She turned the screen so Ella and Sam could see a small pulsing red arrow and a glowing green one.
“I don’t think I have that icon on my phone,” Sam said, and Honor nodded.
“Right. Because if someone got nosy and looked at your phone, we wouldn’t want them wondering why you want to track someone named Honor. I’ll show you how to access the program once we get back to my place.”
“Is that where we’re headed?” he asked, taking the coat from Ella’s hands and urging her into it.
“That’s where Wren and Radley are going to meet us. Unless you have a better plan.”
“I’d like to go to Ruby’s apartment,” Ella said.
“That’s not a good idea,” Sam responded.
“I don’t see why it’s not,” she responded, even though she did. Even though she knew that going back to the apartment would be the expected thing, the thing that the men who’d kidnapped her would be waiting for.
“I don’t see why we’re standing around in the cold rain discussing this when we could be in my nice warm SUV,” Honor cut in. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
She obviously expected them to comply.
She started walking quickly, moving parallel to the road, her gaze fixed on the highway below. How she kept from tripping over a rock or root, Ella didn’t know, but she managed it.
Ella wasn’t as confident. She’d nearly fallen down the steep hill once; she didn’t plan to repeat the mistake.
“There she is!” Honor crowed, gesturing toward a vehicle sitting on the side of the road, its flashers on.
“How did you manage to get from down there to up here?” Ella asked, eyeing the steep descent that was between them and the vehicle.
“It’s not as precarious as it seems. Just follow me.” She started down, picking her way sideways across the rocky terrain like she’d been born to do it.
“Let’s go,” Sam said, taking Ella’s arm and urging her to follow.
“Is there another option?” She’d never been a fan of heights. She preferred farmland to mountains. Valleys to peaks. She liked to hike through forest and follow trails along rivers, but climbing rocks or scaling cliffs appealed to her about as much as having a root canal did.
“Not currently,” he replied. “But I think Honor is right. This isn’t as steep as it looks.”
“Right,” she muttered, looking straight down. Way down. Probably eighty to a hundred feet. A truck whizzed by, spraying water onto the narrow shoulder. If she fell, she’d either break her neck or be run over by an eighteen-wheeler.
“You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” Sam asked.
“Not when I’m standing on the ground looking up at them.”
“Okay. So you are.” He touched her cheek, looked straight into her eyes.
She should have moved away.
She knew that, but she stayed right where she was, looking into eyes that were probably blue or green, the lighter colored irises surrounded by a darker ring.
He was a handsome man.
She’d noticed that in a perfunctory way.
Now she was noticing it more.
“Unfortunately, we’re up here,” he said. “The SUV is down there. We’ve got to get down. It’s not that high, and getting to the bottom isn’t going to be nearly as difficult as it looks.”
“I’ll tell myself that as I’m plunging to my death.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall.”
She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t his responsibility. That she didn’t need him to hold on to her arm or to keep her from falling. That all she really needed was a ride back to Ruby’s apartment. She could manage things from there. Call the state police, collect the things she planned to bring back to Charlotte and get out of town.
“Tell me more about your cousin,” he said, his hand wrapped around hers as he headed down the hill.
“What do you want to know?” she replied, her mouth dry, her focus on the ground, the rocks, the traffic speeding by below.
“How long had she been in Newcastle?”
“Three years.”
“And she worked at the clinic the entire time?”
“Yes. She’d been working in Charlotte, but she was looking for a change. She found the job posting on the county website and applied. They asked her to come for an interview. A month later, she was packing up and moving.”
“Was she happy with that decision?”
“Yes.” She frowned, remembering the journals and Ruby’s beautiful loopy handwriting.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I am. I was.”
“But?”
“As long as I’ve known her, Ruby has journaled. She has dozens of notebooks filled with her thoughts in the attic of the farmhouse where we grew up. I’ve never read them, but I found a bunch more at the apartment.”
“You read those?” he asked.
“Yes.” She’d had to. She’d wanted to know the details of Ruby’s life, and she’d wanted to know what had led to her death.
Not drug addiction.
She couldn’t believe that.
Or wouldn’t.
“Was there something in them that made you think she was unhappy?”
“Not really, but she mentioned being worried about a few of the people she worked with.”
“Worried that they’d hurt her? Or worried in general?”
“Worried in general. Which seemed out of character for her. Ruby was never the kind of person to waste time worrying about things that might not happen.” Ella, on the other hand, worried plenty. She thought it might have begun after the car accident that killed her parents. Her grandmother had said she’d always been prone to it. A trait from your mother’s family. Just like your beautiful hair and your gorgeous eyes, she’d always said.
Maybe she’d been right.
All Ella knew was that Ruby had been the confident cousin. She’d been the timid one. They’d both matured, grown and changed, but those general tendencies had remained the same. Ruby had faced life with gusto and excitement. Ella eased into every new situation with a little trepidation and a lot of caution.
“Did she say what she was worried about? Specifically, I mean?”
“One of the people she was helping had missed a couple of group sessions, and she wrote that she didn’t understand why. He’d seemed eager to kick his habits and make a fresh start, and she’d lined him up with a job.” She shrugged, remembering the words and the jotted number in the margin of the page. A phone number, maybe. She hadn’t called it.
“I’d think that wouldn’t be all that unusual. Relapse is more the norm than the exception when it comes to drug addiction.”
“I know. Ruby did, too. She spent her life watching people make progress, fall backward and then pull themselves back up again.”
“She spent her life offering a hand to help them do it,” he said. “That had to be exhausting and disheartening at times.”
“She didn’t kill herself, if that’s what you’re implying.” The words popped out before she could stop them. “Forget I said that.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you weren’t implying anything.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t, but now I’m curious. Did the police tell you that she killed herself?”
“They implied it was a possibility.”
“Why?”
“You ask a lot of questions, Sam.”
“Someone kidnapped you, Ella. I don’t think you need to be reminded of what could have happened.”
“I didn’t believe what the coroner listed as cause of death,” she said, because Sam was right. She could have been killed out in the woods, and there wouldn’t have been one person out looking for her. “I went to the police and told them that. They
explained that I was wrong to question the findings.”
“What were the findings?”
“Ruby died of an opioid overdose. They said if it hadn’t been accidental, she’d done it on purpose, and then they’d asked me if she’d seemed depressed prior to her death.”
“I see.”
“I doubt it. Ruby was never depressed. She loved life. She loved her job. She loved her friends and her church family. There’s no way she killed herself, but she couldn’t have overdosed, either. Her childhood was ruined by her mother’s addiction. She was terrified of becoming like her. I think I saw her take an aspirin once while we were growing up—that’s how adamant she was that drugs were bad for the body and mind. There’s no way she became an addict. None.”
“So you came here to clean out her apartment and to find out the truth?”
“Something like that.”
She expected him to tell her that she’d wasted her time, to explain all the reasons why the medical examiner and coroner were right. She expected him to do exactly what the police had—tell her that she should pack up her cousin’s life and go back home. Move on. Hold on to the memories. Let go of the sorrow.
“Okay,” he said instead.
“Okay what?”
“We’ve made it down in one piece, and on the way, I learned some valuable information,” he responded.
He was right.
They were almost at the bottom of the hill.
Surprised, she took the last few steps down to the shoulder of the road. “I guess you were right. It wasn’t as difficult as it looked.”
“Most things aren’t,” he responded, offering a quick smile.
“Are you two coming?” Honor called, already at the SUV and standing near the driver’s door, staring at her phone. “Looks like Wren and Radley are twelve miles from my apartment. ETA twenty minutes. If we hurry, we should be there around the same time.”
She closed the hood and hopped into the vehicle, turning on the engine before they arrived.
“Is she always so energetic?” Ella asked as Sam opened the back door for her.
“Unless she’s working on something computer-related,” he responded. “Then she’s dead still and half deaf. Buckle up.”
He closed the door and pulled out his phone, walking a few feet away.
“I feel like I told him I was in a hurry,” Honor said, but she didn’t seem bothered by the delay. She didn’t seem all that curious about the phone call, either.
Ella was.
If Honor hadn’t been sitting in the car with her, she might have been tempted to roll down the window and listen in.
As it was, all she could do was pull her seat belt across her lap and wait for his return.
* * *
The drive to Honor’s apartment was quick and uneventful. Twenty minutes of highway. Five minutes of winding through the backstreets of Newcastle. The houses were small there—the kind Sam imagined fishing families had lived in during the ’50s. Now, they were mostly rentals, a few For Sale signs sitting squarely in the center of postage-stamp-sized lots.
Honor’s apartment was in a newer section, close to the tourist areas. The building was three stories of balconies that overlooked the Damariscotta River.
“Don’t get too excited,” she said, as she pulled into the attached parking garage. “I don’t have a river view.”
“I’ll try to contain my disappointment,” Sam said, scanning the cars as she drove through the first level of the garage and up to the second. The area was dimly lit, the parking spots mostly full. There was a vehicle gate that had to be accessed with a pass, but anyone could walk in without a problem. If he’d wanted to harm someone who lived in the apartment, he didn’t think it would be difficult to do. Duck under the gate. Hide between a couple of cars. Wait.
“Don’t worry. There are security cameras everywhere, and they’re monitored 24/7,” Honor said as if she’d read his mind.
“That doesn’t mean a whole lot,” he responded.
“Maybe not, but if we’re killed, there’ll be a record of it.”
“That’s...comforting,” Ella murmured.
She’d been silent during the drive, and he hadn’t pressed her to speak. She’d given him enough information to start investigating. He had her cousin’s name, occupation and cause of death. He knew where she’d worked and who her employer was.
He knew she was dead and that Ella didn’t believe it was an accident.
She also didn’t believe it was suicide.
That only left one other option.
Ella hadn’t mentioned murder, but he knew she’d been thinking it. She’d come to Newcastle to find out the truth. He had to assume she’d asked a lot of questions, pushed a lot of buttons, gotten a lot of people’s attention.
One of them wanted to silence her.
Maybe more than one.
Ruby had been a social worker. He’d assume she had access to background information on all the people she worked with. He’d also assume she worked with adults and teenagers. Some from good homes. Some in foster care. Some who were transients or runaways or simply living off the grid.
According to Bo, those were the people The Organization preyed on.
Disconnected. Unloved. Homeless.
He frowned, tapping his fingers against his thigh, impatient and restless. He preferred action to idleness, and this assignment had meant a whole lot of sitting and a whole lot of doing nothing.
Until now.
Now things had heated up.
Yeah. His cover had been blown, but he still thought they were a step closer to shutting down the Newcastle cell. He’d called Wren as soon as he’d reached Honor’s vehicle and asked her to do a quick background check on Ruby McIntire. She said she’d have the information before she arrived at the apartment.
He was anxious to see what she’d come up with.
If Ella was right, her cousin had been murdered.
But she could be wrong.
Love often made people see things that weren’t there. Loyalty where there was none. Compassion where only apathy existed. It wasn’t a stretch to think that someone could miss signs of depression or addiction if she wanted to.
And for three years, the two women had lived a thousand miles apart. Had they visited each other frequently? Talked regularly? Had the relationship changed after Ruby moved?
“Here we are,” Honor said cheerfully as she pulled into a numbered parking spot on the second floor of the garage. “Home sweet home. Until I can get back to my real home with my real bed and my real job.” She opened the door and hopped out.
If he hadn’t known her so well, Sam would have thought she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings, looking for trouble, focusing her energy on making certain everything was exactly the way it should be.
He knew her methods, though. She might seem distracted and unaware, but Honor was all about details. If a chair in the office was moved, she’d notice. She read her surroundings the way other people read emotions in people’s faces. She collected the data like a computer, spinning it through her mind at breakneck speed.
“Looks good,” she said, and he opened Ella’s door and pulled her out.
“No lollygagging, folks,” Honor continued, leading the way to a door in the cement wall. “It might look good, but things can change on a dime, and they usually do.”
She unlocked the door, stepping aside so Ella could step in first.
“Apartment 230, Sam. Here’s the key. I was outside the least amount of time, so I should be the one to do reconnaissance. I’m not expecting to find anyone lurking around near the front door of the building, but if I do, I’ll let you know.” She was gone before he could respond, jogging through the gloomy garage, heading for the stairwell that would take her to the lower level of the garage.
�
��I thought we were all going to the apartment together,” Ella said uneasily.
He stepped into the carpeted hallway, closing the door before he responded. “We are.”
“And, yet, she’s out there, and we’re in here.”
“You heard what she said. She’ll be up once she makes sure the area is clear. And it should be. As far as we know, The Organization has no idea she exists.” He touched her shoulder, steering her down the hall.
She went, but her muscles were tense, her movements tightly controlled.
“Is there some reason why you don’t want to be in the apartment alone with me?” he asked, keeping his tone conversational and light.
“Who said I wasn’t comfortable?”
“Your tension. Your facial expression. Just about everything except your words.” They reached apartment 230, and he wasn’t surprised to see a colorful wreath hanging from the knocker. Fall leaves and plastic gourds were attached to a foam ring. Handmade, he was certain. It looked like one of Honor’s creations.
“We’re strangers,” Ella said, her gaze focused on the wreath, as if staring at it would somehow solve whatever problem she was having.
“Not quite. I know your name. You know mine. I know you’re afraid of heights. You know I’ve been working undercover.”
“Right,” she murmured, her arms folded across her stomach, Honor’s coat bunching under them.
She looked vulnerable and scared, and he’d have stood there trying to figure out why if he hadn’t been worried about being seen. No one in The Organization knew Honor, but Sam had a feeling most of them knew him. His name. His face. If he was seen by someone who had that information, his whereabouts would be reported to whomever was calling the shots. It wouldn’t be long before an army of assassins showed up to take him out and drag Ella away.
He unlocked the door and gestured for her to enter.
She did so reluctantly.
She didn’t have to say anything for him to know that.
“Relax,” he said, hanging the keys on a hook near the front door. “I’m not going to turn into a werewolf when the moon is full.”
“That’s what they all say,” she replied, offering a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
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