“What’d you find?”
“I’m getting an error message. Hold on.”
Deke peered at his brother in the back seat. “Now would be a good time to explain why the Harwoods set you up to take the fall for Gracie Gilbert’s murder.”
Dylan’s gaze shifted and pain straddled his features. “They wanted to tie you up long enough for them to make their next shipment.” He glanced at Britt. “They know about SONR.”
“What’s SONR?” Britt asked.
Ignoring Britt’s question, Deke asked, “They told you this?”
“Blaze bragged about his connection at the Service and about how your secret’s not a secret. The rest I heard from Eli and Caleb before they took me prisoner.” Dylan pressed his fingers into his temples. “Eli asked Tina—a mutual friend of mine and Gracie’s—out to dinner. When she went to the bathroom, she left her phone on the table and he used it to text Gracie about meeting with me.”
“Why Gracie?”
“Eli thought you’d never be able to make the connection. His father set him straight in two seconds flat.” Dylan met his gaze in the mirror. “That’s when Blaze ordered him to eliminate you—and your teammates.”
“Eli’s the tool,” Britt said. “Blaze is the machine.”
“Boss, the gig is up,” Jax said. “Headquarters has locked me out of the system. We’re flying blind now.”
Deke slammed his palm against the steering wheel. He couldn’t believe Vasquez would shut them down without informing him first. The director could be a hard ass when it came to protecting SONR, but he also operated from a playbook that was steeped in honor and integrity.
“Sorry, Jax.”
“Don’t ever give up on the nerd, boss. I’ve got moves that’ll blow headquarters away.”
“First, contact the team. If they see any Harwood, they should consider them a threat. The storage unit op’s a dead end. Call them off. Send Keone and his team to me in Niles.”
“I’m on it.”
“Then find the mole who’s feeding Harwood intel.”
“With pleasure. Jax out.”
“Maybe Jonah can give her a hand,” Britt said.
“He’d never find her location.” He tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. “I learned a long time ago to never underestimate a pissed-off Jax.”
“Sounds like Micki.” Britt grasped the oh-shit handle. “What else do you know about Gold Star?”
“The term popped up on the Service’s radar about a year ago. SONR began investigating and received a viable tip that a large inventory of illegal contraband would be moved from a remote location. By the time we got there, the barn was empty. I didn’t hear the term again until this business with Gracie Gilbert.” His gaze flicked to his rearview mirror. “Got anything to add, Dylan?”
“I learned about Harwood and Gold Star during a hunting trip. A friend of a friend bragged about the money he’d made hunting bear out of season. Piqued my interest.” His eyes met Deke’s in the mirror. “Not in a financial way.”
“So you started following the family?”
“Yeah. I thought the Conrads were screwed up, but our family’s not even in the same stratosphere as the Harwoods.” He jabbed his thumb behind him. “That storage building back there. I broke into two others just like it. Same inventory.”
“If Harwood has a half dozen of those buildings filled with animals and animal parts,” he said, “I’d wager his business goes beyond the local Asian markets.”
“International?” Dylan asked.
“Fits. A businessman would do much to protect an enterprise that size.”
“Like murder,” Britt said.
“He’s employed the perfect weapon. Eli Harwood’s got a taste of blood and now he can’t stop.”
45
“Rachel, are you all right?” Evie kept her attention on the shirtless, bandaged man who held a gun to the nurse practitioner’s head with a steady hand.
“M-more or less.”
“Who were you talking to?” Creepy Guy asked.
“What does it matter?”
“Because I asked.”
Hollowness gripped his green eyes, as if nothing but air and darkness existed in their depths. What would he do if he knew she’d been talking to Deke? What did he want with him? How could she protect both Deke and Rachel?
She decided to stick to the truth. “Deke.”
“Is he coming?”
“No, he’s on his way to Rockton. Did you come here hoping to find Deke?”
“I came for you.”
The pressure on her chest cinched tighter. “Have we met before?” His eyes narrowed. “I mean, before the incident at Triple B.”
“No.”
“What do you want from me?”
“To say you’re sorry.”
She glanced between him and Rachel, confused. “For what?”
He cracked the butt of the pistol against Rachel’s temple. She dropped to the floor with a sickening thud.
A pitiful scream erupted from Evie’s throat. She stared at the blood trail oozing over Rachel’s eyelid, her nose, her cheek, before dripping onto the tile floor, pooling there. Her stomach tilted left, then right. It was the Gracie Gilbert scene all over again, but this time she got front row seating for the action.
He advanced on her.
“Who are you?”
“What does it matter?”
He used Evie’s question against her.
“I’d like to know the name of the guy who’s about to kill me.”
That brought him up short. After a few seconds of indecision, he finally said, “Eli.”
Eli. Eli. Eli…
Eli Harwood.
Gracie Gilbert.
Dylan Conrad.
Deke Conrad.
Evie.
The puzzle pieces aligned in her mind with terrifying, perfect clarity.
She scanned the small space, looking for something, anything to clobber the psycho with. Finding nothing, she decided to try and get some answers before she met her gruesome death.
“Why are—”
“You made me lose face with Mama.”
“I did?”
It was then she caught the bead of sweat trickling down his temple.
His handgun tapped against his thigh.
Thrump, thrump, thrump.
Although she was no expert on mental illness, she could identify a lit fuse as well as anyone.
“Mama had to pull the glass shard out of my back.”
“Oo-kay.”
“Called me a pussy.”
“Your mother called you that?”
The tapping got faster.
“She didn’t give me time to explain, to tell her how you came out of nowhere, with your claws extended.”
“I’m sorry if you were hurt, but you scared me.”
“I meant to. Daddy sent me to kill Deke Conrad and you were in my way.”
“Why does your dad want Deke dead?”
“He’s meddling in our business.”
“Did you kill Gracie Gilbert?” She held her breath, willing him to admit it.
He studied her, as if she were an insect he’d like to splay open so he could explore her innards. Then the corner of one eye crinkled. She supposed it was the closest he could get to a smile. The small sign of emotion was effective. It confirmed his responsibility in Gracie’s death and conveyed his utter absence of regret.
“Are you the person who paid Gracie’s brother to drug her, so that you could spend time alone with her?”
“How do you—” He slashed the gun through the air. “Never mind. I should have killed that spineless pecker when his usefulness ended. He won’t be talking to anyone else.”
“What were you doing with her? R-rape?”
His features scrunched into disgust. “I had to make her appear an addict. A few injections in the foot. I planted cocaine on her, when I bumped into her at the park. All false leads to keep the police—and special age
nt Deke Conrad—busy and out of our hair.” The thrumping intensified. “All would have gone according to plan if Dylan hadn’t stole Gracie’s phone.”
Foot injections? Krocodile.
A fist pounded on the door. “Miss Steele, it’s Sergeant Prickett.”
When she opened her mouth to scream, Eli aimed his gun at Rachel’s head. The dispassion in his features made her blood turn cold.
“Answer,” Eli whispered. “Be convincing, or all three of you die.”
“Everything okay in there?” the sergeant yelled, following another pounding.
The weight of her decision dug into her chest like the heel of a cowboy boot. Should she rush Creepy Guy again? Somehow she didn’t think he’d fall for the tactic twice. Should she yell bloody murder and hope the cop reacted swiftly enough? She recalled his dislike of Deke and, by extension, her.
Drawing in a breath that caused her to cough, she strode to the door and opened. “Evening, Sergeant Prickett. What are you doing in Niles?”
“Interdepartment cooperation. Some of these small towns don’t even have a police force, and it can take up to an hour for the sheriff’s department to respond.” He glanced beyond her shoulder. “Miss Frye asked me to check on things over here. She said you were going to move the Med Mobile.”
She peered at the burning staff RV and her heart hurt all over. Such a loss. And for what? Throwing a maniac out a window? She caught Lisa’s eye from across the parking lot. Her friend sat in the back of an ambulance, wearing an oxygen mask. She lifted her hand and waggled her fingers at her friend. Behind the mask, Lisa smiled.
Safe.
“Sorry to waste your time, sergeant. I was just getting ready to move the RV when you knocked.”
“Miss Frye said someone followed you from the ice cream shop. Do you have a description?”
Damn Lisa for being such a good friend.
“Wish I could give you one, so you could hunt him down and make him pay for destroying our property. But he wore a baseball cap that obscured his features.”
“Height, build, race, anything?”
“If I were to guess, I’d say Caucasian. Medium build, less than six feet tall. But I’m not sure any of that matters without a better physical description.”
The sergeant snapped one more look over her shoulder. “It’s a start.” He nodded and turned away.
She started to close the door, and the sergeant paused.
“If I miss Deke Conrad when he shows up, tell him I have a few more questions about the Gilbert case.”
“Last I heard, Deke’s headed to Rockton.”
“According to Miss Frye, he’s on his way to Niles.”
The sergeant’s words paralyzed all thought, all movement, all awareness of her surroundings.
Deke was coming.
Here.
Where a psycho wanted him dead.
Fingers tugged at her shirt, forcing her back a step. The door closed. Locking out her saviors, enclosing her with death.
“Get into the driver’s seat.”
“Why?”
“Move the RV back.”
She strode on numb legs to the front cabin. As she passed Rachel, she saw the familiar waterfall of blood on her neck.
“Oh, my God.” She stumbled. “You killed her! While she was unconscious? What kind of monster are you?”
“The kind that will kill Deke if you don’t get your ass upfront.”
A tear crested her eyelid as she skirted around Rachel. She climbed into the driver’s seat, the instruments blurring. Her fingers fished for the keys they kept beneath the seat. After three attempts, she latched onto the ring.
The engine rumbled to life. In front of her, emergency personnel were doing their best to minimize the damage, but Eli had made sure nothing would be left to save by lighting up the RV at both ends. Poor Lisa. This would be a tough loss for her.
“Nice and slow,” Eli said from someplace behind her. “Back up twenty feet, then kill the engine.”
She followed his instructions in a haze of fear and grief. The sight of Rachel’s slit throat was frozen like jagged icicles in her mind.
Had she said something to the sergeant that had infuriated Eli? He hadn’t seemed upset when he’d closed the door, but who knew with him. He showed neither happiness or anger, only frustration. A robot with a deadly weapon and warped programming.
Out of habit, she stashed the keys under the seat again. “Now what?”
He shrugged on his shirt. “Open the driver’s side door and get out.”
Hope leaped into her chest and, for a split second, she thought he would let her go.
“If you run or even try to run, I’ll hunt down your boyfriend and make what I did to Rachel seem like a birthday party.”
She didn’t doubt for a second that Eli would torture Deke. The longer she was in his presence, the more she suspected he enjoyed the part he played in his father’s business.
In exaggerated slow motion, she pulled the handle and pushed the door open with her forearm. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flame near Eli’s hand before a sudden burst of glass at the back of the Med Mobile.
“What have you done?”
“Out. Now.”
She jumped out and the acrid scent of smoke swooped up her nose, making her cough.
“Quiet!” Eli followed her out, shoving a hanky in her face before closing the door with a soft click. “Put it over your nose and mouth.”
Holding the square of cloth between her fingertips, she tried to ascertain whether the thing was clean or not.
“If you cough and call attention to our location, I’ll kill anyone who approaches.”
“Do you have no care for human life?”
“Like anyone’s given a damn about mine in the last twenty-six years. Now move.” He pushed her toward a dumpster at the edge of the parking lot, the RV providing the perfect cover.
A shout split the air. “Fire!”
She choked back tears passing the dumpster and following his instructions to head west down an alley that bisected a row of ranch-style houses on each side. Would the firemen put out the flames before they reached Rachel? She couldn’t stomach the thought of her friend’s body being scorched as well as mutilated.
How long would it take the police to realize Evie wasn’t among the ashes? Far too long.
When they were several blocks away from the pharmacy parking lot, she ventured a question. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace where I can think.”
“Will anyone else be there?”
“No.”
“Gracie Gilbert died the same way as Rachel. Did you kill Gracie?”
“Daddy wanted Dylan Conrad to stop snooping around. I gave Conrad something else to worry about.”
“So you did try to frame Gracie’s murder on Deke’s brother.”
“Would’ve worked if the little bastard hadn’t stolen her phone.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play stupid. I watched the whole scene play out.”
She recalled the overwhelming sense of being watched after she’d left the body and went in search of Deke. The same sensation she’d experienced in the pharmacy’s lot. “The police would never have cracked her passcode.”
“You give Gracie too much credit. She had a booklet in her purse that contained all her passwords.”
As they approached a bronze-colored pickup, the lights flashed and she heard the telltale sound of locks gliding open.
“You drive.” Eli tossed her the key fob. “Drive a few miles per hour over the speed limit.”
Rather than start up the vehicle, she attempted to tap into whatever bit of humanity he might still possess, if any. “Why not end this now? Let me go and run. Deke’s team has enough of the puzzle now to put you away for years.”
“Not until I get my apology.”
“I already said I was sorry for hurting you.”
“I’m not doing all of this because
of a damn cut.”
“Then what am I apologizing for?”
“For making me kill my mother.”
46
Dozens of red and blue flashing lights lasered the night sky.
The sight confirmed Deke’s worst fear.
Evie was in trouble.
Police vehicles from several different agencies littered the pharmacy parking lot and volunteer firemen rushed back and forth between the two RVs.
One engine sprayed the fire-consumed staff RV and another battled to tamp down a smaller flame at the back of the Med Mobile.
What the fuck?
Evie and Lisa were nowhere to be found.
“Dylan, stay in the truck.”
“No way—”
“To that horde of officers out there, you’re a person of interest for Gracie’s murder. Somehow I don’t think you popping up in their midst is going to be productive.”
Dylan slouched in his seat and crossed his arms. “Still playing big brother.”
“Be glad he has been,” Britt said. “Or you’d be rotting in a prison cell by now.”
Deke and Britt slammed their doors and took off at a run.
“There’s Lisa,” Britt said, pointing at an ambulance. “I’ll see what she knows.”
Another ambulance rolled into the parking lot, passing him. The vehicle stopped outside the smoldering Med Mobile. Two EMTs grabbed a gurney from the back and stationed it near the RV’s side door, where smoke streamed upward from the corners. They went inside.
Thunderous pounding shook his chest as he sprinted toward the RV. A million scenarios streaked through his mind’s eye—all of them gruesome, none of the good for Evie’s well-being.
By the time he reached the crowd of milling officers and deputies, an EMT appeared in the doorway, coughing. Behind, a black body bag. He and his partner descended the stairs and placed the corpse on the gurney.
Deke lost his mind.
He shoved uniformed men and women out of his way like a bowling ball careening through a set of pins. Grabbing the nearest EMT, he demanded in a voice he didn’t recognize, “Who’s in the bag?”
When the EMT stared at him, he got into his face and yelled, “Who’s in the fucking body bag?”
Rough hands yanked him back. He fought them off, throwing kicks and punches and elbows. Within seconds, he was on the ground, surrounded by a half dozen uniforms, hands cuffed behind his back. He craned his neck around to look at the black bag.
Roaming Wild (Steele Ridge Book 6) Page 24
