by Lisa Harris
“Her mom and Frankie won’t hurt her, right?” Eric suggested.
Will said, “We don’t know that.”
Even Conroy didn’t look convinced she would be all right. “There’s a BOLO out on all three of them, plus the vehicle—thanks to your description.” He twisted to look over his shoulder before the end of his statement and lifted his hand in a greeting. “Mr. Athens.”
Will followed Conroy and Eric to the back of the ambulance where Athens was being bandaged. He didn’t have the look of someone wanting to field anymore questions. He just wanted to know where Hollis was.
And then he asked, “Why did you shoot me?”
“I was trying to stop them. You stepped in front of me.”
Conroy said, “How’s the shoulder?”
Athens did look pretty pale. He also looked irritated. “We should be going to the hospital.”
“Not so fast.” Will didn’t care if the man was frustrated. Both of them had been shot, but Will didn’t have to answer for anything. He was here doing his job. Which meant taking down Sharleen. “She said that this was your fault. What did she mean by that?”
Will had blurted out his stupid, off-the-cuff question, asking if Athens was Hollis’s father. Now that he’d thought about it, there was a serious resemblance between the two of them. Was it true?
Athens shook his head. “That woman is crazy. Always has been. Into one scheme, or another, no rhyme or reason to it. That’s why I told Frankie I wouldn’t lease the diner to him if Sharleen was involved.”
“So, you were behind him employing Hollis. Making her a huge part of the business.” Will figured he wouldn’t have an issue saying anything against Sharleen, whether or not it was true. Considering what she’d done, nothing would sound outlandish at this point.
There were plenty of witnesses, and Will had seen her shoot Athens. Right before Athens clipped him.
She might have a grudge, but he’d have to agree under oath that she came across as seriously unstable.
“I guess.” Athens said, “What does Hollis’s employment have to do with Sharleen?”
Will shrugged. “Might not. I was just curious.”
“I’m not her father.”
“Okay.” My bad. Only, he thought for sure there was more to it than one simple statement, a denial of his involvement. “Why would Sharleen tell you this is all your fault?”
If it was true that Athens had no dealings with her, how was he involved, then? The idea he could be West floated through Will’s head. Right now, he didn’t care who West was. All he cared about was where to find Hollis, preferably fast enough she would be unhurt—physically and emotionally—when he got there.
Conroy filled the silence while Athens tried to figure out what to say. The chief commented, “You should know, I have a witness who listed you as a person Sharleen and Frankie might come to if they were on the run. Now I’m thinking it might have been more like a hit list, rather than a list of people who might hide them if they wanted to lay low.”
“I wouldn’t help them,” Athens said. “And that was before she shot me.”
Will shrugged. “Why would she try to kill you? What do you know, or what did you do, that means Sharleen came gunning for you?”
“She’s crazy. I believe I said that already.” The restaurant owner frowned. His attention dropped to Will’s neck, and he figured that meant the makeup that kept the spider web tattoo on his neck covered up was coming off.
He’d figured as much, given everything that’d happened. Will used the tattoo as part of his undercover persona. For polite company, he covered it up. Had Hollis seen it? He wondered what she thought of it. But he had to get her back first, if he ever hoped to ask her.
“She’s not just crazy, right?” Will said, “She has reasons.”
Eric jumped into the questioning, “What do you know about those reasons that might give us a clue into her state of mind?”
Athens swallowed as though there was a bad taste in his mouth. “Frankie and Sharleen think they run this town. They’ve got a finger on everything that goes down.”
“They’re that connected?” Conroy asked.
“I thought you were investigating West,” Athens said. “Seems to me like you should’ve heard their names in those same conversations before now.”
“I’m beginning to believe West is just a ghost.” Will said, “Made up, a distraction so we all chase our tails and wind up coming up with absolutely nothing.” He shrugged, lifting his chin. “West is just a name all the criminals in this town hide behind because they think we’re too stupid to figure out he, or she, is no one. Or everyone.”
For just a split second, Athens’s face flashed with surprise, before a bland look of boredom washed over his face. “How should I know? I’m a restaurant owner. That’s all.”
“Mmm.” Will nodded. “Sure. Only, I’m thinking one of those guys back there, unconscious on the floor? He works for you. And I’m also thinking you’re the one who sent two guys to burn down the diner.”
“Why would I burn down a building I own?”
Eric said, “Insurance scam.”
“I don’t need the money.”
“That’s good,” Conroy said. “Because you’re unlikely to get any after the fire marshal concludes his investigation and figures out it was a job by men you hired.”
The chief’s phone rang. He stepped away to answer it.
Will didn’t move his attention from Athens.
The EMT said, “We’re heading out now. So wrap up your questions, guys.”
Athens shut his eyes. “I’m done answering already.”
“Yeah. No.” Eric said, “You’re up to your neck in this, and we’re going to prove it.”
“When you come back with a warrant.” Athens pulled out his wallet and handed over a business card. “Then feel free to contact my lawyer. Until then, I have nothing to say.”
They backed up, and the EMT shut the doors.
“This case is turning into a giant mess.”
Will didn’t respond. He turned away and headed toward Conroy so he could get the latest intel. From the look on the chief’s face, it wasn’t good.
Eric spoke again. “What’s the word?”
The chief hung up. “A woman’s body was found on the side of the road. She’s been shot in the face.”
Will said, “Get us the address.”
Ten minutes later, they were speeding to the scene. Will directed his FBI handler, while Eric drove with the gas pedal all the way to the floor.
“You doing okay?”
Will glanced over. “She’s not dead. It’s either someone else, or it’s her mom.”
“You think?”
“More like I refuse to believe anything else.”
“You thought she was West at first.” Eric said, “Now you don’t even think West is a person?”
“Makes more sense to create a fictitious persona that has the cops all scrambling.”
“You’re right. It does.”
“The head of a criminal enterprise? I’m not thinking that’s Sharleen.” Will said, “She doesn’t have the focus.”
“Athens?”
“He was entirely too comfortable. As though he has layers of protection, ways he’s covered himself over the years. To the extent that he now considers himself untouchable.”
“No one is beyond the reach of the law,” Eric said. “Though plenty try to be.”
“You think he’ll run?”
“Maybe. Pretty big clue he has something to hide if he does.” Eric shrugged one shoulder. “As opposed to staying here and gambling on whatever protections he has in place. So, you tell me—in all your undercover work in this town, you ever hear the name Athens?”
“It’s all West this, and West that. Liam Athens is a respected businessman, sure. Is he behind all this? Living large and raking in the cash with intimidation and illegal activity?” Will paused. “He’s got thugs at his restaurant and probably hired the
ones who burned down the diner. I want a list of his assets so I can take a look at what else he also owns around town. And I want to talk to people who’ve done business with him. Like Hollis, and Frankie. They know him better than I do.”
“Okay. That’s somewhere to start.” Eric pulled over behind a cop car.
Will didn’t unbuckle his seatbelt.
“You want me to go look?”
He shook his head and shoved the door open, got out and strode to the officer. “Got an ID?”
“Female. Brown leather jacket.”
Will tried to breath around the lump in his throat.
“Can’t determine the age, but she has dark brown hair.”
“I need to look.”
The cop stretched out his arm, indicating for Will to go ahead. “You really undercover FBI?”
Will nodded.
“Must be some case.”
He ignored the rest of what the man had to say and went to look at the body. He realized immediately it wasn’t Hollis and glanced back at Eric. “It’s Sharleen.”
“You think Hollis killed her?”
“Not with a shot to the face.”
“Frankie, then?”
Will stood. He shrugged, more to himself than anyone else. Whoever ran the crime in this town, he didn’t much care. Someone else—like Conroy and his cops—could figure that out. They could clean up Last Chance.
He only wanted to get Hollis back.
More than solving the case. More than getting out of Last Chance. His life wouldn’t mean a thing if he didn’t save her life, after everything he’d done to put her in jeopardy.
Hollis was the only one he cared about.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“You shot her.” Hollis clutched her broken arm to her front, fingers to her lips. In the front passenger seat, blood coated the inside of the windshield and the side window, which now had a huge crack in it.
Frankie grunted, turned a corner onto Hamilton Street, and pressed the gas pedal down again.
“You killed her. Why’d you do that?”
“Shut up, Hollis.”
She pressed her lips together, a hiccup in her breath every time she tried to inhale. “You just threw her out like a piece of garbage.” After watching her mom get her head blown off, Hollis had then watched her stepfather reach over to open the door and shove her body out of the car. Dead. Lying on the side of the road.
“Where are we going?” Anger wouldn’t let her go. The burning rage in her gut made her want to reach over and just…what? Grasp him. Dig her nails in him. She didn’t want to be a cliché but scratching his eyes out also wasn’t a bad idea.
In fact, it sounded like a very good idea.
“Just let me out of the car.” She didn’t want to be in the backseat any longer. She had to get out of there. She could barely breathe. The blood. Hollis gasped. She could smell it. Even taste it, that rusty tang at the back of her throat. She wanted to vomit.
“Shut. Up.” He drove with one hand on the wheel, one still holding the gun. The murder weapon.
“Let me out.” He had to let her go. But he wouldn’t, would he? After all, she was a witness to his crime. Frankie was going to kill her.
But then, why didn’t he do it already?
She said, “What do you want with me? Why are you doing this? Why don’t you just let me go?” Her voice got louder and higher. Until the sound of it hurt even her ears.
Frankie swung back with his arm. The back of his hand and the butt of the gun slammed into her forehead before she could get out of the way.
Hollis slumped against the back of the seat, fingers now pressed to her forehead, while pain screamed through her head and arm. Tears rolled down her face. He might not be dead, but I will be. She didn’t want to believe Will was dead, even though she’d seen him fall. She’d rather trust Whoever was up in heaven, sovereign over everything, that he was all right. Too bad they’d never get to see each other again, since she would be dead before he caught up to her.
If he was even looking.
Her stepfather drove another half an hour, making a wide circuit around town. Using winding roads. They ended up at a gas station that was a rest stop for truckers, where he pulled up to a pump and used that window cleaner swipe thing to clean the blood off. Even afterwards, Hollis could still see it.
Frankie moved to the pump and started to fill the car. She watched him move, only a slight hitch to his gait.
The crutches he normally used lay on the floor by her feet.
Ones he normally couldn’t move anywhere without.
She needed to get out of here. Hollis leaned forward to look in the ignition. No keys. She yanked on the door handle, but on the left side. Opposite from him. Will he shoot me, too? She figured the question wasn’t if, but when.
Hollis hit the unlock button and stumbled climbing out. She bit back her grunt of pain and got to her feet, then just ran.
“Hey!”
She didn’t look back, just raced away. Toward the rows of semi-trucks all parked while their drivers ate a late breakfast and drank several cups of over-sugared coffee. Beyond the trucks was an acre of brown grass where dogs were supposed to do their business.
“Hollis! Stop!”
She didn’t. Just kept pumping her arms and legs, pushing pushing through the horrendous pain, and ran as fast as she could with tears rolling down her face, and dripping from her nose. Looking as haggard as she felt.
He was keeping up with her. Probably even gaining on her. But he didn’t shoot her as she tried to run away.
Which meant he didn’t want to—or couldn’t—kill her. Yet.
She rounded the front of a truck and glanced back. He ran like there was almost nothing wrong with his legs. Not the permanently injured man she’d been taking care of for years, and covering for at work. A man who’d needed a wheelchair at the end of an especially long day. Who couldn’t walk without the assistance of crutches. And now he was running after her.
Spinning around towards him over the hood of a semi, she screamed, “You lied to me!” And then she twisted back around to keep running—
—And slammed right into a solid man’s full belly.
“Whoa, little lady.”
Before he could grab her, which, by the way he was moving, was where his hands were headed, Hollis darted around him. Quicker than she’d ever thought she could move.
“You guys got some problem, that’s your business…” The trucker guy’s final word dissipated like smoke. “Why you got a gun, man?”
Frankie stood at the end of the front of the truck.
Hollis started to back up, not wanting to leave this guy at the mercy of her stepfather. But what choice did she have? “He killed my mother.”
The trucker guy glanced half back over his shoulder, not taking his attention from her stepfather. “I don’t want in the middle of your business. I just didn’t want my truck to get scratched.” He took half a step toward his driver’s door and reached up for the handle.
Frankie fired a shot at her, over his shoulder. It slammed, instead, into the semi on her other side. Hollis screamed. She wanted to slap her hands over her ears, but could only curl into herself and try to be as small as possible. That only made her think of her mother’s words about how huge she was, and how it was so obviously a personal failing.
But it wasn’t what was going to get her killed.
That was on her mom.
I saved you from him. Sharleen had been so adamant about saving them all from Athens, she’d neglected to see the threat beside her. An angry man who was now intent on cleaning up loose ends. A man who hadn’t realized Sharleen had been working for Athens. Until today. Now Frankie wanted to kill them all.
“Just go.” She lifted her good hand, palm out. “Leave me alone. I won’t tell anyone anything. I’ll never say a single word about you, or mom.”
“You’ll be telling them you killed her.”
Because she was the scapegoat? Firs
t her mom, now Frankie. Maybe Frankie had been the evil mastermind all along, and she’d just been blinder than she even knew. Or was it that she was so determined to take care of him so she could feel like a good person, that she’d ultimately failed—or refused—to see the truth.
“I’m not going to jail for you.”
Frankie sighed. “You’ll do what I tell you, Hollis. Now let’s go.”
He strode to her. She backed up. The trucker moved. As soon as Frankie passed him, he reached for Frankie’s wrist and the gun. Two handed. More than she could do. Hollis tried to get out of the line of fire.
She had to duck, crouching low by the underside of the next semi. Could she roll under there and get away? Maybe if she had to. There were a lot of things she’d have thought she couldn’t do, and life was proving her wrong in all sorts of ways.
The gun went off.
The trucker’s body jerked and Frankie shoved him to the ground. He grabbed her elbow before she could react, and squeezed hard, his thumb stabbing into the nerve as he dragged her back across the parking lot.
Someone stepped out of the gas station store. Frankie waved his gun at the young man.
“No!” Hollis tried to shove his arm down, away from the person.
He flung the passenger door open. “Get in. Climb across, you’re driving.”
She started to argue, but he had a gun pointed at her. She really didn’t want to die. Not when she was just now realizing that she’d been caught up in exactly this for her whole life.
Okay, so not exactly. But if anybody deserved to be overly dramatic at the moment, she did.
Selfish ambition, uncaring actions, and deceit had swirled around her since birth. From both Sharleen and Frankie. Now that Sharleen was dead, and now, also, the trucker, Hollis knew it was inevitable that Frankie would come after her next.
“You don’t need me.”
“Drive.”
She turned the key and pulled out. Her foot slipped off the gas, and they coasted for a few feet.
With his gun still pointed at her, Frankie used his other hand to squeeze her arm until she cried out.
