by Lynn Shannon
“I know, but he’s going after these people because of me. To torture and hurt me. It’s…”
“Sick and demented.” He pinned her with a look. “And not your fault.”
“Doesn’t feel that way.”
“Do you blame your dad? The Chessmaster is aiming for you, because of actions your dad took.”
“My dad didn’t do anything—” Her gaze narrowed. “I see where you’re going with this.”
“Good.” He stole another sip of her coffee, wincing at the sugary sweetness. “And next time you order coffee, can you make it black? This stuff is awful.”
She swiped the cup back. “No one is forcing you to drink it.”
The backyard gate clanged shut. Luke came around the side of the house seconds later. His expression was thunderous. “Mike Steel is missing.”
“How?” Weston stood. “He was being watched by undercover officers.”
“Apparently, he hasn’t been home since Rachel went missing. His lawyer claims Mike isn’t under arrest and is free to leave town. He refuses to disclose his client’s location. I’m getting a court order to compel him to tell us, but honestly, I suspect he doesn’t know.”
“So we can’t eliminate Mike as a suspect,” Avery said. “And things with Tom are as clear as mud.”
“Fill me in,” Luke said.
Weston hooked his thumbs on his pockets. “Tom’s computers are locked down with a security password, so it’s taking time to get into them. We have a BOLO out on his SUV. There’s no sign of Rachel anywhere in the house, although the techs are still fingerprinting. We’ve also confirmed Nolan and Tom are half-brothers.”
“How?”
“Tom’s mom. Additionally, Tom visited Nolan in prison and listed himself as a brother in their records. He was Nolan’s emergency contact.”
Luke rocked back on his heels. “So we can’t eliminate anyone as a suspect. Nolan, Tom, or Mike could be behind this.”
“I—” Avery’s phone rang. She glanced at the number and paled. “It’s blocked.”
The Chessmaster. Weston pulled out his own cell and started recording. “Answer it, Avery.”
She squared her shoulders and hit the button flashing on the screen. “Hello.”
“Congratulations, Avery.” The man used a voice distorter, as he had during the previous phone call. “You saved my brother’s house before it burned to the ground. He’ll be happy.”
“I want to speak with Tom,” Avery said.
“He’s indisposed at the moment.”
Weston’s gaze narrowed. The killer was playing with them. Tom could be the Chessmaster, or he could be one of his victims. They had no way of knowing for sure.
“Where is Rachel?” she asked.
The Chessmaster laughed.
The killer actually laughed. Weston gripped his cell phone harder and took a deep breath to keep his emotions in check. This man was never going to see the outside of a jail cell. He would make sure of it.
“Right to the point, aren’t you, Avery? As a matter of fact, Rachel is the reason I’m calling. I’ve been thinking about what you said during our last phone call. You’re right. It’s not fair to remove your chess pieces without providing an opportunity to get one back.”
Chess pieces. The man was talking about people, not that he cared. But the words chewed through Weston’s gut with their coldness.
“So I would like to propose a trade,” he continued. “You for Rachel.”
Weston’s breath lodged in his chest. He wouldn’t let the killer anywhere near Avery.
Not on his watch. Not ever.
Avery arched her brows. “I want a guarantee you won’t hurt Rachel. And I want proof she’s alive.”
“It’s already done. Tell Ranger Donovan to check his email.”
Weston quickly scrolled to the right app on his phone. Indeed there was a new email, sent moments ago. The sender was listed as the Chessmaster. He opened it, every heartbeat thundering in his ears. Rachel’s wide eyes stared back at him from the screen. Terror was etched across her features. She was sitting in a dark room next to a television tuned to a local news channel broadcasting live from Tom’s house.
Avery lifted her own phone closer to her mouth. A vein in her forehead throbbed. “When and where?”
“I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon with further instructions.”
Grass crunched under Weston’s boots as he swept the perimeter of the Madison house with his flashlight. His nerves were on edge and he couldn’t sleep. The team had spent hours developing a plan to ambush the Chessmaster during the trade for Rachel, but there were too many unknowns to make it foolproof.
His cell phone beeped with an incoming text message. After reading it, he circled to the front of the house.
Grady got out of his truck. “Thought you might want an update, not that it’s a great one.”
Weston’s shoulders tightened. “We’ve still got nothing.”
“Yep. We can’t determine if Tom is the Chessmaster, or one of his victims. Tom left work around six. A neighbor saw an SUV like the one Tom drives in the neighborhood around six thirty, but she didn’t notice who was behind the wheel. There weren’t any fingerprints in the house other than Tom’s.”
“His cell phone?”
“Missing. We’ve tried pinging it, but it’s been turned off. The last known location was the post office parking lot.” Grady zipped his jacket closed. “The Chessmaster could’ve ambushed Tom as he left work. Incapacitated him, turned off his cell, and drove Tom’s vehicle—with Tom inside—to his house. Staged the mannequin, started the fire, and booked it.”
Weston raked a hand through his hair. “Or Tom turned his cell off when he left work, drove home, staged the scene, set the fire, and left.”
Grady nodded. “I tried tracing the Chessmaster’s phone call along with the email he sent you, but like I said before, this guy is tech savvy. We’ve got nothing so far. Investigators will keep working on it, but unless something breaks free—”
“Avery will go through with the trade.” Weston’s teeth clenched. “It’s a trap. The killer understands police procedure. He’ll be counting on us to protect her, but I guarantee he has a plan around it.”
“Avery understands the risk. She accepts them.” Grady paused, his tone softening. “I don’t normally push into your business, Weston, but this time there’s no choice. I know you have feelings for Avery. Are they going to cloud your judgment during this operation?”
Heat flared in Weston’s cheeks as a mixture of embarrassment and pride wrestled for use of his tongue. He would never allow his personal feelings to interfere with his job. At least…not until today. Hadn’t he acted like a caged bear at the strategy meeting? Who was he kidding? Grady was right to ask.
Weston took a deep breath. “I have feelings for Avery and I’m worried about using her as bait, but I can handle it.”
Grady nodded. “We’re going to keep her safe, Weston.”
“I know we’re going to do everything possible, but nothing is certain.” Weston was gripped with the same terrorizing powerlessness as when Melissa’s cancer became terminal. It clamped down on him, making every breath painful. “I care about her, Grady, and it’s my own fault for getting in this deep. I knew better than to get involved with a cop. Avery walks into danger, not out of it.”
“So do you.”
“But…” Weston didn’t know how to explain. The devastation of losing his wife was a heavy scar on his heart. The pain had dulled, but the mark lingered, a reminder of the cost when he fell in love. “There’s too much risk.”
“People die in car accidents. From heart attacks. Aneurysms. I don’t think it’s Avery’s profession that’s holding you back.” Grady shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. “Before she passed, Melissa told me to encourage you to date.”
“You never said anything before.”
“You weren’t ready to hear it. But now, it’s important you do. I know you loved Melissa and she loved you. Bu
t Weston, she wanted you to have a full and happy life. So does God.” Grady turned to face him. “From my point of view, you haven’t so much as looked at another woman since Melissa died. Until Avery. I don’t believe that’s an accident.”
Deep inside, Weston didn’t either. There was something about Avery that got under his skin and into his heart in a way no one else had.
“Love is a decision, Weston, just like faith.” Grady clapped him on the back. “Choose wisely, my friend.”
He nodded. Grady left, and Weston watched the ranger’s taillights fade. The quiet stillness of the night settled around him. His fingers went to the chain around his neck. He freed the wedding rings from under his shirt, his thumb tracing the familiar orbs.
Weston lifted his gaze to the starlit sky. Lord, I need help.
Eighteen
Avery paced her office, coffee mug in hand. She’d switched to water after her third cup of coffee, but nothing was taking the edge off her exhaustion. In theory, going home to sleep after the strategy meeting last night had been a good idea. In actuality, she’d tossed and turned. Her cell phone sat on her desk.
“We’ve got SWAT on standby and undercover officers as well,” Luke said. “Everyone is ready to mobilize when the Chessmaster calls. Technicians will outfit you with a camera and microphone.”
She nodded and took a drink of water. “I suspect he’ll arrange to meet somewhere on campus. Open house events are happening all day. The sheer number of people will make it difficult to trap him.”
Luke shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s difficult to know what to expect. Debra Channing’s funeral is this afternoon. That may be the meeting place.”
“Nana’s at the church with Savannah, setting up for the funeral, and there are news crews already out front. It’ll be difficult for the Chessmaster to slip in with Rachel and escape without being noticed. Doesn’t mean he won’t try, but I think he’s smarter than that.”
He scowled. “Honestly, Avery, I don’t like any of this. There are too many variables we can’t account for.”
She didn’t know what to say. Avery wanted to get Rachel back, and she was willing to sacrifice herself to do it, but she didn’t want anyone else hurt in the process. Her hand tightened on the coffee mug and she glanced at her cell phone.
Luke followed her gaze and stepped closer. “No one would blame you for backing out.”
His tone was gentle and concern was threaded in it. She met his gaze. “I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try.”
He shook his head. “You proved my wife right yet again. Megan told me that’s what you would say.” Luke shrugged. “But I had to make sure.”
“Thank you. I’m lucky to count you and Megan as my friends.” She checked her watch. “Do you know where Weston is? He disappeared over an hour ago.”
“I’m right here,” Weston said from the doorway behind her.
Butterflies fluttered in Avery’s stomach. She turned. Weston’s expression was carefully blank and he carried a bag in one hand. Since the Chessmaster’s phone call yesterday, Weston had been…she didn’t quite know how to describe it. Not rude. No, he’d never be that.
Distant.
It was the only word that came to mind. Like there was a wall around him, preventing Avery from reaching him. It was a self-defense mechanism. Mentally, she knew that. But the loss of his support cut her, far more than she’d anticipated and so much deeper than if Weston was merely a boyfriend. It’d taken her most of the night to figure out why.
She was falling in love with him.
When it happened, Avery didn’t know. Maybe it’d been lingering under the surface for days, but the fear of getting hurt kept her from facing the truth. But last night, lying in bed, thinking about what would happen today, there was no refuting it.
“Luke, can I have a moment alone with Avery?” Weston asked.
“Sure.” The ranger pushed away from the table. “I’m going to check the microphone/camera setup. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
Weston shut the door to Avery’s office. The blinds along the other windows were closed, affording them privacy.
Avery set her mug on the desk. “What’s in the bag?”
“Something for you.” He pulled out a tactical knife. It was a fixed blade with a serrated spine and a drop-point blade. “I know you carry a pocket knife, but this one is stronger. Bigger.”
Avery crossed the room. Every step made her more aware of Weston. The sharp curves of his face, the small nick on his chin where he’d cut himself shaving, the way his shirt molded over his chest. Those butterflies inside her stomach took flight. She wanted to step on her tiptoes and brush her mouth against his.
Instead, Avery took the knife and tested the grip. It was lightweight and fit her hand perfectly. The blade shimmered under the fluorescent light as she swiped it through the air. The balance was smooth. “It’s fantastic.”
He pulled out a black band from the bag. “This sheath goes around your waist, above the duty belt. It’ll place the knife here.” Weston reached around and his fingers brushed the small of her back. “The blade will be concealed under your shirt, but still accessible with your right hand.”
He didn’t say it, but she heard the words all the same. Just in case. Avery carried protection on her duty belt, but if the Chessmaster got close enough to completely disarm her, there was a chance he would miss the hidden knife.
Avery’s chest squeezed tight and it hurt to breathe. The gift was beyond thoughtful. “Thank you, Weston.”
“You’re welcome.”
She put the knife and sheath back inside the bag. It was something to keep her hands busy, while her mind struggled to find the right words to say. “Weston, I know you disagree with my decision, but if there’s any way to bring Rachel home, I have to take it. No matter the risk to myself.”
“I know.” He sighed. “My attitude has been less than stellar since last night, and I’m sorry. Honestly, if the roles were reversed, I’d make the same decision you are. It’s our job.”
Some of the weight lifted from her shoulders. She set the bag on her desk. “I can’t blame you for being upset. None of this is easy.”
“No, but I haven’t approached it the right way either. Last night, I spent a lot of time praying and soul-searching. About me and you. About us.”
He looped his fingers around a chain hanging from his neck and pulled it over his head. Something dangled from the necklace. It took Avery a moment to realize it was two gold rings. One was large enough for a man, the other made for a woman.
Wedding rings. Avery’s gaze lifted to meet Weston’s. She couldn’t read his expression, and a small bite of panic took hold. Was he about to tell her they were done? Now?
“Weston, I—”
“Let me say this, please.” He cupped her shoulder gently, still holding up the rings. “I’ve been wearing these since the day Melissa died. I thought they were a reminder of my marriage and everything I’d lost. But I was wrong. I’m wearing them as a symbol of what’s possible.”
She searched his face. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“It’s not a fear of moving on that’s holding me back, Avery. I was nervous about choosing the wrong person to do it with. Rushing into a relationship to fill the void in my life would dishonor the love Melissa showed me was attainable. That’s why I’m wearing the rings. As a reminder to wait until the right person comes into my life.” Weston traced his hand down her sleeve and lifted her hand. He dropped the rings in Avery’s open palm and closed her fingers around them. “But I don’t need to wear them anymore. Because I found you.”
Her breath caught and tears blurred her vision. She struggled to get words past the lump in her throat but failed.
“I’m falling in love with you, Avery.” Weston cupped her face in his hands. He swiped at her cheeks, wiping away the water on them. “My timing is terrible—”
“No,” she choked out. Avery understood why he’d said it now. A
s law enforcement, they were intimately familiar with the knowledge that tomorrow isn't promised. She placed a hand over his heart, the fabric of Weston’s shirt soft under her palm. “I did some soul-searching and praying myself last night. I’m falling in love with you too.”
His breath hitched. “Avery—”
“I’ve been trying to figure out all morning if I should tell you.” Her chin trembled. “I knew you were hurting and I didn’t want to make it worse.”
“You’re always thinking about everyone else, sweetheart.” His tone a mixture of affection and exacerbation. Weston wiped more tears from her cheeks. “When this is over, I’m going to take you out for a date. Our first date.”
She laughed through her tears. “Chasing serial killers doesn’t count, huh?”
“No, it doesn’t. There’s a candlelight dinner with your name on it.” He smiled, his thumb gently tracing her lower lip. “And the next present I buy you won’t be a weapon.”
He lowered his head and kissed her. Avery’s legs went weak as her heart swelled with emotion. He undid her. Here, with Weston, she was safe and protected. There was a job to do, but for this one second, she allowed herself to forget about everything but him.
A knock on the door made them both jump. They called out “hold on” simultaneously and then grinned. Avery wrapped her arms around Weston’s neck and pulled him down for another kiss. Her mouth brushed against his, and then she backed away.
She ran a hand over her hair and then her face. “Can you tell I’ve been crying? Or kissing you?”
“No.” A smile curved his lips. “You look beautiful.”
Their gazes caught and held. Her already accelerated heartbeat quickened. Avery opened her mouth, but Weston’s cell phone rang, cutting her off. He glanced at the caller ID before his gaze shot to her. “It’s your grandmother.”
Avery stiffened. Nana wouldn’t call Weston unless there was an emergency. He put the call on speaker. “Marla, what is it?”
“It’s Savannah. We can’t find her.”
Weston drove to the church in five minutes flat, lights flashing and sirens blaring. The warmth of those stolen moments in the office with Avery were replaced by hard reality. He hadn’t known Savannah very long but considered her a friend. Yet whatever worry he was feeling was a drop in the bucket compared to Avery.