Take the Key and Lock Her Up (14 page)

“And why would he do that?”

“Because his boss told him to. You said whoever left that corpse with the jewelry
in the basement wanted it found. And that he wanted our family to know about it. What
better way to ensure that happened than to have a Buchanan discover the body?”

Sometimes Austin’s insight was almost scary. Then again, he was Matt’s twin, and Matt
was a brilliant investigator. If Austin shared this information with Matt, there’d
be no way to stop his family from trying to dig into Devlin’s life and figure out
who was after him. He couldn’t let that happen.

Austin was waiting for his answer. Right now, Devlin didn’t have any answers, not
even lies. He glanced through the sliding glass doors again. Alex was in the family
room now, his sons and daughters-in-law surrounding him. Pierce appeared to be the
spokesperson for the group as he apparently broke the news about Carolyn. Tessa and
Madison stood behind Alex, both with a hand on one of his shoulders, as if to offer
him strength. Devlin and Austin should be in there with them, offering their father
comfort. But Devlin didn’t think he had any comfort left to give.

“Ready for my entire theory?”

Dreading whatever his astute brother was about to say, Devlin braced himself and gave
Austin his full attention. “I’m not sure I could stop you if I tried. Go on. Get it
over with.”

Seemingly undeterred by Devlin’s abrupt response, Austin moved closer, his wheels
almost hitting Devlin’s knees.

“You’re the only one in this family who uses that road in front of the house where
those bodies were found to get here. And even though I tease you about being a tour
guide, I know you’re trained to keep your clients safe in any situation. You’re basically
a survivalist, a bodyguard. Someone who knows how to defend himself in a fight. And
when you and Hawley’s abductor fought in those woods, you were forced to kill him
to save your own life.”

Devlin winced at that incorrect observation. Bodyguard? Sometimes, yes. But usually
Devlin was the one other men feared, the exact opposite of a bodyguard. He’d even
designed his own tools of the trade to make killing easier, more efficient. His signature
garrote was impossible for the victim to remove once the wire wrapped around their
neck. Somehow he didn’t think Austin would still think he was a
good
person if he knew about that.

He’d traded his soul for the chance to save countless innocent lives. He had no regrets.
But he had no illusions either. He’d learned a long time ago that the only way to
fight true evil and win was to become just as evil as his prey. And Devlin was one
of the best at what he did.

“Bottom line,” Austin said, “how hard would it be for someone who knows you to realize
you go to Dad’s every Friday around the same time when you’re in town? Ask yourself
if the most direct route from your house to Dad’s is down that little two-lane road
in front of the house where those victims were found. Ask yourself if someone you
know also knows that you listen to a police scanner all the time. Sure, it’s a hobby,
but don’t your friends—or, in this case, your enemies—know about your hobbies too?”

Devlin stared at Austin, stunned at the wisdom coming from someone so young and inexperienced.
Unlike his brothers, Austin didn’t have a career, or even a job, since he was in and
out of hospitals so much. And yet everything he was saying made perfect sense and
had Devlin thinking—hard—about the possible answers.

“Ask yourself if whoever knows all that about you also knows about the shortcut to
Dad’s house, that turnoff down that same road. The turnoff you take every Friday if
you’re in town. I mean, really, how hard would it be for someone to watch your pattern
a few times?”

If he were home, on leave between missions, he wouldn’t have been watching his back.
He wouldn’t have thought it necessary. “Not hard at all,” he admitted, seeing no point
in denying it. “I wouldn’t have had any reason to think someone was watching me. Maybe
you should work for Matt. You’re just as good at figuring out this stuff as he is.”

Austin grinned, clearly pleased with that comment. “I’m not done. Ask yourself if
you really believe the guy calling the shots would risk his assistant being seen with
Hawley unless he figured
you
would be the one to see him, and that you would try to stop him.”

Devlin frowned. “Why me? Why not Pierce, or one of the others?”

“Braedon’s too gentle. He couldn’t hurt anyone. Pierce is all about following the
rules. Matt’s too unpredictable. But you? You’re trained in self-defense. It’s all
part of your survival skills for your job. And you’re not in law enforcement, so you’re
not going to care about rules. You’d act on instinct.”

“You think the killer wanted me to kill his gofer,” Devlin said, his voice quiet.

“Exactly. You’re six foot three and solid muscle. There’s no chance that other guy
would survive a fight with you. None. Now add up everything I just said, along with
the fact that your former lover was the victim in that basement, the one wearing Carolyn’s
jewelry. In what universe is a coincidence like that even possible?”

“None.” Devlin couldn’t deny the facts when they were laid at his feet so succinctly.

Austin laid his hand on Devlin’s forearm. “Devil, I’ll go to my grave lying for you
if you need me to. But I’d rather help you out of whatever mess you’re in.”

Oh, hell no. He wasn’t about to involve his little brother in something that could
get him killed. He gently moved Austin’s hand back to the railing. “You can’t help
me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying you know who killed Shannon?”

“Of course not. I didn’t even know she was missing, much less that she was one of
the murder victims in that basement. I don’t have a clue who killed her.”
Not yet.

“Then why lie about knowing her?”

“What do you think would have happened tonight if I’d admitted I knew her?”

Austin shrugged. “O’Malley would probably have wanted you to go back to the police
station and answer more questions. There’s no harm in that. You’re innocent. And if
we can get the police looking at you, figuring out who wants to hurt you, that makes
more sense than sending them on a wild-goose chase looking into Alex’s past. It could
even help save the women who are still alive, the ones the killer abducted.”

Devlin let out a pent-up breath. He wanted to help those women too, but it wasn’t
that simple. There was much more at stake than Austin realized. If the killer were
someone who knew Devlin and was trying to draw him out—which was seeming more and
more likely—then he would use those women as bait. If the police got too close, there’d
be no reason to keep the women alive. The killer would cut bait and run. And when
the timing was right, he’d just abduct more victims to try to draw Devlin out again.
But that wasn’t something he could explain without revealing his true occupation.

“This is the same police department that almost put our sister-in-law in prison for
murder when
she
was a victim,” Devlin said. “You do remember what happened to Madison, right? The
Simon Says Die case?”

Austin seemed to consider that for a moment. “Good point. But what choice do you have?
Someone who knew Shannon is bound to know you two dated.”

“It was a year ago, and I never met any of her friends. We haven’t spoken since.”

“You don’t think she told anyone about you? Girls talk. This is going to come out.
Things like this always do.”

Yes, they did. But Austin was worried about the wrong things. He was worried about
the police. The police were the last people Devlin was concerned about. This was way
bigger than Detective O’Malley and any heat she could rain down on him. Far bigger,
and far more deadly.

And that was exactly why Devlin needed to get as far from his family as he could.
Someone was after him, playing a game. Until he knew who it was and why, he couldn’t
risk bringing any danger to the people he loved.

Lines of worry wrinkled Austin’s forehead.

“Everything will be okay,” Devlin reassured him. “I just need a couple of days on
my own to find out what’s going on.”

“What do you mean? You’re going to investigate a murder, the abductions? By yourself?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Why not get Matt to help, or Pierce? Or me, since you said I’m good at this stuff.
Let me help.”

“No way. I’m not involving my family in this.” He winced. “Other than the lie I already
involved you in. That’s it. It ends there.”

“That’s just stupid. You might be just as much of a computer genius as Matt, but he’s
better at solving puzzles than you, and has experience investigating crimes. He’s
also got a ton of resources you don’t have in that lab of his. And Pierce isn’t exactly
a hack as an FBI agent. For that matter, neither is Tessa. Whatever’s going on, they
can figure it out.”

Devlin didn’t doubt that Austin was right. But if his family knew Devlin was the one
being targeted, they’d start digging into his background. The average person, even
the average cop, wasn’t likely to get past his tour guide front—unless they had powerful
incentive and a reason to believe it was all an illusion. But Pierce and genius-level
Matt? If they ever felt the need to investigate him, they’d eventually figure everything
out. They’d realize what he really did for a living, and that would lead them to EXIT.

He couldn’t allow that. He couldn’t risk his family hurting the company, or his company
hurting
them
if his brothers became a threat to EXIT Inc.’s mission. He had a duty to protect
both his employer and the people he loved.

He’d chosen his path after Arianna’s brutal murder. He’d known what he was about to
do, what he was about to become, and he’d made his peace with it. The rewards were
worth whatever price he had to pay. And if it came down to it, he’d pay for his sins
with his life. But he would never allow one hair on the head of his brothers, their
families, or his father to be sacrificed along the way.

Austin was staring at him, waiting.

“You’re right,” Devlin said. “I’m sure they could help. I’m sure
you
could help. And I’ll ask all of you for help if I can’t figure this out on my own,”
he lied. “But I want to try it my way first. All I need is a few days without the
cops looking at me, some time to check into a few things to find out what’s going
on.”

His gaze touched on the profiles of each of his family members inside the house as
he wondered when he’d be able to see them again. He forced himself to turn away and
jogged down the steps to the yard.

Austin wheeled to the edge of the ramp on the left side of the deck. “You’re leaving?
Just like that? What am I supposed to tell the others? What about Alex?”

He hesitated. “Tell them . . . tell them I got called back to work, an emergency.”

“An emergency
tour
? Yeah, right. Some wealthy couple suddenly decided they needed someone to take them
down the Amazon River. And they insisted that
you
had to be their guide so you could fend off the local drug cartel.”

Austin’s fake scenario wasn’t as far off as he thought. Devlin had been to South America
on more than one “tour” that just happened to coincide with the deaths of some very
serious drug lords. But since Austin seemed to be waiting for an answer, Devlin shrugged.
He was all out of answers.

His brother stared at him, as if he could see the truth if he tried hard enough. “A
few days, huh? You really think you can resolve this that quickly? And that everything
will be okay?”

Devlin was about to tell him yes, but he couldn’t stomach another lie. He turned and
let the darkness swallow him up.

Chapter Nine

J
UST A FEW
more lights and a handful of blocks to go and Emily could pull into her garage and
settle in for the evening. She thumped her hands on the steering wheel, waiting for
the traffic light to turn. It was almost ten o’clock. She’d been working solid since
dawn and should have been more than ready to call it a day. But there were so many
questions swirling through her mind she could hardly sit still.

Who had killed Shannon Fisher? And why? Had Carolyn Buchanan really been the victim
of a single-car accident, or had someone orchestrated her death? There was no evidence
to suggest otherwise, but Emily was questioning everything, accepting nothing at face
value—especially if it related to the Buchanans.

Where were the missing women that Mrs. Hawley said were still being held prisoner?
Were they in a remote cabin? A house? All Hawley remembered were trees, lots of trees,
and driving down endless two-lane roads. Part of the time she’d been blindfolded,
so her recollection of directions was unreliable.

She’d heard the other women’s voices, but she’d seen only one of them face-to-face—the
woman she’d described to the sketch artist. Had the killer
wanted
her to see that particular woman but not the others? Was it possible he’d intended
for Hawley to escape so she could tell the police about the woman she’d seen? Was
that why the killer always obscured his face when he was with Hawley? The idea that
he’d wanted her to escape didn’t make sense, but it was within the realm of possibilities,
so Emily stored the question with the others to take out later and consider. She might
not have many answers, but there was one common denominator when she looked at what
few answers she had.

Devlin Buchanan.

Everyone else seemed to accept that he was no longer a person of interest. But Emily
couldn’t put him out of her mind no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately, part
of the reason was the damn chemistry that zinged between them every time they were
within ten feet of each other. She hated it, hated the way her respiration sped up,
her pulse quickened, even how her breasts tingled the few times he’d touched her.