Evie climbed from the back of the SUV and went around the back of the building. There was an old drainage pipe she could try to climb. As she was looking at her darkened window, the light turned on and a figure walked by the window. Her chance of getting her things was gone.
* * *
Jackson entered Evie’s apartment and turned on the light. It was small so it took no time at all to determine she wasn’t there. In all, there were three rooms. A kitchen and living room combo, a small bathroom that was so small it was hard for him to turn around, and a bedroom with a double bed and single nightstand.
Something bothered him about that man. He wouldn’t introduce himself and was supposedly friends with Evie but didn’t have her address or phone number. If Jackson was wrong, he’d apologize after the fact. Right now, he wanted all evidence of Evie out of the house.
Jackson pushed the small curtain under the sink to the side and found a trash bag. In two minutes, he had her entire house packed up. Clothes, toiletries, and papers were all stuffed into one bag. Could this really be all that she had? That alone raised his suspicions even more. Who was this woman he’d had an insane connection to the night before?
Jackson opened the back window and leaned out. He dropped the bag to the alley behind the bar and quickly shut and locked the window, then forced himself to go slowly down the stairs and back into the bar.
“She wasn’t there. I guess she’s out for her walk.”
“I’ll wait for a little while. I hope I can catch her before I have to leave,” the man said with a fake smile that Jackson hated. Determined to find Evie, Jackson kissed his cousin goodbye and told Gator to keep an eye on the man near the bar. No one in their right mind would mess with Gator. He was a mountain of a man who carried a very big knife.
* * *
Evie saw Jackson drop a bag from her window. Maybe he wasn’t at her apartment looking for her out of concern, but collecting evidence to arrest her? Evie was about to grab the bag when she heard Jackson running toward the back of the building. She couldn’t risk him seeing her, so she took the time to sneak around the other side and climb back into his car. She decided to wait until Jackson had to stop for a restroom break during his road trip and then she’d sneak out of the car. No one would know where she was and she could start over again.
* * *
Jackson didn’t know what it was, but something was off. He’d looked around town and couldn’t find Evie. He finally left Shadows Landing, but kept looking in his mirrors. No one was following him. Jackson pressed a button on his steering wheel and used Bluetooth to call his brother.
“Are you leaving now?” Ryan asked over the car speakers.
“Yes. I’ll be home around six in the morning.”
“Are you staying at the apartment or with Mom and Dad?” his brother asked.
“The apartment. I need some space. I didn’t get my full time in South Carolina and I’m still unwinding,” Jackson explained. “But I need a favor.”
“Sure thing. Want me to tell Mom you’re not getting back until tomorrow night?”
Jackson chuckled. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t work or he’d take him up on the offer. There was a ninety-nine percent chance his mom had a GPS unit somewhere on him or his car. “No, I need everything you have on a woman named Evie Scott. Late twenties. Five feet, six inches. Blonde hair and light blue eyes.”
“You want me to run a background check on some woman in the middle of the night? What’s up?”
“I don’t know yet,” Jackson admitted.
“Okay. I’ll run it and leave the file at the apartment for you.”
“Thanks, Ryan.”
“Safe travels. See you tomorrow.”
Jackson hung up with his brother as he sped his way toward Columbia, South Carolina, and then on the twisting interstate through the mountains near Ashville, North Carolina. It was there his phone rang again. Jackson pressed the speakerphone button but before he could say hello, his brother interrupted.
“Where are you?” Ryan asked without saying hello.
“Just past Ashville. About four hours from home since I’m able to speed a little. Okay, a lot. I’m totally going to pull my FBI badge if I get pulled over.”
“Evie Scott is a Silver Alert.”
Jackson knew he didn’t hear him right. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Her stepbrother and her doctor put out an alert for her. She’s schizophrenic.”
* * *
Oh crap, Evie felt the tears pressing against her eyes as she clung to the duffle bag. Her legs were cramped and she’d been trying to slowly stretch them over the past four hours in the back of the SUV. She’d heard Jackson asking for his brother to look into her, but she thought she’d be out of the vehicle when he found out about her stepbrother.
“Schizophrenic? That’s not possible.”
Now Evie really did feel like crying. He didn’t believe her brother. Was there a chance he would believe her if she told him the truth?
“That’s what the alert says. She’s from Seattle. They reported her missing the day of the bombing there. Plus there’s a report of her raging at the police station about having information on the bombing. She disappeared by saying she was using the restroom. Since then, there have been sightings of her in Montana, Wyoming, New Mexico, and Texas. Then the trail went dead until you asked about her.”
Evie held her breath as silence filled the SUV.
“Those are the states where the bombings were.”
Crap. He’d believed in her for one second, but now it was gone. She heard it in his voice.
“Jackson, she’s a suspect in those bombings.”
“But she’s been in Shadows Landing since the wedding,” Jackson argued. “She couldn’t have done the last bombing and probably not the others before that.”
“True,” Ryan said slowly. “However, the FBI doesn’t know that. They think she could be behind it all. Not only one of the bombers, but the head of the terrorist group.”
Jackson cursed under his breath and Evie couldn’t hear what he said. “Call Harper and see if she ever came back to the bar. I’ll be home in four hours and we can look over everything after I get some sleep.”
“And you can tell me how you met up with a mentally unstable bomber.”
Jackson didn’t respond. He only hung up and Evie felt her whole soul crush under the disappointment. He was just like the officer in Seattle and the agent she’d called from the FBI. They only saw what was on the surface that Jonathan had wanted them to see. They didn’t see the truth. She was trying to save lives. What could she do now?
Tears leaked down her face as all hope was lost. All fight seeped out of her body as the will to battle was drained. There was nothing she could do. She couldn’t go up against Jonathan alone with no one believing her.
Jackson slowed and Evie struggled to gain the motivation to run. The SUV lit up as Jackson opened the door to pump gas. Evie was too exhausted to move. She watched as his shadow came into view and only left when he got back in the SUV. There was never a time to escape. And with nothing but the void of hopelessness to keep her company, Evie clutched the duffle bag and cried silently until she fell asleep.
11
Jackson didn’t stop again until he was home. Main Street was completely empty as he drove into Keeneston at five in the morning. The historic two- and three-story houses converted into stores and painted different shades of white, ivory, yellow, green, and blue guarded the street. Bourbon barrels, cut in half, were filled with a riot of colored mums lined the street and illuminated with the soft glow of the streetlights. There was one Keeneston deputy at the sheriff’s station, either Cody or Luke, and that was it. All the shops were locked up and the lights turned off.
As Jackson passed the Rooney law firm, he saw a small yellow lamp had been left on at the receptionist’s desk, but besides that the place was dark. Jackson looked to the other side of the street at the darkened bank and finally at his mother�
�s shop, Southern Charms. The downstairs was where she had a boutique and her hat making shop. Upstairs in the old house was an apartment that Jackson used when he came to Keeneston and didn’t feel like staying at home.
Jackson pulled behind the shop where an old fire escape led up to the apartment above the shop. He had places in both Louisville and Quantico, but this was his favorite place to be. At night he could look out over his town and smile at the memories of growing up here. Of late nights and pranks with Dylan and Abby as the three best friends ran around feeling as if they ruled the world.
Jackson parked in the darkness of the early morning. He grabbed the bag containing Evie’s things and got out of his SUV. He stretched as he walked to the back of the SUV and opened the liftgate. All of a sudden, his duffle bag hit him in the face and a person tried to jump out of the back.
Umph, Jackson grunted at the hit to his face as he instinctively grabbed for the attacker. His hands wrapped around a pair of shoulders as he flung the person to the ground. His body quickly followed, pinning the person to the pavement with his knee against their back.
“Stop fighting,” he ordered as he placed one hand on the back of the neck of an individual who was clearly a woman. As he pinned her arms behind her at the wrist with his other hand, he caught side of her face in the pale yellow of the SUV’s dome light. Jackson felt the hit of recognition more than the hit by the duffle bag. “Evie? What the hell is going on?”
“I’m not mentally ill,” Evie yelled underneath his hold.
“I never said you were,” Jackson said calmly as he loosened his hold just a little bit.
“Your brother did. I heard him say I am schizophrenic. It’s a lie!”
Jackson could feel Evie’s body heaving with emotion under him, and the way her voice caught it was clear she was about to lose it. “Let’s start with an easy question. What were you doing in the back of my car?”
She turned her head slightly to look back at him. Jackson steeled his emotions. She was a suspect. Not the woman he kissed. “He found me.”
Three little words hit him hard. She wasn’t a suspect. She was a victim. Jackson knew there was something off about the man at the bar.
* * *
Evie felt her bottom lip tremble as she tried to swallow back her tears. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Please believe me. She repeated it over and over in her head before she opened her eyes.
“My stepbrother, Jonathan Ellis, is behind the bombings, and he’s the one who said I was mentally ill because he knew I went to the police in Seattle.”
Evie held her breath as she waited to hear what Jackson would say. Instead of talking, he let go of her neck and hands. His knee lifted from her back and she felt him standing over her.
Evie opened her eyes and looked up at him. There was just enough light to make out the features in the night. His face was set and the only way she could describe his look was a mask of “cop face.” There was no telling what was going on under the blank eyes and neutral expression.
“Let’s go inside and talk.”
Jackson’s cop face gave nothing away. Even his tone was completely neutral and it was scaring Evie to death. Was he going to detain her? Was he going to lock her in a mental facility? The kind man with the easy smile was gone, and now she didn’t know if she could trust him.
Jackson shut the back of the SUV, grabbed his duffle bag and the trash bag, and started walking up the stairs toward a darkened door. Evie looked around—nothing. There was no one to yell to for help and she had no clue where she was. Sure, she knew it was Keeneston, Kentucky, but where the heck was that?
Evie looked up at Jackson opening the door and turning on a light inside. He left the door open. It was up to her to walk through it. Evie took a deep breath. She’d liked Jackson. She’d begun to trust him. Harper trusted him. When the cards were on the table, she was completely alone. She needed help. All she had to do was ask for it.
Evie took the first step forward, then another and another. She walked into a cute little kitchen with a small table. She looked around for Jackson and found him in the living room right off the kitchen. He had the television on with the sound muted as he looked through all his list of recordings.
“I’ve missed two months of my shows,” Jackson said as he looked them over and decided to put on a University of Kentucky basketball game. “The team is looking good this year. Or so I have heard. I haven’t seen a game yet.”
Evie didn’t know if she should sit, leave, or what. He must have seen her looking around because he pointed to the chair opposite him. Evie took a seat and Jackson pinned her with his eyes, now the same dark gray as steel.
“Ready to tell me what’s going on?” Jackson finally asked with his cop face fully intact.
“Are you going to arrest me?” Evie cringed. That made her sound guilty.
“Depends. Did you commit a felony?”
Evie’s eyes darted around the room nervously. “Maybe? I don’t know. What constitutes a felony?”
“Did you blow up a building?” Jackson asked in such a way fear seemed to steal her voice from her. Fear of Jackson. He was scary and she’d made the wrong decision. She should have run. “Did you?”
Evie couldn’t find her voice so she shook her head in response.
“Did you kill someone?”
Again, she shook her head.
“Did you rob a bank? Kidnap anyone?”
Head shake.
“Did you lie to the police?”
Head shake.
“Did you plan any of those bombings?”
Head shake.
“Then what did you do, Evie?” Jackson asked, his eyes pinning her to her seat. She wasn’t able to look away from him if her life depended on it.
“I . . . I . . . I stole a license plate and put it on my car so Jon and the police couldn’t find me. And I gave Harper a fake social security number.” Evie slammed her mouth shut and put her hand over her lips. It was Jackson’s eyes. They seemed to demand the truth.
“Why?”
It was one word, but it was anything but simple.
“I walked into my apartment and found my stepbrother holding a meeting. A meeting where they discussed throwing Molotov cocktails into the Seattle tax building.”
“Why would they do that, Evie?” His voice seemed to wrap around her and squeeze the answers from her.
“It’s my fault,” she finally sputtered as tears broke free. “I didn’t see it coming. He’s been so angry. Angry at everything—his drugged-out father, my drugged-out mother, me trying to force him to grow up. He turned the rage into politics online. I was just happy to see him finally getting involved in something other than himself. I thought he was protesting for what he believed in, but it turned out what he believes in is anarchy. He blames the police for putting his mother in jail for drugs. He blames politicians for making the laws that his parents and he broke all the time. He blames big corporations for me bugging him to get a job. He blames the bank when he can’t or won’t pay his bills.”
Evie took a deep breath, her whole body trembling as her mind brought her back to her apartment looking into Jon’s room. “He was calling for violence. He doesn’t care if people are hurt. He said he’s proving a point. He said he was instilling fear to shut the system down. To throw us back to the prehistoric times when there were no rules, no law, no society. He mentioned hitting these targets on the way to their main target, some kind of grand finale, he says will bring the country to its knees. I opened the bedroom door and yelled at him. The look that he had on his face . . .” Evie shuddered. “It was like he wasn’t human. It makes your intimidating cop face as scary as a basket of kittens. Then he ordered his friends to get me. One of them shot through my windshield. I ran and I haven’t stopped running since.”
The story was finally out and Evie collapsed against the back of the chair. It felt as if she’d suddenly deflated. Someone else knew the truth. If she died, then they’d know who did it
.
“Tell me about the Silver Alert.” Jackson demanded in such a tone Evie snapped back up.
“I went right from the apartment to the police. I told them what I heard about the Molotov cocktails and plans to plant bombs but Jon called in a missing person’s report. He and one of the men who tried to kill me told the police I was mentally ill. Jon played the heartbroken brother caring for his poor sister and the other man said he was my doctor. He told them I’m schizophrenic and a danger to myself and others. The cop didn’t care what I said. It was easier to believe I was crazy. Who would believe a twenty-three year old, seemingly well-adjusted, well-spoken hipster could be behind a revolution? Only crazies with a million guns who live in cabins in the woods do that, right?”
Jackson didn’t answer. “What happened next?”
“I ran away. I got in the car and drove as far as I could.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
Evie actually snorted. “I did. I went to the police and they thought I was crazy. I threw my phone away so Jon couldn’t track it. Then I got a burner phone and called the police again. I pretended to be a reporter and while the police didn’t come right out and say it, they alluded to the chief suspect being a woman. I was afraid it was me so I didn’t call them back. Instead, I drove to Albuquerque.”
“Did you try again to contact the police?” Jackson asked.
Evie shook her head. “Nope. I found a payphone and called the FBI.”
Jackson nodded his head. “Good. Then they’re on this.”
“You don’t get it. They wouldn’t listen to me either. The guy I talked to figured out who I was and told me they were sending a car for me to get me safely home since there was a Silver Alert on me.”
She felt victorious when Jackson’s cop face slipped and he looked surprised. “What? Who did you talk to? Some rookie?”
Forever Freed Page 8