Dangerous Deceptions: A Christian Romantic Suspense Boxed Set Collection

by Lisa Harris

  “If you’d listened to me… You said you’d been looking for that cave for years. How did you never find it?”

  “I’m not rising to your bait.” Vince crossed his arms, stared straight ahead. “I looked. I missed it. I did the best I could.”

  James settled against the tailgate again. He wasn’t mad at Vince. He was mad at himself. Had they tipped the killer off, sent him running?

  How would they ever know?

  “Turns out Eugene was at the police station yesterday about noon. Let’s say he left the police station and went up to the mountain and tried to kill Cassidy.” Vince’s voice held more than a hint of skepticism. “What I understand, he had Cassidy cornered up at the shack at the campground. Why didn’t he kill her then?”

  The campground? Had Eugene realized who Cassidy was when he saw her the first time? Based on what Cassidy had told him, James didn’t think so.

  “When he saw you two on the mountain,” Vince said, “why not shoot then?”

  James had asked himself the same question. “Maybe he didn’t want to kill me. Maybe he didn’t want me to catch him. Maybe he didn’t think we’d find the cave, and when we did—”

  “Lots of maybes.”

  “Isn’t that your job, to look into maybes?”

  “I’m doing my job. I just don’t want to…” His words faded, and he crossed his arms. “Look, I’m not discounting anything you’re saying. Eugene’s on the list. Wilson’s on the list.”

  “Where was he yesterday afternoon?”

  “Says he was at the campground, but nobody checked in or out during that time. He can’t seem to corroborate the story. He swears he’d never leave the place unattended.”

  “Even to take out somebody who could put him in prison? Not sure I buy that.”

  “We’ve not ruled anything out. But my money’s still on Cassidy, I could be wrong. Everybody could be wrong. Which is why”—he pushed off the back of the truck and paced a few steps away—“I pressed for charges against you.”

  “Gee, thanks. Nothing like a little prison time between friends.”

  “If you’re right, then somebody tried to kill your girlfriend.”

  “She’s not—”

  “Whatever Cassidy Leblanc is to you, you’re saying somebody shot her. Somebody wants her dead. It’s possible it was the real killer or just a vigilante who thought he’d put this town out of its misery.”

  “But Ella’s still missing. Killing the kidnapper wouldn’t bring her home.”

  “Vigilantes aren’t known for being the most logical, levelheaded sorts. The point is, you may be right, and I may be wrong. If Cassidy isn’t the killer, then you and she are his biggest threats. Cassidy has vanished… again. But you’re here. Right now, I hope, if this guy exists, he thinks we aren’t taking you seriously. I hope he believes you’ve been taken out of the equation. The charges lend credence to that idea.”

  “Credence? You get one of those word-of-the-day calendars?”

  Vince chuckled, but it died fast. “What you gotta do is lay low. Stay outta sight. Go back to your normal life.”

  Not that James had any idea what his next step was, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t going to involve hiding at home. “Anything else, boss?”

  “You swore upside-down and backwards you don’t have a way to contact your girlfriend.”

  “She’s not—”

  “If you’re lying, if you can contact her, tell her to call me. I don’t want her marching into the station. I’m willing to hear what she has to say, but I can’t guarantee her safety with the rest of the force. If you get her to contact us, it’ll go a long way toward getting these charges dropped. And it’ll help us find Ella. Will you do that?”

  “I don’t have any way to reach her. Even if I did, she won’t call you.”

  “Then you call me. If you know where she is, you call me and I’ll take it from there. I promise I won’t let anything happen to her. I just need to hear her story from her mouth. Okay?”

  “Let me just clarify here,” James said. “Are you saying you’re willing to concede that Cassidy isn’t involved in the two recent kidnappings? Or are you saying you aren’t sure she was involved in Hallie’s?”

  Vince’s smile seemed about as authentic as Ernie’s Mexican food. “I’m saying I’m willing to listen.”

  Right until he threw her in jail.

  The bail, the hand of friendship, the words of concern… James didn’t believe any of them. This was all about Vince collaring Cassidy.

  Vince was telling James to get on board or get out of the way.

  After a shower and a meal, James called Reid. Not surprisingly, his friend didn’t answer the phone. James had counted on that. If anything happened to him, though, Reid would listen to his message.

  He was counting on that too.

  “I have a theory about what happened to Ella.” For the next few minutes, he told Reid’s voice mail what he believed, including details that supported his idea. “Maybe I’m way off. But I needed you to know.” He wanted to add something mushy about how Reid was his best friend, how James would never betray that friendship, how he was doing everything in his power to bring Ella home. But he didn’t. He’d get the opportunity to say all those things to Reid’s face. He had to believe that.

  He disconnected and left his cell phone on the kitchen counter, fearing the police were tracking it. He grabbed his keys and headed for his Jeep, trying not to think the thoughts that had started bombarding him soon after Vince left. But they were there, begging for attention.

  It was a long shot, but he needed to reach Cassidy. He didn’t think she’d call him, not if she worried somebody was listening in on his phone calls. Which…they probably were. The cops could do that, right? Get a warrant to monitor him, hope he’d lead them straight to Cassidy?

  He checked his rearview mirror. Nobody was back there. Would there be a tracker on his vehicle?

  Was it possible he’d slipped from healthy fear to clinical paranoia?

  Where was the real Dr. Phil when he needed him?

  He passed Coventry High School and turned on the next street, where he parked between two older homes set on acre-plus lots. He locked his Jeep and, after checking to make sure nobody was watching, darted between the houses, through the woods, and to the fence behind the school.

  He’d been back to Coventry High many times since graduation. Town meetings, school plays, and recitals were held in the high school auditorium. He’d been to a few of the latter since Ella had taken up dance. Nothing like watching five-year-olds twirling in tutus.

  Every two years, he went to the school cafeteria to cast his votes. He’d even come to watch a few baseball games over the years.

  But he hadn’t been to the football field behind the school since graduation.

  Though the forest was thicker than it had been a decade earlier, he had no trouble finding the tree, the knothole. The first time he’d seen it, he’d been on the other side, having jogged across the field when he saw Cassidy at the fence. He thought about the sadness he’d observed in her expression back then. He hadn’t known much about foster care but worried about her treatment in a house filled with other foster kids. Everybody knew the story of Cassidy’s mother. At school, Cassidy’d been teased to her face, gossiped about behind her back, and bullied more than once. James, Reid, and Denise had put an end to the bullying, at least. But seeing her at the fence that day, staring across the empty football field toward the baseball diamond, he’d worried.

  Her tears had been evident in the streak of black makeup down her cheeks. Nothing serious had happened, and she didn’t explain, only said she’d been thinking about her sister.

  At the time, he’d suspected there was more to it. How could the grief have held on so long? Her sister’d been gone for years.

  Now, he understood how grief could hit you like that. Time didn’t fix it. Nothing fixed it.

  Or James had been looking in the wrong places for freedom fr
om his grief. Maybe, if he hadn’t turned his back on God, he’d have found peace long before.

  James found the old knothole. It was over his head an inch or two, so, fearing he’d be as likely to get bitten as to find anything, he reached inside and felt around.

  And pulled out a folded piece of paper with nothing written on it but a phone number.

  He jogged back to his Jeep, again looking around to see if anybody was watching.

  He hit the state highway and drove all the way to the interstate, then drove south to Plymouth. Paranoia in action again, but if they tapped his phone, they could tap local payphones, right?

  He had no idea how those things worked.

  After peering at gas stations and grocery stores and finding no payphones, he finally gave up and bought a no-contract phone in a Rite Aid, got it going, and dialed the number.

  It rang twice before it connected. The person on the other end said nothing.

  “It’s me,” he said.

  He heard an exhale, then, “You found it.”

  Obviously, but he didn’t say that. “Smart place to leave it.”

  “Smart place to look for it.”

  Before that week, he’d gone a decade without hearing her voice. He’d told himself over and over he didn’t miss her, didn’t ever want to see her again. What a liar he’d been.

  “You’re okay?” he asked.

  “Still alive. Still not in custody.”

  Her voice sounded strong enough. “I guess that’s all we can ask right now. Can I come get you?”

  “I’m worried someone’s following you.”

  He glanced around the parking lot. Didn’t see anybody suspicious, not that he would. “What do you want to do?”

  “We’ll meet. I’ll drive. I found something that I think belonged to Ella. Right before the gunshot.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just a little hair tie, but it proves she was there. You have a plan?”

  Not a plan, but an idea. An idea that, if he was right, could lead them to Ella. He warred between the desire to save Ella and the desire to protect Cassidy. Unfortunately, to do the first, he might not be able to do the second.

  But Ella was five years old. And Reid… Reid needed his daughter home.

  Father, lead us. Forgive me for… for all of it. I need You now. We need You now.

  No flash of light. No writing on the wall or windshield. But James felt a sense of peace that defied the situation.

  “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “Where are you?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Cassidy waited at the end of the narrow dirt road. Finally, James’s Jeep bounced up and turned into the woods, where he’d parked the last time they’d been here. She drove down to meet him, and, after he laid a rifle across the backseat and tossed a small backpack in behind it, he opened her door.

  “You planning an assassination?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “If I find the guy who killed my sister…”

  She squeezed her eyes closed, let the words roll over her. One thing at a time.

  James took her hand and tugged. “Can you get out, just for a second?”

  When she did, he swept her into his arms and held her tight. “Thank God you’re here. Thank God you’re all right.”

  Oh. She savored the feel of him. He’d supported her the day before, gotten her safely off the mountain, tended her wounds. But not like this. Not like… like he cared. Like he felt something for her. Even if it was just friendship.

  She couldn’t speak for the lump in her throat.

  He leaned back enough to study her face, then turned her head to look at the wound. “How does it feel?”

  “Tylenol helps.”

  He probed it with his fingertips, and she winced at the pain.

  “Sorry. Just… It’s an ugly wound. You probably need to keep it covered.”

  “Band-Aids don’t exactly adhere to my hair. I suppose I could shave my head.”

  She’d expected a smile, but his expression was solemn. “It doesn’t look infected. I brought some antiseptic wipes.” He dug into his backpack and came out with a little square package, which he ripped open.

  The sting had her yanking away.

  “Hold still.”

  Easy for him to say. But he finished quickly and dug into the backpack again. “I found this at the pharmacy.” He held out a red-and-white bandana. “I thought you could wrap it around your head to keep dirt out of the wound.”

  She took the square cloth, tamping down the vanity that had her wanting to refuse. She wasn’t exactly the bandana type. She was touched he’d bought it for her, touched he’d thought of her. She folded the cloth, wrapped it around her head, and tied it in the back. “How do I look?” Ridiculous, she was sure.

  The quirk of his lips, the tenderness in his eyes, told her he wasn’t thinking she looked ridiculous.

  After a moment, he cleared his throat and looked away. “Let’s clean it often. Anything else hurt? Between the tumble down the mountain Wednesday and being grazed by a bullet yesterday, you must be in pain.”

  “Nothing serious. I bumped my head after the bullet… maybe got a concussion, which explains how out of it I felt coming down the mountain.”

  “Show me.”

  She touched the spot, and he looked. “Pretty big bump.” Gently, he kissed it, then pulled her close again. “When I heard that gunshot…”

  Tucked against his chest, she felt his quickening heartbeat beneath her ear.

  “And then I worried you’d disappear again.” He backed away and laid his hands on her face. His gaze, filled with sincerity, with affection, met hers. “You didn’t murder my sister. I knew it. Deep down, I always knew it. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

  Those were the words she’d longed to hear for a decade. That James understood. That he believed in her, despite everything.

  The truth churned in her stomach. She had to tell him. For them to have any real future, she had to tell him everything. If that ended whatever was brewing between them…?

  Then she’d deal with it. She wouldn’t have a lie between them. She couldn’t. James deserved to know.

  He brushed her hair back from her face, tenderly avoiding her wound, and bent his head. He kissed her forehead. The corner of her eye. Her cheek.

  Finally, his lips met hers.

  She opened up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. This, this is what she’d wanted. This is what she’d spent a decade longing for.

  Everything else faded until all she felt, all she experienced, was James. The boy she’d known ten years earlier faded. The man he was now, with the whiskers, the past she knew little about, even the haunted eyes… All of it. She loved all of it.

  All of him.

  How could those feelings not have faded, disappeared, after so much time? They hadn’t. Now, the years slipped away. Her current life in Seattle slipped away. All that mattered was James. This man who cared for her. And, if that changed after she told him the truth, all the more reason to savor the moment.

  Too soon, he angled away, then hugged her. His heartbeat was racing. So was hers.

  It was absurd, this moment. A child’s life was on the line, and they’d paused for a kiss. Except… except love was never absurd.

  “I’ve been fighting that since the moment you stumbled into my backyard Monday.”

  “I thought you hated me.”

  “God knows I tried.” He rubbed her back. “But I never let go of the hope that everybody was wrong.”

  She pushed away from his chest. “We need to—”

  “I know. I know.” He stepped away. “Ella is still out there.”

  She leaned against the car, worked to shift mental gears. “But where? The kidnapper knows we found his hideout. Surely he’s long gone by now.” She tapped the back window where he’d stowed his stuff. “You seem to have a plan.”

  “Come on.” James rounded the car and climbed in the passenger
seat.

  She settled in beside him. “Catch me up. It was a cop at the door, right?”

  “Yeah. Did you recognize his voice?”

  “Why would I have?”

  “Vince was new to the force when we were in high school. He was the guy who gave the Don’t do drugs talks. Whenever there was a problem, he was there. I just thought…”

  She was shaking her head. “I vaguely remember who you’re talking about. I paid even less attention in those stupid assemblies than I did in class. I doubt I could pick him out of a lineup. And anyway, the door muffled his voice.”

  James told her what happened after she climbed from his window. That he’d been questioned. Arrested. Arraigned, because of her.

  She buried her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”

  Gently, he urged her hands down. “I could’ve turned you in. I could’ve sent you away. I didn’t do those things, and not for your sake. I did them because I wanted to find Ella.”

  “But we didn’t. And you’re saying the police searched the cave and the surrounding area and found no sign of her.” She dug her hand in her pocket and came out with the hair tie. “I found this and stuck it in my pocket right before I was shot. I remembered this morning.”

  James took it from her. “It looks like something she’d wear. She was there.”

  “She’d definitely been there, but now she’s gone. And we have no way of knowing where. Eugene was the one who stole our food?”

  “I never got confirmation of that.”

  “Do you think he shot at us? Or the father—”

  “Wilson.”

  “Yeah. Maybe… maybe he did it, and Eugene told him we were up there, and he went up the next day.”

  James was nodding. “Or, if Eugene didn’t do it, what if Wilson thinks he did? What if he’s trying to protect his son.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Except they reported having seen you. Why do that if they planned to kill you? Eugene was at the police station yesterday around noon. He’d have to have left there, driven up the mountain, hiked to the cave, and been there to shoot at us. I think it was around one, right?”