Tempting Evil (15 page)

Read Tempting Evil Online

Authors: Allison Brennan

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense

BOOK: Tempting Evil
13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

THIRTY-THREE

Jane accepted the cup of hot coffee from Jo and took a sip.

They sat in the living room of the Jorgensen house. All the Feds except for Blackstone and Mitch were outside looking for signs that Doherty would return, though Tyler didn’t think it was likely as he listened to Jane’s story.

She turned to her husband who was reclining next to her, a bandage covering his head. Some blood had seeped through the back where, according to Jane, he’d been hit with the butt of Doherty’s gun.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked for the fifth time.

He nodded. He was only semiconscious, with a serious concussion. Sam and Peter Nash had arrived back at the lodge and were coming out to the Jorgensen ranch to tend to Bob and destroy the sheep carcasses.

“Tell us what happened,” Tyler said.

Tyler was furious that Doherty had eluded them. That another innocent person had almost been killed.

Jane took a deep breath. “Bob and I didn’t hear anything last night. We didn’t hear the poor sheep…”

Jo took her hand and squeezed. “The barn is north of the house, and the wind was blowing from the south. You couldn’t have heard them. And if you did—he may have killed you, too.”

Jane nodded. “I went out early to feed the sheep and there was a naked man in the barn. A naked man and a lot of blood. The sheep…” She swallowed, looked down, then continued. “He was as surprised to see me, I think, as I was to see him. He had a gun. All I could think of was that he was going to kill me.” Her voice hitched.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Bob spoke up, his voice full of anguish.

Jane quickly said, “No, don’t, Bob. He didn’t hurt me. But he grabbed me, made me walk back to the house. Bob came out of the kitchen and the man hit him on the head before I could warn him.”

She took a deep breath, seemed to be thinking, and Tyler prompted, “What next?”

“He said he needed clothes. I took him to our room. He told me to sit on the chair and not move or he would shoot me. I believed him. I sat there, watched him get dressed. He didn’t really look at me, though when I started fidgeting he turned the gun on me and said ‘No Moving.’”

“And then?”

“He told me that he needed to find a way out of the valley. He had a couple ideas, but he needed my help. I remembered Nash calling us a couple days ago about the escaped convicts, and that was the first time I thought that this man was one of them. He brought me back downstairs. Bob was lying there, right in the entry between the kitchen and the living room, and the man didn’t even look at him. I didn’t know if you were dead, Bob, I was so scared…”

Bob wrapped his arms around her and held her. “I’m okay. Thank God you’re alive. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d hurt you.”

Tyler understood this was sensitive and Jane had been through a trauma, but they were rapidly losing daylight. It was already four in the afternoon and the sun was quickly setting. In another hour they wouldn’t have the helicopter to search with.

“Where did you take Doherty?” Tyler asked.

“The north side of Lima. He told me that he wouldn’t hurt me if I didn’t try to trick him. He needed to find a place where he could steal a car and not use the North or South Centennial Road. I knew exactly where—the old logging road that went over the north mountain. It exits out at that 24/7 convenience store over—”

“I know where it is,” Tyler said. “And then?”

“He told me to turn around and go home to my husband and not look back. I did.”

“What time did you leave?”

“Eight. I didn’t go fast—and he didn’t seem to mind. I refueled and left him at one. I came back much faster.”

“Did he say anything? Like where he was going? His plans?”

“He didn’t say anything. I asked him his name, and he didn’t even tell me that.”

“Did you see what car he stole?”

“He was looking at two. A black Ford 250 with four-wheel drive and an older Chevy, dark green, that I think also had four-wheel drive. I don’t know Chevys well; my dad always had Fords.”

Tyler wrote down the information, then handed the paper to Grossman. “Find out any stolen vehicles at the store, get the owner’s name and license, put an APB out immediately.”

“Got it.” Grossman stepped out of the living room.

“Anything else you remember?”

She shook her head.

“I just wanted to come back home, see Bob, make sure he was okay.”

“I know,” Jo said.

Tyler said, “I’ll leave Billy and Al here until tomorrow morning, just to make sure that you’re safe. Nash should be here soon.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.”

They left the house and Tyler slammed his fist on the porch. “I can’t believe he got away.”

“Someone will spot him,” Jo said.

Mitch nodded. “Every cop in a hundred-mile radius will be looking for him. He’ll be in custody within twenty-four hours.”

Mitch was wrong.

         

Aaron had learned a lot from Doug Chapman. He’d learned to hot-wire a car. He’d learned to swap out stolen cars rapidly, to give the police less chance of tracking them. And he’d figured out how to not be seen on security cameras.

He found his way back to Pocatello and considered just going on. In one of the trucks he’d stolen, he’d found a wallet with eightysome bucks and he paid cash for a cheap-ass motel.

Los Angeles. Ten million people in the county. He’d lived there for more than a decade, he could disappear, start a new life, be free.

Except he didn’t have the heart to do it.

He stared at his gun. Bridget had loved him, then didn’t. Rebecca had loved him, then didn’t. Joanna had loved him, then didn’t. He’d lost them all.

You haven’t lost Joanna. She’s still alive.

He bristled, tightened his grip around the revolver. He wasn’t a bad person. Joanna had loved him once. She could love him again.

Love, Tyler.

Had Joanna betrayed him in a far worse way? Had she broken his heart so that she could be with another man? With the Sheriff?

Quiet rage spread through his chest.

They need to have a heart-to-heart.

He flashed back to when he left the lodge with Joanna and her traitorous sister. Joanna and the Sheriff had exchanged glances. They’d looked at each other
that way.

Aaron would not be used again. He was not garbage. He was important, he was special.

“You’re my special little boy. Be good for my friends and I’ll be back soon.”

He’d always been good. Always. At least he tried. He wasn’t pathetic, he wasn’t worthless, he was special.

Joanna would know it before he killed her.

THIRTY-FOUR

Four days later

Joanna Margaret Weber, Jo’s namesake, was buried in a family plot outside Lakeview. A new headstone nearby read:

B
EATRIX
“T
RIXIE
” M
AY
W
EBER

June 1, 1975–February 7, 2008

Beloved mother, sister,

daughter, granddaughter, and friend.

“There are three things that will endure

—faith, hope, and love—

and the greatest of these is love.”

1 C
ORINTHIANS
13:13

Trixie couldn’t be buried until spring. Her body was being kept at the hospital morgue. The ground was frozen. But Jo didn’t want to postpone the funeral for two or three months. Her family, especially Leah, needed closure.

The Webers had been long-time residents of the Centennial Valley. This winter would mark their last in Montana.

Her grandfather was closing the lodge. Karl and Stan planned on traveling. “I’m not coming back,” he told Jo at Trixie’s grave site. “But when I die, I’d like to be buried here.”

Jo nodded, looked at the mourners who had come for the quiet outdoor ceremony. Almost everyone who lived year-round in the valley was here, plus Wyatt and a few of their friends who lived in Dillon, Ennis, and other nearby towns. Her parents were on a mission in Africa and unreachable. Jo rarely thought of them anymore—they’d been on missions more than half her life. It angered her that they weren’t here for their daughter’s funeral, but it didn’t surprise her. They hadn’t returned home to pay respects to Ken and Timmy.

Tyler came and kissed her on the forehead, but he didn’t look at her. He was both worried and angry that they hadn’t been able to capture Aaron Doherty.

The FBI had searched by helicopter for two full days, but there was no sign of Doherty. Local police had found cars they suspected he may have stolen, but no sign of him. All local motels had his picture, and the police were widening their search. Two callers in Idaho Falls had reported seeing him, and there was a stolen truck from the area that police were looking for. One caller said he’d seen the truck driving south on I-15 outside Idaho Falls. Away from the valley.

Jo didn’t feel one hundred percent safe, but she thought Doherty had left for good. Nothing held him here to the valley—no friends, no family, nothing but violence. Jane Jorgensen had said he seemed depressed and melancholy. Hans Vigo suggested he was suicidal. Mitch Bianchi told Jo and Tyler to keep careful watch—he didn’t think Doherty was going to disappear forever.

“He’s licking his wounds,” Mitch had said, “but I think he’ll be back.”

When Doherty had been spotted out of state, Mitch and Hans had to return to their respective posts. “Duty calls,” Hans had said.

There were two federal agents still at the lodge, and Tyler had a half-dozen deputies on duty at Trixie’s funeral.

Aaron Doherty wasn’t going to come today. And tomorrow? Tomorrow Jo and Leah were moving in with Tyler and Jason. Tyler hadn’t been home since he’d come to the valley a week ago. And until Doherty was caught, he didn’t want Jo and Leah out of his sight.

Tyler came up behind her, kissed the top of her head, and caressed the small of her back. She glanced over her shoulder at him. The worry on his face was countered by the love in his eyes.

“Why don’t you believe that he’s gone?” she asked him.

He didn’t say anything for a minute. “It’s more the not knowing that is eating me up. How long is he going to be able to hide? He doesn’t have a lot of money, and every time he steals a car the police get that much closer to finding him. I keep thinking I’ll get the call any minute, but it doesn’t come. And that worries me.”

Tyler turned her to face him. “I don’t want you to worry, Jo. Not now. Take care of your family.”

“You are part of my family.”

He ran the tips of his fingers over her cheek. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore. I’ll do anything to protect you.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you.” She tilted her head up and kissed him. “I love you.”

He rubbed her back. “It was a nice service. As nice as funerals can be. Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah.”

“And Leah?”

They both looked over to where Jason and Leah were talking, sitting on a fallen tree. Jason had brushed off the snow for Leah. A gentleman, just like his dad.

Your children.

Last week she’d been childless, grieving for her son. Today, she was responsible for raising two kids.

Tyler took her hand, squeezed. “We’re going to be good, Jo. Not just okay, but really good.”

“Of course we are.”

“I’m going to check with my team,” Tyler said. “Are you ready to go back to the lodge?”

“When you are.”

“Ten minutes.” He kissed her again and walked down the slope.

Jo stood next to Trixie’s grave.
Beloved mother, sister…

“I love you, Trixie.”

Jo glanced over at the kids sitting to the side. Leah saw her, waved. Jo waved back. She walked up the slope twenty feet. Four years ago she had buried two other people on this same hill.

K
ENNETH
R
ICHARD
S
UTTON

September 20, 1968—February 4, 2004

Husband. Father. Friend.

We miss you.

Jo brushed her fingers against the headstone. “Hello, sweetheart.”

She turned to Timmy’s headstone. She knelt down in the slush. Touched the earth. “Timmy, you’re forever in my heart.”

She kissed her fingers and placed them on the ground.

Aaron had been compelled to return to the Centennial Valley.

He’d thought he’d won the internal battle. Escape or suicide, he was weighing his options. Escape was hard—always watching over his shoulder, stealing to eat. He couldn’t sleep right, he didn’t have enough food. He couldn’t walk into a restaurant and order a steak; he was dirty and could barely stand the smell of himself.

Suicide had been looking really good. Something flashy. Something that would get Joanna’s attention. Like taking people in a bookstore hostage, calling the media, and demanding to talk on the air before turning himself in. He’d never turn himself in, but he’d make sure Joanna Sutton knew it was all her fault when everyone died.

But he only had the one gun left, and two bullets. Not enough to take down anyplace with more than one or two people. How Doug had managed to find them a couple of guns their first day out of Quentin, Aaron would never know. That guy had a sixth sense about some things.

Aaron kind of missed him. He didn’t like being alone.

Getting back into the valley had proven more difficult than he’d thought. The main road was blockaded by the cops. Every car searched. The plows had cleared the road from Monida to Lakeview for Trixie’s funeral, but still the people from the east side of the valley came on snowmobiles.

The flaw in the protective net was the terrain itself—miles and miles long with many places to cross over into the valley where no one could see him. He’d come early enough that no one had been around; and he’d waited.

He watched from a distance, unable to make out the features of the people gathered below. A calmness wrapped around him. Calm now that he had a plan. It finished taking shape when he saw two figures—two kids—walking toward his hiding place.

Aaron planned to die today. He had two bullets. The first was for Joanna.

“Aunt Jo—” Leah rushed to her, breathless, eyes darting back and forth.

“What’s wrong?” Jo stood, looked around. The mourners were all near the tent where there was food and drink. She looked over to where Jason and Leah had been sitting on the log. “Where’s Jason?”

“We—we went for a little walk. I know we weren’t supposed to leave, but—and—Mr. Miller, I mean Doherty, has Jason!”

Jo’s stomach plummeted, her breath stopped. “We have to get Tyler.” She looked around, didn’t see him. She opened her mouth to call out when Leah said, “No, don’t. Jo, he said he’ll hurt Jason if you don’t come right now. He has a gun. He said I have to bring you back and not tell anyone. I don’t want Jason to die.”

“Where are they?”

“Behind the rocks.” She pointed. About fifty yards up the mountain from where Leah and Jason had been sitting was a plateau. Several huge boulders rested on it.

“Find Tyler now.”

“But—”

“Trust me, Leah. Do it.”

Leah ran down the hill and Jo went up.

She wasn’t going to lose another child.

Jo heard Aaron Doherty’s voice before she reached the plateau.

“Where’s Leah?”

“I’m not putting her in danger.”

“But you’ll put the boy in danger?”

She took three more steps and saw Jason. He was on his knees in the slushy snow, hands behind his head. Aaron Doherty stood behind him, a gun to the boy’s head.

Oh, God, no. Not again.

Jo swallowed fear so intense that her vision wavered.

“Don’t scream,” Doherty said. “If you do, I’ll kill him. Do you understand that? I will kill him.”

“I’m not going to scream. Let Jason go.”

“No. No! Where’s Leah?”

“I told you. I wouldn’t let her come. You don’t want to do this.”

“You know nothing about me, Joanna.”

Something the FBI Agent Hans Vigo said earlier came back to her. Doherty had to believe that he was in control. That she understood him, that she believed in him. She remembered that his mother had left him over and over again, with strangers and friends and relatives, and he never knew when she would return. He had waited so long.

Jo had no sympathy for the man who killed Trixie, but she understood what Agent Vigo had been saying. What had happened in Doherty’s past influenced the killer he was today. She needed to stall him, to give Tyler time to arrive. She needed to protect Jason at all costs.

He could have shot her when he killed Trixie, but he hadn’t.

“You love me, don’t you?” she said. She glanced at Jason, saw the fear on his face.
Don’t look at him. If you do, you’ll never be able to do this.

His eyes widened. “You know I do.”

She shook her head. “You never said so.”

“In every letter I wrote—”

“I told you I never got any of your letters.”

“You’ve lied to me from the beginning. Why should I believe you now?”

“I’m not lying. I never got your letters.” She stepped forward. She had to get between him and Jason.

He stomped his foot. “But she said she mailed them!”

“Annie?”

He stumbled back as if she’d slapped him. His hand fell to his side, gun still in hand. But it was no longer pointed at Jason’s head.

Jo took another step forward.

“She talked to the police. Told them everything. She had all your letters and she gave them to the FBI.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m so sorry she betrayed you, Aaron. Every woman you’ve loved has hurt you. Even your own mother—”

He stepped forward and aimed the gun at her. “Don’t talk about her.”

Had she misstepped? Where was Tyler? She didn’t dare look around for fear Doherty would realize that something was up.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Aaron. You’re not like Doug Chapman. You’re nothing like him.”

“He was a vile, pathetic, violent man.” Distaste crossed his face. “I’m glad I killed him.”

“You protected me from him. When you left me alone at the house, he—he touched me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was embarrassed.”

“You know I would do anything for you.” He shook his head back and forth. “But you lied to me. You told me you loved me, then you left me for the Sheriff. My enemy. You broke my heart, Joanna.”

She blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Delusional, Agent Vigo had called him. Did that mean he heard voices? Believe something that wasn’t true?

On the surface, he seems normal. He can function in society, hold down a job, have normal conversations. But he believes his fantasies, his delusions are real.

She swallowed uneasily and tried to remember the little boy he used to be, the little boy who waited night after night for his mother to come home.

The same mother he killed.

“Aaron, what do you want from me?”

“You really don’t know?”

She shook her head, trying not to look at the gun, or at Jason, but concentrating on the sounds around her. Had she heard a footstep in the slush behind her? She didn’t dare look.

“I wanted to share my life with you, Joanna. I came here to show you how much I loved you, how I was your hero, like in your books. Your stories showed me what I never had, and I wanted that all—with you. But no longer.”

“I’ll go with you. Right now. We’ll leave.”

“I don’t believe you. You had your chance, you somehow told that Sheriff where we were.”

“I didn’t—”

“It’s over. For both of us.”

“Let Jason go. Don’t make him watch this.”

“Come here, Joanna.”

She crossed the ground that separated them. She reached out and touched Jason on the shoulder. “Get up, Jason, and go.”

Other books

The Pecan Man by Selleck, Cassie Dandridge
What We Hide by Marthe Jocelyn
The Butterfly Storm by Frost, Kate
Black Forest, Denver Cereal Volume 5 by Claudia Hall Christian
Rome's Lost Son by Robert Fabbri
Dead Right by Brenda Novak