Hidden Secrets

by Jannine Gallant

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Quentin hurried down the sidewalk after leaving his meeting with Gatti. He and his attorney had planned out a solid defense, but the man had assured him the chances of his case actually making it to court were slim. Things were looking brighter, both for getting the bogus charges against him dropped and for his relationship with Paige. Still, worry nagged at him as he headed toward her store. Something in her tone when they’d talked on the phone had made him think she wasn’t exactly lying, but possibly evading the truth. He wondered what the hell she’d neglected to tell him.

  A Jeep slowed beside him and pulled to the curb. Quentin met Ryan’s gaze when he leaned over and rolled down the passenger side window.

  His anxiety ramped up a notch. “You’re supposed to be with Paige.”

  “My mom slipped on her front steps and banged her head earlier today. Paige told me she would ask someone else to go out to the Stillwater farm with her. Can you pass along the news that my mom is fine?”

  “I’m pretty sure she didn’t call anyone. I don’t have my car. Can you—” Quentin held up his hand as he jerked his cell from his pocket and dialed. After several rings, Paige’s recorded message clicked on, and he waited impatiently for the beep. “Paige, call me. Now, damn it. Pull over if you’re driving in this fog.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Hopefully nothing, but she lied about you being with her, and now she isn’t answering her phone.”

  “Get in. We’ll go find her. Better to be safe, right?”

  With a nod, Quentin pulled open the door and slid onto the seat. “I’m sure she’s fine, but I’d rather make sure.”

  “I get it. Believe me. The Stillwater farm is north of town, right?”

  “Yes. I think it’s about a forty-minute drive.” He tried to calm his jumping nerves. “Thanks, I appreciate this. I also appreciate you jumping onboard to hire Gatti. The man knows his business.”

  “You’d do the same for me. I’m happy to help.” They drove in silence as Ryan navigated through the thick fog. Every now and then, they passed an oncoming vehicle, but none of them were Paige’s van. As the minutes ticked by, the knots in Quentin’s stomach tightened. He tried her phone again, but this time it went straight to voice mail. He left another message and hung up.

  “We should have passed her by now based on when she said she’d be back at her shop.”

  Ryan glanced over at him before returning his attention to the short strip of pavement visible in the headlight beams. “Maybe she was delayed leaving the farm or is simply driving really slow. This fog is awful. I wouldn’t expect her to answer her cell if she’s on the road.”

  “I guess not.”

  Another five minutes passed. Quentin pressed his foot against the floorboard, trying to urge more speed out of the vehicle.

  “Dude, I can’t see shit. If I drive any faster, I’m afraid we’ll wind up in a ditch.”

  “Sorry. It’s just . . .” He broke off as headlight beams approached. As the car drew closer, the distinctive L emblem on the front of the blue luxury vehicle was just visible through the fog. Following close behind the Lexus was a van.

  “There’s Paige. Thank God. Can we—” Quentin leaned forward, practically pressing his nose against the windshield, and swore.

  “Are you sure it was her van? I’m almost positive a man was driving, although I didn’t get a good look at him.”

  “It was her van. Turn around, for God’s sake.”

  “I will. Damn it!” Ryan slowed as a big rig rumbled by. “Hold on and pray no one is coming.”

  He made a U-turn, the Jeep’s tires crunching on the gravel at the edge of the road.

  “Shit. There’s no way we can pass that truck, is there?” Quentin asked, as Ryan accelerated and fell in behind the semi.

  “Not unless you have a death wish. I can’t even see the road ahead, let alone oncoming cars. Killing ourselves isn’t going to help Paige.”

  Quentin’s hand shook as he reached for his phone and scrolled through his contacts.

  “Are you calling nine-one-one?”

  “It would take too long to explain, and they probably wouldn’t consider this an emergency. I’m calling Chris Long directly, if I can find the number . . . there it is.” He tapped the number and put the call on speaker, hoping to hell the cop would answer his cell.

  “Long here.”

  “It’s Quentin Radcliff. Paige went out to the Stillwater farm earlier and—”

  “I talked to her.”

  Quentin gripped the armrest. “When was that?”

  “Probably an hour ago.”

  “Damn it! I’d hoped—”

  “What’s wrong?” The officer’s tone was sharp.

  “I just passed her van, headed back toward town, but she wasn’t driving, and she isn’t answering her cell. Paige thinks one of Zeb Stillwater’s grandsons might have kidnapped Clea and Blaze. I have a feeling she’s right.”

  “Where are you? Do you have her van in sight?”

  “We’re probably twenty minutes from town, but there’s a semi between us and her van. It drove past before we could turn around, so the asshole driving her van could be pulling away from us. He was following a Lexus.”

  “A blue one?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Jonas Stillwater owns a blue Lexus.”

  “Fuckin’ A! God damn it!”

  “I’ll head out now and call for backup. I’ll also see about getting a unit out to the farm to see what they find. Unless those boys turn off the highway, we should be able to pull them over before they get into town. Are you driving your Jag?”

  “No, I’m with Ryan Alexander in his Jeep.”

  “If I don’t see the van before I pass you—”

  “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  When Chris disconnected, Quentin closed his eyes. “Justin must be driving the van if his brother is in the car.”

  “The police will stop them.” Ryan spoke with quiet confidence. “There aren’t a lot of places he could turn off the road between here and Siren Cove.”

  “God, I hope so.”

  Quentin’s chest ached, and it was all he could do not to swear at the trucker in front of them when he downshifted with a muffled roar to take a corner at a crawl. A couple of cars passed heading north. Each time he gripped the armrest a little tighter. When red and blue lights flashed ahead through the fog, he let out a shaky breath.

  Ryan took his foot off the gas. “Maybe the police stopped them.”

  Quentin didn’t answer. Moments later, a patrol car pulled even with the Jeep. Chris Long leaned out the open window and gestured at them to turn around.

  “Doesn’t look like he spotted the van.”

  “I’m afraid not, but the good news is the fog seems to be lifting slightly.” Ryan found a wide spot and made another U-turn, then stopped behind the cruiser parked on the side of the road.

  A door slammed, gravel crunched, and Chris ducked to look in at them when Ryan rolled down his window. “I figured you were behind that truck. It was the first one I saw.”

  “No sign of the van ahead of it?” Quentin forced an even tone.

  “I’m afraid not. They must have turned off somewhere along this stretch. Did you see headlights veer away from the road?”

  Ryan shook his head. “No, but with the fog . . .”

  “You can’t see more than about twenty yards, if that, although it’s not quite as thick as it was a few minutes ago.” Chris backed up a step. “We’ll check every possible side road for the last ten miles. Most of them lead to isolated homes or parking areas above the beach. I have an APB out on Paige’s van, so highway patrol will spot them if they get back on the road.”

  “What about the backup you called for?” Quentin asked.

  “Too damn many accidents. No one is available right now, and I didn’t want to waste time.”

  “Finally, we agree on so
mething.” Quentin eyed the man steadily. “Splitting up seems smart. We can cover twice as much territory.”

  After a moment, Chris nodded. “Only on the condition you stay back and call me if you spot Paige’s vehicle. Those two may be armed, and they’re certainly dangerous. Do I have your word?”

  “We don’t want to jeopardize Paige’s safety,” Ryan answered. “We won’t do anything stupid.”

  “Fine, I’ll take the first road. You take the second, and so forth. Stay in contact.”

  As the cop walked away, Ryan reached over and gripped his shoulder. “We’ll find her.”

  Words stuck in Quentin’s throat, and he could only jerk his head in agreement. They’d find her, and when they did, he had no intention of keeping his distance. His only goal was to make sure the woman he loved was safe . . . and make the son-of-a-bitch who’d taken her pay.

  * * *

  Paige sat on the damp sand, her arms bound around a boulder at the base of the cliff. A short distance away, waves crashed against the beach. Blaze faced her, tied to a giant chunk of driftwood, her eyes wide with terror in her pale face. The tide was coming in.

  “We’re screwed. The police will find their bodies at some point, and as Paige pointed out, plenty of people knew she was out at the farm.” Justin practically had to shout to be heard over the rush of water surging ever closer to the cliffs.

  “No one will be able to prove she didn’t leave the farm of her own free will. Radcliff is out on bail. Maybe the police are stupid enough to believe he dumped the women here. A love-triangle gone wrong.” Jonas jerked on the ropes binding her wrists, checking to make sure they were tight around the rock.

  The damp cordage dug into her skin, and Paige couldn’t hold back a whimper. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Not the way I’d like to.”

  His cool tone sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the biting wind that was finally blowing the fog inland.

  “You won’t get away with this. You’d be far better off letting us go.”

  “I think I’ll take my chances. I’m amazingly adept at avoiding trouble.” He stepped over her legs and paused beside his brother. “I’ll go wipe down the van to get rid of any prints since you were stupid enough not to wear gloves. Keep an eye on them until the tide does its job, and then we can get the hell out of here.”

  “Sorry if I’m not as experienced as you are when it comes to . . .” His voice cracked as he shouted, “Fuck you, Jonas. I never wanted this to happen.”

  “You’re the one who grabbed the redhead. How did you think that would turn out?” Before his brother could answer, Jonas headed up the steep path leading to the top of the cliff.

  “You don’t have to do this. You can untie us right now.” Paige tugged at her ropes. They didn’t budge.

  “Family first. He’s my twin.”

  “He’s sick. He needs help. You haven’t done anything wrong, but if you kill us, you’ll spend your life in jail.”

  “Oh, I’ve done plenty I regret.” Justin brushed wind-whipped hair that had pulled loose from his ponytail out of his eyes. “I’ve covered up my brother’s crimes for years. I kept hoping he would—”

  “That he’d stop? He won’t.” Paige met his gaze and held it, trying her best to appeal to some shred of decency in the man. “Not unless you take a stand.”

  “That one isn’t as innocent as he pretends. He kidnapped me and locked me in the shed. I recognize his voice.” Blaze kicked sand in his direction. “Asshole. This is all your fault.”

  “The cops were asking questions. I’ll admit I panicked. I was trying to shift their attention, and it worked. They arrested Radcliff. I planned to let you loose just as soon as I found that churn dasher.” He turned away from Blaze to face Paige as the words spilled out. “If you hadn’t bought the damn thing from Grandpa and then found Lucy’s skull, nothing from the past would have been dredged up. I was afraid the cops would question the wrong person and figure out Jonas dated her that summer.”

  “What the hell is he talking about?” Blaze shouted.

  “Paige knows. Blame her if you want to throw stones.”

  “Was Lucy the first one?” The salt air stung her eyes. “Did Jonas kill Clea?”

  “Yeah, Lucy was the first, and Clea was the last.”

  “She could be if you untie us, Justin. You’re not a bad person. You’re loyal to your brother. I get that.”

  “Even though he’s a freak and a murderer!” Blaze let out a cry as a rogue wave soaked her legs.

  “There were traces of blood on the dasher. I turned it over to the police, so it’s only a matter of time before they test it for DNA. The butter churn was in your grandpa’s barn. Jonas isn’t going to be able to weasel his way out of this. Even if you let us die, he’s going to prison. You both will. They’ll be able to prove he killed Lucy and her baby.”

  “Baby? What baby?” Justin frowned, his brows drawing together over worried eyes. “There was no baby.”

  “Lucy was pregnant. Didn’t you know? Your brother wanted her to have an abortion, and she wouldn’t. That’s why he killed her.”

  “He said it was an accident. He didn’t mean to hurt her.” Justin’s face crumpled. “But I could see in his eyes that he liked it. He couldn’t let go of the rush, so a few years later he did it again.”

  “And you helped him cover up his crime. You have to stop him, Justin,” Paige pleaded. “Don’t you see, this has to end.”

  “Damn, brother, have you been shooting off your mouth?” Jonas reached the bottom of the trail, a scowl flattening his lips.

  Paige hadn’t heard his approach. She’d been so focused on trying to change his brother’s mind, she’d been oblivious to the real danger. When Jonas narrowed his blue eyes against the punishing wind, her skin crawled. This man had no compassion. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.

  Justin sidestepped the oncoming tide. “She says the police have evidence. Maybe we should—”

  “Maybe you should stop listening to a lying bitch whose only goal is to work you.”

  “You don’t believe her?”

  “Hell, no.” Jonas turned his attention toward the waves washing up on shore, the line of wet sand stretching closer with each surge. “It won’t be long now. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

  Blaze let out a shriek as water drenched them both before sucking back out to sea.

  “Are we just going to stand here and watch them drown? I don’t think I have the stomach for it.”

  Jonas rolled his eyes. “I guess we can take off since your nagging is a complete downer. How we came out of the same womb, I’ll never know.”

  “You can’t leave us here!” Blaze shouted, her teeth chattering. “You can’t.”

  “I’m not in the mood to listen to her whining, anyway. Let’s go.” Jonas turned and headed back up the trail.

  “No! No!” Blaze screamed.

  Paige wrenched against the rope holding her arms in place. If she could inch them upward even a little . . . The rope caught on a rough protrusion and refused to budge.

  “I’m sorry. Honestly, I am. I’ll insist he gets the help he needs. I’ll—”

  “Then save us, Justin. Do the right thing.”

  “I can’t.” The words seemed to be wrenched from deep within him before he turned away and hurried after his brother.

  “Now what? Are we going to just sit here and drown without doing anything?” Blaze sobbed. “I’ve been trying to twist my hands loose, but the damn rope seems to get tighter the more I pull on it.”

  “Maybe I can cut myself loose.” Paige sawed back and forth against the jutting edge of the rock holding the thick cord in place. “If I could see what I’m doing, it would help.”

  Blaze turned her face to wipe her tears on her shoulder. “It looks like the rope is fraying a little. Can you rub faster?”

  “I can barely move my hands. They’re going numb.” Paige gritted her teeth as a wave submerged her waist-deep in wate
r.

  “Oh, my God, you have to try harder!” Blaze shouted.

  Staring at the Sirens far out in the cove, Paige concentrated on keeping the rope in the exact same spot as she rubbed back and forth. The sharp rock gouged her wrist, and warm wetness streamed down her arm. She didn’t stop. Wouldn’t give up.

  Quentin. She loved him so much.

  “Hurry, Paige. Hurry. If I die because—”

  “What was that?” She craned her neck to see up the face of the cliff. “I thought I heard a thump.”

  “Maybe they’re coming back.”

  “I don’t know why they would.” The next wave sent water surging up to her chest, and her wrists slipped away from the protrusion when the tide dragged against her. “It might not be them. Start screaming while I work on the rope.”

  “If they come back—”

  “Just scream, damn it!” Paige raised her voice and yelled, “Help! Help us! Help!”

  A wave smacked her in the face, and she gagged on a mouthful of water. Choking and coughing, she shouted with all her might while she sawed the rope against the rock.

  Blaze screamed and kept screaming until the next wave hit.

  Holding her breath, Paige waited until the water receded. Her ears rang, and her hands had gone completely numb. Her hair clung to her face like seaweed, blocking her vision.

  “Paige! Paige!”

  Was she imagining the voice? She gasped for air and held her breath as another wave hit. She smacked her face against the rock and struggled to fight against encroaching blackness.

  “She’s tied to the rock.” Hands cupped her face. “Hang on, Paige.”

  Quentin. In her dream, Quentin held her while she drifted, floating . . .

  Another voice echoed from far away. “Take my pocket knife. I’ve freed the other woman.”

  “Hold your breath.” Quentin spoke urgently against her ear.

  Instinctively, she did as he asked. When the wave receded, her arms broke loose and floated at her sides.

  “I have you. Hold on. Paige!” He gave her a hard shake. “Hold on to me.”

  She blinked and coughed and clung to Quentin as the world around her swirled back into focus. He clambered up the rocks to higher ground, never easing his grip on her. Finally, he stopped and leaned against the cliff.