by Marta Perry
“Don’t worry,” he said, more to fill the silence than because he thought the words would actually do any good. “I’m checking you into a secure hotel in Billings. You’ll be safe there.”
She shook her head but not in negation, more as if to shake off his words. “It doesn’t matter.”
Her voice had lost its music. She sounded defeated. He’d been too relieved that she was actually letting him get her to a safe place to react to the pain she must be feeling.
He didn’t know what to say. He watched as she dropped her jacket on the sofa. She looked around the room as if she’d never been there before.
“I’m sorry.” He was, not that it did any good. “I don’t want to rush you, but if you just throw some things in a bag—”
She nodded, walking toward the stairs. “It won’t take long.”
“Take as much time as you need.”
Protocol said to get her under wraps as quickly as possible, but his instinct overrode that. He couldn’t hurry her, not now. She was too fragile at this point. She moved slowly up the stairs, holding on to the railing like an old woman. Once she disappeared, he let out the breath he’d been holding. Pulling out his phone, he called Phillips.
“Are you on the road yet?” Phillips asked abruptly.
“We’re at her house. She’s packing what she needs. No sign that anyone’s been in here.”
“They’re probably long gone. It’s too bad you couldn’t get a description of the vehicle. At least we could have set up roadblocks.”
He gritted his teeth. There was no answer to that. If he’d been a few steps quicker, he might have a description. All his attention had been on Jade. When he’d seen her go down, his heart had stopped.
Apparently taking his silence for agreement, Phillips went on. “Get her here as soon as possible. Your brother is waiting to sit in on the questioning.”
“Right.”
He let himself think about the woman named Eloise and the story Jackson had told him. Eloise. What on earth did she have to do with the attacks on Ruby and Jade?
Given the emotion Micah had sensed in him, he’d just bet Jackson wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon.
“Call when you’re on the road.” Phillips cut the connection abruptly. Micah pocketed his cell and paced across the room. The window had been repaired. Obviously Herb Trask had been on the job.
Someone had put the curio shelf back up on the wall, though there were no crystal bells on it. All in all, the room looked as if the turmoil of the past few days had never happened. It was as neat and orderly as it had been the morning he’d stepped inside to tell Jade her sister was dead.
And changed her life in the process. No, not him. He couldn’t blame himself for that. The shooters would have come after her anyway, for a reason none of them understood.
Still, he got that he was connected in her mind, probably irrevocably, with the chaos that had taken over her life. She’d probably never stop seeing him that way. Chaos. That was the word Ruby had used to describe the twins’ early lives with their mother. Jade had gotten away from that, through a process more difficult than he could imagine. And now it had descended upon her again. He could picture her as a young girl, taking refuge in the library where she could read stories about happy middle-class families, doing all the things he’d taken for granted. And then she’d gone home to find her mother drunk and no food in the house. Or worse. Jade’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. She came down slowly, carrying a small suitcase and a laptop bag. He met her and took the bags from her.
“Is there anything else you need?” His gaze swept the room. “Anything else that will make you more comfortable in a hotel room?”
Some of the life came back into her eyes. “I’ll take some books.”
“I can pick up something new and bring them to you,” he offered, counting the seconds until they were on the road toward Billings.
She bent over her bookshelves. “I’d rather have some old friends.” She ran her fingers along the volumes tenderly, as if they really were friends. She didn’t hurry. Looked at one, put it back, pulled out another. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Phillips would be irate that this was taking so long. And he ought to be preparing Jade for the questioning she’d face once he got her to Billings.
But he had the strongest sense that this process was important, even crucial, to her. Books had been her refuge in childhood. She was turning to them again now, in this time of crisis, seeking the security and order that were missing in her real life.
He forced himself to stand still. To wait patiently. And reflected that seeing the particular books she chose might tell him a lot about her, if he could get a look at the titles. Finally, holding four books in the crook of her arm, she walked back to him.
“Would you like me to take those?”
She shook her head, seeming to retire again into that blankness that must be a protection for her.
“Nothing else you want to take?”
She crossed to the sofa and picked up the afghan that lay across its back, folding it and adding it to the stack with the books. She stood, looking around the room, and her gaze seemed to linger on the empty shelf against the far wall.
“I’m sorry about your bell collection. They must have meant a lot to you.”
He meant it as an opening, but she just shook her head. Whatever it was about the bells that had made her weep, she wasn’t going to share it with him. She slipped on her jacket, zipped it and picked up the books and afghan, along with her bag. “I’m ready.” Her tone was expressionless.
When they reached the door, she stopped, staring back at the room.
“Will I ever be able to come back to this life?” She tilted her head back to look at him, and her green eyes were glazed with tears.
The sight cut him to the heart. He wanted to reassure her, but he had no reassurance to give that would be honest.
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
She nodded and marched out the door.
NINE
The numbness was starting to wear off. Jade pressed her fingers to her forehead, staring out the vehicle’s window as they rolled past miles of snow-covered countryside. Each mile took her farther from everything that was dear to her and closer to a murky future.
“Are you all right?” Micah’s voice was warm with concern. “I know this has to be hard for you.”
“Hard? Giving up everything I love about my life? Yes, you could say that.”
She was instantly ashamed that she was taking it out on him, although there was no change in Micah’s expression. He still wore that neutral cop’s mask that didn’t give away anything of the man behind it.
She shook her head. “Sorry. I know it’s not your fault.”
“I’m here.” He sent her a sidelong smile. “You need to take it out on someone.”
She couldn’t return the smile. She could only stare at her clasped hands.
“Why?” The word burst from her. “Why? I don’t understand why this is happening to me. I’m not guilty of anything.”
I’m the innocent one in the family. That was what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. Maybe she hadn’t broken any laws, but even so, could she claim to be guiltless?
“You mean, why does God let good people be hurt?”
Micah’s strong hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I guess that bothers me, too. I see too much of it in my work.”
“What do you do about it?” She studied his sharply chiseled profile. “How do you make sense of it?”
“I’m not sure I always do.” This time his smile was wry. The cop mask was off, at least for the moment. “I’m not some kind of super-Christian, Jade. I just know that we live in a fallen world where bad things happen. But one thing I’m sure of—God can bring good out of even the bad things that happen to us.”
She let that filter through her mind. “It’s hard to see anything good coming out of Ruby’s death.”
“I didn’
t say it would happen immediately.”
“Or ever?” She challenged him, suddenly wanting to dent that assurance of his.
“Ever is a long time. See how you feel once things are back to normal.”
“Right now it’s hard to imagine my life will ever be normal.” Fresh pain knifed through her.
“I don’t want to promise what I can’t deliver, but I believe we’re going to solve this.” He hesitated. “I think I understand what your home means to you. I have a place like that, too.”
“Really?” That surprised her, somehow. “I thought men weren’t as attached to their homes as women.”
“Don’t you believe that.” He nodded toward a house and barn that sat on the left side of the road, sheltered by pines. “That place reminds me of mine. You drive back a lane a half mile or so, and you come to my little holding—a small house, barn, shed, a few acres. It’s not much, but it’s mine.”
If she’d thought about it at all, she’d have pictured him living in a rented, furnished condo in Billings.
“How do you keep up with a place like that? It seems to me you’re always working.”
“I don’t do it as well as I’d like to,” he admitted. “My neighbor’s a retired cop, living his dream of running a few cattle. He helps out with my animals.”
“Animals, too.” This was a side of Micah she hadn’t imagined. Lawman, Christian, rancher—what else?
“More than I should have, I guess. Two horses, a dog, a couple of goats, a dozen steers. Jesse, that’s my neighbor, wanted to give me some piglets, but I drew the line at that.”
“Even so, it sounds like quite a menagerie. You must be fond of animals to take on that many.”
“Guilty. In fact, I once planned on becoming a veterinarian.” He paused for a heartbeat. “I changed my plans when my father was killed.”
She’d wondered if his father’s death had anything to do with his career. Here was the answer.
“Do you ever regret the decision?”
He pondered that for a moment. “I don’t think I regret it. Sometimes—well, I see people like my brother, who seem to have been born for the job. Makes me think I’m missing something. But regret? No. I like being one of the good guys.”
He was that. Despite her occasional anger at him and the resentment that sprang up without warning, she didn’t doubt who he was at heart. One of the good guys.
She’d like to say that, but somehow she couldn’t. It would be too personal, and they shouldn’t venture into that territory.
The buildings of Billings were visible on the horizon, a reminder that this ride would soon be over. It had been a comforting respite from all the ugliness that had invaded her life, but now she had to face it.
She nodded toward the city on the horizon. “What will happen when we get there?” She tried not to sound apprehensive, but she suspected she didn’t fool Micah.
“You’ll need to talk to the investigators who are working the case.” He paused. “My half brother, Jackson McGraw, wants to talk with you, as well. He’s a Special Agent with the FBI in Chicago, specializing in organized crime.”
Micah had a brother in the FBI. She digested that.
“Why Chicago? I mean, why is he interested in what’s happening here?”
“It may tie in with a case he’s working on.” Micah didn’t sound evasive, precisely, but clearly he wouldn’t be as open about anything professional as he had been about his spiritual life.
“I still don’t see how I can help. I don’t know anything. I can’t begin to imagine why those people are after me.”
“Sometimes the most inconsequential thing can be important.” He stared at the road, not at her, as traffic thickened. “For instance, there’s the thing I’d wanted to talk with you about, before this latest attack.”
She’d nearly forgotten. That worry had been swallowed up in larger ones. “Just say it, whatever it is.”
“A name popped out at me when I was looking through some old background records on Ruby. Do you remember a man named Georgie Messina?”
“I don’t think…you mean, Uncle Georgie?” The name came back to her from more years than she could immediately count. “He was a friend of our mother’s, not Ruby’s?”
“‘Uncle’ Georgie?” His tone put the word in quotes.
“He must have been pretty close if you called him that.”
“Not really. All of Mom’s boyfriends were ‘uncles,’ at least until she fell out with them.” The words left a bad taste in her mouth.
“Georgie Messina wasn’t anyone special, then?”
She hugged her jacket around herself. Funny, this need she had for comfort whenever she had to talk about the old days. “He was good to Ruby and me. Not like some of them. He’d always bring a couple of pizzas when he came over, and he always remembered what we liked on them. Why? What could that have to do with Ruby’s death? We couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve at the time.”
“Uncle Georgie ran numbers for the Mob.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have. Ruby might. She was more streetwise than I was. But even so, it was years ago.”
“Like I said, some things seem to have meaning and don’t. Some are coincidental or completely irrelevant, but we have to weed through them to get to the truth.”
“So that’s the kind of thing they’ll want to ask me.” A shiver snaked down her spine as she thought about the upcoming interview.
“Could be. Just don’t be alarmed if they want to go over things again and again.”
In other words, she was in for a grilling. It was kind of him to try to prepare her. But then, that kindness was one of the things she recognized in him, in spite of the barrier his profession put between them.
She studied Micah as he negotiated the increasing traffic going into the city. Strange, how close she’d come to this strong, dedicated man in such a short time. Before she met him, she’d lived a cautious life, wary of others, unwilling to trust.
Her relationship with Micah had happened very quickly. It would end just as fast.
The interview with Jade had been going on too long. Her pallor and the circles under her eyes alarmed Micah. True, no one had been openly antagonistic, but they’d taken her through her story so many times, asking questions from a slightly different angle, that it would be an ordeal for anyone.
She’d been through a lot in the past few days. His hands grasped the edge of the conference table. In a moment he’d have to interfere.…
His gaze met that of his brother. He didn’t think he gave anything away, but Jackson seemed to probe his face and come to a conclusion.
“I think we’ve done as much as we can today.” Jackson’s level voice cut short a question from Micah’s boss. “Ms. Summers is probably more than ready for a break.”
Arthur Phillips looked annoyed for an instant, but then his expression smoothed over. “Of course. We appreciate your willingness to help, Ms. Summers.”
Jade didn’t even attempt to smile. That was probably beyond her at the moment. “I can’t see that I’ve been much help.”
“We never know what information will pay off in the long run.” Jackson gave her the catch-all answer. “Deputy Marshal McGraw will take you to your hotel and see that you’re settled, if you wouldn’t mind waiting for a few minutes for him.” His tone made it clear that she didn’t really have an option.
“Fine,” she murmured. She didn’t slump in her seat, but he’d guess it took an effort to keep her spine straight.
“Maybe we can get you some coffee while you wait?”
Jackson glanced at Phillips, who in turn looked at Mac Sellers, who’d been making notes.
Mac started to rise.
“No, thank you anyway.” She frowned at the foam cup on the table. “I’ve had enough coffee. I’ll just wait.”
“Very good.” Jackson collected the rest of them with his gaze, and they left the interview room.
“Guess you want me to start transcribing this.” At a nod from Phillips, Mac headed for his desk with his notes and the recorder.
“Let’s go over our impressions while they’re fresh in our minds.” Jackson led the way into Phillips’s office and raised his eyebrows at the older man. “Your thoughts?”
“On the face of it, there’s no way to connect Jade Summers with the Mob at all.” Phillips sounded as if he resented that fact. “So why are they after her? As for the gunman calling her by the name of a woman who once testified against the Martino family—” He shook his head, glaring at Micah. “Are you sure that happened?”
“It was overheard by a half dozen witnesses.” He kept his voice calm, knowing that Phillips’s irritation was caused by the frustration they all felt.
“And that’s another thing.” Phillips drove a hand through his thinning hair. “What kind of Mafia hit man kidnaps a victim in a library in front of witnesses? This sounds more like amateur hour.”
“It’s certainly not the usual MO,” Jackson said smoothly, intercepting any reply from Micah. “I’ve told you about the old case. If Vincent Martino is after the woman who put his father away, which would fit with what my informant says about him wanting to pay tribute to his dying father, why would they attack Ruby? I suppose you could argue that Ruby led them to Jade, but how could Ruby be connected? The only thing is…”
He let the sentence fade, unusual for him. Micah’s attention sharpened on his brother’s face.
“What is it? Do you see a connection?”
“Not a connection, exactly. But I noticed Jade’s eyes. Green. I suppose Ruby had the same. Eloise had green eyes.”
Phillips gave a grunt of frustration. “Vincent Martino may not be the most sensible of men, but even he can’t think to avenge his father by killing all the green-eyed women in Montana. And why would he think Eloise is here at all? You said she dropped out of sight after the attack that injured her baby. She could be anywhere.”