When a Secret Kills (15 page)

“I’m having trouble getting close to her. She’s got protection all over her. You’d think the woman was someone important.”

Silence echoed back at him. Then his partner said, “I saw something interesting this afternoon. Something that might be her weak link.”

“What’s that?”

“I was trying to get close but was maintaining a distance while they were at Gerald’s house.”

“Gerald’s house?” Frank felt a coronary coming on.

“Don’t worry, she can’t tell them anything.” As Frank was about to protest, the man went on, “Anyway, someone else was tailing her. Her watchdogs clamped down on him.”

“Someone else? Who?”

“I don’t know who he is, but Jillian was happy to see him, gave him a big old hug. Like she hadn’t seen him in a while.”

“We need to know who he is.”

“I’m working on it.”

“What else?”

“I’m guessing if they talked to Mrs. Benjamin, Conrad Pike and his wife are somewhere on their list to talk to.”

Frank scoffed, but it lacked confidence. “They don’t know anything.”

“I’ll keep you posted.”

Frank hung up and tucked the phone back into his pocket with a frown. Too many people were too close to Jillian. He couldn’t kill them all.

His eyes landed on the newspaper he’d just read this morning and an idea started to take shape.

He opened his fist and laid the crumpled note on his desk. Using two hands that weren’t quite steady, he smoothed the bumps and ridges until he could read, “THE CLOCK IS TICKING. SOON THEY WILL KNOW WHAT I KNOW.”

Yes, it was always good to have a Plan B.

“Nicholas Tremaine,” Jillian repeated. “Who’s that?”

“Dominic’s digging into it while he’s at the hospital with his father. What we now know is the man was former Navy. He wasn’t in the AFIS fingerprint system. Dominic had the idea to check the military database and found him. We’re looking into his unit and will see if any connections turn up,” Colton said. “Except for one incident, the man had a stellar record, but was something of a rogue. His last psych eval showed some red flags, and when told he would have to go through mandatory counseling, he finished his term and opted to get out. Honorably, but with that kind of screwup . . .” He shook his head. “You don’t get over that.”

“What kind of red flags?”

“A mission that went south. He was a sniper. He hit the wrong target.”

“What?” Blake snorted. “That’s Navy for you.”

Colton lifted a brow. “Hunter said you’re Army.”

“Yep.”

“Special Forces.”

“Yep.”

Even if Hunter hadn’t passed on the information, Colton would have guessed it. Blake had a tenseness, a special watchfulness and
constant awareness of what was going on around him that shouted military. He looked at Jillian. Kind of like her. Only she wasn’t military. Was Blake the one who’d taught her how to use a gun? Defend herself? Look for the extraordinary in the ordinary, like disturbed birds suddenly taking flight?

Probably.

He told Blake, “Well, to give the man his due, he was given the name by his superiors. They just had the wrong name.”

Blake winced, a flicker of compassion showing in his hard blue eyes. Maybe the man wasn’t all bad. He shook his head. “Guess I can see how that could mess a dude up.”

“What’s his relationship with your uncle?” Jillian asked, her voice soft, yet firm.

Colton stiffened. “No relationship. Why?”

“Did you ask?”

No. He hadn’t. He hadn’t even thought about it. Keeping his gaze on hers, he pressed Dominic’s speed-dial number. When he answered, Colton said, “One more thing. See if you can find out if there’s a connection between Tremaine and my uncle.”

“I thought about that. Was going to do that anyway, but now I don’t have to sneak it.”

Ouch. “Right. Thanks.”

“Just kidding. I knew you’d ask for it.” Approval tinged his friend’s voice, but it still rankled Colton that Jillian had to remind him to check that. Maybe he needed to start wrapping his mind around the possibility that his uncle might have something to hide. Like murder. And remove himself from the investigation. “Yeah.”

He hung up and Jillian bit her lip and dropped her gaze. She murmured, “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Colton sighed.

As soon as he hung up, his phone buzzed again. He watched Jillian stand and walk to the window. She stood to the side, moving the curtain a fraction in order to look out.

Caution.

As Colton answered the phone, his stomach clenched when Blake strode over to stand next to Jillian.

“Yo! Brady, you there?”

Rick. “I’m here.” Colton turned his back on the pair so he would be able to concentrate. “What is it?”

“Bad day?”

Colton hadn’t meant to sound so sharp. “Something like that, sorry.”

“Maybe this will help make things a little better.” A pause, a shuffle of papers, then, “That scrap of material you pulled from the tree is pretty interesting.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it had paint on it.”

That was interesting? “Paint?”

“Yeah, the kind used on boats.”

That stopped him. Colton asked, “So we’re looking for someone who’s been painting his boat, or someone who visited a boat being painted, or—”

“Okay,” Rick interrupted. “It could be anyone, but it’s probably a good place to start.”

Colton’s fingers tightened around the phone. His uncle owned a boat. Had it been freshly painted? He blew out a frustrated breath. “We’ve got to find this guy, Rick. He’s not going to stop until she’s dead.”

He could almost see the man nodding. “I know. I’ll keep you posted on anything else I can come up with.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and Colton?”

“Yeah?” He turned back toward the window again.

“I had a nice chat with your captain.”

Colton narrowed his eyes on Jillian and Blake. The two were in deep conversation, heads bent toward one another. “So I hear.”

With Blake Wyatt in the hotel room, the air felt thick, like he was trying to breathe through a pillow.

“I just think it’s important that law enforcement stay up to date on the latest technology available to them.”

“I understand that. And can appreciate you looking out for us like that.”

A pause. “What are you up to?”

Colton grinned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re up to something.” He could almost see Rick’s furrowed brow as he paced the floor of the lab. “You guys need this. You’re not going to get out of it.”

“Wouldn’t even try.”

Silence echoed through the phone line. Then Rick muttered, “I gotta go. I’m watching my back, though.”

“Rick, Rick.” Colton clicked his tongue. “So paranoid.”

“Where do you think I learned it from?” he snapped.

The phone clicked off and Colton laughed out loud. Then looked over to see Jillian and Blake still talking.

He did his best to control the little green monster inside, but didn’t have much success. Jillian had told him the man was married. But to some men, a wedding ring didn’t mean squat. Colton decided he’d keep a close eye on Blake, figure out what his game was—and his position in Jillian’s life.

However, the mutinous expression on her face at the moment didn’t bode well for the man on the receiving end.

Colton couldn’t help the dart of satisfaction that shot through him.

“Coming out here was a dumb move,” Jillian hissed. “This was not part of the plan. What about Meg?”

Blake narrowed his eyes. “Meg’s fine. She’s safe.”

“She
was
safe. They’re watching every move I make. I guarantee they saw me and my brainless greeting of you out there in the
middle of the street.” She shook her head and shut her eyes as a tremor rippled through her. How could she have been so thoughtless? So careless? Why hadn’t she stayed in the car and pretended she didn’t know the man?

Hindsight was twenty-twenty, as they say.

Only now, she had to consider that whoever was after her could find out who Blake was, where he lived, and everything else.

Including Meg’s location.

Then again, she could be worried for nothing. If no one had been watching . . .

But she couldn’t hinge her hopes on that. They’d already managed to find Julie Carson, an alias she’d adopted as soon as she’d crossed the California border. She still didn’t know what tipped them off.

“Everything okay?”

Jillian whirled to see Colton standing too close for her comfort. She moved aside to get control of her heart rate. Part of it had to do with Colton’s nearness. The other part, the majority of it, had to do with the fact that one of her best friends could have put her daughter in danger. She forced a smile. “It’s been a rough couple of days, Colton. It’s scary how this person after me seems to know my every move and doesn’t care who gets in his way when he’s coming after me.” She shrugged. “Other than that, I’m good.” Colton frowned at her and she grimaced. No need to take her bad mood out on the man who was doing his best to help her. “Sorry.”

His expression softened. “It’s all right. I’m a little snappy myself today.” He looked at Blake and his eyes cooled. “How long are you here for?”

Blake lifted a brow. “For as long as Jillian needs me.”

Colton grunted and turned to Hunter, who had his phone pressed to his ear. When Hunter waved Colton over to share in the conversation, Jillian grabbed Blake’s forearm. “You have to move Meg. If she’s at the farm, it’s not safe. You can be tracked to it.”

His brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, Blake said, “You didn’t tell me everything, did you?”

Jillian didn’t break eye contact with him. She kept her voice even. “No. I didn’t.”

Blake ran a hand down his face and paced to the window, then back. “You said you saw a murder and that person was after you and you had to get out of town to keep you and Meg safe. You never mentioned how powerful these people were.”

“I know,” she whispered with a glance at Hunter and Colton.

“You really think they’d go all the way to California to get her just to use her against you?”

“With everything in me, I believe it.” She raked back some loose hair and tears filled her eyes. She blinked them back. “It’s been days since I’ve talked to her.” Longing for her child swelled to the point she thought her heart would rupture. “Days, Blake. I miss her so much, it’s like a piece of my heart has been cut out.”

An expression she’d only seen in him once before flitted through his eyes. Fear. Not for himself, but for the little girl he’d helped raise and loved as his own. He finally got it. He gave a short nod. “I’ll take care of it.”

“His name is Blake Wyatt.”

“What else?” Frank pulled out into the traffic stream and headed for the capitol building.

“He’s from Somis, California. Has a huge equestrian ranch out there.”

“Is that where Jillian was living?”

“From what I can tell.”

“Do some more background on this Wyatt character. I want to know what his connection to Jillian is.”

“I’ve already got a friend working on that.”

“And what have you found out?”

“There’s a kid living at the ranch, a girl about ten years old. She’s there along with Blake’s mother.”

“Blake’s kid?”

“No, that’s the funny part. Blake’s wife died about three years ago. They never had children.”

Frank rubbed his chin. “And this matters how?”

“I think the girl belongs to Jillian.”

Frank came to attention. “Well, that puts a different light on things, doesn’t it?”

“Definitely.”

“When are you going to grab her?”

A pause, then, “I’ve already been in touch with your PI. He’s on the way to the ranch as we speak.”

Finally. A way to get to Jillian.

“What about Jillian’s father?”

“I checked. He’s out of town right now at some kind of marketing conference and won’t be home for another three days . . .”

“So we need the girl.”

“That was my thought.”

“Let me know when you have her.”

Frank turned into the parking lot and shut off the car. He climbed out into the heat and felt an instant sweat break over his forehead. He forced a smile to his lips and pulled in a deep breath of the humid air.

As he walked into the building, he nodded and shook hands with those who greeted him, never revealing the turmoil rumbling inside him.

After all, appearances were everything in his position.

He entered his office, took his seat, and unfolded the paper a page had left on his desk. Frank smiled. Whoever had come up with the idea of pages on the floor—college students looking to get a foot in the door of politics—had been a very smart man. At the press of a button, he had someone at his beck and call for as long as he sat in this seat.

Then Jillian’s terrified, accusing stare from ten years ago intruded. Frank’s memory of that night was so fuzzy, but he clearly remembered the argument with the governor, grabbing the gun off the wall, and shooting the man. He remembered Jillian and her running from him.

But not much after that.

He drew in a deep breath.
Why
couldn’t he remember any more than that?
Why
was everything so vague, like it was a dream he was trying to remember instead of something he’d lived through?

Frank looked at the paper. The idea that had bubbled to the surface earlier morphed into an outright plan. He picked up the phone and dialed the number. When his contact came on the line, he said carefully, “You know, there is a high school reunion next Saturday.”

“Yeah?”

“Several of our young people will be attending.”

A pause. “I see. Should be a night to remember.”

“Indeed.”

Frank hung up. He straightened his tie and glanced at the clock. What did Colton know? What did he believe?

He breathed out a deep sigh.

Maybe it was time to stop avoiding his nephew and find out.

Colton set his feet on the coffee table and leaned back. The sun had risen once again. He couldn’t keep up with the days passing. It seemed like he never had enough hours to do all he needed to do before his body begged for rest. If he didn’t have to sleep, he could do so much more.

Knowing Jillian was safe with Blake, Colton had gone into the office this morning and worked on his other cases. Or rather did his best to delegate the ones he hadn’t been able to a couple of days ago.

But now he sat in the living area of the hotel suite sipping a cup of dark coffee and thinking. The Pikes weren’t answering, Jillian had been as jumpy as a junkie in a room full of cops, and Colton was tired of analyzing his feelings for the girl he’d never forgotten. She’d finally slipped into her bedroom, saying she needed some time alone.

That was fine with Colton. He needed some time himself. Time to wrap his mind around the fact that his uncle might possibly be a killer.

It was incomprehensible. Uncle Frank had been a big influence in Colton’s life, supporting him when his parents didn’t, letting him crash in a spare bedroom when the tension at home had become too thick to deal with. A murderer?

Yet Colton knew even good guys could turn bad.

But Uncle Frank?

He didn’t want to believe it, but he had to know.

Colton glanced at the clock on the wall. 2:15. He flicked a look toward the closed bedroom door. Blake had disappeared into the other bedroom thirty minutes ago when his phone rang. Last night, Blake Wyatt had insisted on staying and helping keep watch over Jillian. Colton had chosen to let the man have the room while he took the couch. The couch that was smack dab in between Blake’s room and Jillian’s.

Jaw tight, Colton punched in his uncle’s number one more time. The cell phone clicked immediately over to voice mail. He tried the home number.

To his surprise, his uncle answered on the second ring. “Colton, how are you, son?”

“Full of questions. How are you?”

An awkward silence descended for a moment before Frank gave a short laugh. “Well, not full of answers if that’s what you’re hoping to hear.”

“I need to talk to you about something and I need to do it face-to-face.” He glanced at the clock. “Are you available for a cup of coffee around 3:00?”

“Hold on a second, let me check my calendar.” Frank loved his iPhone, but Colton knew he used a small binder where he wrote down all of his appointments. “Sorry, son. I’ve got a 3:00 meeting that’s going to take me straight through to about 4:30. Then after that I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“What about supper?”

“Nope, I have that fundraiser dinner tonight from around 6:30 till 9:00 or so.”

Colton grimaced. “Come on, Uncle Frank, you’ve never made me work this hard to get some time with you.”

A light sigh filtered through the line. He heard a crinkling sound
like his uncle had turned a page in the calendar. “How about I call you? I’ll try to clear some time for tomorrow.”

“Uncle Frank . . .”

“It’s the best I can do, son.”

He’d give the man one more chance. “All right. But call me before the fundraiser.”

“Sure, sure. See you soon.”

Colton heard the click and hung up his own phone. Weariness tugged at him. Uncle Frank’s avoidance wasn’t earning the man any kind of trust points as far as Colton was concerned.

Determination hardened inside him. He was going to talk to his uncle tonight. If the man didn’t call him back before the fundraiser, he’d track him down.

The next few hours passed in a blur of room service and phone calls. Rick reported nothing new. Colton kept an eye on the clock while he read over a case file he had to be in court to testify on. Jillian’s restlessness came through loud and clear.

When she wasn’t pacing, she was typing on a laptop Blake had managed to provide.

“No internet or email,” Colton had warned.

“I know.”

“It’s secure,” Blake assured him, but Colton wasn’t taking any chances.

And for the next four hours, she typed, putting every detail she could remember about that night into the document.

Every once in a while, she’d stand and stretch. She’d walk to the window, hold herself to the side, and crack the curtain.

The slight bulge under the back of her shirt said she didn’t feel secure enough to leave the gun in her room. He frowned.

And glanced at the clock again.

“He still hasn’t called, has he?”

Colton looked up to see Jillian staring at him. He sighed. “No.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Find him.” Colton dialed his uncle’s cell phone.

No answer.

He tried the house.

When his aunt answered, he grimaced. “Hi, Aunt Elizabeth. Is Uncle Frank around?”

“No, he’s already left for the fundraiser. I didn’t go with him because I’m not feeling well.”

Colton’s brow lifted. His aunt? Not feeling well? “Since when did that stop you from attending a fundraiser?”

Her short, humorless laugh filtered through the line. “Since my head decided it wanted to explode earlier. I’m better now, though.” She paused. “And Frank still hasn’t called you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“How odd.”

Odd. Yeah. That was one way of looking at it. He changed the subject. “Has Uncle Frank recently had his boat painted?”

“The boat? Why are you asking about the boat?”

“I just need to know, Aunt Elizabeth.”

“Well, no, he hasn’t had it painted. Not that I know of, anyway. I mean, he hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

Colton breathed a relieved sigh. “Okay, good.”

“Then again, that doesn’t really mean anything these days.”

Something in her tone snagged his attention. “Everything all right between you two?”

She gave a breathless laugh. “Of course, silly. He’s just so busy with the campaign and work that we haven’t had a whole lot of time to spend talking. Hopefully after the election, we’ll have a few minutes to breathe. And talk.”

He rubbed a hand over his chin. “Where’s the fundraiser?”

“At the Embassy Suites on Stoneridge.”

“Are my parents there?”

“No, not this one. They had something else on the calendar tonight. I think it was one of your mother’s charity dinners.”

“All right. Thanks.”

“You really should talk to them more, Colton.”

Her gentle chiding made him wince. “I know.”

She must have decided to let him off the hook because she said, “Well, he’ll be finished around 9:00 and Ian will pick him up and bring him home. You want me to tell him to call you when he gets in?”

“I’m not too far from there. I think I’ll go see if he’ll let me give him a ride home. We could get a good talk in during that time.” And the man wouldn’t be able to brush him off or come up with a reason he couldn’t spend a few minutes with Colton.

“All right. I’ll let Ian know you’re going to pick him up.”

Colton smiled. “Thanks.”

He hung up and walked over to rap on Jillian’s door.

After a second, he heard rustling, then her beautiful face appeared in front of him. She’d taken a shower and had a towel wrapped around her head. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” She grimaced. “I thought a shower might help me relax enough to get some rest, but it’s not working so well for me right now.”

He nodded. “I’m going to see if I can catch my uncle. He’s just a few blocks over at the Embassy Suites finishing up a fundraiser. I’m going to see if he’ll let me give him a ride home so we can talk.”

She frowned and her face tightened. “I want to go.”

“No.” Colton shook his head and held up a hand. “No way. Let me talk to him first.”

“He’ll deny it.” Her jaw jutted.

Of course he would. Especially if he was innocent. Which Colton found himself doubting as the hours passed and each new piece of information came to light. “How do you feel about being left with Blake?” Colton didn’t like it one bit, but he needed to confront
his uncle. Now. And Blake certainly had the skills to protect her if something happened. Which it wouldn’t.
Please, God.

She shrugged. “I’m fine with it. But it doesn’t matter because I’m going with you.”

“Jillian, that’s a really bad idea. I won’t be gone long.”

She bit her lip. “I want him to look me in the eye and deny it.”

“Not yet. I need to do this alone.”

She opened her mouth to protest and Colton braced himself for an argument. Then she pressed her lips together and nodded. “Fine.”

“Really?”

“Go. Before I change my mind.”

“I need to tell Blake—”

“I’ll take care of Blake.”

Colton gave a short nod and left without another word.