studied the picture.
“That’s what I’m thinking.” And if that was the case, it was going to stop.
“All right, I’m on it.”
“Also, I know this is below your pay grade, but I need you to dig up any events that happened six days ago.”
Tristan raised an eyebrow. “Any event? Can you be a little more specific?”
Gavin told him about Wavy’s panic at the Eagle’s Nest last week. “Everything was fine until that point, then Lexi’s emotional stability went to shit. It’s not something between the two of them, I checked. I don’t know what it is, but it’s something.”
“That’s still pretty vague.”
“I thought maybe if you IDed the guy in the picture, that might lead to something more specific.”
“Maybe.” Tristan took another bite of his sandwich. “Anything else you can give me?”
Gavin scrubbed a hand down his face. He didn’t want to cross this line, but he was willing to if it meant making sure Lexi was safe.
“Yeah. Three days ago, at oh nine thirty, if you run the phone records on the Eagle’s Nest, I think you might get some info.”
“Now that’s very specific.”
“I stopped by the bar, and Lexi was on the phone in Mac’s office. She saw me and shut the door.”
“That might not mean anything. She could’ve been ordering more booze or something.”
Gavin nodded. “Maybe. Just check it. Between IDing that guy and the phone call, I think you’ll be able to piece something together.”
Tristan let out a sigh. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Gavin? There’s no coming back from this.”
No. “Yes. I have to keep her safe.”
“And you want me to keep an eye on her while you’re at the wedding, don’t you? That’s why we didn’t handle all this over the phone.”
Gavin shot him a grin. “You always were the smartest of my siblings.”
They both laughed at that. Lyn was off-the-charts smart when it came to languages, and Andrew could do complex math equations in his head. Tristan and Gavin were both smart, but not like either of them.
But Tristan’s past was what made him perfect to help right now. Both of them knew it, though they didn’t say it.
“I’ll keep your woman safe, big brother. And hopefully, find some clues as to what the hell is going on.”
Gavin slapped him on the shoulder. “Meanwhile, I’ll be partying my ass off on a tropical island with my buddies.”
Wishing the entire time he was back in Oak Creek.
“Lexi, why don’t you come have a sit-down here with me.”
“I’m working here, Mac.”
“You trying to convince me that bar needs wiping down again? Or that floor needs to be swept again? Or those glasses rearranged? We haven’t had a customer in here damn near all day. Come sit down.”
She didn’t want to sit down. At least doing all that other stuff, she could forget about the five-hundred-pound rock currently residing in her chest.
She glanced over at Gavin’s empty booth again, for the millionth time since he’d left this morning.
“He’s not there.”
Lexi side-eyed Mac. “I’m aware, thanks.” She turned to go back behind the bar.
“Why are you here, Lexi?”
She shook her head with a sigh. “Because this is my job.”
“Come sit down with me.”
“Mac, come on. I don’t want—”
“Sit with me, Alexandra.”
It took a second for the name to register. Then the bottom fell out of the pit of her stomach.
Mac knew.
In all the weeks she’d been here, he’d never given any indication he knew her actual identity. Nothing more than knowing she was associated with Hollywood somehow.
She froze, then walked over and locked the front door so no one else could come in. Wiping her hands on her apron, she took a seat across from Mac at one of the booths.
He slid a magazine toward her, open to a page near the back. “That’s not a very flattering picture of you.”
She glanced down. It was an older picture of her on her way to the courthouse for her trial. “No, the worse the picture is, the more the press likes to run it. How long have you known who I really am?”
“Believe it or not, I just figured it out this week.”
“Markus didn’t tell you when he asked you to give me a job?”
Mac shook his head. “Nope. All he said was he had a former friend who needed a job, no questions asked. I didn’t know if you’d be male or female, black or white, old or young until you showed up.”
She leaned back against the booth with a thump. “Why? Why would you do that?”
Mac shrugged. “Because that’s what you do when family asks you for something. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t seen Markus in probably twenty years, he’s still family.”
“I suppose you want more information about me now. You have questions.”
He folde
d up the magazine and slid it to the side. “No.”
“No? That’s it? Just... no?”
“One thing I’ve learned running this bar over the years, especially since those Linear Tactical people moved into town... sometimes you don’t ask questions.”
Mac ran a hand over his dark, bald head. “Hell, somebody was kidnapped out of our parking lot a couple months ago, and the boys had to go all the way to Egypt to get her back. I didn’t ask any questions. Almost a year ago, a girl came in and shot the fuse box with an arrow. An arrow. Now that was a little tricky explaining to the insurance company, but I did it, and I didn’t ask any questions.”
“So you don’t have questions about me?”
Mac leaned back in the booth and studied her for a long minute. “I watched your show a few times. I liked you as Tia Day. I liked you because you stood up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. You fought evil when other people quit.”
“That was a role, Mac. I was just the actress.”
“Maybe. But I think there was a lot of you in that role.”
Lexi reached over and tapped the magazine on the side of the table. “And what about this? You know why I was going to the courthouse that day? Do you know why I went to prison?”
“I think you made a shitty decision. You aren’t the first person in the world to do that, and you won’t be the last. I think you did your time, you learned from it”—he tapped the magazine—“and that’s not who you are anymore, literally or figuratively.”
“You’re a lot quicker to forgive than most people.” She grabbed the magazine and opened it up to the pages about her again. It was about her “death” last week. As usual, the article was slanted. Carefully selected “facts” strung together to make her look as bad as possible. They’d made it sound like it was her fault. That she’d deliberately faked her own death, once again trying to get attention.
Mac slid the paper from her. “It’s those people’s job to keep as much drama floating around as possible. Their opinion doesn’t matter.”
That they could agree on. She nodded. “Their opinion doesn’t matter to me, not anymore. But they’re not the only people who have a low opinion of me. Or would if they knew the truth.”