by Jodie Bailey
“Not yet on my end. I can’t get any closer than this.”
“You made a good call leaving Erin at the station, although I know it was hard on you to make it. She’ll be safe there. Eaton and Owens are good cops.”
Something about Wyatt’s demeanor was off. He couldn’t look Jason in the eye but kept watching the area as though he searched for something. They’d been friends too long for him to have a successful poker face. He was withholding something.
“Tell me what you know.” Jason had called Wyatt as he was leaving the station because he hadn’t known where else to turn. There was one way to find out what was happening, and it was through Wyatt. He should apologize for using his friend, but Wyatt likely already knew.
“You first.”
Fair enough. “Lisa Fitzgerald contacted me. She’s a nurse at the hospital, and when she was released, she tried to visit Caroline and was denied access to the floor. One of the other nurses told her someone had tried to kill Caroline. I tried to call Lisa, got nothing, then got the texts from Caesar...” Jason swept his hand to encompass the entire scene before them. “Of course, nobody will tell me anything, but according to his text, Caesar is inside. It doesn’t make sense. Why would he leave Caroline alone?”
“I can’t answer that, but I do know a few things.” Wyatt’s voice was grim, and he walked back to the cruiser, where he leaned in and retrieved his phone. “I talked to a buddy on the sheriff’s department, and I shouldn’t say this, but...”
Adrenaline jolted Jason. If Wyatt was going to violate a confidence, this was worse than he’d thought. “You don’t have to say anything. I shouldn’t have called you.”
“You need to know.” Wyatt read his phone’s screen for a bit before he looked back to the emergency responders. “Without giving you too many details, Tony Augustus left the hospital about an hour before his wife was attacked.”
“Who was with her after he left?”
“No one.”
Jason scanned the parking lot, the sky, the buildings in front of him, but none of it registered. Something wasn’t right. “Who came after Caroline?”
“We don’t know. The camera on her hallway was disabled.”
“Why are the police here?”
“Someone in Caesar’s apartment made a 911 call about half an hour ago, but they hung up. Officers have to check if they return a call and no one answers. The front door was cracked, so the responding officer entered.”
Jason’s gut twisted. Someone was in the apartment, and he had a horrible, sick feeling he knew who it was.
“Tony Augustus overdosed on opiates, Jase, probably right after he texted you. He’s been taken to the hospital alive, but barely. He wrote a note that took responsibility for all of the murders.”
Slamming a palm onto the roof of Wyatt’s patrol car, Jason turned his back to the scene to stare across an open field beside the apartment complex, trying to keep his stomach from revolting. He had wanted an end to this, but not this way. Not with proof one of his buddies had taken innocent lives, destroyed families and shattered dreams.
Caesar had mentioned violent thoughts, but he’d never hinted at the desire to act on them or indicated they’d gotten so far out of control he couldn’t reel them in.
If Caesar could crack like this, anybody could.
Even him.
His whole life had been a fight for control, particularly when he’d emancipated from his parents. Trying to get Erin to tell her father the truth, joining the army in order to prove he could provide for her... Everything he’d done for her was an act of control, of trying to protect her from a distance and to keep her from losing everything.
“Where’s your head, Jase?”
The question echoed across the years, the same one Wyatt’s father had asked many times when Jason had been battling his parents’ abandonment. He almost smiled, because Wyatt’s adult voice sounded exactly like his father’s.
But these thoughts weren’t worth smiling about.
Because no matter how much he loved Erin, he was still going to have to leave her in the end. He’d been right all along. The greatest danger to her was him.
“My head?” Jason addressed the brittle grass in the field. “I’ve seen the headlines. They’re calling me a hero. Know what? They called all of us heroes when we came home, even Caesar. But I know the truth.” He spun on his heel to face Wyatt. “The truth is, I’m a failure. I missed the signs and let my team get ambushed, let Fitz get killed. I had questions about Caesar from the moment Angie died and I kept them to myself. And who’s to say I won’t lose my head one day and turn out the same way? We went through the same experiences.” He jabbed his finger at the flashing emergency lights. “Caesar is a good man, a crack soldier and a guy who always had my back. How did he get here? And what if I follow him?”
Wyatt crossed his arms and exhaled loudly, leaning back against the hood of the cruiser. “Far as I’m concerned, you’re already out of your head.”
The flat statement grabbed Jason’s spinning thoughts and stopped them cold. “What?”
“I can’t say what happened to your buddy. I have no idea what you went through overseas, but you’re fine. Who knows why some people crack and some don’t, but I’m betting if you go back and think hard, there were signs long before this.” Wyatt shifted, planting his feet wider. “I’ll tell you something my dad told me once, right after I got my badge. I saw a lot overseas, but the most afraid I ever felt was here, on a domestic call about a week in, when a guy fired shots at us out a window. Bullets were supposed to fly outside the wire downrange, but not here. It spooked me.”
“How is this helping?” He didn’t need a lecture. He needed to...to hit something. To find a gym and a punching bag and pour all of this pent-up anger and frustration on an inanimate object until he collapsed. Then maybe he could forget for a few minutes what he’d lost...and what he was about to lose when he walked away from Erin again.
“Heroes aren’t fearless. Heroes aren’t perfect. They see what needs to be done and they do it, even though they’re scared. Even though they mess up. Brother, you’ve got to stop thinking you have to be perfect. The way you talk, you think you have to check the box before God will even listen to your prayers.”
The words slammed into Jason, a fist to the stomach so lightning quick he nearly bent double. How did Wyatt know?
“You’re blaming yourself for things other people have done of their own free will, things you’re powerless to stop because you don’t wear a cape and change clothes in a phone booth. Heroes get up when they’re knocked down, Jase.” Wyatt straightened and clapped a firm hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Cowards run.”
As though he’d given the definitive answer to life, Wyatt stepped around Jason and walked toward the crime scene, hailing a sheriff’s deputy.
Jason watched him go, balling his fists, still desperate to hit something, desperate to understand everything happening.
Cowards run.
The words circled in his head, daring him to act.
Wyatt was right. He wasn’t Caesar or Rich or Fitz or any other soldier. They’d all been together that day, had faced overwhelming odds, pinned down by evil men with evil intent. They’d all been wounded. The responsibility wasn’t his alone.
Neither was the pain. They were all hurting, physically and emotionally. They’d all continue to hurt as news of Caesar’s betrayal spread.
He could choose to live in the pain, or he could move forward with his life.
He could choose to stand even though he’d been knocked down.
He could keep relying on himself or, as he had in the fire, he could surrender his life to Jesus and trust Him for the next step, trusting the One who died because Jason could never be perfect.
This was a step he couldn’t take alone.
He had to get to Erin, to tell her the trut
h about his feelings, about the money, about everything. On the way, he had a whole lot of praying to do. Firing off a quick text to Wyatt, Jason strode to his truck to head back to Mountain Springs and to his future.
* * *
She couldn’t take it anymore.
Erin had paced the hallway of the police station until there had to be a ditch forming in the gray tile, her mind as mushy as the oatmeal it reminded her of. Everything about her life had changed in the past hour, her world rocked sideways by the truth.
Her father didn’t love her. The father she’d loved her entire life, had sacrificed everything to protect.
That was what daughters did, right?
Oh, God, what’s the right thing to do?
She’d been asking the question for an hour, racked with uncertainty. Submit to her father or protect herself? With her eyes opened by Jenna’s assertions and Jason’s truths, she could see clearly what had been a hazy thought in her art studio. She’d never been safe. Had never been allowed to be who God had called her to be. Had charted a faulty course based on lies, on duty instead of love.
She loved her father, whether he loved her or not. But their relationship was killing them both, and something had to change.
She had to talk to him. To confront him. To tell him to his face she was moving out—to where, she didn’t know—but it was time for both of them to stand on their own two feet, for both of them to start living.
If not, the real Erin would be lost forever, along with the dreams God was renewing inside her. She was meant to do more than this, and even if her future didn’t include Jason, it did include growing closer to her Savior...and following her calling as a full-time firefighter.
Footsteps at the far end of the hallway whirled her around. Officer Dan Weston strolled closer. “Wyatt’s on the phone. You can take it in the chief’s office. Said he tried to call your cell but Jason had it on him.”
Her phone. Jason had taken it at the house. She whirled and headed up the hall, grabbing the phone and punching the button for the line on hold. “Wyatt?”
“It’s over, Erin.”
Erin sank into the seat behind the chief’s desk and clinched the phone tighter. “Over?” She rocked backward, trying to let the news sink in. Her life was hers again. She didn’t have to watch over her shoulder anymore. She was safe.
The realization was slow to take hold, and it brought more questions than answers. “What happened? Who was it?”
“I can’t tell you right now. Jason’s headed back to my house. He wants you to meet him there. You can take my truck. Have Owens give you the keys.”
If Jason was right about someone on his team being the killer and this was truly over, then the repercussions were bound to be slamming into Jason pretty hard. “How is he?”
“He needs you.”
The words washed over her in a wave of relief and pain. Both of them had lost so much today, had lost so much in their lives. With so much changing, what was next for them? They needed each other. The truth was, she’d never stopped needing him. Had never truly stopped loving him. She’d merely shoved him aside out of guilt and a twisted sense of responsibility. And when everything had fallen apart, when she’d been in danger, her father hadn’t been the one there for her.
Jason had. “He really did love me once.”
“Once?” Wyatt chuckled, but it held no mirth. “Where do you think the grant money you’ve been getting all of these years came from?”
“What?”
“Whoa. No. I didn’t say that.”
Erin sank deeper into the chair, shock and grief robbing her muscles of their strength. “Jason was sending me money.” It all made sense now. The amount had been small at first, growing at fairly regular intervals in a “cost-of-living increase.” The money must have paced his salary as he rose through the ranks. The world started spinning, and she grabbed the edge of the desk, desperate to make it stop. “Why?”
Wyatt was silent, seeming to weigh how much he should say. “This isn’t my story to tell. I shouldn’t have—”
“Why?” If she went to Jason, he’d deny it. Wyatt was her source of information, and she had to know what she’d thrown away while listening to her father’s lies.
The grief almost choked her.
Wyatt exhaled loudly. “Jason knew your paycheck as a firefighter wouldn’t cover the bills, and he knew you’d probably let go of your dream if something didn’t happen to stretch the money. Before he left, he had Dad help him arrange everything. I found out about it a few months ago, when I came across a bank statement Dad had left on the table and I put two and two together.”
Jason had sacrificed for her, even after she’d booted him out of her life, had refused to be the wife he deserved. From living near Camp McGee, she had a vague idea of what a soldier made and the calculations told the tale. He’d been sending her a large chunk of his paycheck for years. Sacrificing his life so she could continue to live her dream.
Sacrificing himself in a way her father never had.
His actions made no sense, unless he’d stayed out of her way because he’d thought she wanted him gone. And why wouldn’t he think she was over him? She’d told him so when she’d shut him out and sent him divorce papers, accusing him of abandoning her.
But he never had.
“Wyatt, I have to go.” She hung up the phone and stared at the scarred desktop. She needed to see Jason, to tell him she knew and that she loved him. That she was sorry and she wanted to start over, if he’d have her.
But first she had to confront her father. There would be no rest until that happened. She’d go to Wyatt’s and meet Jason...but only after she’d gone home first. Her father may have treated her badly, but he deserved to hear face-to-face why she was leaving.
She marched to the front desk and asked Officer Owens for Wyatt’s keys. She wrapped her fingers tightly around them, her resolve deepening. “Thanks, Mike. If Wyatt calls back, tell him to let Jason know I’ll be at the house in an hour. I’ve got something to take care of first.”
“I don’t think he’ll like—”
Erin was already in motion, pushing past Owens on the way to the door. “He’ll understand.” When she hit sunlight, there was no pause to enjoy her freedom. Too much pain lay ahead.
Outside of town, she pushed the truck faster and prayed for wisdom, for the right words for her father, for forgiveness and God’s will. This was tricky territory, pulling away from a parent.
But Jason had done it. The circumstances were different, to be sure, but necessary. She ached for him in a whole new way.
Slowing for the S-turn before the bridge over Redbill Creek, Erin glanced in the side-view mirror.
A dark sedan was close on her bumper. Where had he come from? Something about the car crawled over her skin, and she checked the rearview.
The windshield of the car was shattered, the hood bearing a deep dent in the center.
In the exact place Angie Daniels had landed when a dark sedan struck her.
White-hot fear raced through Erin’s blood. No. Wyatt said the threat was over. How could—
A tap on the rear bumper nosed the truck forward, and Erin gripped the steering wheel tighter, fighting for control. Few people traveled this road unless they were headed to the small community near her house, so the likelihood of help happening upon her was slim. She reached in her hip pocket for the phone, then drew back and grabbed the steering wheel again.
Jason still had it.
She was in this alone.
Either she had to outrun the car or slow down and pray the lack of speed would be enough to keep her from careening out of control if there was another hit.
The sedan tapped her again.
Erin’s gaze leaped to the rearview mirror, trying to see the driver, but the cracked windshield made identification impossible.
The impact jolted her head sideways, her neck screaming in pain. Erin fought the wheel, trying to keep the truck in line. She was bigger, heavier, but the angle the car had her pinned was no match. She couldn’t slam on the brakes or she risked a skid that would roll her into the side of the mountain looming above the road. The truck edged closer and closer to an unyielding wall of rock, the concrete bridge railing looming closer. If she hit the bridge head-on at this speed, no airbag in the world would save her.
Metal screeched as the other car kept pace with her, the force grinding her sideways.
Lifting her foot from the gas, Erin prayed for the best and jerked the wheel to the right at the last second, the embankment her only hope. If she could hit it at the right angle, the truck would run straight down to the creek, but she’d avoid the railing.
If she could keep...the front end...straight...
The car slammed on the brakes, taking away the pressure she’d been fighting. The steering wheel jerked sideways, and the side of the truck clipped the bridge railing, throwing her off center and sending the truck rolling down the embankment.
Front and side airbags deployed, throwing Erin in multiple directions as the world turned over and over. She choked on vertigo and dust and panic, the spin lasting a lifetime before the truck came to rest.
Erin shoved the limp airbag from her face and gasped for air, fear rising until she got a deep breath.
She’d landed right side up in Redbill Creek. She was safe.
Until whoever had run her off the road found a way to finish the job. She knew how this worked. They wouldn’t leave her alive.
Fighting nausea from the roll down the hill, her face throbbing and her entire body aching, Erin managed to unbuckle the seat belt, but when she moved her left arm to open the door, pain ripped through her. She bit back a scream as dark spots crossed her vision. Her wrist throbbed, increasing the pain jolting through her.