Don't Breathe a Word

by Christie Craig

  “Why can’t I hear?” Bell asked.

  “It’s adult talk.” Vicki gave Bell’s shoulder a squeeze.

  “Is he going to kiss you?” Bell smiled up.

  “Watch TV,” Vicki said.

  Juan followed Vicki into the kitchen.

  As stiff as a toy soldier, she faced him. “What’s happening, Juan?”

  “Detective Milbourn’s in town.”

  Her chest lifted with a breath that came too fast. “Pablo’s old partner?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, God. He found us?” Fear welled up into her eyes.

  “Christina called, said he showed up at the gym. He flashed his badge and someone gave him your address.”

  She cupped her mouth, tears filling her eyes. “How did he know we were here?”

  A shot of acid burned Juan’s stomach. “I called Los Angeles police, but—”

  She stepped back. “You said you were helping us.”

  “I called when I first found your necklace. But I didn’t tell them you—”

  “I trusted you. How could you have done this?”

  “I didn’t…Vicki, you can trust me. I made up a story. But look, I don’t think that’s the only reason he’s here. There’s a bulletin with your picture on the Red Clay PD site. It’s a town about forty miles from here. Do you have any connection there?”

  “No. I…” Her eyes widened. “The flowers. Oh, God.” She inhaled. “It was Alison’s birthday. I sent flowers to her grave. I drove to Red Clay and I paid in cash. I didn’t even sign the card. I didn’t think Pablo would ever go to Alison’s grave.”

  “He must’ve traced the flowers to that florist.” He moved in and put his hands on her shoulders. “I didn’t tell them you were here. I said it was a witness and I described someone who they’d know wasn’t you. I was just trying—”

  “It doesn’t even matter. We have to leave.” She turned.

  He caught her. “It does matter. But right now you need to calm down. If you’re scared, Bell will get scared.”

  She shook her head. “I need to get out of town. Out of Texas,” she muttered.

  “No. You’re not running away this time. We are going to leave here. I just need to figure out a plan.”

  “You don’t understand.” Her voice became painfully low. “If Bell learns that her father’s alive, she’ll be terrified. I have to protect her.” She swiped at a tear escaping from her lashes. “You saw what he did to her. I already failed on my promise to Mom to take care of Alison. I can’t let Bell down. I can’t.”

  “Look at me.” He placed his hands on her shoulders again, could feel the fear vibrating off her. “I’m not letting anything happen. I’ve got the DEA in California and now my partners working this. I’ve already called Mark. We’ve got backup on the way now. Trust me.”

  She pulled in a deep breath. “You don’t know what he’s like. He’s evil.”

  “He’s not going—” His words were punctuated by the shrill ring of his doorbell.

  “I’ll get it,” Bell called.

  “No.” Vicki and Juan tore out of the kitchen.

  “Take her into the bedroom,” he told Vicki.

  As Vicki grabbed Bell and took off, Juan darted into his dining room and peered out to see if a car was in his drive. There was one. But he recognized it and relaxed.

  “It’s okay,” he called out.

  He opened the door and motioned in Mildred, who held two bags.

  Unfortunately, as she entered, he saw Detective Milbourn walking to Vicki’s door. The man’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. He answered the call, but then quickly dropped it back into his pocket.

  “Shit,” Juan muttered. Was he alone? He leaned to the left, but couldn’t see the car that he must have parked on the street. Was Valado with him?

  “What is it?” Mildred asked.

  “Inside.” Juan shut the door, fighting the urge to rush out, slam Milbourn against a wall, and demand answers. But his gut said that to ensure Vicki and Bell were safe, he needed to play this right.

  * * *

  “Mildred!” Bell barreled forward, arms open wide. The joy in her niece’s voice was the polar opposite of what Vicki felt.

  She watched the plump red-haired, grandmotherly woman embrace Bell.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” the woman said, patting Bell’s back.

  “Did you bring the books?” Bell asked expectantly. “Mom, she has some books that her granddaughter outgrew and said I could have.”

  “That’s nice.” Vicki’s attempted smile felt like a deflated balloon.

  “Hi, I’m Mildred,” the woman said to Vicki.

  “Can we go to my house? And bring Sweetie?” Bell glanced at Juan. “Please.”

  “No.” From his tone and taut expression, Vicki’s throat tightened.

  “Why not?” Bell asked.

  “We’re staying here for a while.” Vicki forced the words out.

  “Oh.” Bell looked at the bag Mildred held. “Can I see what you brought?”

  “Sure.” Mildred set the bag down, then looked from Juan to Vicki. She mouthed the words, What’s wrong?

  “Bell,” Juan said, “why don’t you go into my bedroom and spread everything out? We’ll all come in and see what Mildred brought in a few seconds.”

  Bell tilted her head to the side as if she knew something was up.

  “Go on,” Vicki told Bell.

  “More adult talk?” her niece asked.

  Vicki picked up one of the bags and started for the bedroom. Bell followed. Vicki only stayed a second, then hurried back out to the living room.

  Juan was talking to Mildred. But now he had his gun out. “It’s too much to explain right now, but someone’s outside Vicki’s house and he can’t know she’s here.”

  “Milbourn’s here?” Tiny pricks of fear crawled up Vicki’s spine.

  “Yes.” Juan’s shoulders tightened.

  “We have to leave,” Vicki said.

  “Not now.” He tapped his gun against his leg. “When he goes.” His gaze met hers. “We’re safe. He doesn’t know you’re here.”

  Any semblance of safety shattered when the doorbell rang. “Shit!” Juan glanced at Mildred. “He probably saw you walk in. How good of a liar are you?”

  She lifted a well-defined brow. “I’ve been known to tell a few tall tales.”

  “Good.” The doorbell chimed again. “Act like this is your house. He’s probably going to ask you about your neighbor. Say a woman lived there with a kid, but you haven’t seen them in a week. Can you do that convincingly?”

  “Piece of cake.” The woman smiled with a bravado Vicki didn’t share.

  Juan touched her shoulder. “Go back in the bedroom.” The doorbell chimed again. “I’ll be behind the door in case he tries anything.”

  “You think…?”

  “Go.”

  Pulse fluttering in her neck, she ran down the hall. Inside Juan’s bedroom, she closed and locked the door. Bell, surrounded by books and puzzles, wore a Christmas-morning smile, but she took one look at Vicki and it disappeared.

  “Why do you look scared?” Bell asked.

  * * *

  Pablo eased down the street where he’d last tracked Sam’s phone. His soon-to-be-dead ex-partner answered the call, but hung up, then turned his phone off again. Pablo stopped in front of a redbrick house. Suddenly the accuracy of the tracker’s range of forty or fifty yards didn’t feel so exact. Especially when the houses were so close together.

  He studied the three houses. Sam had been here, visiting someone in one of these homes. Which one? Why? Was Vicki here?

  If so, why was Sam keeping it from him? He had to be after Pablo’s money. It couldn’t be the logbook. Sam wasn’t smart enough to open his own operation.

  Right then he saw a pink bicycle on the porch of the white brick house next door. What was the chance that it was his kid’s bike?

  He almost pulled over, but a woman working in a flower b
ed across the street had turned and was studying him. Fucking great!

  Driving off, he turned the corner and headed down the street parallel to the one he’d been on. The middle-income homes appeared abandoned. No doubt the owners mostly worked. He looked at the clock on his dashboard. It was a little early for schoolkids to be home. He passed six houses, believing one of these backed up the white brick house, then he parked between houses.

  Before getting out, he looked left, then right. No one was around. He chose the house that didn’t have a car parked in the driveway and moved to the side gate leading into the backyard. It was locked, but one good push got him inside. A dog barked next door.

  Hurrying across to the back fence, he touched his Glock tucked into the side of his jeans, and glanced back to make sure he didn’t see anyone in the house peering out the window. He didn’t. The sound of someone’s air-conditioner turning on filled the hot air.

  A drop of sweat rolled down his brow. Hesitating, he peered through the fence slats to confirm he was at the right house. The white brick structure on the other side told him he was.

  He hoisted himself up and over the fence. His feet landed with a thud. The nearby dog barked harder. He pulled out his gun, the weight of it feeling good in his palm.

  Moving past a lawn chair, he took everything in. There were toy dishes on the side of the concrete patio. Was this Vicki’s house? Was she home? The thought of being this close to her made his dick hard.

  He peered in the living room window. On the sofa were a couple of stuffed animals and a blanket.

  He went to the back door, turned the knob. Locked.

  Afraid the sound of breaking the window might get the dog started again, he stuffed his gun back into the waistband of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. Before he’d become a cop, he’d gotten quite handy with credit-card entry. Some of the newer locks were designed better, but this one didn’t look that new.

  After only a couple of minutes, the lock gave. Gun back in his hand, he quietly stepped onto the wood floor. It creaked with his weight. He stopped and listened. Only the sound of the refrigerator making ice filled the house. The lack of noise told him no one was home. On the floor were a couple more toys. Beside them was a basket with some clothes in it.

  He moved over to the basket. Picking up a woman’s shirt, he mentally sized it up to Vicki’s frame. It would fit her. Then he found a few kid-sized pink T-shirts.

  This was their house, he felt it.

  Why had Sam lied? Yup, he had to be trying to get the money for himself. A need to put a bullet right between that bastard’s eyes bit hard.

  Pablo let his gaze shift around the living room. And since Sam had been here, did that mean the money wasn’t? He moved into the kitchen and opened the door leading out to the garage. A small Toyota was parked there.

  A slight groaning sound had him turning around. Was someone home? Or just a water pipe creaking?

  Light spilled out of a door left ajar down the hall. He went to the door and peered in, easing it open.

  A feminine scent filled his nose as he scanned the empty bedroom. For sure it was her. He remembered her smell. Remembered wanting to fuck that smell. Adrenaline pumped through his body.

  He moved to the bed. His gaze shifted, catching on the man’s shirt hanging off the bedpost. So she had a man, did she? He was going to miss her.

  A small suitcase sat open on the other side of the bed. Some clothes hangers lay scattered beside the luggage. He turned to the opened closet. It had a few clothes in it, but there were several more empty hangers left on the floor, as if someone had grabbed some things quickly and fled.

  Fuck. Where was she? Did Sam have Vicki?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Juan lowered his car visor. The setting sun beamed right into his eyes. Twisting his shoulders, he felt his gun pressing against a bruised rib. Probably the one Vicki had kicked. He wanted to pull the weapon out, but feared it would make Bell or even Vicki nervous.

  Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw Bell sleeping in her car seat with Sweetie asleep on the seat beside her. He reached under his shirt, lifted the gun out, and set it in the side pocket of the rented SUV Mark had picked up for them. He studied Vicki, seat back, eyes closed in slumber. The stress wrinkle between her brows had finally smoothed out.

  It had been so tempting to send someone else to watch them while he went looking for Milbourn and possibly Pablo, but he couldn’t imagine trusting their safety to someone else.

  Besides, Vicki didn’t trust that easy. Hell, she didn’t even trust him right now. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

  She’d been so upset about his call to LAPD that she’d barely spoken while they’d been at Mildred’s, waiting for Mark to deliver a rental car. Since there was a slight chance Milbourn might suspect he was involved, Juan had left his vehicle behind.

  Milbourn had driven off right after Mildred told him she hadn’t seen her neighbor. She’d played her part perfectly. Juan owed her. Shortly after that, two plainclothes officers parked in front of his house. But they’d been too late to follow Milbourn.

  Juan had made quick work of grabbing the essentials at Vicki’s house and they’d driven to Mildred’s, where he’d decided the safest place to go was his and his brother’s cabin on Piney Lakes. A hundred miles away from anything connected to Vicki’s location in Anniston, it felt like it offered safety.

  The drive on the quiet, curvy country road was sleep-inducing. How many trips up here as children had he and his brother spent sleeping the entire drive? His parents had bought the place when he’d been six, back before his dad had started really drinking and before the property shot up in value.

  Right then the burner cell phone in his pocket rang. Another thing Mark had provided. The shrill sound shattered the silence. He answered it quickly, hoping it wouldn’t wake up his sleeping passengers.

  “Yeah?” He spoke in a low voice.

  “Hey,” Jody’s chipper voice echoed across the line. “We got him.”

  “Got…him?” he asked, not wanting to say the man’s name in case Bell was listening. He cut his eyes to the rearview mirror. She hadn’t stirred. “Him?”

  “Not him.”

  “You got the DNA back already?”

  “Not that, either. I had one of my men go recheck the Willis crime scene, hoping we might find something the LAPD missed. We struck gold. The woman had a nanny cam. And you’ll never guess who’s on it.”

  “You sure it’s him?”

  “It’s not the best image, but it was good enough that I just put out an APB on his ass. We’re going to catch him. Oh, and that’s not all. Can you handle some more good news?”

  “Try me.”

  Vicki shifted in her seat and he glanced that way. Her gaze met his and she reached down to raise her seat.

  He smiled at her. “What else you got?” he asked Jody.

  “The print from the car that your partner sent. The one you think belongs to Noel’s shooter? I got a match. It’s from a Robert Duarte. U.S. Marshals picked him up about thirty minutes ago. I’m going to talk to him shortly. But get this: We learned he had ties to an Alexander Esparza. We don’t know a hell of a lot about Mr. Esparza, except he had some drug issues about six years ago, but he had some fancy lawyer and got off. We’ve had him on our radar since then, but couldn’t get shit on him. I think this is our Rex. The same guy who you thought was supplying the Guzman gang when you were undercover. And Esparza is mentioned in the logbook. I think you finally got your man. I know this has to feel good.”

  It did feel good. “Thank you,” he said.

  “We got someone looking into Milbourn now, but I told your partner if you run into him again, drag his ass in. We got enough to question him. I’ll update you if I get anything.”

  “Yeah.” He hung up.

  Vicki peered in the backseat to check on Bell. “What is it?” she asked in a whisper.

  His smile widened, but not knowing if Bell was awake, he
chose his words wisely. “We got the proof you were hoping we’d get.”

  “On…” She mouthed the word Pablo. “That he’s alive?” Her eyes widened.

  He nodded.

  Tears filled her gaze. “For real?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  She pressed a hand over her mouth. Then pulled it away and brushed a tear off her cheek. “I can’t believe it.”

  “You can,” he said.

  She exhaled and it sounded like a pound of worry left her chest. “Have they got him in custody?”

  “No. But Jody put out an all-points bulletin.”

  She leaned in closer. “In L.A. or here?”

  “There for now. But—”

  “What if he’s already here?” Fear filled her eyes. “Isn’t that what you think? Why we’re—”

  “We’ll put one up here, too, just in case. And we don’t know if he’s here or if it’s just Milbourn. That’s why we’re going to the cabin.” He reached over and took her hand in his.

  She looked down at their joined hands. When she glanced up, some of the fear had vanished. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  “Everything, but mostly for…getting upset earlier about not trusting you. You’ve done so much and I know it seems like I don’t appreciate it.”

  “You’re worried. I get that.”

  The momentary silence was shattered when Bell let out a piercing scream. “Stop! Stop!” she pleaded.

  His gaze shot to the rearview mirror. Bell fought against the restraints of her car seat. Her legs kicked, and her tiny hands punched into the air. Sweetie whined on the seat next to her.

  “It’s okay,” Vicki said. “It’s just a dream, baby.” She unbuckled her seat belt and bolted over the console to get to the child.

  Juan pulled over to the side of the road. He remembered Vicki telling him Bell sometimes had nightmares about what her father had done.

  He curled his own hands into fists, fury curled inside his gut as he listened to the child’s screams.

  * * *

  Holding Sweetie, Vicki watched Juan carry Bell up the cabin steps. Once on the porch, she gave the area a quick glance. Night claimed them. The darkness clung to the trees like a threat. Only a few lights showed in the distance. She hoped Juan was right about them being safe here.