Malice

by Jennifer Jaynes

  He tried to smile again. After all, everything was good now. Better than good. It was the best it had ever been.

  CHAPTER 51

  MIA

  Four Days Later . . .

  MIA PARKED THE Jetta behind a surf shop in Clearwater Beach, Florida, and climbed out. It was a little past 9:00 p.m., and the air smelled of salt and marijuana smoke. She clipped Bruce’s leash to his collar, locked the car doors, and headed toward the small strip of storefronts.

  As she rounded the corner, a street musician began performing a cover of Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville.” Mia’s insides untethered all over again, and tears welled up in her aching eyes. She and Daniel had listened to that song so many times during their happier days.

  A huge part of her heart had died back in California, and she knew she’d never get it back. She also didn’t think she’d ever get over the overwhelming sorrow. Oh, Daniel. She missed him so much. And she was beside herself with worry about Christian.

  Her world had tilted on its axis yet again. She’d spent the last few days lying in the fetal position in a motel room bed, seesawing between feelings of grief, anger, and fear . . . vacillating from pain to numbness and back again all in a moment’s notice.

  Gail had made good on her promise and had found Christian. He was alive but barely. She’d found him at Valley Presbyterian in the intensive care unit, having suffered a gunshot wound to the chest. Under the guise that she was Christian’s aunt, Gail had visited him twice so far. The bullet had collapsed a lung and ruptured his diaphragm. He was on a respirator in critical condition, and the doctors said it was still touch and go. At this point, it was fifty-fifty whether he’d recover. At Mia’s request, Gail had whispered in his ear that Mia had to go away for a little while, but that she loved him and was thinking about him every moment of every day. And that she’d contact him soon. That she’d be back once all this blew over. To stay strong and hang in there. Gail said she wasn’t sure how much he’d heard or understood because his nurse had said he was heavily sedated and he’d been unmoving, his eyes glazed and half-closed. Gail promised to visit him again tomorrow and give her another update.

  Mia wanted more than anything to drive back to California to be with Christian, but it would be too dangerous—plus, it would likely put him in harm’s way. She’d been racking her brain trying to figure out how he’d possibly been connected to any of this but hadn’t had any luck. Gail said she was working on it, and if or when she found out, Mia would be the first to know.

  Not wanting Daniel’s death to be in vain, Mia had given Gail her story. She told her everything she’d witnessed inside the house that night and everything Daniel had told her about Respira and what Teddy had told him. Gail had planned to publish a story about it this morning, but someone had hacked into her server, and her site had been down all day.

  The strip of storefronts was bustling with teenagers and young adults, some of them swaying to the street musician’s music. With Bruce’s leash in her hand, Mia tucked her chin and hurried toward the beach. She heard several female voices ooh and aww over Bruce, but she pretended not to hear.

  When she’d called Sam and told him what had happened, he’d given her the number of his older brother, Fred, and told her to call him immediately. Apparently, Fred was still caught up in illegal dealings after all these years and was now well connected in the underground world. Fred had instructed her to lie low for the last few days, then show up at this beach in Clearwater tonight.

  Mia stepped from the sidewalk to the sand and stared out at the moonlit ocean. She pushed off her flip-flops and tossed them in the backpack, then let Bruce off the leash. He darted toward the water. Tonight was the first time since the night of Daniel’s murder that the animal wasn’t actively grieving, searching for his owner, his ears pressed against his skull.

  She folded her arms across her middle, the sound of the surf and the scent of the salty sea making her feel closer to Daniel. The breeze picked up, whipping her hair into her face. She buried her feet in the cool sand and watched Bruce in the distance, digging at something. Then she caught a glimpse of someone up the beach about fifty yards away, heading toward her. Her heartbeat stuttered as she watched Bruce eyeball the man and bound up to him.

  The guy knelt and pet the dog, and she wondered if the man was Fred. She figured it had to be. After all, besides the two of them, the beach was deserted. The big crowds were back at the strip. The guy straightened and started walking toward her again. She shivered as he got closer. At this point, it was difficult to trust anyone.

  “Mia?” His voice was deep. Different than it had been all those years ago.

  “Yeah,” she said, her muscles relaxing a little.

  “It’s me, Fred.”

  He stood across from her now, a backpack of his own slung over one shoulder. “Man, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Over twenty years. You’re all grown up now, and you . . . you changed your hair,” he said, gesturing to his own hair.

  Back at the motel room, she’d cut her hair into a pixie cut and dyed it blonde.

  Fred looked different, too. The last time she’d seen him was right before he’d gotten busted for trying to rob a convenience store. He’d been only twenty.

  “A lot of people are looking for you right now. You know that, right? Your photo is everywhere.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  The news outlets were reporting her as a person of interest in Daniel’s death. Her image—the photo her coworker had posted to Facebook—was splashed across media outlets all over the country. They were claiming she was armed and dangerous.

  “Did you do what I suggested about the motel in Alabama?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, thanks for that.” Back in Mobile, she’d pulled off the highway and rented a motel room for a week using her real identity, Mia Winters. She’d stayed in the room for fewer than five minutes, only long enough to leave some clothes and a notepad with a note that indicated she was planning to meet someone at a restaurant in Mobile at the end of the week. Fred thought that this extra step would help buy her some time to get safely out of the country. After leaving the note, she’d lifted another pair of license plates and driven to Clearwater.

  Fred grabbed the backpack and unzipped it. “It’s all here,” he said. “New Social Security number, passport, driver’s license, and birth certificate.”

  “Great, thank you.” She took the phone and envelope and slid both into the main holding area of her backpack, then grabbed the money to pay him.

  Fred shook his head. “Keep it. Sam said this is on him.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes at Sam’s continued kindness. “Thank you.”

  “You heading out tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, good. Do you need anything else?” Fred asked. “Have a place to stay tonight?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  Bruce whined at her feet.

  Fred’s gaze went to the dog. “So, is this the big guy you were talking about?”

  Mia swallowed. “Yes, this is Bruce.”

  She knelt and massaged the scruff around Bruce’s head, and tears spilled down her face. She was leaving Bruce with Fred. She hated to do it, but it would be too risky to fly anywhere with a three-legged dog right now, especially internationally. Like Fred had said, a lot of people were looking for her.

  Sam assured her that Fred would give Bruce a good home. But God, she would miss him. He was the only piece of Daniel she had left. Maybe someday when . . . if . . . she was able to come back . . . But it was way too soon to think about the possibility of that now.

  “Goodbye, handsome,” she whispered. Bruce stared at her and panted, and his tail wagged back and forth.

  A sob erupted from the back of her throat.

  “Thanks for taking him in,” she said, still looking at Bruce.

  “Absolutely.”

  She scratched the dog behind the ears and gave him a long kiss on his moist nose. Then she said go
odbye to both of them and headed back toward her car.

  As she walked, she stared up at the moon. She thought about Daniel and Christian again, and the moon started sliding in and out of focus. She rubbed the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath.

  Daniel had been flawed, but he was also warm, loving, and honest, and he was only the second man she’d ever known who had treated her well. Sam being the first. Christian had been messy, smoked too much weed, was funny and caring. He also had loved and accepted her. Even though she had given him up, he hadn’t given up on her.

  God, it was all so unfair.

  She didn’t think she’d ever get over the heartbreak.

  She exhaled gently; then tucking her chin to her chest, she pulled her jacket closer to her body and walked back toward the strip.

  Her mind looped back to the choices she’d made, all the secrets. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d done anything differently, if Daniel would maybe still be here. There was no way of knowing for sure. She thought about their conversations about being destined for happiness or not. They’d both been right. Neither of them had.

  Reaching the parking lot, she hit the unlock button on her key fob and slipped into the car. When she pulled onto the main drag, an electronic billboard caught her attention, and anger flared in her belly. Another ad for Respira. Although she’d just lost nearly everything, the machine would keep marching on. It wasn’t right. She averted her eyes and watched the road.

  She was driving to Tampa tonight and was going to fly to Thailand in the morning. She’d stay with Sam until she could fully process everything and figure out her next steps. If Christian pulled through, she was going to help him in every way possible from Thailand until things died down and she could figure out a way to safely get back to the States. She’d also reach out to Claire and explain what had happened. Although she wasn’t a fan of Daniel’s sister, the poor woman hadn’t deserved to lose her brother. She also deserved the truth.

  When she got a second wind, she was going to finish what Daniel had started and was going to help Gail as much as she could to bring about awareness of Respira’s dangers. The way she saw it, she now had a purpose bigger than herself for the first time in her life. Maybe she wasn’t destined for happiness, but maybe she could help someone else live a happily ever after. Maybe her life could mean something.

  Tomorrow she would be going underground indefinitely—and Mia and the life she’d created for herself would disappear forever . . . and someone else would be born.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I HAVE SEVERAL incredible people to thank for supporting me during the writing of this novel. Jessica Tribble, thank you for both your belief in this book and your patience. This novel was by far the most challenging to write for various reasons. I want to thank Gracie Doyle, Sarah Shaw, and all the other incredible people at Thomas & Mercer . . . the publisher of my dreams. I can hardly believe this is already my sixth thriller with you!

  A huge thanks to my first readers, Jennifer LeBlanc, Roger Canaff, Izabela Jeremus, Tim Welch, Bruce Gardner, Sara Koelsh, and Bevin Armstrong. You guys are wonderful. Thank you for being so generous with your time.

  A very special thank-you to Deanna Finn and David Wilson, who both read probably the first twenty drafts of this book and gave me excellent feedback. I’m so very grateful for you two for many reasons. This book wouldn’t have been the same without your help.

  Thank you to Charlotte Herscher for being the best developmental editor ever. I hope you stay in this industry for many, many years to come. Working with you is always an incredible experience.

  Dr. Shobhit Aurora, Dr. Genevieve King, Dr. Leanne Davis, Dr. Jocelyn Stamat, and Cynthia J. Ward, MSN, RN, thank you for answering my medical questions. Heather Turano, Jessica Fitch, Nikie DesRoches, Cher D’Beck, Robert Meyers, and Brandi Lewis, thank you for sharing your stories with me. You are such amazing parents. Also, a huge thank-you to JB Handley, Del Bigtree, Brittney Kara, Elaine Shtein, Mary Jo Perry, and Shawn Forshage for tirelessly spreading awareness about the many different categories of drugs parents might want to take a closer look at.

  Last but certainly not least, I owe a great deal of gratitude to my husband, Brian, for being a first reader, giving me constructive notes, and, most of all, for helping with the twins and the household so I could write. I love and appreciate you.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2014 Alan Weissman

  #1 USA TODAY AND internationally bestselling author Jennifer Jaynes graduated from Old Dominion University with a bachelor’s degree in health sciences and holds a certificate from the Institute for Integrative Nutrition. She made her living as a content manager, webmaster, news publisher, medical assistant, editor, publishing consultant, and copywriter before finally realizing her dream as a full-time novelist. Jennifer is the author of six thrillers, including Disturbed, The Stranger Inside, Never Smile at Strangers, Don’t Say a Word, and Ugly Young Thing; and the children’s book I Care About Me. When she’s not writing or spending time with her husband and twin boys, Jennifer loves reading, cooking, and studying nutrition. Visit Jennifer at www.jenniferjaynes.net.