“What about Sam?” The question popped out, and she knew what it told everyone standing there about how she felt.
Wren eyed her thoughtfully, her gaze intent and her expression neutral. Whatever she thought or felt, she hid it well. “He’ll join you when we finish here.”
“I appreciate the offer of a safe house, but I’d rather go home. I’ve already been here nearly a week, and I have deadlines to meet.” She did. She also had her quiet house, her sanctuary with window alarms and three locks on every exterior door. Once she was there, she’d be able to think more clearly about Ruby, her journals, her death.
And about Sam.
He was talking to the officer, the two of them striding along the shoreline, heading toward the area where the sheriff had last been seen. He glanced back, his blond hair dark with moisture, his jaw stubbled with the beginnings of a beard. Hard face, hard expression and too much muscle. If she’d seen him in a dark alley, she’d have run in the opposite direction.
She’d have probably done the same if she’d spotted him in a well-lit one.
Now, she wanted to run toward him and stay close.
That was completely out of character, completely not her normal MO. She liked physical space. She liked solitude. She enjoyed sitting by herself and listening to her thoughts. But Sam intrigued her. The way he worked with confidence and compassion. The ease with which he moved from one crisis to another, without panic or confusion or fear. He was the kind of person who’d be great on any team—a leader who wouldn’t insist on leading but wouldn’t refuse the role, one who did rather than delegated.
She liked that.
She liked him.
And that could lead to trouble if she let it.
She looked away, focusing her attention on Wren.
The special agent was watching her, dark eyes focused and intense, expression unreadable. She didn’t seem like the kind of person to miss many details, and Ella suspected she was excellent at reading body language and facial expressions.
She tried to school hers into one of abject indifference. “You have my information. If you need to contact me once I’m home, there won’t be a problem.”
She lifted her purse, pulling the strap back over her head, doing everything she could to act like she wasn’t falling hard for one of Wren’s agents.
“It isn’t in your best interest to return to Charlotte.”
“Or in the best interest of your case?” She opened the purse, relieved to see that the interior wasn’t filled with water. Her cell phone was functional, the screen glowing. She took out the journal. The cover was water stained but the inside had mostly been spared. Only the edges of the paper were wet. “I’m still going to cooperate, Agent Santino. I just want to do it from a more comfortable location.”
“I think you’ll find the safe house very comfortable. The place is a summer rental with three master suites. Fireplaces. A large kitchen.”
“That’s not what I mean by comfortable.” And she was certain Wren knew that.
“I know,” Wren conceded. “But it’s currently all we have to offer.”
“You could offer me a ride to Charlotte. Or to the nearest airport.”
“I could, but I wouldn’t feel good about it. You may think you’ll be safer in Charlotte, but you won’t be. The Organization is far-reaching, and it has plenty of people on the payroll. I’d hate for something to happen to you because you didn’t take the threat seriously.”
“I’m taking it seriously.”
“Then stay in the safe house for the next few days. Let us do the jobs we’ve been trained to do.”
It was a reasonable request, and Ella knew she’d be foolish to deny it. She wanted to be alone. She wanted time to think. She wanted her house and her bed and her scuffed writing desk.
She also wanted to live.
She wanted to find out the truth about what had happened to Ruby. Whether they were behind Ruby’s death or not, she wanted The Organization stopped.
“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll stay there for a couple days.”
“Is there anything you’d like us to bring you from home? If so, I can have a Charlotte police officer retrieve it, and we can have it for you by tomorrow.”
“The only thing I’d like to have is my laptop, and I left that under the seat of the station wagon.”
“As far as I know, they haven’t found your vehicle yet, but when they do, I’ll get the laptop. In the meantime, we can set you up with another one. Adam?” she called, and the man in the dark suit walked over.
“Ella, this is Special Agent Adam Whitfield. He’s with the Special Crimes Unit,” Wren said.
“Adam.” He smiled and offered a firm handshake. “I was sorry to hear that you recently lost your cousin. I know how painful it is to have to say goodbye to someone you love.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
“She needs a laptop,” Wren cut in. “Can you arrange that?”
“Of course.”
“And we need an update on her car from the local PD. Her personal laptop is in it.”
“So is Ruby’s,” Ella added. “I had a box of her stuff behind the back seat. Her laptop and weekly planner were in it.”
Wren raised a brow, her expression as neutral and unreadable as ever. “Did you find anything interesting in either?”
“She’d jotted a few notes in the planner. I thought they might be birth dates for people in her recovery groups. They were always penned in on Tuesday or Thursday, and that’s when the groups met.”
“She wrote birth dates? Or the names of people who had birthdays?” Wren asked.
“Birth dates. Or...just dates. I really don’t know what they represented. She had a day and year written in on the Tuesday before she died. I remember that specifically because it was so close to her death, and I kept going back to it, wondering if it was connected somehow.”
“I’ll look into it,” Wren promised, jotting something into a small notebook she pulled from her pocket. “How about the laptop? Did you find anything on it that you thought important?”
“I couldn’t unlock it. I don’t know her password. I was hoping I’d find it somewhere in the apartment, but if it was there, it’s gone now.”
“Honor can probably unlock the system,” Adam said. “She’s an expert at computer technology. Let me see if I can get the local PD a little more excited about finding your car. I want to take a look at the dates.” He strode away, and Ella ran her hand over the notebook again, wiping away a few drops of water that had fallen from her hair. “The sheriff mentioned that there’s been a problem with people going missing from the area.”
“That coincides with the information we have about The Organization’s activities.”
“One of them is someone Ruby mentioned in her journal. I’m not sure how important that is, but it’s probably best if you take this into protective custody.”
She handed it to Wren. “Being around me seems to be hazardous.”
“It won’t be once you’re in the safe house, but I would like to send this to our evidence lab. They may see something you haven’t in Ruby’s writing. We’ll return it as soon as they finish their analysis.” She glanced at the street, gesturing toward a dark SUV that was pulling up next to the squad car. “It looks like your ride is here. We’ll talk more at the safe house. For now, get warmed up and get some rest. The past few weeks have been hard ones.” She headed back up the hill, and Ella followed, cold despite the blanket.
Getting warm sounded great, but she’d rather stick around and get answers.
The FBI had other ideas.
Honor was out of the SUV before Ella reached it.
She opened the back door. No smile. No cheerful greeting. Her normal bubbly personality replaced by a more somber persona. “I’ve got an extra blanket in the back. Climb in. I’ll gra
b it for you.”
“I’m fine,” Ella said, but Honor hurried to the back and opened the hatch, unzipping a black duffel that sat there. “This is my emergency preparedness kit. Basically two changes of clothes. Blanket.” She took it out and tossed it to Ella. “Backup phone. Extra battery. First-aid kit... Here it is! Chocolate.” She tossed that, too, the chocolate bar sailing over the seat and into Ella’s lap.
“I can’t eat your emergency chocolate.”
“I can’t have you passing out if we have an emergency and have to ditch the ride.” She zipped the duffel, closed the hatch and slid in behind the wheel. “You didn’t eat this morning, right?”
“Right, but—”
“Eat the chocolate. Not because I’m expecting to be in a footrace with Organization thugs, but because if I am, I want to be sure I don’t have to carry you on my back.” She started the engine, flipping the heat on to full power as Radley climbed in next to Ella.
“We’re set,” he said. “Let’s head out.”
“What about the sheriff?” Ella asked, trying to see details of the scene below. Wren was standing in the tall grass, talking to a uniformed officer. A few feet away, Sam and Adam were pointing at tire marks dug deep into the wet earth.
“He followed the ambush vehicles and was able to get a partial plate on one of them. He’s heading to his office to run it with the model and make, and see if he can get a match.”
“I’m glad he’s okay.”
“I’m sure he is, too,” Honor said. “We’re fortunate that the sheriff’s vehicle was the only real casualty. Things could have ended a lot more tragically.”
Like they had for Ruby?
Ella hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on that. She’d focused her energy on trying to prove that Ruby hadn’t been an addict and hadn’t died of an accidental overdose. That had been easy before Sam outlined the FBI’s theory about her death.
Now, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Maybe because the car had gone silent. Maybe because all the chaos and the fear was over, and she was left with nothing but her own thoughts. And they were all for Ruby—the loving person she’d been and the tragedy of her loss.
Her cell phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her purse, glad for the distraction. A text had come through, the number unfamiliar, the words:
Ella? It’s Sam. Add me to your address book. If you need anything, let me know.
I need to know if she suffered, she responded, hitting Send before she could rethink the text.
She was unconscious before she knew anything was wrong, was his immediate response.
And then, as if he knew she was noticing the fact that he hadn’t answered yes or no to her question:
How she lived was more important than how she died. Remember that. Also remember that I’m going to find the guy who killed her, and I’m going to make sure he pays for it. That won’t bring Ruby back, but I think she’d be happy to know that justice was served.
He was right. On both counts. Ruby’s life had been everything she’d wanted—fun and adventurous and filled with service to others. Her death had been violent and too soon, but Ruby would have been happy to know that there were people fighting for the truth and that, one day, justice would be served.
“Is everything okay?” Radley asked.
“Yes,” she responded by rote.
“Then why do you look like it’s not?”
“It’s been an exhausting couple of weeks.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.” He unfolded Honor’s blanket and draped it across her legs. “But you’re not alone in this anymore, Ella. You’ve got a lot of people standing with you.”
“Wow, Radley,” Honor said. “That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“Then you haven’t heard me say much, because I have it on good authority that I’m a nice guy.”
“Being nice and saying nice things aren’t the same,” she argued. They sounded like bickering siblings, and that reminded Ella of her early teenage years, the days when Ruby had been in college and they’d squabbled good-naturedly about clothes and hair scrunchies. Their grandmother had still been alive then, and she’d reminded them often that they needed to be nice to each other, because faith and family were the only things that could really be counted on.
She’d been right.
The older Ella got, the more she understood that.
And now, with Ruby gone, she felt the truth of it even more. Ruby had been the only one left in the world who knew her favorite color, the only one who knew she preferred vanilla to chocolate and pie to cake.
The only one who would have noticed if Ella had disappeared.
Ella had never minded that she didn’t have a large group of friends or an impressive network of acquaintances. She hadn’t ever felt that she needed anyone in her corner. Maybe because Ruby had always been there.
Now, though, her aloneness was like a dripping faucet in the middle of a quiet night. She couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t turn it off, couldn’t tell herself that it didn’t matter.
If Sam and the Special Crimes Unit hadn’t stepped in, she’d be gone—trafficked out of the country and sold to the highest bidder—or dead.
Radley was right. She wasn’t alone. She had people standing with her.
Her phone buzzed again.
You okay? Sam asked.
Probably going to be, she replied.
You WILL be.
Okay, she typed, I concede that I will.
Will you also concede that having dinner together after this is over is a good idea?
Dinner?
Yes. The meal after lunch and before bed, he replied.
And she could picture him typing rapidly, a half smile curving his lips and softening his features.
A couple of weeks ago, she’d have rebuffed the offer, but Ruby’s death had changed her.
Or, maybe, meeting Sam had.
Until she’d spent time with him, she hadn’t realized how exhausting spending time with Jarrod had been. Sure, after he’d attacked her, she’d known he was an abuser. She’d known he’d put on a pretty facade and that she’d fallen for it. But she hadn’t realized that she’d been putting on an act, too. She hadn’t realized how hard she’d had to work to feel happy around him, or how easily she’d allowed herself to see the world through his distorted view.
And dinner after this was over? It wasn’t a lifetime commitment or a vow of undying loyalty. It was simply two people sitting at a table getting to know one another.
Where would we go? she typed before she could talk herself out of it.
Anywhere that makes you smile.
That would be just about any place where I’m not being kidnapped, shot at or burned alive.
Then probably not anywhere in Newcastle. Which limits my choices to any other place on earth. It’ll take time, but I’ll figure something out. See you in a few hours.
His response made her smile, and she knew he’d intended it to. Sam looked tough and intimidating, but he had a good heart. One that she couldn’t help being attracted to.
Ruby would have loved that.
She’d have loved knowing that Ella had finally found someone who chased the bad memories so far down into her mind that new ones could be formed. She’d have loved hearing every detail of the relationship, and she would have asked a million questions that she’d have demanded Ella answer. She would have played mother and father and concerned elder sister, and then she’d have given the relationship her stamp of approval, because she would have met Sam and loved him.
Ella blinked back tears, dropping the phone into her bag and leaning her head against the seat. She missed Ruby more than she could express.
But, if she let herself, she could feel her presence, see her broad grin and bright eyes, and she could r
emember that they weren’t separated forever. They’d just said goodbye for a little while.
ELEVEN
A week after she’d arrived at the safe house, Ella was six-days past ready to leave.
She was bored, restless and ready to go home, but Sam and his coworkers weren’t ready to let her. They’d spent the past week working diligently to find answers to Ruby’s death and to Ella’s kidnapping. They had a few leads and a little evidence, but not enough of either. Until they found more, Ella was stuck in a huge rental cabin in the middle of the Maine wilderness. If she’d been able to walk outside, it wouldn’t have been that bad, but she was confined to the four walls of the structure.
Just to be safe. Sam had said that dozens of times. The words had been repeated even more by Wren, Honor and Radley. She understood their concern, but she was ready to go home, get back to her routine and move on with her life.
She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. One a.m., and she was awake again.
She walked to the window, opening the curtains and looking out into the darkness. Exterior lights illuminated the manicured yard. Beyond that patch of cut grass, trees stood side by side—silent sentries standing guard against an unseen threat.
She let the curtains fall back into place and tried to still her mind, empty her thoughts and free herself from worries so that she could sleep.
She hated this time of morning more than any other. Every creak of floorboards, every soft tap of the wind against the window, every sound made her heart jump. She’d broken up with Jarrod on a night like this. A night when everything seemed safe and normal. A night when she could hear the wind whistling beneath the eaves of her house and the muted sound of traffic through the windows.
She shuddered, checking the lock on the windows and then walking out into the hall. She knew she didn’t have to check the door locks. She knew that Sam’s team had handled it. Just like they had every night since she’d arrived.
She knew it, but she wanted to check anyway.
Just in case.
She walked through a wide hallway, careful to avoid a few floorboards that she knew creaked. She didn’t want to wake anyone. She sure didn’t want to explain why she planned to check the locks in a safe house.
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