Innocent Lies

by Robin Patchen

  "Then what were we doing, wasting time?"

  "Our friend Barry Durant has an office right across the street from McNeal's."

  Eric looked behind him, though the building was already receding from view. "I'd forgotten that. He works in that accounting firm on the second floor."

  "Yeah. He left his house, went to the office. He's been inside all this time. With all those windows, we thought maybe he'd see us at McNeal's or out front. No idea what he was doing, but we figured we'd make it look like we had no idea what was going on."

  "But if he's watching, he knows Kelsey isn't with us now."

  "That text I got inside told me he just left. Jimmy's following him."

  Durant was on the move. The deal was going down right now. "Tell me the details."

  "First, you should know that Garrison's friend at the Bureau is working on connecting that screen name, TakeTwo, with our friend Durant. The message today leads us to believe Durant and Otero are going to make the exchange outside of town. We don't know exactly where, but we know it'll be off Route 24 near Post Road."

  Eric thought about that location. It was on the far side of the lake. Not close to Kelsey by car, but as the crow flies, close enough. He shook off the thought. It didn't matter. Kelsey was safe. Nobody knew where she was. "There's that abandoned horse farm just west of there."

  Brady was quiet a minute, then nodded. "That's right. I was focused on the corner. I didn't think of that place."

  "It'd be perfect for a clandestine meeting."

  "Good, good."

  Brady dialed his phone and relayed the information to the team. "Jimmy confirms they're headed that way. I've got a couple of guys already out there."

  "What if they tip them off?"

  "They're in plain clothes and driving personal vehicles. We know what we're doing."

  Eric nodded, silent. Brady was good at what he did. Eric had seen him bring down drug rings and rescue hostages and catch thieves. He'd never doubted his boss before, but this was different. This was Eric's life. This was Kelsey's life and Daniel's life. They were close to making it all work out.

  Brady took back roads to approach the horse farm from the opposite side. When they were close, he turned onto a narrow strip that was more path than driveway, barely wide enough for his new pickup. Trees and bushes lined both sides and brushed the paint job.

  "I should have brought the old truck," Brady said, wincing with every scratching sound.

  He continued slowly, bouncing over the rough terrain as they neared the old barn. He parked where the trees would hide them, about ten feet from the edge of the unused horse pasture. The snow had picked up. It would help to conceal them but make it harder for them to see what was going on.

  They both focused on the weathered building a hundred yards away.

  "We should get closer," Eric said.

  "For all we know, Otero and Ruiz are already here. That barn door is easily big enough for a car to drive through. There's not enough cover."

  Brady was right. Eric was just antsy, dying to do something, anything, besides sit there. "If we're wrong..."

  "Jimmy's following Durant," Brady said. "If we're in the wrong spot, he'll know it. I got ten guys on this, Eric. We're good."

  "Why isn't Durant here yet? He left before us."

  "Good question." Brady called Jimmy. Apparently, Durant had stopped at the grocery store. Even criminals needed to stock up for storms.

  "He's leaving the store now," Jimmy said.

  After Brady ended the call, Eric voiced his fear. "What if Durant picks up the tail?"

  "The other guys are all around. If Jimmy thinks Durant's on to him, he'll turn off, and someone else will pick it up."

  Eric imagined a game of tag, cars moving in and out. They might be a small-town force, but with Brady's expertise—the guy'd been an MP in the military and then a detective in Boston—they were all well trained. They could do this.

  Brady's phone vibrated. He connected the call through Bluetooth. "What's going on?"

  "You were right." It was Jimmy's voice. "Durant's headed to the farm."

  A wide smile split Brady's face. "Excellent. Everyone's in place?"

  "I'm circling to watch from the other side. We got guys stationed on the road in both directions. They won't get away."

  "Good job. Keep a low profile." Brady ended the call, leaned forward. "There he is."

  Sure enough, a black SUV—looked like a Lincoln Navigator—turned into the driveway and drove toward the old barn. A moment later, it stopped, and a man climbed out.

  "I got eyes in the glove box," Brady said.

  Eric opened it, grabbed the binoculars, and peered through.

  And there he was. Barry Durant. Round face, clean shaven, brown hair with a bad comb-over, pale freckly skin. The guy's butt looked like it would require two seats on an airplane. His gut would keep the tray table from lying flat.

  "A man with a voracious appetite," Brady said.

  An appetite for food, obviously. And money. And girls.

  Eric took his handgun from its holster, clicked off the safety.

  Brady did the same, then looked through the binoculars himself.

  Durant walked toward the barn. Halfway between it and his SUV, he stopped, looked around, checked his watch. Then he took out his cell phone.

  Durant talked, his blubber jiggling, snow falling all around. It was a light snow, and he brushed it off his shoulders.

  The man pocketed the cell and lumbered toward the barn.

  "Maybe you're right." Eric had to force his voice to sound normal. Excitement pulsed with adrenaline through his veins. "Maybe Otero and Ruiz are in there already."

  Durant reached the barn door and pulled it open.

  Eric's excitement laced his next words. "We gotta get closer, gotta get eyes—"

  An explosion ripped through the silence.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Before he could think, before he could process it, Eric was out the door, running flat-out toward the burning barn. Because Durant was his only hope. Durant was the only connection to Otero, their only chance of bringing him down, putting him in prison, saving their lives.

  He couldn't be dead.

  Eric burst out of the trees, aimed for the barn.

  "Wait!" Brady's voice was muffled, as if he'd shouted through water. Everything was muffled now. The explosion had deafened him.

  Eric pressed on, running faster.

  A force hit him from behind. He landed in the snow-covered grass. A heavy body rolled off him.

  Brady had tackled him.

  Eric fought to get away, to run again. Because to stop meant to think. And to think meant to face it. Face that their only chance for a normal life had just gone up in smoke. Face that, once again, his life had blown up.

  He rolled over, pulled his fist back. Froze.

  Brady froze, too. Then, slowly, he sat back on his knees, breathing hard. "You throw that punch," he said, his voice still faint to Eric's weak ears, "I'll have your butt thrown in jail."

  Eric dropped his arm. He rose to his knees. His head fell forward.

  "You're fast for a little guy," Brady said.

  If Brady didn't have five inches on him—and Eric was nearly six feet tall—he'd have made it. "We can't all be mutants."

  Eric lifted his gaze to the barn. Or what was left of it. Flames rose from the ancient boards, the only color against the backdrop of gray clouds and fluttering snow.

  "You think there's any chance...?"

  Brady stared, too. "No. That explosion was the definition of overkill. I can't imagine how anyone could have survived." He stood and stared, and Eric did, too. The barn was in flames. His muffled hearing picked up a loud crack, then a smash as a rafter fell.

  Brady stood and started walking forward. "Come on. Let's see what we can find."

  They jogged across the pasture as cars pulled down the drive. There'd been ten cops on this. Ten men wasted their Sunday to watch Barry Durant
die.

  To watch Eric's life float away with the ashes.

  The place where the door had once stood was empty now. This entire side of the structure had been blown apart. The rest was collapsing in front of their eyes. Eric peered through the smoke for signs of life, of movement. As if anything could have survived.

  He couldn't even see the body.

  He didn't want to think about what had become of Barry Durant.

  He took a step forward, but Brady's grip on his arm stopped him. "We're not getting any closer. For all we know, there are more bombs."

  Eric stared at the flames, already burning out in the cold damp air.

  What was he doing? There was nothing for him here, not now. His life wasn't Nutfield. His life wasn't his job. His life was Kelsey. Kelsey and Daniel. They were what mattered now.

  Brady said, "What are you thinking?"

  His hearing was coming back, and Brady's voice suddenly sounded too loud. "Can I borrow your truck?"

  His friend narrowed his eyes, considered him. A moment passed while police officers milled about on the road. Far away, a siren roared.

  "You have a plan?" Brady asked.

  He nodded but said, "Not really."

  "You'll need a different car, as soon as possible."

  "I'll buy something."

  Brady turned back to the barn. "They must have known we were on to them. Maybe they're long gone."

  "You believe that?"

  Brady met his eyes. "Keys are in the ignition. Just let me know where you leave it."

  Eric turned toward the car, but Brady grabbed his shoulder, pulled him close, and slapped him on the back. "We'll catch this guy. It won't take long. So keep in touch."

  Eric nodded once, turned, and jogged away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Kelsey paced across the small cabin, front window to back, her heart pounding, her feet itching to run.

  Magic matched her step-for-step, as if the dog were worried, too. Worried about her master and best friend. Kelsey and the dog were in this together now. They'd both lost him.

  She was getting way ahead off herself. But hope was as elusive as the skittering snowflakes outside. Only it melted much faster.

  "I'm sure they're fine," Rae said, but the fear in her voice belied her words.

  "You can't be sure of anything," Kelsey snapped. She took a deep breath. She should apologize, of course. Except apologizing might mean this well of anger would empty. And she knew what lay beneath that anger. She couldn't let the despair win.

  Everything had been fine.

  She and Rae had come back to this cabin, a charming updated two-bedroom with a patio that reached all the way to the dock suspended over the lake. Rae explained that she'd taken Johnny to his grandparents' house to spend the night. When Kelsey had protested, Rae'd brushed off her concern.

  "Are you kidding? Grandma and Grandpa are loving it."

  "How about you, though? Don't you miss him?" Her voice had caught as the image of Daniel had filled her mind.

  Rae'd only squeezed her shoulders. "You'll see your son again soon."

  Then, Rae had told her a story about this cabin, a story about Nate and Marisa and their daughter, Ana, who'd been kidnapped. Kelsey'd been amazed at what the couple had gone through. These were the people who were caring for Daniel right now. And to hear Rae tell it, they were brave and kind and wonderful.

  Back then, minutes ago that felt like hours, Kelsey had been filled with hope. This was all going to work out. Rae didn't know all the details, but she knew Brady had been optimistic about whatever he'd had planned. Brady'd believed that by the end of the day, they'd have Carlos and Barry Durant in custody.

  But that was before.

  Because in the middle of some story Rae was sharing—some childhood escapade involving herself, Sam, and Brady—something had exploded.

  It had drowned out Rae's words, rattled the dishes, and changed everything.

  A moment later, Donny'd knocked on the door. Rae'd let him in, and he explained what had happened.

  A barn. A bomb. Eric and Brady had been close. Everyone thought Durant was dead. No reason to believe Brady and Eric were hurt, but nobody'd been able to reach them. No reason to worry, though. That's what Donny said. No reason to fall apart.

  Rae seemed to believe the man.

  Kelsey wished she could. If only Eric had promised to come back to her. Irrational, she knew, to be angry about that. Irrational to think the promise would have protected him.

  Another two minutes passed. Maybe three.

  Kelsey continued to pace. Magic walked with her, bumping her side, whining. What did the dog know? Could she sense her master was in trouble? Worse?

  A cell phone rang, and Kelsey whirled around as Rae reached for hers. She answered and held the device to her ear. Her breath whooshed out, and she met Kelsey's eyes, smiled and gave her a thumbs-up as she spoke to whomever was on the line.

  Thank God, thank God, thank God.

  More tears fell. Eric was all right. Whatever happened, it would be all right, as long as he and Daniel were alive and safe.

  Rae ended the call, dialed another, and handed the phone to Kelsey.

  She took it, swallowed. It rang twice before...

  "Nolan here."

  "Eric..." She couldn't get anything else out.

  "I'm okay," he said. "I was just about to call. We were in Brady's truck."

  When she still couldn't get any words out, he said, "Are you okay?"

  She nodded as if he could see her. Sniffed. "Yeah. Just... Yeah. We felt it here, the explosion. I was sure..."

  "Not a scratch. Listen." He took a long breath and blew it out. "I'm sorry, Kelsey. I know the last thing you want is to go on the run again, but I don't know what else to do. This was our last play."

  She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined her husband's house, the comfort she'd felt there, the sense of home she hadn't known in a decade. All gone now, not just to her, but to Eric, too. Everything she'd hoped to avoid, it was all happening. She'd spent a decade trying to protect Eric from this. She'd failed so completely, it was almost laughable. Except she only wanted to cry. "I'm sorry. I ruined—"

  "Don't start with that, Kels. We discussed this already. You and me. Together. We don't separate again."

  She swallowed her protest. He was right. They could survive, if they were together. She doubted either of them could survive alone.

  "I'm going to come get you, but I need to make sure nobody's watching me first. I'm going to town. I'll hang out at the station. If anybody's watching me, they'll think I'm working. I'm going to leave my Jeep here. Hopefully, if anybody's watching, they'll focus on the Jeep. When I feel like it's safe, I'll head your direction."

  "What about Daniel?"

  "When you and I are safely away, when we have a fresh car and we're sure nobody is following us, we'll call Nate. But not until then, okay? No reason to take unnecessary risks."

  "We need to know where he is. We need to know..." Panic laced her words.

  "If we don't know where he is, then we can't tell anybody. God forbid they get their hands on us, we don't want to be able to tell anybody where he is."

  "Right." She could hardly speak through her tight throat, the layer of fear and panic. "You're right. Thank you for protecting him, Eric. I can't even—"

  "He'll be safe," Eric said. "Get your things together. I'll call when I'm on my way."

  "How long do you think?"

  "I don't know. An hour, maybe? Two? Not too long."

  "Feels like forever."

  "No, Kelsey." His words were suddenly soft, gentle. "Forever is what we'll have when we're together. This will be nothing."

  "I love you, Eric."

  "I love you. Always." The call ended, and she held the phone to her chest and let his voice settle deep. An hour, maybe two, and then they'd be together forever.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Vanessa was in the front seat.

  Carlos had
practically beamed at her when she'd told him about Samantha Messenger's properties. He'd dispatched Mateo in one of the rental cars she'd reserved to search for Kelsey.

  "But, my friend, don't you think I can be of more service at your side?" Mateo had asked. "Perhaps Vanessa can go instead."

  "I need Vanessa with me."

  Carlos's reply had sent hope through her heart. Perhaps Carlos could see her as more than property. Perhaps they could be partners in his business. Because as much as Vanessa longed for escape, for an independent life like Samantha Messenger enjoyed, she had no idea how to be alone.

  Mateo had been his usual polite self, bowing slightly before he'd left. But Vanessa had seen that glare in his eyes when he'd glanced at her.

  She'd returned it with a smile of triumph.

  The feeling of triumph didn't last long, because as soon as Mateo left, Carlos explained why he needed her. It had nothing to do with her intelligence or the fact that she'd helped him. It had everything to do with her body and her face.

  She cursed the God who'd made her female.

  She and Carlos waited in the car while snow fell all around them and accumulated on the roads. She wanted to ask Carlos if he knew how to drive when it was slippery. She doubted he did. She didn't know much about where things were in the world, but she'd looked up Carlos's home country of Venezuela once. It had a tropical climate.

  Of course, Carlos's mother and sister lived in America, somewhere in the west. Maybe he'd learned to drive in the snow there. Vanessa could be no help. She'd only recently learned to drive, and only because Carlos had been kind enough to give her lessons. She'd passed her driver's test and, as a reward, Carlos had given her a little sports car. At least she could feel free, even if she wasn't free. Even if guards followed her everywhere she went.

  Carlos was getting antsy. He scanned the radio stations, tapped the wheel in time to the beat of the song he'd chosen. He munched on a bag of chips she'd brought from the hotel's minibar. He didn't offer her any.