I heard him calling my name when the dark tendrils pulled me under.
Chapter Seventeen
Ross Granger
“You almost killed her,” Ross Granger growled while pointing at the screen they’d been watching. The little drone helicopter hovering near the tree line had caught it all. “She wasn’t supposed to be there. No one was.”
“She’s fine,” Nikko Porter said. “You wanted me to get rid of the evidence they had, and I did. Hell, I even waited for the Bray woman to leave the premises. We watched her leave and followed her to the store.
“And yet there she is,” Granger growled. “She almost died. If you so much as hurt that child in her belly, then all of our plans, all my life’s work is ruined. Ruined, do you hear me?”
Nikko glared at him. The menace in the man’s eyes triggered a smidgeon of dread in Ross’s gut. He enjoyed watching the destruction and being up close and personal. He’d always enjoyed doing the stuff that Ross couldn’t quite stomach. It was why they worked so well together and why their employer had paired them in the first place. Ross was the brains of this operation, and Nikko was the muscle. Pinning the deaths of those women in the program on the psychotic sperm donor, Flint Greymore, was a stroke of genius, even though Nikko had been the one to come up with the plan. None of the evidence existed now, and soon neither would Greymore.
They were close to getting what they both wanted. Less than nine months now and they’d be drinking champagne on a private island, and Ross would be out of this business for good.
“It’s time for me to take care of the others and earn my pay,” Nikko said, using the controls on the drone to fly it across the city. He didn’t stop until it was hovering over a three-story house. “It’s time for the real Dr. Cline to have an accident.”
“You’re going to hurt him?” Ross asked.
“You do your job and let me do mine. He wasn’t scheduled to return from missionary work for another two years. This was all supposed to be settled by then.” Nikko lowered the drone nearby after his reconnaissance before cutting the screen off. He checked the clip in his gun and patted Ross on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Doc, soon only Dr. Bray will remain. After she gives birth, you’ll have everything you want.”
Chapter Eighteen
Lucy Bray
I slowly opened my eyes and turned away from the sun warming my face. Birds in the distance chirped as a screen door slammed shut.
I slid out of the unfamiliar bed, relieved to find I was still in my own clothes. I moved to the window and peered outside.
A lake was in the distance surrounded by trees and shore. A lake I knew well, even though I’d only been there briefly.
Letting the sheer curtain slip from my fingers, I glanced around the room once more and found a picture frame sitting on the dresser. Carson and his brothers, holding fishing rods and smiling like dorks.
All the memories of the hours before I’d passed out came rushing back like the sea during a tsunami. Images and information flooded my mind, making it difficult to breathe.
Noah was dead. I rubbed at the pain in my clenched chest in an attempt before I headed down the stairs. The screen door allowed voices from the porch to drift inside.
All talking stopped when I stepped out. Three sets of eyes stared at me.
“I told you that you were going to wake her up.”
“I couldn’t help it. The door caught on the wind,” the other brother argued.
“It was time for her to get up anyway if you’re going to figure out this mess,” Carson’s older brother said.
I raised a brow at him.
He shrugged. “You’ve slept an entire day, Lucy. I tried to get him to wake you earlier, and he wouldn’t.”
I leaned against the railing, staring out at the lake. “It wasn’t just a bad dream?”
“Afraid not, Doc,” Carson said. He jerked his head toward his brothers and his thumb toward the house.
With the sound of the screen door opening and closing, Carson’s brothers left Carson and me alone.
“What about Ford and the others?” I asked.
“I checked in and told them where I was taking you. Ford should be here within the hour with Gigi and Sam. Grant stayed behind to help Hunt interrogate Director Matthews.”
I took one of the vacated rocking chairs. “Our evidence is gone.”
“Not all of it,” Carson said. “We have three of the seven files of the pregnant women from the Crater Lake killings. The starting point in all of this clustered mess. If we figure out those murders, we’ll figure out what in the hell Ross Granger is up to.”
I rocked the chair slowly, my gaze still out on the glistening lake water. This was the original place where I’d chosen sides. I chose my friends and family over following the rules and the job. It seemed like eons ago.
“Okay,” I said, shaking away the memories of previous days. “Let’s finish this for Noah.”
“About that.” Carson’s face softened. “They got a heartbeat on the way to the hospital.”
My heart leaped in my chest, and goosebumps rose on my arms. “Really?” All the hope in my body could be heard in that one word.
“Really.” Carson smiled. “He’s still not out of the woods yet, but he’s alive.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” I said, and I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my body.
“Okay, now let’s get these psychos. Where are the files, and what do we know?”
Carson rose, pulled open the screen door, and led me into the house.
He indicated a chair at the wood dining room table, which had seen decades of wear and tear in the same house with three boys.
“We know all three women are dead. We know their bodies were dumped in Crater Lake. We know this is the file Claudia was working that might have gotten her killed. And we know Ross lied about not treating any pregnant women.”
“We also know that Ross and whoever he was talking to are trying to tie up loose ends. There is one other person we need to talk to. One man who might tell us more.”
“Who?” Carson asked.
“Flint Greymore, the man accused of the Crater Lake killings,” I said.
“He’s currently doing time at Glendale psych ward.”
I smiled and glanced in his direction. “My old stomping ground. We need a plan, Carson. A way to keep people safe until we find Ross and get our answers.”
Chapter Nineteen
Not long ago, I didn’t believe in love. I didn’t think anyone would be there for me the way I needed it. And then I met him. He wasn’t perfect, far from it, much like me. It was why we worked.
Ford stepped out of the truck and tossed his bag over his shoulder. He was casual today in only suit pants and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Stress lines etching his face eased and softened as he captured my gaze from across the yard. Something passed between us, something that was becoming more familiar every day.
I loved Ford, and I needed him in a way I’d never needed anyone before.
He was the other half of me. The smarter half. The saner half. The better half that made me whole.
He strolled up onto the porch as if it were just him and me in our own little void. Gazes held steadfast as he neared. He dropped the bag at his feet and cupped my cheeks before slowly lowering his lips to mine in a kiss that claimed he was never leaving me again.
I didn’t pull away. I didn’t break the connection. I needed this, and for once, I wasn’t going to claim to be the strong one. We were okay in every way that mattered.
Slowly as his eyes opened and his lips eased from mine, the cocoon around us started to dissipate, and the chaotic world re-emerged.
“You good?” he asked.
“As good as can be expected,” I answered, taking his hand.
I turned toward the others. The panic in my body subsided. Most everyone I cared about was within reaching distance, everyone but Noah and Grant. My friends, my family, were al
l accounted for and safe. Keeping them that way was going to take a miracle when dealing with the maniac who liked to blow crap up. I wasn’t sure we’d run far enough out of reach.
Within an hour of getting settled, we were all sitting around the big dining room table. Carson’s granddaddy had built it decades ago when craftsmanship meant things were made to last longer. The thick and heavy pine told a story of years gone by and family.
Gigi had commandeered the kitchen, and recruited Carson’s brothers to help with dinner. Sam was complaining about the crappy internet connection being in the woods by the lake. Carson and Ford were reading through the Crater Lake files that I’d already been through, twice.
We were out of FBI resources. I wasn’t willing to call anyone for help due to being unsure how far this mess went up the command chain. Only a handful of people, who had been vetted and given clearance, knew the Watermill was our working facility.
That revelation had sent another chill of unease down my spine.
The constant tick of the clock on the wall was hard to ignore. We were running out of time. Voices in the kitchen drifted out into the living room. The weather girl's voice on TV grew loud with her pitch.
Everything seemed magnified and yet somehow dulled at the same time. At the first pinpricks of an oncoming headache, I stepped outside onto the porch and let the offending sounds drift away.
Ford watched me through the screen door and I sent him a smile. He nodded, important words staying unspoken between us. He turned his attention back to the file he’d been reading. I inhaled a deep breath of the evergreen trees in the woods and lake beyond.
The headache forming eased slightly. The calm around me helped to keep me grounded. I eased into the rocking chair and pushed it into motion. I focused my gaze on the water, letting it soothe me, even if the ghost sitting beside me had the opposite effect.
“You saved my daughter and my best friend.” Claudia’s words were a whisper in my brain as if this conversation were private, one only she and I could share.
“What the hell, Carson?” Sam yelled as the lights on the porch flickered before the lamp in the window went dark.
“I’ll check the breaker,” I heard one of Carson’s brothers announce.
“Neat trick, pulling energy like that. Next time I need the lights to go out, I’ll give you a call.”
Claudia grinned. “Now, I know why Noah likes you. You’re a smartass too.”
I shrugged. “Tell me who killed you so I can end this.”
Claudia sighed as if she had working lungs and a body that wasn’t see-through. Old habits, I guessed.
“The program killed me. You were smart to leave.”
I chuckled. “I didn’t leave. I was committed to a psych ward.”
“They forgot about you for a while. That’s what was important. It probably saved your life, or you might have ended up like me and the others.”
“Did the same person kill you and the ladies at the lake?”
“Yes.” There was no venom in her words. Not like there would be in mine if the roles were reversed. “Greymore played a special part in all of this.”
“What did he do?”
Her gaze softened. “It takes two to make a whole.”
My mouth snapped open. “He’s the father?”
I don’t know how I knew it. I just did—the one man who would try to save the women. Like Ford would try to save me.
She nodded. “He was supposed to be a genius. What woman wouldn’t want that DNA for their child?”
“That’s the connection you saw. You knew it was related because you were in the program. You had a child too.”
“Those men took our babies. He’s still trying to take mine, and he’s going to take yours. You have to intervene.” Claudia’s words held a bite.
“Who’s running this shitshow. Is it Ross?”
She shook her head. “The betrayal runs much deeper than that.”
My mind raced, climbing through the ranks and stopping at a man who knew about all of it. All of the programs. Who might have had a hand in having the doctor provide the meds. The same man who might have kept tabs on Grant and me. “Director Matthews?”
“The others and I agree. You’ll be a good mother to all of them,” Claudia said as she drifted out of view.
The light at the window flickered on. I jumped from my seat and hurried into the house.
“Director Matthews is in on it,” I yelled.
“We just heard, but how did you know?” Carson asked.
Grant’s face was on the computer screen. A worried look shadowed his eyes.
“He’s the one behind it all,” I said, hurrying across the room. “Grant, you have to pick up the director. He had Claudia killed.”
“You’re about three hours too late,” Grant said, turning the camera of his phone so that I could see the burned-out remains of a car fire.
The sight turned my legs into limp noodles. My stomach rolled. Any hope of finding Ross died in that car.
I gagged, and covered my mouth with my hand as I ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time. I’d barely made it into the bathroom and had time to slam the door before I heaved, clutching my empty stomach.
Matthews was the enemy. It made sense. He held the answers, and now, where were we? We had nothing but Ross and his pyro left to find.
There was a knock on the door. “Lucy, I’m coming in.”
Gigi’s soft, comforting voice didn’t help ease the panic that was racing through my body.
The door opened, and I met my sister’s gaze. “You don’t look so hot.”
“The one man who could have answered what the hell they did to my baby is now dead. That means I can’t kill the doctor. Not until I get him to talk.”
Gigi nodded. “Life isn’t fair. You and I know that better than anyone.” She glanced at the empty toilet. “When was the last time you ate?”
I shrugged, unsure of the answer. It might have been the crackers from the day before. “I don’t know.”
She nodded and pulled a pen that was holding her bun in place. She held it up, and her eyes were serious. “You aren’t a victim. You’ve never been a victim,” she said, handing me the pen. “Now, let’s get some food in your system. You’re going to need your strength to find the doctor and kick his ass.”
“Gigi, we don’t even know where to look for the guy. Not with the director dead.”
“You’ll find the connection, Lucy, even without the new blood in your system. You’re just that good.”
My twin had faith in me that I didn’t even have in myself. If there was a connection, I didn’t see it. I followed her out of the bathroom and back down the stairs.
Talking ceased at the table as we neared.
“Dinner will be done in fifteen minutes,” Gigi said in passing.
“You okay?” Sam asked.
“I will be,” I answered.
“Lucy, how did you connect all of this to the director?” Carson asked.
“I didn’t. Claudia told me.” I pointed at Sam’s computer. “All these energy glitches, those are her trying to manifest.”
“Did she tell you anything else useful?” Ford asked. He held out a chair and gestured for me to sit.
I gladly complied. “Yeah, she did,” I said, pulling out my phone. I dialed Grant’s number.
“What did she say?” Sam asked.
I held up my finger as Grant answered. “Hey.”
“Grant, Ross and the pyro are tying up loose ends. There’s only one more person we haven’t secured yet.”
“Who?” he asked.
“Flint Greymore. He’s the sperm donor to the missing kids. He was in the program. They’ll make a play on him before this is over.”
“We can move him,” Grant said.
“Or…” I turned to meet the others’ gazes. A smile split my lips. “We can set a trap and figure out once and for all who the hell we’re dealing with. Can you get eyes on the psych ward until we ge
t there? I’m sure Pyro is doing some sort of recon to figure out the best way to get into the place.”
“Lucy, we can have him moved and make him unreachable,” Grant said.
“He’s our last connection to this case. We need him alive and somewhat visible, even if not reachable to draw Ross out of hiding.”
“And unharmed.” Gigi said, carrying out a lasagna dish.
I shrugged. “I guess she’s right. We need him unharmed too. Can you work on that while we devise a plan to stop these assholes once and for all?”
“I’m on it,” Grant said before he disconnected the call.
“Come eat and be devious,” Gigi said with a wink.
Chapter Twenty
It was unreal being back in the psych ward. The place was exactly as I remembered it with white walls and sterile everything. There was no color besides the personalities of the committed patients. It was quieter today than it had been when I’d been a resident. The soft squeak of my white nurse shoes as I entered the day room complemented the scrubs I wore and the wig on my head. The pen in my hair was the only weapon I needed. The ID on my uniform had just been printed this morning.
Some men and women in hospital-appropriate clothing sat captivated in front of the television. Others were playing cards, and one was perched at the windowsill with an easel and paints. All of this was with nurses and orderlies nearby, watching in anticipation of potential episodes. That was what they called the incidents when one of us got out of control.
To say the doctors and administrators in the psych ward weren’t pleased with our plan was an understatement. I wasn’t the only one in the building. Carson was sitting close to Flint, acting as a relative that had been allowed visitation.
Grant and Ford were somewhere nearby waiting and watching for any signs of Ross Granger and anyone else that didn’t look like they belonged.
“Noah’s connections reached out. We got intel on the three FBI guys who paid you a visit at your house,” Grant said through my earpiece.
Guarding Justice (Fractured Minds Series Book 7) Page 9
