by LENA DIAZ,
“Looks like you need it now.” He sighed heavily.
He shifted the phone to his other ear. “Hayley needs clothes, toiletries—”
“What about you?” Mason interrupted, always putting his Seekers first. “What do you need?”
“Just for Bryson to take care of my dogs, especially Denali. He watches them when I’m out of town so they know him. I’ve got clothes and stuff here for me. I’ll be fine. But Hayley needs pretty much everything. Her cabin’s a crime scene. And knowing Sampson, she’s got a few uniforms watching Hayley’s house in Pigeon Forge, so that’s off-limits, too. Maybe Brielle can pick up stuff at a store and bring it here?” Hayley gave him a grateful smile. “I’ll text her a shopping list after this call.”
He spoke to Mason a few more minutes, discussing strategies and what to do next. “When Brielle comes with Hayley’s things, can you have her bring dinner? There’s nothing to eat here.”
He ended the call and worked with Hayley on the list of what she needed. After texting it to Brielle, he put his phone away.
“This is really happening, isn’t it?” Hayley asked.
He crossed to her and held out his hand. “Come on. We’ve done all we can for now. The other Justice Seekers will handle it from here. Let me take you on the grand tour of my little two-bedroom, two-bath hideaway. Then we can veg out in front of the TV and break out my video collection of old movies. There’s no cable or internet. It’s the best I can offer.”
She took his hand. “Sounds like a perfect first date to me.”
He grinned. “First date, huh? How many bases do I get to round on the first date?”
“That’s for you to find out, I suppose.”
“Then let’s get this tour over with and get to the finding out part.” He winked and tugged her down the hall.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The cabin tour was even shorter than Dalton had anticipated. After showing her the master bedroom off the back corner of the house and heading back into the hallway, Hayley let him know, through glances, smiles, and the unsubtle trailing of her fingers down his arm, that a tour wasn’t what she wanted right now.
She wanted him.
All the tension, fear, and emotional turmoil had caught up with both of them. They shared a heated kiss, two starving souls, wanting and needing the connection they both shared but had been trying to deny for so long.
By the time they stumbled their way to the main room again, they were wrapped up in each other’s arms, sharing passionate kisses and frenzied caresses like a couple of horny teenagers. As things got more heated, he frantically began working on the buttons of her blouse, craving the touch of skin on skin. She worked just as enthusiastically at his belt buckle, making him suck in a sharp breath when her warm hands bumped against the hard ridge in his jeans.
Brielle. He needed to stall her, tell her to take her time before coming to the cabin. But just as the thought occurred to him, the sound of an engine and tires crunching on gravel out front told him it was too late.
He groaned with disappointment and broke their kiss. Sitting up, he pulled her with him, then went to work refastening his buckle.
Her swollen lips and passion-glazed eyes had him grinning with male satisfaction. “You are so ridiculously beautiful, you know that?”
Her lips curved in a sexy smile. “You haven’t seen my best attributes yet.” She slid a hand down her generous half-exposed breasts, barely contained behind her sagging blouse.
He groaned again. “You’re killing me.”
Her smile grew.
Three rapid knocks on the door were followed by, “Hurry up, cowboy. This stuff is heavy.”
She gasped and jumped up, her fingers flying across the buttons on her shirt.
He gave her another quick kiss, then stood, grimacing at the tightness of his pants. “Unfortunately I have to let Brielle in or she’ll probably shoot me.”
Her eyes widened. She started finger-combing her hair.
He laughed at her adorable efforts to compose herself and strode to the door. When he opened it, Brielle shoved a huge brown paper sack into his arms.
“Make yourself useful for a change.”
He stepped back to let her in. “Nice to see you, too.”
“Yeah, whatever. Got me runnin’ around town bein’ a gopher of all things when I could be out looking for bad guys.” She stopped when she saw Hayley, then smiled. “Not that I mind, for you, girl.” She jabbed her thumb toward Dalton. “I just don’t like doing him any favors.”
He rolled his eyes and set the bag on the table. “Smells great. Barbecue?”
“Food of the gods. Chow down, my friends. I got a little of everything—baby back ribs, pulled pork, fried okra, you name it.” She handed the other bag that she was carrying to Hayley as she joined them in the kitchen. “If there’s something you want that I didn’t get, then you don’t need it. I even threw some makeup in there.” She looked Hayley up and down. “Then again, maybe make out is the operative word of the day. Tell me something, hon. Is that shoe-size thing accurate in a man as big as Dalton? I always wondered.”
Hayley’s face flushed a delightful pink.
“Brielle, leave her alone.” He gave Hayley an apologetic look as he continued unloading the bag of food onto the table. “Don’t mind her, Hayley.”
“Fine way to treat someone who brought you food and clothes.” Brielle waved toward the bag. “Seriously, honey. You got what you wanted in there? You need anything else?”
Hayley seemed overwhelmed beneath the force of Brielle’s personality. She glanced uncertainly at Dalton.
He gave her a reassuring smile and she peered inside the bag. “You thought of everything,” Hayley noted. “Thanks. I really appreciate it. I’ll pay you back when I can.”
Brielle shook her head. “That’s all courtesy of the Justice Seekers’ petty cash fund. No worries there.”
“Well, thanks again. And the food looks wonderful. But I’d rather have a quick shower first, if that’s okay. Murder scenes and bloody baseball bats have me feeling icky. I wish I could wash all of this awful stuff out of my mind too.”
“It’ll be okay. Promise,” Dalton told her. “Towels and anything you might need are in the linen closets in each bathroom. Feel free to use the master. The shower in there is a lot bigger.”
The sound of another car pulling up out front had him peering through the plantation shutters. “Mason’s here.”
Brielle pulled out her phone and checked the screen. “Looks like he wants us to come outside. Kira sent him a video feed from a gas station at the bottom of the mountain. It’s coming up on that fancy car computer of his right now.” She headed to the door.
Dalton looked back at Hayley. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Take your time. I’m fine.” She clutched the bag of clothes and toiletries.
He smiled and headed outside.
Mason’s black Mercedes pulled to a stop beside Brielle’s SUV. He’d had the car fully customized with expensive gadgets that law enforcement would drool over, including a state-of-the-art computer that was far more powerful than any police officer would have. It was attached to a metal arm that angled out over the middle console. He motioned for Brielle and Dalton to join him.
Brielle hopped into the front passenger seat while Dalton crouched in the open doorway to watch the video feed playing out on the computer screen.
Mason motioned toward the feed. “Kira said there were seven vehicles that went up the mountain from the time you and Miss Nash went to the park until the time you left Camelot to take her back to her cabin. She didn’t recognize any of them. And the video quality is too poor to see much detail as far as the occupants of the vehicles. But she’s sending a copy to Jaxon to try to get it enhanced.”
He punched a few keys, and the video sped up, then stopped
with a red pickup in the still frame. “This is the first one. She texted me the time stamps so I can fast-forward to where each vehicle comes into view. Either of you see anything familiar about that truck?”
“Not me,” Brielle said. “Looks like a legit business truck though. There are vegetables in the back. He’s probably heading up to Crawford’s market at the top of the mountain.”
“Agreed,” Dalton said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that same truck at Crawford’s before. And there look to be two little kids in the back seat.”
Brielle leaned toward the screen. “You’re right. That’s probably not our guy.”
“Next one.” Mason punched some more keys, stopping the frame to show a white Cadillac. Then a blue Toyota. Another pickup, this one green and so rust-riddled it was amazing it even ran. When he punched up the fifth vehicle, Brielle let out a gasp of surprise.
Dalton stiffened, his hand tightening around the door. “That little traitor.”
Mason looked from one to the other. “Traitor? I can’t see the driver. You recognize the vehicle?”
“You bet we do,” Dalton said. “That’s the emergency car that I left for our guest, just in case there was a wildfire or some other unexpected event so they could get out safely.”
“Wait,” Mason said. “I thought we had a bodyguard up there twenty-four seven. How would our guest manage to leave and him not know?”
Brielle was already shaking her head. “At first, Dalton had us taking turns once a day to drop off supplies and make sure everything was okay. Remember, we had no reason to think anyone knew they were there. But after you two saw that picture of Seth at the police station, Kira and Caleb went up to check on things.”
“And I hired a bodyguard that same day,” Dalton added. “Because things seemed suspicious. The bodyguard was supposedly there for protection. In reality, his job was to let us know if anything odd was going on.”
“Like a joy ride in the emergency car to plant evidence.” Mason’s face was grim. “Someone needs to check on our bodyguard.”
Brielle tapped her phone. Dalton hadn’t even realized she’d taken it out. “I just texted him. He’s not answering.”
Dalton swore.
Mason snapped the computer closed. “Dalton, you’d better let Sampson know what’s going on. Tell her we know the identity of our Ghost and get a BOLO out on the emergency vehicle. Tell the Seekers to be on the lookout for it, too. Brielle, you’ve got EMT training. Follow me to the safe house. I have a feeling it’s too late to help our bodyguard, but we have to try.”
“On it.”
Dalton straightened so she could hop out of the car and run to her SUV. “What do you want me to do, Mason?”
“After you bring Sampson up to speed, just hang out here with Miss Nash. No one but the Seekers knows she’s here. If The Ghost realizes their setup isn’t working and that we know their identity, then it’s obvious who the next victim will be.”
“Hayley.”
Mason nodded. “Keep her safe. I’ll text you an update as soon as I have one.”
Brielle’s tires kicked up gravel as she zipped down the road. Mason followed suit, leaving Dalton standing out front.
He yanked out his phone and punched in Sampson’s number.
Chapter Twenty-Six
After the heartache, fear and tension of the past few months, especially these harrowing last two weeks, Hayley was finally glimpsing something she’d worried that she’d never see again. Hope.
Her emotions had been tamped down so hard for so long she was ready to explode. And when she’d walked through the cabin with Dalton, knowing he finally believed her, and that she believed him, and they were going to face this thing together, she’d been overcome. Everything she’d bottled up inside, all the longing and desire, had been impossible to contain even one more second. And to her amazement, he’d felt the same way.
Kissing him, holding him, had been magic, magic she’d never wanted to end. But the cruel world had intruded all too soon. She needed to hurry and find out the latest news, see what the next hurdle would be. But at least this time she knew she’d have Dalton with her to jump that hurdle.
She quickly dressed, then towel-dried her hair as best she could. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find a blow-dryer. She hadn’t asked Brielle to bring one since she’d assumed there would be one here. Her long, thick hair would probably be damp the rest of the day, but it couldn’t be helped. At least she wasn’t planning on going outside in the cold.
She fashioned her hair into a thick braid that fell down the middle of her back. Then she shoved her dirty clothes into the bathroom hamper. After one last look in the mirror to make sure her makeup looked okay, she headed into the master bedroom. She was almost to the hall door when a knock sounded.
At the window.
She whirled around. A face stared back at her through the glass, a face that couldn’t possibly be there. She started shaking so hard her teeth chattered. She squeezed her eyes shut, convinced she was seeing a ghost.
The knock sounded again.
“Hayley, it’s me. Open up.”
She opened her eyes. That wasn’t a ghost. Bethany was really here. Alive. She sobbed and ran to the window and tried to open it.
Bethany pointed to the lock on one side.
Hayley flipped it back and slid the window up. She pressed her hand against the screen. “Bethany? Is that really you? I thought—”
“That I was dead?” She grinned and pressed her hand against Hayley’s.
“I thought you were a ghost.”
Her brows shot up, and she let out a laugh. “Imagine that.” She chuckled again. “Well, I’m not dead. I’m flesh and blood. Freezing my ass off, but still flesh and blood. Can you open the back door? We need to talk.” She dropped her hand from the screen.
Hayley clasped the windowsill, her greedy gaze drinking in every detail. “It really is you. I can’t believe... I don’t understand what’s going on. I saw the article in the paper about the police finding your body. I took a leave of absence so I could focus on getting you justice, finding the killer. How are you here, alive?”
Bethany glanced around before answering. “Brielle, you’ve met her right? One of the Seekers?”
Hayley nodded. Even though she was seeing her friend with her own eyes, just inches away, her mind couldn’t seem to accept that she was real. Was this what Dalton had wanted to tell her when she’d asked about the medical examiner’s report? That Bethany wasn’t dead? That he and his allies in the police station had set up a fake murder? Why? Why would they do that? He said he was going to answer all of her questions, but then they’d had to flee her cabin. She hadn’t thought to ask him those questions again since arriving here. Now she wished she had.
She shook her head, realizing that Bethany was trying to tell her something. “I’m... I’m sorry. I think I’m still in shock. You were explaining something about Brielle?”
Her friend sighed heavily. “Short version, the Seekers faked my death to keep me safe because some really bad people were after me once they figured out I was doing an exposé on them. I’ve been in a safe house, a cabin like this one, while they tried to put all the bad guys away who might do me harm. But the main guy has been killing people, putting out some kind of murder list. So the Seekers figured they could save resources by bringing me here—protect two people at once. Two birds with one stone kind of thing. Brielle brought me here.”
The fog in her mind was starting to lift. And her joy at seeing her friend was fading beneath a mountain of questions. And doubt. “Brielle didn’t mention you when she came inside.”
“No? Well, she did say that she wanted to break it to Dalton in private, about combining safe houses. They’re talking out front right now. But I got tired of waiting so I sneaked out of her car and headed around back. Gosh, Hayley. It’s so good to finall
y see you again. I’ve missed you so much.” She rubbed her hands up and down her coat sleeves, then shoved them in her pockets. “Did I mention it’s freezing out here? Can you open the back door? I’ll answer all your questions, explain everything. I promise. Just hurry, okay?”
Hayley stared at her as various images, snatches of conversations and research flitted through her mind like a checklist.
The frustrating meetings with the police. Their refusals to give Dalton a serious look as a potential suspect in Bethany’s death. Because they knew she wasn’t dead? Were they helping the Seekers fake her death while they brought down the crime ring? Dalton had said they weren’t officially working with the police, no task force. Did Sampson fake the death then, to help the Seekers? Maybe she told her bosses the fake death story in the paper was part of some case she was working, so they didn’t ask questions when there wasn’t a body in the morgue. That would explain Dalton’s concern about her asking for a medical examiner’s report.
He’d also sworn that he had an airtight alibi, but that he couldn’t share it without jeopardizing the case. Because he couldn’t tell her that Bethany was alive? She was still their client?
More puzzle pieces floated around. Like Dalton asking her how she’d met Bethany. Her telling him about Chandler Harding, the guy she’d once dated, the man who later became Bethany’s fiancé. Dalton said the name sounded familiar. It had bothered him enough to ask Sampson to look him up. And he had a rap sheet, a history of criminal activity. When Sampson had asked him why he wanted the information and whether it was related to the current case, he’d said it probably wasn’t, but it was another thread to pull.
Bethany had just told her that Brielle had left her in her vehicle out front. Did that even make sense? Wouldn’t Brielle bring her inside where it was warm and have her share the food she’d brought?
Something had been niggling at Hayley ever since Dalton had questioned her about her old nickname, Ghost. The killer was using the same moniker. Was that really a coincidence? It didn’t seem like it, since the killer was also hacking into her websites to point the blame at her for the murders. She’d told Dalton that her college friends had come up with that nickname. But looking back, it was one friend in particular. Bethany.