Always Watching (23 page)

“What?” Her eyes went wide and her face paled. He saw her swallow hard. “I almost ate one,” she whispered. “But then I didn't want to feel guilty if you'd put them there to give to someone. You're always letting someone use the boat, so that's why I asked.”

“And I'm so glad you did.”

Her lower lip trembled. “Would I have died?”

“No, no way. You would have probably gotten really, really sick and been in the hospital for a while, but no, you would have eventually been fine.” He asked forgiveness for the probable lie, but he wasn't going to tell her the truth and bring on nightmares. He just wasn't. One day he might share the truth, but not now. “So that's why we have to go. This person has access to us and I don't know what else to do but go away until she's caught.”

“What if she's never caught?”

He nodded. “That's a good question. I don't have an answer right now. I just know we have to go.”

Amy hung her head and scuffed her foot against the dark hardwood. “It's not fair.”

“No, it definitely isn't fair.”

Amy crossed her arms and stuck out her lip. “I want to go on record as not liking this.”

“Duly noted,” Wade said.

The watcher pulled the headphones off. So Wade was planning to leave. Amy almost eating those chocolates had scared him enough to run. It had been a risky move, planting the candy. They hadn't been for Amy, but it could have worked as a positive in the plan should she have eaten them. Amy's death would have left Wade more vulnerable, more open to staging his death as a suicide. It was believable. Already heartbroken
over the death of his fiancée, the death of his daughter would send him over the edge. The watcher smiled. The listening device planted in the den had come in handy on more than one occasion. Now to implement the last part of the plan and collect the payoff.

“He's leaving,” the voice said.

“Leaving? What do you mean?” she asked.

“They're taking him away in less than an hour.”

“Where?” She panicked. “They can't leave! How will I see him? He'll never know everything I've done for him!”

“I have a way for you to stop him, so listen up.”

In the bathroom, Amy grabbed what she considered essentials for a trip overnight. Her emotions were all over the place. Anger at the canceled party. Okay, maybe not canceled, but most likely postponed. Worry that someone really might hurt her dad—even kill him—and she'd be alone. She'd wanted to talk about it with her father and had even tried to get him to come upstairs with her to help her, but he'd been on the phone and gestured for Katie to go with her.

Katie had complied without a word. And while Amy liked Katie, she wished her father had come so she could ask specific questions about the kind of clothing she needed to pack. For instance, did she need a swimsuit?

Her phone buzzed and she smiled when she saw it was from Stacy.

Stacy

Hey, can you get past your watchdogs and meet me outside in the trees at our spot? I got your text that you were leaving and I want to say bye.

Amy dropped her toothbrush into the overnight bag, then snatched her phone up.

Amy

I don't know. Maybe. I'll try. Can you stay there for about ten minutes?

Stacy

Yes. Better hurry tho. My mom doesn't want me over here until u catch the wacko.

Okay, hang on. I'm coming.

Where r u going? Do u know?

No, but Olivia and my dad arranged everything. This stalker person has everyone crazy so we're going on a little vacay until they catch her.

What bout ur party?

Rescheduling it.

Ugh.

Tell me bout it. Now stop texting so I can get out of here.

K. C u in a minute.

The fact that the wacko—as Stacy called her—had left poisoned chocolates on the boat scared her. The fact that she almost ate one terrified her. She didn't know what to think or who to
trust. Other than Stacy, of course. And her dad, Olivia, and Katie. And Aunt Martha and Joanna, of course. But that was about it. Amy grabbed her small makeup bag and added that to the pile. Now what?

A knock on the door grabbed her attention. “Amy?” Katie asked. “Are you about ready?”

“I just need a few more minutes, okay?”

“Sure. But we need to get going, so don't take too much longer if you can help it.”

“Okay.” She rolled her eyes. She knew that her dad's stalker was a dangerous person. She'd learned that fact in the bathroom at the church. Not to mention the poisoned chocolate. She needed to say goodbye to Stacy, though. Who knew how long she would be gone? But she probably needed to clear it with someone. She opened the door. “I want to tell my friend Stacy goodbye. Will you go with me?”

Katie looked concerned. And understanding. “I don't think we have the time, but I can check on it for you.”

“Thanks. I'm almost ready.”

She could hear Katie talking through the door. The woman must have been standing just on the other side. “All right,” she heard her say. “She's not going to like it, but all right.”

Amy sighed and kicked her overnight bag. She couldn't even tell her best friend goodbye. Anger rose in her. Anger at her father's stalker. Anger at her father for wanting to leave. Just . . . anger at the unfairness of it all. Well, stalker or no stalker, she was going to tell Stacy goodbye. She slipped the overnight bag over her shoulder and opened the door that led into the guest bedroom.

“Amy? You coming?”

“I've got to find a couple more things and then . . . um . . . use the bathroom,” she called. Then walked to the door of the
guest room and looked out into the hall. Empty. She moved to the back staircase and hurried down it. At the bottom, the door led out onto the back porch and the patio with the outdoor kitchen.

Her phone buzzed. She pulled it from the back pocket of her jeans. Stacy again.

Stacy

U coming?

Amy

Working on it. Chill.

K.

Amy slipped up to the brick oven and glanced around it. Security personnel patrolled the grounds, but thanks to the trees and other shrubbery along the edge of the property, she could probably stay hidden well enough to meet Stacy. The problem was getting from the porch to the nearest tree. She waited until the closest security member had his back turned, then darted across the lawn.

Heart pounding, she glanced back. No one shouted, no one said a word, no alarms had been sounded. She'd done it. Now the easy part. She ran as fast as she could behind the tree line to the copse of trees between her property and the neighbor's. She slipped into the clearing and dropped her bag on the ground. Why had she brought it anyway?

“Stacy? Are you here?”

No answer.

“Stacy, come on. Don't play games, I don't have a lot of time.”

A bush to her left rustled and she turned toward it. But Stacy didn't come out from behind it. Amy stamped her foot even as a niggling of doubt raised its head. She probably shouldn't
have snuck out. She'd never done anything like that before, but she'd never been in this kind of situation before either. Her heart picked up speed and her breath started to strangle in her throat.

“No,” she whispered. “Not now.”

Where was Stacy? Her uneasiness grew and she moved backward, eyes still on the bushes. Stacy wouldn't play games like this. Amy pulled her phone out and texted Stacy.

Amy

Where r u? I have to go!

Stacy

Behind you.

Amy turned, expecting to see Stacy. Instead her eyes widened when they landed on the woman who stepped out from behind the tree. Amy walked toward her. “What are you doing here? Did you follow me? I just wanted to say goodbye to Stacy.”

Instead of speaking, the woman simply lifted her hand. In it she held a small canister. “Don't worry, Amy, I'll make sure you don't suffer.” Her finger pushed the top and a spray of something caught Amy full in the face. She gasped, choked. Dizziness hit her. Her legs gave out and she dropped to the ground. Her phone tumbled from her fingers. Vaguely, she felt someone lift her, hands under her knees and shoulders. Strong hands. Not the woman's.

But she couldn't get her eyes open long enough to focus. Then she felt herself being slid into the back of a large vehicle. She tried to rise, but was just too tired. Even the fear that started pounding through her couldn't keep her awake any longer.

Wade finally hung up the phone. It was past the allotted hour, but he now had everything arranged. Cameron was more
understanding than Wade had expected, given the man's drive and passion for the charity. He thought the idea of using someone impacted by the charity a great idea and promised to line it up. “Even though it is incredibly short notice,” he'd muttered.

“I need you to do this, Cameron. Amy could have been killed. I can't trust that this person won't get to her again.”

“I know. I know.” A heavy sigh filtered through the line. “Of course you have to protect Amy. And yourself. Fine. Don't worry about a thing. Stay safe and be in touch when you can.”

Olivia appeared in the doorway of the den. “You ready?”

“Yes. Just one more phone call.”

“I'll get Amy and Katie. Charlie and Lizzie are in the cars. Charlie will be driving the one in front. Lizzie's in the one behind.”

“All right.”

Olivia's phone rang. She paused and answered it. “Hi, Quinn.” Her brows went up and she shot him a look. “Uh-huh. Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

“What is it?” Wade asked when she hung up.

“Francisco finished Justine's autopsy.”

“And?”

“And he agrees, it wasn't suicide. She was murdered. Something about the angle of the bullet entrance not being consistent with a self-inflicted wound.”

Wade stumbled to the nearest chair and sank onto it. “I almost don't believe it.”

She crossed the room and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I'm so sorry, Wade.”

“No, I'm sorry. Sorry I didn't push for an investigation when I first learned of her death. Sorry I let her down and let myself believe she could do something like that.” He shook his head.

“Can I do anything for you?”

“No. I'm shocked and not surprised all at the same time, you know? Why didn't the first medical examiner who did the original autopsy catch that?”

“Who knows? Maybe he wasn't being careful. Maybe he just did a cursory examination. I'll make a report of it to make sure he knows he made a serious mistake, but for now, let's focus on what we need to do.”

He cleared his throat. “Right. I'll just make my last phone call and be right out. We can talk in the car.”

“Sure.”

Olivia turned and Wade stood. As she stepped out of the den, he walked to the mantel and stared at the picture of him and Justine, taken just a few days before she'd died.

Been murdered.

He felt his phone buzz and looked at it. A text message from Anonymous.

I have Amy. Walk out of the door and down to the boathouse. I'm watching you. If you speak to anyone, Amy dies.

Wade went still. He stared at the text, unbelieving. Was this a joke?

Who are you?

Another buzz brought a picture of his sweet girl tied to a chair, her tear-streaked cheeks flushed, eyes drooping, sleepy looking, but on the person who'd taken the picture. Wade's heart stopped for a full five beats. His legs immediately went weak. He stumbled to the chair again. But no. He couldn't sit. Couldn't waste time. Couldn't throw up.

He walked back to the mantel and gripped it, leaned his
forehead against the edge, and took a deep breath. When he looked up, resolution ran deep and fast.

Help was mere steps away. Could he get a message to one of them? Olivia was outside on the porch talking to one of her employees. He looked around for a pen and paper, but saw nothing.

Anonymous

What are you waiting for?

He looked at Amy's picture on the text again and paused. He knew that place. He knew where she was being held. But how to pass on the message? He looked back up to the family pictures on the mantel, picked up one, then the next and the next. Amy was in most of them. He and his parents in another when he was just an infant. He closed his eyes and fought the urge to scream, to rail against the unknown person doing this to him and his family. And knew he'd do whatever it took to rescue his child. But he had to find a way to leave a message. An idea formed.

His phone buzzed again.

Anonymous

You haven't left the house. I'm watching. Go out the back door to the boathouse. Now. Your security is tight. Don't get caught or Amy dies.

Wade

How?

Figure it out. Now go.

He had no choice.

His phone buzzed again. He looked at it. This time it signaled a call from Olivia. A text appeared at the top of the screen.

Anonymous

Don't answer it. Put the phone in your pocket and keep going.

His fingers flew over the keys.

Wade

If I don't answer, she's going to come looking for me.

Anonymous

Fine. Make it good. I can hear everything you say. Amy wants her father to come rescue her.

After only a fraction of a second of hesitation, he pressed the button to answer the call. Could the person really hear? With technology these days, he couldn't afford to take any chances. “I'm coming.”

“Where are you?”

“Just had a few more things I needed to put together. A few instructions about Thursday night, but I'm finished now. Just stopped in the den to . . . reminisce a little.”

“We don't have time for reminiscing. I'm coming to get you to escort you to the car.” He heard murmuring in the background. “Wade, Katie can't find Amy. Is she with you?”