Alana Candler, Marked for Murder (32 page)

“That’s a lie.”

Brad leaned across the table and stuck his nose right in Martin’s face. “Strands, you’re about to go down as an accomplice for attempted murder and maybe murder-one if you don’t start telling the truth. What’s the woman’s name you were with all night?”

“I’m tellin’ the truth, man.”

“Then give me a name.”

Brad leaned away from the table and walked to the other side of the room, never taking his eyes from Martin’s face.

Martin struggled with himself before blurting out. “Okay, her name is Jasper Jenkins. Just don’t tell Alana, okay? She won’t understand. Jasper and I’ve had a date every Friday night for the last few months-—at the Comfort Inn in Reeds. The hotel manager knows my father. Call him and he’ll tell you. I was there last Friday night and every Friday night. The maid that works on Saturday morning saw us leaving. She can tell you too. Call her.”

Martin’s whining only disgusted Brad. As tough as Martin acted, seeing him reduced to a whimpering child made Brad sick. He nodded to Vernon standing in the corner, and they both walked out the door. One of his men stood guard outside the door as he turned to Vernon.

“Call the hotel, Vernon. Talk to the manager and get the maid’s contact information. Then call this Jasper Jenkins and see what she has to say.”

Vernon nodded and left Brad standing outside the two-way mirror watching Martin sweat through the tinted glass. If he was telling the truth, then he couldn’t have kidnapped Alana or been involved with the murders. The last two murders were on Friday nights.

Fifteen minutes later, Vernon came into Brad’s office. Dread had Brad holding his head in his hands.

“Bad news, Chief. The hotel manager confirmed what Strands said. He checks in every Friday night with the same woman—Jasper Jenkins. I called her number and got her roommate, who confirmed she goes out every Friday night with Strands and never comes home till morning. The hotel maid said she saw them leaving late Saturday morning—the night after Alana was kidnapped.”

Brad sucked in a defeated breath between his teeth and puffed it back out again. “Let Strands go, Vernon. Tell him not to leave town until we say so. I’m gonna call Jaydn. I need to let Alana know Martin’s not involved with her kidnapping.”

Brad leaned back in his chair to add this new information to his list of clues in this investigation. Lately, he’d been going one step forward, then two steps back. Now it seemed he was back to square one.

SIXTY-SIX

JAYDN SAT WITH ALANA IN
a navy blue Honda Accord and stared out the window. After an hour of trading cars and making one unexpected turn after another, he was comfortable making the final turns toward the cabin.

Alana was silent. She had been quiet since his men brought them a new car in the cul-de-sac. Was she finally curious about what he was doing? The apartment. The cabin. The multitude of plush “company” cars he summoned with one phone call. The unlimited access to a helicopter. These events
had
to make her curious. Had she finally pieced together the facts?

Even as he formulated these thoughts in his head, she turned in the seat to face him. Curiosity seasoned her words, and confusion sharpened her tone.

“Jaydn, I’d like to ask you some questions.”

Dread made him feel as though his face might crack. His eyes never left the road, but his breathing slowed.

He quietly replied, “What’s that?”

“You told me the apartment in Ross belonged to your company. What about the helicopter, and the cars you’ve been driving? Do they belong to your company as well?”

Jaydn nodded warily. “Yes.”

She looked at him for the longest minute of his life.

“And?” She waited patiently for him to supply an explanation, but when none was forthcoming, she pushed for more. “What aren’t you telling me?”

The air seeped from his lungs like a deflating balloon
.
The moment he’d been dreading since the trip to her apartment in Ross was here. He had to tell her the truth.

“Alana, the company does own all those things, but what I haven’t told you is . . . I own the company.”

The statement was flat and without emotion, but Alana jerked back as if she had been burned. She slowly nodded. The next question took forever to leave her lips.

“What’s the name of your company, Jaydn?”

“International Enterprises.”

She shook her head. “I should have realized. The expensive office building. The luxury cars. Helicopters summoned at your command.”

At first, she seemed surprised, but then he felt her tense. The truth hit her like a tidal wave, and he could feel her anger in the air.

“You lied to me.”

“No, Alana. I never lied. Legally, the company does own it all. I just didn’t tell you that I own the company.”

“Not telling me the whole truth is the same as lying.”

The words sizzled in the air. Her face was red. He was sure it was both from anger and embarrassment. She was angry that he kept the truth from her and embarrassed because she exposed her heart to him. She confided the pain of her past experiences with rich, aristocratic bosses to someone who obviously fit into the same mold.

“So you own International Enterprises.” Her lips puckered as if the statement was bitter when it rolled out of her mouth. The next sentence she spat at him as if it burned her tongue. “International Enterprises!” She turned to glare him down. “You own the building the orphanage is leasing?”

Jaydn flinched. The strongest wish he had at that moment was to be someone else. To be able to say, no, he knew nothing about the lease with the orphanage. The shame and anguish of having to answer was nothing in comparison to the humiliation of her knowing the vile and greedy thing he’d done.

“You’re the one forcing the orphanage to move.”

She wasn’t expecting him to answer. Her tone implied she already knew the answer. All her past relationships would have warned her about the type of man he was. In her experience, wealthy businessmen were only concerned with making more money—not the people’s lives they damaged while filling their bank accounts.

“I don’t know what to say, Jaydn. Except that after this is over, I don’t want to see you again. You’re not the person I thought you were.”

If his face could have felt any hotter, it did at that moment. Pain and shame burned inside of him. He pulled the car off the road onto an overgrown gravel driveway and turned to stare out the window. He couldn’t look at the accusations in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Alana. I promise I didn’t know the people renting the building were running an orphanage.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I will admit, I told my lawyer to check into seeing if we could get the tenant to move, but I didn’t know it was an orphanage.”

She crossed her arms and threw him a pained expression. Her stance proved she was dying a slow emotional death.

“I didn’t want to lie to you, Alana. You made it no secret that you despise wealthy business owners. They’re ‘tyrants in suits,’ remember? After hearing you rant about it, are you really surprised that I didn’t mention it?” He shook his head regretfully. “I felt a closeness to you I’ve never felt with anyone before. My heart seemed to bond with yours, but I was afraid to tell you that I . . . have a successful business. I was afraid it would influence your opinion of me.”

Alana glared at him. “Do you think?”

The silence in the car grew deafening.

She turned to him and studied his face. Then, unexpectedly, she sighed deeply.

“Jaydn, I’d be lying if I said I don’t feel a special attraction when you’re near, but I just can’t get past the way you deceived me. Relationships are built on trust—not deception. The experiences I’ve had with rich businessmen have never turned out well. They’ve always used money for power and personal
projects
, not caring who it would hurt. And now, it seems you fit right into that mold, just like all the others. I can’t handle going through another relationship like that.”

He said nothing but put the car in gear and pulled back out onto the road. His jaw line tightened with each mile.

Regret weighed heavily on him. He had tried to keep the truth from her to protect what they might feel for each other.

Who are you kidding, Holbrook? You kept the truth from her for purely selfish reasons. Now, you’ve hurt her.

A quick glance to the right revealed the pain etched deep in her features. The pain he felt radiating from her traveled across the seat and into the center of his heart, but there was nothing he could say to make it better.

SIXTY-SEVEN

THE INSIDE OF THE CAR
was static with tension as the two men watched the red lights of the distant car in front of them disappear around the bend. The driver’s breathing was suppressed —as if he thought their breathing could be heard by the occupants of the car in front of them.

The younger man turned to the driver and said in a low voice, “How’d you know where to find them?”

“The boss dropped a tracking device in the lady’s purse.” After they turned the corner quietly and slowed the car to a crawl, the passenger spoke with suppressed anger. “I don’t like this kidnapping idea. Why can’t we take ’em out, then go some place the cops won’t find us—like we planned?”

The older man glanced at the curly black head of his partner.

“You mean take them out like you did at the Ross apartment or the pool?” Sarcasm dripped from his speech like molasses from a spoon. “The boss don’t like mistakes, and you made plenty—like Gene. The boss wants it done this way.”

The younger man shivered. Gene’s face came to mind. He didn’t like it when he was compared to Gene. “I’m just sayin’ that we have enough. Why can’t we leave now? Like we originally planned.”

“You and I both know somebody’ll figure out he’s involved eventually—there’s too many copies of them pictures—thanks to Gene. If he gets caught, we get caught. Do you wanna go to prison? If we get money from International Enterprises, we can disappear where they can’t bring us back—another country, even. The boss already has plane tickets. This’ll work. You’ll see.”

“You better be right.” The younger man’s voice sizzled with meaning.

“Just shut up and keep your eyes on those lights. The boys are ahead of us and waiting.”

SIXTY-EIGHT

ALANA LISTENED TO THE TINY
whitecaps crashing on the tall pillars of the bridge underneath her as they crossed the bridge to Jaydn’s cabin. Shadows of the bridge fanned out across the water in the evening sun.

Sitting next to Jaydn, she was reminded of all he had done for her. He protected her with his life—several times. Her anger melted like plastic in flames. In his presence, she felt safe and secure, and the warmth of that security flowed through her veins.

Jaydn eased the car off the bridge and followed the gravel pathway around the house. Slowing the car to a crawl, he suddenly tensed and jerked the car to a stop.

Alana shifted toward him, his stillness feeding her fear. Rippled lines of worry or panic, she couldn’t tell which, creased above his brow. The way his eyes kept scanning the lake shoreline made her uneasy. His body language spoke volumes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t see any guards.” The statement was whispered yet sounded to her ears as if he shouted it from the mountaintops.

He jammed the car into reverse and threw gravel from the driveway into the yard as he slid the car around and back toward the bridge.

He picked up his cell phone from the console and threw it at her.

“Call 9-1-1, then Brad.”

When they rounded the corner of the house, Alana gasped when she saw what was in front of them.

A box truck blocked the entrance to the bridge, and two men stood at each corner. Each of them held long, nasty-looking guns, and they were pointed straight at the car.

Alana quickly punched in the emergency number before she realized there was no phone service.

“No service!” Panic laced her voice.

Jaydn jammed the car into reverse and took off in the opposite direction. Shots were fired in quick succession, and the back glass shattered. Alana screamed, and Jaydn pushed her head down low.

“Stay down!”

He twisted the car from side to side, trying to avoid the bullets popping all around them.

God please help us.
Alana prayed as she grasped the handle on the door and was jerked into the seat belt.

“We’ve got to get to the boat,” said Jaydn through gritted teeth. “It’s our only chance.” He spoke as he plowed the car between two crape myrtle bushes and slid to a stop two feet from the lake dock.

“Hurry, Alana! Get into the boat!”

Alana gasped when she saw Jaydn pull a pistol from under his seat and point it toward the men rounding the corner of the house. She heard two loud pops, and the men following them scrambled for cover.

Jaydn pushed Alana toward the boat. “Untie the ropes and get in!” He took cover behind the car and aimed several more shots toward the men hiding behind the oak trees in the yard—his shots protecting her as she ran.