by Hope White
“Are they gone?” Jenna said from the seat directly behind Matt.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. It seemed like her eyes had grown a brighter shade of green since he’d seen her earlier this evening.
“I think so,” he said. “The little boy, is he Mrs. McFadden’s?”
“Yes. I promised to protect him.”
She studied Matt as if trying to make out his character, figure out whether he was good or bad. A little of both, he mused.
She needed good right now, very good, and committed. Which wasn’t Matt. He wished it could be different. There was something about Jenna North that always made him smile. It was her way with staff members—with everyone, come to think of it. She was gentle and kind, yet persuasive enough to get the job done. The Broadlake Foundation thrived in part because of her fund-raising efforts that supported the operating budget.
He hoped she knew nothing about the cartel’s money-laundering scheme, that she was only an innocent bystander.
“My friend, Mrs. McFadden, she...” Jenna’s voice trailed off.
He waited.
“She’s dead.”
Yes, Matt knew because he’d seen it happen.
And now, because she’d also witnessed the homicide, Miss North’s life was in danger, as was the child’s. Anger simmered in his chest. This couldn’t be his problem, not today. He’d get Miss North and the child to safety and get back to his assignment.
Acting like the innocent bystander she assumed he was, Matt said, “We should report this.”
“To whom? The police? They’re involved.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Chief Billings killed Chloe.”
Great, not only had she been asked to protect the child, but she knew of the chief’s involvement. This put her life at an even higher risk.
“Matthew, may I ask a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Can you keep this between us, that you helped me, that I have Eli?”
“Only if you’ll do me a favor in return.”
“What?”
He had no choice but to protect her. She was in too deep. “Stay here until I deal with the fire department. Once they’re gone, I’ll come back and give you a ride to wherever you want to go. Okay?”
“Thank you, but my car isn’t far.”
“They’ll probably be watching your car, right?”
She nibbled her lower lip for a second, an adorable gesture. He snapped his attention out the front window of his truck to the parking lot in the distance.
“I guess you’re right,” she said. “But...you should know that helping me could get you into trouble.”
“I’m okay with that.” Matt offered her the truck keys. “If I’m not back in twenty, take off.”
He flung open the door and headed for the front of the building. He half expected to encounter the two perps, maybe even the chief, but they were nowhere in sight.
The glass windows on one of the community center doors had been shattered, which must be how the men had gained access to the building.
Motioning to the fire response crew, Matt led them inside. They spread out, looking for smoke. A fireman turned off the alarm and nodded at Matt. “Are you the night custodian?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please wait outside until we clear the building.”
Matt did as he was ordered and called the police. He had to. It would look suspicious if he didn’t alert the authorities to the break-in. As he was making the call, a squad car and the chief’s car pulled into the lot.
A patrolman Matt recognized as Kyle Armstrong exited his squad car. Chief Billings and Kyle approached Matt.
You’re only the janitor, he reminded himself.
“I was just calling you guys,” Matt said.
“Hey, Matt,” Kyle greeted him.
“You two know each other?” Billings asked.
“We attend the same church,” Kyle said by way of explanation.
Church was no doubt a foreign concept to a guy like Billings. A dirty cop. A killer.
“This is Matt Weller, the night custodian,” Kyle introduced.
Billings extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Matt. Have any idea who pulled the alarm?”
“No, sir. Apparently some guy broke in.” He pointed toward the broken window.
“Some guy? Not mischievous teens?” Billings asked.
Matt opted for sticking to the truth as much as possible. “No, it was a man, sir.” He looked directly at Billings, whose eye twitched ever so slightly.
“Can you describe him?” Kyle asked, pulling out a small notebook.
“About five-ten, a hundred and eighty pounds.” He directed the rest of his answer to Kyle. “He wore a black leather jacket and knit cap. I’m thinking he was pushing forty?”
“Wow, how close did you get to this guy?” Kyle asked.
“Pretty close. He took a swing at me.”
“Are you injured?” Billings said with mock concern.
“No, sir. I grew up the youngest of five boys so I’m pretty good at defending myself.”
“The knit cap perp was inside the building?” Kyle pushed.
“Actually we got into it outside, back by the playground.”
Kyle looked up in question.
“I went out to my truck to get something, and that’s when I encountered the man,” Matt said. “The alarm had gone off—not sure what that was about. He claimed his wife was in the building.”
“His wife?” Kyle said. “But the center was closed.”
“That is correct,” Matt said. “I thought I convinced him to leave, but then he went all Rocky on me.”
The fire crew exited the building. “It’s clear,” the shift captain said.
“Thanks.” Billings turned to Matt. “I’d like you to walk me through what happened tonight. Step by step.”
Of course he did. He wanted to figure out if Matt was telling the truth or creating a story to protect himself, Jenna and the little boy.
“Sure, this way.” He led Kyle and the chief into the community center. By the end of this story, they’d be at Matt’s truck. He hoped they wouldn’t decide to search it, but why would they? Matt wasn’t a suspect. If Jenna stayed down and the little boy didn’t cry, Billings wouldn’t find her.
She’d be hiding right under his nose.
“I was in the back office on break, listening to the hockey game,” Matt said.
They got to his office and the cops poked their heads inside.
“Closed circuit?” Kyle asked, eyeing the monitor.
“Yep. For security.” Matt curled his fingers into his palm to keep calm. “It gives me a view of the main hallway.”
“You didn’t see the suspect break in?”
“No, he probably accessed the building while I was at my truck.” He feigned panic and looked at Kyle. “Man, I hope I don’t lose my job over this—I mean for not preventing the break-in.”
“If he was determined to get in, nothing would have stopped him,” Billings said.
Matt nodded. Was that subtext? A subtle warning?
“Continue,” Chief Billings said.
“So about ten thirty I went out to the truck.” He led them to the back door and swung it open. The three men ambled outside. “It wasn’t parked this close originally, but kids were finishing up basketball when I arrived at six. I figured as long as I was out here I’d repark closer to the building.”
“Besides the basketball league, who else was here tonight, Mr. Weller?” the chief asked.
“A yoga class, line dancing for seniors and the knitting club. They were all gone by nine.”
“Anyone else, perhaps employees working late?” Billings pushed.
Matt wondered if he’d seen Jenna North’
s little blue car parked in the overflow lot. He had to play this just right, be as truthful as possible.
“I might have seen Jenna North earlier. She works for a foundation that leases space here.”
“I’ll look into it,” Kyle said.
Chief Billings eyed Matt speculatively, and he broke eye contact in his effort to act submissive and nonthreatening.
Innocent.
That’s when Matt noticed the back window of his truck was cracked open. Matt needed a quick redirect to get them away from Jenna and the child.
“We got into a fistfight over here.” Matt led them to the other side of the truck. “Actually, there was one other thing about the knit cap guy.”
Billings’s eyes flared.
“He had a scar above his eyebrow here.” Matt pointed to his own forehead.
“That could help,” Kyle said.
“I yelled at him to stay away from the building. He yelled back that his wife was inside, which made no sense. Then he threw a punch. That’s about it.”
“That’s a lot,” Kyle said, jotting notes furiously.
The chief kneeled, analyzing something on the ground.
“What is it, sir?” Kyle asked.
“Found a cigarette butt. I’ll bag it.”
Except Knit Cap Guy hadn’t been smoking, which meant Billings was trying to throw the investigation off course.
“Can you tell us anything else, Matt?” Kyle said.
“No, sorry. I’d better go fix the front door, and I should probably call Mrs. Harris, my boss.”
“If anything else does come to mind, please call me directly.” Billings handed him a business card.
“Will do. Thanks.”
Matt led the cops back to the front of the building, and the knot in his gut uncoiled as they got farther away from the truck, from Jenna and the little boy.
He called Lucinda Harris and explained the situation as he watched the fire trucks pull away. She was worried about Matt and told him to finish cleaning up the mess and leave early. A good thing, since he was desperate to check on Jenna and the child.
The chief and Kyle were still out front, assessing and speculating.
Matt went inside and found a piece of wood from the storage area to cover the broken window. He secured it in place and swept up the mess. He wanted to play the role of night custodian a little longer, until the cops left the premises.
And then he needed to get to Jenna and the child. Let her know everything was okay.
He started flipping off main lights. Through one of the community room windows, he noticed the two police cars pulling out of the lot.
After jogging to the back of the building, he got his jacket out of the office, locked the building and headed to his truck. He grabbed the door handle, but it was locked. Fearful of being found, Miss North must have locked the doors. He tapped twice, blowing on his chilled hands, and glanced over his shoulder out of habit.
The door unlocked with a click. He climbed into the front seat. “They’re gone.”
He felt the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head.
TWO
Jenna’s hand trembled as she aimed the gun at the janitor’s head. Of course there was no way she could pull the trigger, but she didn’t know what else to do.
I might have seen Jenna North earlier, he’d said to the chief.
The man who’d killed her best friend.
Matthew might as well have opened the truck door and handed Jenna and Eli over to the guy.
“I know you’re scared—”
“Drive,” she interrupted.
“Please put the gun down.”
“Now.” She tapped the barrel against his head, not hard, but hard enough.
With a nod, he started the truck and pulled out of the lot.
She still couldn’t believe what she’d found when she’d gone through his glove box looking for a tissue.
Zip ties, duct tape and a gun.
Who was this man? Had she run from one killer directly into the arms of another?
The trembling intensified, running down her arm to rock her entire body. No, she would not let the trauma of the past consume her; she would not fall apart.
This time she’d save the child.
She had considered fleeing in his truck, but that would have meant driving past the killer police chief.
“I can explain,” Matthew said.
“Just drive.”
“To where?”
Good question. The mall was closed at this time of night, yet she needed a very public place to regroup. And then what?
One step at a time.
“I-90 truck stop.” It was very public and not far away. She wouldn’t spend a minute longer than necessary with this creep. Once away from the janitor, she’d call someone for help. But whom? Patrice, the woman who’d helped Jenna escape Anthony?
Wait—she remembered the slip of paper Chloe had given her with the name of her cousin. That’s it. She’d call Marcus to come get her.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, Miss North, but if I’d wanted to do you harm I would have turned you over to Chief Billings.”
“Then you wouldn’t have the pleasure of hurting me.”
He shot her an intense look through the rearview mirror. “I would never hurt you. I want to help.”
“Stop talking,” she ordered as the past taunted her.
I want to help you get better.
She’d believed her abusive husband. Only after she’d left Anthony did she understand how his words had been an insidious and powerful manipulation.
“At least let me call someone for you,” Matthew said.
You need help.
She almost told the janitor to shut up again, but decided to speak the truth instead. “Stop pretending to be my friend. I heard you tell Billings that I was at the center tonight.”
“I had to. Your car was a hundred yards away.”
Her car. She’d never get it back. They’d impound it, making it harder for her to flee the city.
Which meant she’d have to rely on strangers for help until Chloe’s cousin could rescue her.
No, you don’t need rescuing any longer.
The janitor turned left.
“Where are you going? I said take me to the truck stop.” Fear skittered across her shoulders. Was he going to try to overpower her? In front of Eli?
“We’re being followed,” he said.
She snapped her gaze out the back window. Headlights shone through the dark night. “That could be anyone.”
“They’ve been behind us since we left the center.”
“Just get me to the truck stop.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As he drove through town, she scolded herself for trusting him in the first place, but Matthew had seemed like an innocuous sort of man. She’d heard he’d moved to town after serving in the military and that he’d even joined the local church. That in and of itself would have made most people trust him.
Yet Anthony had been a church leader, a pillar of the community—and behind closed doors, he was a monster.
Like Chloe’s husband?
Like the man driving the truck?
Why did Jenna attract violent men? Maybe her stepfather had been right when he’d branded her a stupid and weak girl, a lost cause.
“No,” she ground out.
“Ma’am?”
She snapped her attention to him. “What?”
“You said something?”
She clenched her jaw. This was not the time for the past to taunt her. Making bad choices when it came to romance seemed to be a habit for Jenna, starting with Mike in high school, and then Anthony. It had taken two years and a miscarriage to get away from her abuser. Tonight, three yea
rs after her escape, she found herself right back in the eye of the storm.
This time she’d get it right. She’d protect her friend’s little boy.
Her friend. Chloe.
The image of Chloe collapsing on the floor flashed across Jenna’s mind. Still in shock about the loss, Jenna had had no time to process or grieve. Chloe wouldn’t want her to be distracted; she’d want Jenna to put all her energy into saving Eli.
Chloe was a young mother who’d become Jenna’s best friend in town after they’d met on the development committee for the foundation. They’d joined an exercise dance class and regularly gone out for pie afterward. They had the same sense of humor, the same view on life.
It seemed they had other similarities as well—their bad choices in men.
The janitor made a right turn, heading in the opposite direction of her requested destination.
“Hey.” She tapped the barrel of the gun against his head.
“Look, trust me or don’t trust me. I don’t care,” he said. “At least let me lose the tail before I drop you at the truck stop.”
“You can drop the knight-in-shining-armor act. I’m not buying it.”
“Then shoot me.”
She snapped her gaze to the rearview mirror. He pinned her with fierce blue eyes.
“Shoot me or let me lose them. Your choice,” he said.
She glanced nervously at Eli. She couldn’t pull the trigger with a baby in the car.
Who was she kidding? She couldn’t pull the trigger, period.
But this creep didn’t have to know that.
“Fine, lose them,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He sped up, and she jerked back in her seat. She glanced beside her at Eli. The motion hadn’t disturbed him from his restful slumber as he sucked on his Binky and clung to his bear.
The janitor navigated down side streets and back up an alley. She clutched the gun grip to stay grounded, but wished it were something else, something spiritual. Her fingers automatically went to the base of her neck, remembering the dove charm she’d worn as a child, a charm that symbolized the Holy Spirit.
A charm she’d ripped off and thrown away as a teenager after she’d lost faith in an absent god.