Lifeline

by Christy Barritt

  Bradley rubbed his hands together, shifting his jaw as if in deep thought. “Could we see that video?”

  Agent Darden pulled it up with a few clicks on the computer. A man appeared on the screen wearing the same basic outfit—a baseball cap and sweatshirt. Was it Darrell? She couldn’t be sure.

  She looked more closely and clutched Bradley’s arm. “Look, do you recognize that watch?”

  “It’s a Luxor, isn’t it?” Bradley’s pressed his lips into a tight line.

  Julianne nodded. “Tommy Sanders.”

  As Bradley filled Agent Darden in on Tommy, Julianne’s cell phone beeped. She recognized the number as Becca, another counselor who worked for the hotline. Why would Becca be calling?

  She stepped away from the conversation around her and answered. “Hey, Becca. What’s going on?”

  “Julianne, I need to get right to the point. There are a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about. The first thing is about John.” Becca’s normally abrasive voice softened. “I heard you found his body.”

  Julianne shuddered as she remembered that day. “I did.”

  “The police announced today that the medical examiner’s results are in. Someone forced some kind of acid down his throat.”

  Acid? Her blood ran cold. “That’s terrible.”

  “I know. Isn’t it? I hate to think about that happening to him. To anyone, for that matter.”

  “You said there was something else you wanted to mention?”

  Becca sighed. “Yeah, this one concerns you. You know that man who keeps calling and asking specifically to speak with you?”

  “Of course. How could I forget?”

  “Well, he showed up at the office yesterday demanding to see you.”

  Julianne shivered. “What happened?”

  “He’s got some mental problems, for sure. We had to call the police to send him away. He looked crazy.”

  “Becca, what did he look like exactly?”

  “I don’t know. About six feet, sandy-blond hair, medium build.”

  Anxiety cinched her chest muscles. Just like Darrell. Had she been confused this whole time? Did she think her dead fiancé was stalking her when it was really some lunatic she’d counseled on the hotline? If so, how would he have found out so many details about Darrell?

  She shook her head, even more confused than before.

  * * *

  After they left the FBI field office, they wound through the streets of Virginia Beach, headed into Norfolk and finally pulled to a stop in front of an ordinary-looking house in an ordinary-looking neighborhood. Bradley rapped on the door and a moment later a man in a suit, introduced as Agent Thomas, ushered them inside.

  A Hispanic man sat on a couch, poised tighter than a tiger ready to spring. When Bradley and Julianne walked into the room, he remained motionless except for his eyes, which followed their every movement. The man had a rough edge to him with a scar across his cheek and an air of hostility surrounding him.

  Bradley sat across from him, and Julianne decided to stand at the wall. Interrogating people wasn’t her specialty. She’d leave that to Bradley and would instead try to be merely an observer.

  Bradley leaned forward, a calm demeanor about him. Yet beneath the easygoing persona was an unwavering firmness and strength that showed he was completely in control. “Carlos, thank you for agreeing to meet with us. We need your help.”

  “Doesn’t everybody?” Carlos scowled, his gaze flickering back to Agent Thomas.

  “Do you have any idea why the Amigos would target Julianne?” Bradley nodded in her direction.

  Carlos glanced back at Julianne again and shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “How about guesses? Do you have any of those?”

  He shrugged again, apathy staining his gaze. “No.”

  Bradley shifted and drew in a deep breath that filled his chest and made him seem even more imposing. “Does the name Darrell Lewis mean anything to you?”

  The man’s eyes sparked in recognition. Still, he shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe.”

  “What do you know about him?” Bradley’s gaze locked on to his.

  “I know Darrell bought drugs from the Amigos using counterfeit funds. I know he was on our most wanted list for a long time. Then he died.”

  Julianne inhaled sharply. Motive. That was his motive. He faked his death in order to get the cartel off his trail. But they’d found him again. How? And why had he risked showing himself again when he knew it could mean his life?

  The truth lingered at the back of her mind. As a counselor, she was well aware of what it meant for someone to have an obsessive personality disorder. Darrell’s desire to stay “dead” had been trumped by his desire to make good on his threats to Julianne. Her face went pale at the thought.

  Bradley rubbed his chin a moment. “Have you seen him recently?”

  The man tensed, his neck muscles stretching taut. “There was rumor that he was alive and in this area. He made our leader, Alexandro, very upset. No one gets one over on him. There’s revenge to pay if you try.”

  Certainly Carlos’s words were aimed at himself as much as they were Darrell. If the Amigos were to find Carlos, they’d kill him also.

  Bradley straightened, appearing ready to wrap up this meeting. “Last question, Carlos. Any idea why one of the Amigos might try to snatch Darrell’s fiancée?”

  One shoulder shrugged, and he pulled his head to the side as if squeezing something to his ear. “My guess would be for leverage. Maybe he’d come out of hiding for her.”

  Cold chills spread over her. So she was a pawn in a deadly game, it appeared. Which side would win? Agent Thomas stood. “We’re moving him to another location now. You done?”

  Bradley nodded. “I think we got everything we needed. Thanks for letting me come out.”

  “It’s the least I can do for someone who’s had my back on more than one occasion. I hope you got something out of this.”

  “I did. Thank you,” he said.

  * * *

  Some of the pieces finally began fitting together in Bradley’s mind. At least now he knew how the Amigos and Darrell were connected. Bradley would guess that Darrell got in over his head with drugs and the Amigos. He had no way out except to fake his death. But then the Amigos had found out he wasn’t dead, and all they’d wanted was revenge.

  And Julianne’s life was in danger if the Amigos wanted to use her as leverage, as Carlos had suggested.

  Julianne looked pale beside him in the car as they sat outside of the safe house. He put his hand on her neck and gently massaged her knotted muscles there. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m wondering how my life went from normal to crazy in such a short amount of time. My dead fiancé is alive, a drug cartel is terrorizing me and I’m virtually on the run. Where does this leave me?”

  “We’ll find the answers, Julianne. Just give it some time.” He shifted. “Agent Darden mentioned they might exhume Darrell’s body. I wasn’t sure how you would feel about that.”

  “I’d love to have some answers. If exhuming his body will give us some, then I’m all for it.”

  “It might take a couple of days to get through all of the red tape and to get DNA test results back. But at least we’d know.”

  She looked up at him with those eyes that always melted his heart. “Did Darrell know that when he came back into my life his appearance would lead me here to you? Because you’re just as much a target as I am.”

  “He must have realized you would find me. I would be one of the only people who’d have answers for you. I think he wanted to get me also and that’s why he sent that letter and said it was from Dawn Turner.”

  “He’s doing a good job.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “I knew he was messed up
, but I had no idea he was this messed up. He’s...a killer. And he’s involved with people who are even worse killers. This just seems surreal.”

  Bradley hated to admit it but he was beginning to wonder if Darrell was indeed alive. He’d been convinced that someone else was behind all of these incidents when Julianne first showed up. But now all the evidence seemed to be pointing to her fiancé.

  FIFTEEN

  Bradley had a critical meeting with the engineers designing his new equipment. Julianne insisted that he go and not worry about her. She promised to stay put at the Eyes headquarters, and Bradley assigned a guard to be with her, just in case.

  She stayed in her room, on the couch, enjoying some quiet time of reflection. Maybe enjoying wasn’t the right word, but it felt good for a moment to feel safe, to have a moment to say some prayers and try to sort out all of her chaotic thoughts.

  What if Darrell wasn’t alive? What if someone was bent on pulling her into the middle of things? Why would they do that? Why would they kill Darrell’s family?

  Perhaps Darrell had made someone mad—mad enough that they’d hurt his family. But why show up now and impersonate him?

  She tapped her nails on the arm of the couch, trying for the umpteenth time to make sense of things.

  Did they think that Julianne had something of Darrell’s that they wanted? She had very few of his things when he passed away. She’d had the engagement ring, which she’d flung into the river after his funeral. She had a few cards he’d sent her. She’d burned them. Other than that, she didn’t have anything of Darrell’s.

  But what if someone thought she did? What if he’d left the names of all the drug lords he’d encountered? What if he still had a stash of drugs he’d tried to sell? What if he was trying to obtain U.S. secrets for the other side?

  What had happened to all of his stuff? It had probably gone to his family. She’d lost contact with them after the funeral. She disappeared, not wanting to be in contact with them. She couldn’t mourn with them the way they needed, so she thought it was easier to just vanish from their lives. Little did she know about the nightmare they faced. Were they aware of how dangerous their son was?

  And how did Tommy Sanders fit into all of this? Was he the man pretending to be her stalker? After all, since she’d never seen the man’s face— and had only talked to him on the hotline—he could be virtually anyone. But based on Becca’s description of the man, he wasn’t Tommy.

  She rubbed her temples. All of this confusion was giving her a headache.

  Tommy Sanders was involved in all of this somehow. She wasn’t sure of the details yet, but she knew he was guilty.

  Out of curiosity, she put in a call to the firehouse where he was stationed.

  An unfamiliar voice answered. “I’m trying to reach Tommy Sanders.”

  “You’re not the only one.” The man mumbled something. “I haven’t seen him in two days.”

  “Two days?” That was when she and Bradley had stopped by.

  “That’s right. He left work early and we haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

  The feeling of dread in Julianne’s stomach deepened.

  * * *

  The next morning, Julianne filed some papers while Bradley worked in his office. He hadn’t gotten back to the Eyes headquarters until well into the evening. He’d checked in with Julianne, but he looked weary. They’d briefly updated each other before calling it a night.

  The phone on the desk rang. It was Detective Spencer.

  “Ms. Grace, we were wondering if you and Mr. Stone would come down to the station.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  Bradley appeared behind her, his radar always on target for whenever bad news might be delivered. Julianne hit the speaker button so he could hear what the detective had to say.

  “Last night, there was a house fire down the road from where Mr. Stone lives. One of the smaller rental properties. No one was supposed to be staying there, but apparently there was a squatter. Fire officials found the body after the fire was extinguished.”

  Bradley stepped closer, his eyebrows furrowed. “This is Bradley, Detective Spencer. What does this have to do with me?”

  “Mr. Stone, the face and hands of the man we found inside were burned beyond recognition. But the cell phone we found on the premises had Ms. Grace’s number programmed into it.”

  Trepidation settled between Julianne’s shoulder blades. Would this be an answer? Or would this just lead to more questions?

  “We’ll be right there,” Bradley said.

  As soon as they hung up, Julianne looked back at Bradley. “Do you think it’s Darrell?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe the detective can shine some light on it. Whoever the man was, he had some connection to you.”

  Twenty minutes later, they reached the police station and were escorted to Detective Spencer’s office. “Thanks for coming.”

  “What can you tell us, Detective?” Bradley asked.

  He raised his eyebrows in a manner that showed he had something big to share. “Have a seat first. Believe me, you’ll want to be sitting down for this.”

  They lowered themselves into the chairs across from his desk. Julianne fidgeted as she anticipated what he might say. Would this nightmare finally be over?

  Detective Spencer clasped his hands together and stared at them for a moment. “I told you about the fire. What I didn’t tell you about were these.” The detective scattered something across the table.

  Julianne gasped when she saw pictures of her and Bradley there. Her and Bradley eating at the seafood restaurant. Standing on Bradley’s deck. Walking into the police station.

  She glanced up at Bradley, unable to conceal how startled she was. “He was watching us every step of the way.”

  Bradley moved a couple more pictures out of the way. There were more photos. Pictures of her meeting with her counselor, Alan. Pictures of her walking into staff meetings with her boss. Pictures of her at church.

  A tremble started at her core and spread to her limbs. “Do you have a description of the man who died in the fire?”

  “Only the preliminary findings. Six feet tall. Probably in his early thirties. White. Male.”

  Julianne glanced at Bradley. “That fits Darrell’s description.”

  Bradley turned back to the detective, hard lines appearing at the corners of his eyes and wrinkling his forehead. “How’d the fire start?”

  “It’s not clear yet, but right now it looks like it started outside the home.”

  “What if the Amigos found Darrell and started that fire?” Julianne asked Bradley.

  “It’s a possibility,” Bradley agreed. He filled the detective in on everything they’d found out.

  “There’s something else we need to address with you, Ms. Grace.” The detective’s piercing eyes bore into hers.

  She shoved down the discomfort she felt under his stare. “What’s that?”

  He shoved a piece of paper forward. “We found this note with the pictures.”

  She looked down at the plain piece of white paper with words scribbled across it.

  Meet me at 1210 Ginger Court at 11:00 a.m. Love, Julianne.

  Her eyes widened. “I never sent this. That’s not even my handwriting.”

  The detective’s expression hardened. “I’m beginning to question your involvement in all of this, Ms. Grace.”

  She shook her head, panic beginning to rise. “I’m being set up. I never sent that note.”

  “There’s one more thing I needed to mention to you, Ms. Grace.” The detective continued to stare at her.

  Exactly where was he going with this line of questioning?

  She shifted, her breaths coming in quick spurts. “What’s that?”

/>   “We got Diane’s home computer and examined it for evidence as to what may have happened to her.”

  “Okay...”

  “We found some correspondence between Bradley’s secretary and someone with the initials D.L.”

  Julianne blinked. “Darrell? Diane was communicating with Darrell?” Sure, they’d found his phone number on her desk. But Julianne assumed that had been just another mind game Darrell was playing, that he’d called and left his number simply as a red herring.

  The detective tilted his head in a no-nonsense manner. “The emails mentioned that you were coming down here and getting some information.”

  “I came here spontaneously. There’s no way she could have known I was coming. That’s simply impossible.” Julianne shook her head so hard she felt as if the room were shaking. She didn’t like where this conversation was going.

  “Unless you’re trying to pull one over on us all.”

  She glanced back at Bradley. Did he believe her? Or were his doubts greater than his faith in her also?

  * * *

  Two days passed with no updates. Bradley made sure that Julianne was secure at the Eyes headquarters and, because of that, there had been no more attempts on her life. They’d eaten their meals together, she’d helped him in the office and in the evenings they’d hung out with Jack, Rachel, Denton and Elle.

  For just a moment, things felt normal. Eerily normal.

  But Bradley cherished that time. He liked seeing Julianne smile. He liked seeing her interact with his friends. She had an easygoing personality and a laid-back smile that could put anyone at ease.

  But there were also a lot of suspicions circling her. Was she being set up? Or was his earlier theory correct that all the enemy had to do was send in a beautiful woman? He didn’t believe that, despite the doubt that nagged at him.

  But why would that correspondence be found on Diane’s home computer? What possible explanation could there be? And what about the note found at the scene of the house fire?

  Even with all of that confusion, he knew he was head over heels in love with her.