Danger in Deer Ridge (Blackthorne, Inc.)

by Terry Odell

  “Let’s go outside,” Grinch said. “We’ll run through a few of the basics, and get him used to accepting you as another alpha dog before we try anything serious.”

  “I hate to demote him.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re just one more member of the pack, and he likes knowing his place.”

  “I suppose it helps that I gave him a treat.”

  “Actually, when he’s working, his reward isn’t food.” Grinch displayed a short circle of rope. “He loves tug of war. When he’s good, he gets to play.”

  Elizabeth followed Grinch’s instructions as they ran Chester through what she considered normal dog tricks.

  “Okay,” Grinch said after a while. “I’m going inside. You’re on your own.” He handed her the rope. “About ten more minutes should be plenty.”

  Elizabeth waved the soggy piece of braided cotton. “All right, Chester. It’s you and me.”

  The theme from James Bond blared from Grinch’s belt. His eyes widened, although he was clearly trying not to react. She stood there, the rope dangling from her fingertips as Grinch took the call.

  He listened for a moment, then grasped her hand. Phone to his ear, he trotted for the house, half-dragging her with him.

  * * * * *

  Grinch tried to give Elizabeth a reassuring smile, but her hand was cold in his as they marched down the hall to the den.

  “Hang on, Jinx,” he said. “I’m putting you on speaker. Elizabeth is here.” He set the phone on the desk. “Okay. Take it from the top.”

  With Jinx’s quiet acknowledgement of Elizabeth’s presence, Grinch noticed the shift in Jinx’s tone. Although he was always calm when he ran an op, there was a more formal undertone with a civilian on the line.

  “Victor Vaughn hired an investigator who managed to find proof that Julie Ann—Elizabeth—is alive.”

  Elizabeth paled. “How? Grace would never tell. No matter what.”

  “No, she wouldn’t,” Jinx said. “He had other sources.”

  “What sources?” Elizabeth asked.

  Grinch tapped Elizabeth’s hand, shook his head, and led her to the recliner, moving the phone to the end table. “Let Jinx finish.”

  She clutched the arms of the chair and stared at the phone. “If he knows I’m alive, he’s not going to stop until he finds me. We have to leave. Right away.”

  Grinch rested his hand on her shoulder. “Running without thinking things through won’t work.”

  “Grinch is right,” Jinx said. “For now, our guy wants a list of everything you did, every place you stopped, from the time you left your husband. It’ll help him find any weak spots.”

  Elizabeth leaned toward the phone. “I’ll try.”

  “Whatever you have,” Jinx said. “I’ll be watching for it. For now, hang tight a little longer. It’s possible we can throw a false trail. And we might find he’s not looking in the right place. Grace was—is—an expert at the disappearing act, and she would have covered all the bases, including contingency plans.”

  Grinch sensed Elizabeth’s rising panic. “Jinx, keep us up to speed. Regular sitreps, okay? We’ll get the information to you. Let us know when you get the ledger.”

  “Roger that.”

  Grinch cut the connection.

  “Sitrep?” she asked.

  “Situation report.”

  Elizabeth stood and paced the room. He intercepted her, gathered her into his arms. “It’s okay, Lizzie. Nothing is going to happen to you. Or Will.”

  “I should have paid more attention. Maybe I missed something Grace told me to do. Or I did something she told me not to do.”

  She was slipping into defensive mode. He held her tighter. “What you did or didn’t do doesn’t matter now. With the information you give them, I’m sure Blackthorne’s investigators will reconstruct whatever trail Victor’s PI used, and we’ll plan accordingly.”

  “What about the boys? Should we get them? In case someone comes after them?”

  “No. Nobody’s coming today, and even if someone tried, the camp won’t release them to anyone but us. They’re fine.”

  She was quiet for a moment, as if she were trying to see every possibility. Which was good, because it meant she was thinking like Elizabeth again, not Julie Ann.

  “You’re right,” she said at last. “Dylan doesn’t need to have his world yanked out from under him. Not when he’s starting to settle in. Will would understand, but he likes it here. I’d want time to prepare him before we move again.”

  “You’re not going to have to move. We’re going to fix this, no matter what. Now, why don’t you get started on that list.” He handed her a legal tablet.

  He found her a few minutes later, sitting at the kitchen table, now covered with a layer of receipts. She picked one up, studied it, and wrote something on the tablet.

  “Those aren’t credit card receipts, are they?” he asked.

  She gaped at him as if he had three heads. “I’m not that stupid. No, I paid cash for everything. I didn’t keep receipts until after Grace set up my disappearance, though, because she gave me some money, and I intend to pay her back. Before that, it’s a matter of trusting my memory.”

  “Once you get them down, I’ll put them on a spreadsheet. Make it easier to sort. Or, I can work on entering the receipts while you work on your memory.”

  She frowned. “Should speed things up,” he added.

  That tipped the balance. She scooped the slips of paper into a bundle and handed them over. “Thanks.”

  Twenty minutes later, he’d entered dates and locations. Elizabeth had been sensible as well as frugal. Most of her purchases were basic essentials, with only the occasional “luxury” items, such as a few toys, art supplies, and books.

  He added the information Elizabeth had given him and emailed it all to Jinx. “That’s it.”

  “Do you think it’ll help?”

  “Of course it will.”

  “So what now?”

  “We wait for an update.”

  “That’s it? We sit around and wait?” Her trembling voice rose half an octave.

  He drew her close. “Sometimes you have to trust people who have more resources than you do.”

  She shrugged out of his arms. “You wait. I’m going to pack.” She stopped at the door and met his gaze. “You agreed. It’s better to be prepared.”

  “Lizzie, wait.”

  But she was already racing upstairs.

  He went to follow, then stopped. If packing gave her something to do, so be it. Upstairs, a door snicked shut. Drawers opened and closed. Bedsprings creaked. Then silence.

  Damn, with Elizabeth out of the room, he should be calling Jinx back. There had to be something he knew that he hadn’t wanted her to hear. But it was as if Elizabeth held some strange magnetic force, and his chest was a mass of iron filings. He went upstairs.

  He paused at her closed door, listening. To the muffled yet unmistakable sounds of a woman crying. He should go back downstairs. He didn’t do tears.

  He tapped on the door. Silence.

  He tapped again. “Lizzie?” Sniffling. Shuffling footfalls.

  The door opened. Elizabeth stood there, wiping red-rimmed eyes. “What?” She pivoted and retreated into the room. “Because unless it’s important, I don’t want you in here.”

  “It is important. To me.” He crossed to her side and enveloped her in his embrace. “You are important. To me.”

  He felt her crumple against him, only the slightest tremors of her shoulders telling him she was crying. He lowered himself, and her, to the bed. “Aw, Lizzie. Please don’t cry. I said it and I meant it. Nothing is going to happen to you or Will.”

  “You can’t promise that.” She straightened and rubbed her eyes. “But thanks for the offer. I know you’ll try.”

  “Lizzie, listen to me. You can’t keep running. Let’s say you evade Victor this time. You yourself said he wouldn’t give up. Better to stay here and deal with it than spend your
life on the run. Think of Will.” He kissed the top of her head. “But keeping a packed overnight bag can’t hurt.” Especially if it made her feel more in control.

  His phone rang. Not James Bond, but his standard ring. Elizabeth stiffened. He checked the display. “Unknown Caller.”

  Lifting an index finger to Elizabeth, he turned away and flipped it open. “Grinciewicz.”

  “This is Thad Henderson with Blackthorne. Jinx gave me your number.”

  “You want to verify that for me, please?”

  “I’m not one of you hotshot covert ops folks with all your fancy codes and passwords. Of course, if I were, I’d probably say something like watermelon. Or maybe I’d ask you to prove you’re who you say you are. Then again, if someone else was answering your phone, I doubt they’d be able to pronounce your name.”

  Grinch had to smile. And Henderson did get the code word right. “Good enough. You have something?”

  “You mean beside a headache and a bad case of eyestrain? Yeah, I think I found a link. Any decent PI could have tracked her to the shelter.” Papers rustled in the background. “Galloway House. Not saying they’re not discreet, but their circles run wide, and there’s always a pair of loose lips somewhere if you’ve got the patience to search for it. But from there, it gets trickier. Once she moved in with Grace Ellsworth, she effectively disappeared.”

  Grinch didn’t think Henderson would have called to tell him there was nothing to worry about. But he recognized the type—the man needed some affirmation of his talents.

  “You mentioned a link,” Grinch said. “I assume you’re talking about a connection between the identities of Julie Ann and Elizabeth.”

  At that, Elizabeth came to Grinch’s side, her eyes demanding answers. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to hear what Henderson had to say—at least not until he’d heard it first. He gestured for her to wait.

  She glowered, shook her head, and stepped closer. “It’s my life you’re talking about.”

  He relented. “All right. Thad, I’m putting this on speaker so Elizabeth can hear.”

  “No problem. The house she’s renting. Ownership has more layers than my grandmother’s chocolate cake, but ultimately, Grace Ellsworth owns it.”

  Grinch’s surprise lasted barely a heartbeat. “And whoever took her computer probably unearthed that tidbit.”

  “Hell, I did it without her computer. But then, I had a better starting point, since I knew where she was. But yeah, the fact that someone took Grace Ellsworth’s computer means it’s possible they would discover the properties and check into the tenants. On the bright side, she owns half a dozen places, all over the country, and unless these guys have some good intel, they’re going to have to investigate all of them. Depending on how many operatives he’s using, it could take a while.”

  “They’d have to connect Elizabeth Parker to Julie Ann Vaughn, though. All the rental paperwork is in the name of Elizabeth Parker, right?” Grinch said.

  “True. And if Grace Ellsworth is as good as everyone says she is, she wouldn’t have any documentation of the identity switch on her computer. She filed her reports with old man Blackthorne personally, and I don’t think anyone can get into his files. Not even me. No way Yancy could.”

  Grinch wondered if Henderson had tried. It wouldn’t surprise him.

  “Who’s Yancy?” Elizabeth asked, looking around, panic filling her eyes, as if someone might be lurking outside the room.

  “Disgruntled former employee,” Grinch said. “Don’t worry. They’ve got it covered.”

  “We do,” Thad said. “The boss is on top of it. I don’t think there’s any immediate danger. If someone’s on the way, we’ll know about it, and we’ll let you know immediately. Keep your cell phones handy.”

  “Right now, thanks to a lucky lightning strike, the rental is empty,” Grinch said. “Elizabeth is staying here. We’ll be fine.”

  “If she’s with one of Blackthorne’s elite, I know she will. I’ll get to work on that spreadsheet.” A quiet knock came through the phone. “Hang on one sec.” After some muffled conversation, Henderson came back on the line. “Your ledger arrived.”

  “Can you figure out what it means?” Elizabeth asked.

  Another pause, and the sound of pages flipping. “Not off the top of my head, no. I’ll send it down to the geeks who decipher stuff and get back to you.”

  “Thanks, man,” Grinch said.

  “No problem. In the meanwhile, Ms. Parker, be aware of prying eyes. Especially ones with cameras in front of them.”

  Chapter 26

  Elizabeth fought another onslaught of tears as Grinch ended the call. Crying served no purpose. Bad enough Grinch had caught her once. She took a few breaths, making sure her voice wouldn’t quiver before she spoke. “What’s next?”

  “We set up a contingency plan. And hope we don’t need it.”

  Planning. Planning wasn’t sitting around waiting for Victor to show up. Planning was doing. She could deal with that.

  Grinch took the legal pad she’d been using and turned to a fresh sheet. “You said Victor wouldn’t stop until he found you. Is it because of what you took?”

  “I don’t think it would matter. I’m his, and if I’m alive, he’d have to deal with explaining why I ran off with his son. I’d bet that he’s more upset we’re not dead, because the grieving widower would give him status points in the community. It’s a lot harder to put a positive spin on me picking up and leaving.” She thought for a moment. “Of course, it’s probably just the ledger, not us, anyway. How long do you think it’ll take your people to decipher the ledger? It might hold something for us to use as leverage. Some kind of swap—we’d agree to go our separate ways.”

  “I don’t know. Depends on how busy they are and what kind of priority the boss is putting on this case. Frankly, I’m surprised that Jinx is as involved as he is, since he doesn’t work for the investigative branch of Blackthorne.”

  “Wouldn’t that mean it’s a higher priority?”

  “Either that or things are quiet enough so Zeke—he’s Blackthorne’s other controller—can handle them.” Grinch stared off into space for a moment.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “Something Jinx said a while back. That he thought the boss might have a personal interest in this case.”

  “That’s understandable. If one of his former employees is involved, I can see why he’d want to do something about it.”

  “I think that’s only part of it. When Jinx mentioned the personal interest, it was before they found out about Yancy.”

  “It can’t be because of me. Can it?”

  Did she detect a flush spreading up Grinch’s neck?

  “No, not you. Grace. There’s sort of an undercurrent of speculation that they have a … history.”

  “Is that so strange?” she asked.

  His flush deepened. “No, I guess not. Just a weird thought. Horace Blackthorne is always so … formal. Proper. No nonsense.”

  “Horace?”

  Grinch nodded.

  “Would he go by ‘H’?”

  “I don’t know. All I ever call him is ‘Sir.’ Dalton calls him Blackie, but that’s because they’re some sort of distant cousins. Why?”

  “Probably nothing. But I did overhear a couple of phone conversations where she called someone ‘H’ and her voice got a little … you know, dreamy.”

  Grinch swiped his hand over his eyes. “I didn’t need to hear that. It’s kind of like finding out your parents actually had sex.”

  She flashed onto what she and Grinch had done and her own face flushed. “Well, if Grace’s H was your Horace Blackthorne, I can understand him wanting to find out who hurt her. And if it is connected to me, then I’m glad for that. But not for Grace. I’d rather Victor find me than have anything bad happen to her.”

  “If my boss is pulling out the stops, you can be sure he’ll get the whole story. And he’ll make sure you’re protected. If you were
one of Grace’s, then you’re one of his.”

  Hearing it helped, but didn’t make her feel safe. “Can we get back to planning?”

  “Right.” Grinch picked up a pen. “Thad’s confident your identity as Elizabeth Parker can’t be connected to Julie Ann. That means if Victor’s guy found Grace’s rental properties, and there are six of them, he’s going to have to get a visual of the tenant in each one. That’s going to take time. Or lots of manpower.”

  “I should have had plastic surgery,” she mumbled. “Tell me again why I shouldn’t go somewhere else.” She flapped her hand. “Never mind. I understand. But I feel like a sitting duck.”

  “What we do,” Grinch said, “if we have to hide for a bit, is not leave any evidence that you’re gone. If your car is missing, that’s a red flag. If your belongings are gone, that’s a red flag. If your bank account is cancelled—”

  “Red flags all over the place. I get it. I get it. I abandoned almost everything I owned when I left Victor, remember, so he wouldn’t suspect I’d gone. But now, I’m an ordinary citizen who happens to bear an uncanny resemblance to Julie Ann Vaughn and who happens to have a kid who bears an uncanny resemblance to Will Vaughn.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “So, tell me again why I shouldn’t be worried.”

  Grinch smiled. Not a patronizing, condescending, what-an-air-headed-woman smile. No, it was an “I understand, and it’ll be all right” kind of smile. A make-you-feel-safe kind of smile.

  He tapped his pen on the desk. “Worried is okay. Cautious is good. It’s wild, blind panic that will trip you up every time.”

  As if you could turn panic off like a light switch. She tried to keep up with what he was saying. “Wait. You said we might have to hide for a bit. When? Where?”

  “Contingency plan, remember? We hope not at all.”

  “So what do we do? Make open-ended reservations at some obscure motel? Have them hold a couple of rooms in case we need them?”

  “Maybe. Something like that.”

  If someone’s tone ever said, I’m not telling because you won’t like it, Grinch’s did.