Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls) (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ellie finished loading the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher and drank a third cup of coffee. Walking the baby half the night had fuzzed her brain. Not that she could have slept anyway. Last night’s conversation—and kissing—with Grant had boosted her adrenaline for hours. The near-giddy excitement his simple kiss stirred in her belly was more appropriate for a teenager. Actually, she couldn’t remember ever reacting to a man in this way. She could easily imagine sharing years of memories with him, and frankly, she felt a little cheated that those years weren’t a possibility.

Grant was in the office reviewing paperwork with Mac. Hannah was upstairs with the kids. Nan snored on the sofa. The pain pills made her tired.

Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She glanced at the display. The number was familiar. Not Hoodie Man. She answered the call. “Hello.”

“What are you up to?”

Now she recognized the number. “Frank?”

“Yes. What the fuck is going on, Ellie?” Why was Frank Menendez calling her cell from his?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you copied my hard drive.” Frank’s voice dropped. “And I saw you searching desks.”

Damn it. Frank’s computer skills were more advanced than she’d thought.

“And now you’re taking a day off? You never take days off.” Anxiety reverberated through Frank’s voice.

“My grandmother needs me,” she said.

He paused. “Why aren’t you in work today?”

“You know what, Frank? That isn’t any of your business.” Ellie wondered why he was so upset over her personal day. He barely let her do any work for him.

“Did you know there was money missing from the firm?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

Frank was quiet for a few seconds, no doubt digesting the fact that she knew more than he did. “You’d better not screw with me, Ellie.”

The line went dead.

What. The. Hell?

Seated at the desk in the office, Grant pointed to the screen of Mac’s laptop. “Is that him?”

Mac pulled the old chair closer and leaned over Grant’s arm. “That’s what the caption says.”

An online search had yielded a mug shot of Donnie Ehrlich attached to a short news article from the day of his arrest a few years ago. Detective McNamara hadn’t left a copy of the photo, so they’d conducted their own search. Donnie had been arrested multiple times, though he’d only been convicted once as an adult.

“He’s only a couple of years younger than you. Do you recognize him?”

“No,” Mac said. “But those prison tats make me glad I got out of the gang before I ended up in jail.” He shook his hair off his face in a dramatic movement. “I’m way too pretty for prison.”

“Your stint on the dark side is nothing to joke about.” Grant flicked a paper clip at him. “Neither was rehab.”

Mac caught it. His expression turned somber. “I owe my transformation to Lee. He never gave up on me. I bet he’s the one who put Mom up to making her final request that I straighten my ass out.”

“He knew you’d do it for her,” Grant said quietly. How typical of Lee to keep trying until he found a way to turn Mac around. That dogged determination had made him a good lawyer. Had it also contributed to his death?

“Yeah. I was a real asshole at the time, but not enough of an asshole to deny Mom her dying wish.”

Grant studied his brother. Mac had been fifteen when Grant went into the army. Lee had been in school and dealing with Dad’s declining health. When Mom got sick too, Mac had rebelled. Lee had been split in too many different directions. A man could only be in so many places at once. Maybe if Grant had been around, he could have kept Mac out of trouble.

Grant would be carrying a convoy of regrets back to Afghanistan.

“Any idea where we might find Donnie?”

Mac scratched his chin. “I can ask around. I know a guy who might be able to help.” He pressed Print. The printer on the credenza chugged, squealed, and spat out a copy of the photo.

“You aren’t going to visit someone from your old gang?”

“It’s our best shot.” Mac frowned.

“Isn’t it dangerous?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’ll be fine.”

“How do you still know this person is still in your old gang?” Grant couldn’t stop his voice from turning parental. “You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“I’ve run into him a couple of times over the years.” Indignation filled Mac’s tone. “You don’t think I’d go back to that life, do you?”

“I’d hope not.”

Mac laughed. “Grant, I camp with otters for a living. That’s quite a distance from working for a drug dealer.”

Grant winced. “I’m sorry. I should trust you.”

“We haven’t seen each other much in the years since you left.” Mac shrugged.

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, too.”

“You’ve been fighting a war. So I’ll give you a pass.” His brother snatched the picture from the printer output tray.

But guilt nagged Grant. He could’ve been around more. He didn’t have to take every assignment and move he’d been offered. He’d let his desire to advance in rank take precedence over his family’s needs. He’d left Lee to deal with their father’s dementia and Mac’s foray into crime, once a year swooping in for two weeks like some BFD. When in reality, Lee had been the big fucking deal, quietly getting unpleasant shit done on a daily basis. But it seemed Lee had also fallen prey to the Barrett family weakness: blind ambition.

Mac put a hand on his shoulder. “Really, Grant. It all turned out all right. If you hadn’t done the military thing, Dad would have pressured me or Lee into it. Let’s face it, neither one of us was army material. Lee was too sensitive, and I was too lazy. You did us a favor by living the old man’s dream so we didn’t have to.”

Mac had a point. Lee could never have shot a man in the face, not even to protect a fellow soldier. It wasn’t a fault, just a fact. Lee had believed in people’s inherent goodness. No man went to war and came back the same person. Grant would have nightmares for the rest of his life, but combat would have destroyed Lee.

Mac folded the picture in half. “Enough of this touchy-feely crap. I have to go. It’ll be easiest to find Freddie early in the day.”

“I’m going with you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Mac scanned Grant from head to toe. “You don’t blend it with that crowd. They’re an ugly bunch.”

“No worries. I’ve seen plenty of ugly.”

“Yeah. I guess you have.” Mac shrugged. “I know you’re used to giving the orders, but you’ll have to follow my lead this time out.”

“OK.” As if anyone in the family followed Grant’s orders anyway. He closed the Internet browser. His Beretta was as heavy on his hip as his current control issues weighed on his mind. Weapons and instability were a bad combination, but the cops hadn’t been able to find Donnie Ehrlich. Grant couldn’t go back to Afghanistan with his brother’s killer on the loose, still a threat to his family. Donnie needed to be stopped. Carson deserved to sleep without nightmares.

Mac tucked the folded picture into his pocket, then ran upstairs for his wallet. Grant ducked into the kitchen. The scent of fresh coffee teased his nostrils. Ellie sipped from a mug as she folded a load of baby laundry.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“I need to keep busy.” She folded the last tiny sock and set the basket aside. The sight of her brightened the darkness inside him. He wanted to scoop her up and take them both to bed. Pathetically, he actually wanted to
sleep
with her. For some reason, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head that his nightmares would be easier to take with her at his side. He had no doubt making love to Ellie would be amazing, but his attraction to her ran deeper than sex. It was a completely foreign feeling for him.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“No, but thanks.”

Nan snored on the couch. Hannah came down the stairs and went directly for the coffee pot. She set the baby monitor on the counter.

“Where are the kids?” Grant asked.

“They both fell asleep.” Hannah dumped milk into her coffee and downed half the mug. “I feel like I’ve been run over by the minivan.” She’d taken the third baby-walking shift. “Didn’t Carson get any sleep last night? He looks beat.”

“He crawled in with me about midnight.” Grant hadn’t minded. The boy had interrupted a nasty nightmare.

“So you didn’t get to sleep all night?” Sympathy creased Ellie’s face.

“It’s all right,” Grant said. “I’ve gone without sleep before.”

“But it isn’t ideal,” Ellie said.

“Mac and I are running to the store,” Grant lied. “Need anything?”

Hannah squinted at him in suspicion.

“Milk and bread.” Ellie refilled her mug. “And coffee.”

“Milk, bread, coffee. Got it.” Grant headed for the door. Hannah was right on his tail.

“Where are you really going?” she whispered.

“Just taking a drive.”

“Not buying it.” Hannah crossed her arms. “You’re going after Donnie.”

Grant didn’t answer.

“I should go with you,” she said. “I’m a better shot than Mac.”

“You’re a better shot than me too, which is why I want you here to protect them.” Grant nodded toward the back of the house, where the family was gathered. “One of us has to be with them all the time.”

Her mouth twisted into a frown. “I don’t like it.”

“I know.” He kissed her on the cheek. “And that’s why I love you.”

Her brow creased. Their family wasn’t big on emotional pronouncements or public—or private—displays of affection, but maybe being so tight-assed was a mistake. He wished he’d told Lee at least once that he loved him. Now it was too late.

He put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “I trust you to take care of them.”

Her head bobbed in a tight nod.

“We’ll be back soon.” Grant grabbed his jacket from the closet.

His sister’s eyes softened with the affection she couldn’t vocalize. “You’d better be.”

“We will.” When this was all over, the Barretts were going to start spending time together whenever possible.

Mac jogged down the stairs into the foyer. “Ready.”

“Let’s do this.” Grant opened the door. He scanned the street before leading the way to his rented sedan. The neighborhood looked quiet.

Mac jerked a thumb toward his SUV. “Would you rather take my truck?”

“No. I don’t want anyone to recognize it or us unless it’s necessary.” Grant slid behind the wheel. “Besides, I paid for the damned rental insurance.”

“All right then.” Mac got into the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?”

“Let’s try the rail yard first. That’s where Freddie’s been hanging lately.” Mac checked the clip on his 9mm and returned the weapon to his shoulder holster.

They were both quiet while Grant drove across town. He stopped in front of a closed gate marked with
Private Property
,
No Admittance
, and other threatening signs. No one paid any attention. The abandoned rail yard had been hosting illegal activities for decades: underage keggers, teenage sex, drug deals, and more. They got out of the car.

Mac pulled a set of wire cutters out of his pocket. “In case I can’t find the entrance, we can make our own.”

Grant eyed the six-foot chain link barrier topped with three rows of twisted wire. “Make sure the fence isn’t hot.”

His brother rolled his eyes. “Like this is my first break-in.”

“I’m not going to respond to that.”

“The electricity on this fence hasn’t been live in years.” Mac led the way down the fence line. Behind a patch of scraggly bushes, he found a crudely snipped hole in the wire. He tossed the cutters at the fence. No flash or sizzle. The power was off. “See?”

They slipped through, the knee-high weeds brushing the legs of Grant’s jeans. Soggy spots squished underfoot, and mud sucked at their boots. They walked between the tracks, rows of cast-aside freight cars forming a tunnel. His skin itched. He could feel eyes on them. Grant crouched to look under the cars. Their blind flank spooked him. Ahead, a thin plume of smoke curled into the overcast sky. They moved past the serviceable cars into the realm of the abandoned. Weeds grew waist-high through the corroded, unused tracks.

“Wait a minute.” Grant climbed a ladder on the back of one of the cars. From the roof, he scanned the back of the rail yard. He didn’t see anyone, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. He returned to the ground. “You sure we should just walk in like this? I’d feel better if we had Hannah and a sniper rifle covering us.”

“It’ll be OK.” Mac kept walking. “This is Freddie’s realm. He owes me. I guarantee someone’s been watching us since we went through the fence. If Freddie wanted to kill us, we’d already be dead.”

“That is not a comforting thought.” Adrenaline warmed Grant’s body, and nerves jittered up his spine. What if they were ambushed? What if this Freddie guy Mac claimed owed him one decided to cancel his debt with a bullet? Sweat soaked Grant’s back. He unzipped his jacket to let the heat out, and to give him better access to his weapon.

Mac stopped, slapping his arm. “You should have left the gun in the car.”

“No way.” Grant followed his brother over a set of tracks. “This isn’t the first time I’ve met with people of questionable loyalty. I’ll be fine.” Meetings with Afghan tribal leaders had been dicey. Allegiances were hard to predict and could shift as quickly as a dust storm. But Grant wasn’t feeling like his usual disciplined self.