“But—”
“We need to get you out of here,” Lieutenant Wayne chimed in. “Take you someplace safe.”
“But maybe he’ll leave me alone.” The words rang hollow in Devon’s ears. She did not for one second believe Billy would let her go. Not now that he had found her again.
“I don’t believe that, and neither do you,” Detective Salinger said, placing her hand on Devon’s arm. It was a gesture of support, but the simple touch ripped through her like lightning.
“Come on,” the lieutenant said, “let’s get you out of here.”
Detective Salinger slipped her hand from Devon’s arm, and Devon wondered if she’d imagined reluctance in the parting. She told her mind to quit playing tricks on itself, and she followed Lieutenant Wayne out front to his car, with Detective Salinger to her right and slightly behind. Devon felt like a dignitary with her own Secret Service detail. She noticed how both detectives had positioned themselves around her, how their heads were in constant motion, scanning their surroundings. She couldn’t imagine that Billy was there, waiting for her, let alone that he would try anything right in front of the police station, but she was comforted by the two detectives’ protectiveness nonetheless.
When they reached the car, Lieutenant Wayne walked around to the driver’s side while Detective Salinger opened the rear passenger-side door for Devon. As Devon was about to get in, she was overcome with a sudden feeling, one she had felt before. Like someone had walked across her grave, wasn’t that the expression? She paused, one foot inside the car, and scanned the horizon. She saw nothing, but she couldn’t shake the feeling.
“What’s wrong?” Detective Salinger asked, her hand going to the gun at her waist as she looked around with a new urgency.
“Nothing,” Devon said distantly, still searching for something she couldn’t define. She forced herself to shake off whatever was plaguing her. She felt the tension radiate off Detective Salinger’s body and touched her shoulder. “Really. It’s okay.”
The detective relaxed slightly beneath her hand. Devon gave her a small smile. “But thanks.”
As she got in the car, she could have sworn she saw the detective blush.
*
Billy walked to his car with a leisurely gait, being careful not to draw any undue attention. He had been surprised when Madison had walked out of the building flanked by one of the male detectives from the crime scene and a woman, the same woman he had watched enter the building earlier. He supposed they could be giving his daughter a ride back to her apartment, but by their protective formation as they escorted her to the car, he doubted it.
“Maddie, Maddie, what am I going to do with you?” he said to himself once he had slipped behind the wheel. She went by Devon now, but that was not her name. It could never be her name.
He watched the female he now assumed was a detective open the car door for his daughter.
So very chivalrous.
His heart sped up when Maddie didn’t immediately get into the car. He watched her head rotate slowly, as if she was looking for something.
Does she know I’m here? Watching her? Is it possible my darling daughter senses me?
He savored the adrenaline rush as Maddie looked in his direction. But after a moment her head turned, and she appeared to say something to the detective. Then she was gone, safe inside the car but not from Billy’s watchful gaze. He almost felt disappointed that she had not spotted him, but he pushed that feeling aside.
“It’s not time yet,” he said to no one. “But soon. Very soon.”
He waited for the detective’s car to pull away from the curb and for several other cars to pass before he pulled out onto the street behind them. He wondered where in the world they were taking her and, despite his impatience to finally have her so close at hand, reveled in the knowledge that the game had just gotten far more interesting. God worked in mysterious ways, indeed.
Chapter Ten
They drove in silence for the first few minutes, and Jordan was grateful for the time to think. The guilt that plagued her, that had reached a brief but sudden boiling point with Henry in the squad room, had left her feeling drained, and she couldn’t afford to feel that way. She had no idea what the next few days or even hours would hold and she needed to be at the top of her game. Little Jacob Dubois falling lifeless to the ground filled her mind’s eye. She shook her head, as if that would clear the image she had not been able to escape for fifteen months. There would be plenty of time for it to haunt her later, and she would let it, for that was her penance.
“You okay?” Henry asked quietly, attempting to respect some semblance of Jordan’s privacy.
“I’m fine.”
“You know no one thinks it was your fault except you, right?”
“Just drop it, Henry. Okay?” She couldn’t help her irritation. Henry said nothing, but she knew he understood. He always did.
She needed to get her mind back on-task. Thankfully, Devon provided the distraction she needed.
“Where are you taking me?”
Jordan turned in her seat so she could face Devon. “My house.”
Devon seemed concerned. Before she could object, Jordan said, “It’s perfectly safe, I assure you.”
“No, that’s not…I mean, I’m sure it is,” Devon said quickly. “But it’s your house. I don’t want you putting it at risk. Not for me.”
Devon’s concern touched Jordan. “It’s fine, really. And actually, it’s my mother’s house.”
That only seemed to trouble Devon more.
“She’s not there, don’t worry. She’s gone down to Florida for a few months. She spends the winter with my aunt down there.” Devon seemed only slightly relieved.
“It’s the safest place right now,” Henry added. “We want to keep you off the grid, at least until we know more.”
Jordan watched understanding cross Devon’s face. Devon understood more than anyone how capable Billy was of finding her; she’d lived it. The usual places they would take a witness in protective custody weren’t really an option. They could take Devon to a motel, but with no prep time, they wouldn’t know the layout and couldn’t be sure such a location would be secure. No, their only real options at the moment were either her house or Henry’s, and given she would be the one with Devon twenty-four seven, her house made the most sense. Plus, she had an added security feature.
“Do you like dogs?” Jordan asked.
“Yeah, very much. I’ve never been able to have one.”
“Why not? A dog would be great protection for you.” Jordan wanted to add and might have helped you feel a little less lonely, but she held it back. It wasn’t her place to say such things. Too personal.
“Yeah, just I was moving so much, sometimes on really short notice. I worried that somehow a dog might get left behind.” Devon seemed to be debating saying more. Jordan felt the melancholy behind Devon’s words. It had to be one hell of a lonely life, never putting down roots, never allowing yourself to get close to anyone, never having a place to truly call home. Never holding on to anything for fear of losing it.
Jordan couldn’t stop herself from speaking this time. “Must have been lonely.”
Devon said nothing, smiling pensively before settling back in her seat and turning to stare out the window.
*
They pulled up to a red brick two-story house on a quiet street fifteen minutes from the police station. Daisies peeked cheerfully at Devon from flower boxes hanging from the front-porch railing. They reminded her of the house she grew up in. Her mother had loved daisies.
Devon brushed off the memory. She hadn’t thought about her mother in years, other than in the nightmares that plagued her deep in the night. They were always the same, a nearly perfect reenactment of the day her mother had died, except in Devon’s dreams, the last look her mother gave her was one of accusation.
It took her a moment to register the car door being opened for her and Detective Salinger standing beside it.
Devon got out of the car and Lieutenant Wayne was at her right side in an instant. Both detectives searched for threats, just as they had back at the police station. Seeming satisfied, the lieutenant closed the car door behind Devon and Detective Salinger led them up to the house.
The detective inserted her key smoothly into the lock, and Devon heard a soft whine as the door opened and suddenly understood the detective’s question from the car ride.
“Back up, Max. Wait.”
The German shepherd did as he was told, reversing course just enough to let the three of them through the door. He stood attentively, his big brown eyes shifting first from his master, then to Devon, and finally to Lieutenant Wayne. The dog began fidgeting uncontrollably when he saw the lieutenant, his tail wagging thunderously. Max shifted from side to side but came no closer, as if he could not contain his excitement at seeing the lieutenant but knew better than to disobey Detective Salinger’s command.
“Max, sit.” The dog sat in an instant, although his whine indicated he was not happy about it.
“You’re such a mean mom,” Lieutenant Wayne said with a chuckle. Detective Salinger rolled her eyes at him but grinned. She turned to Max, who immediately turned his attention to her. They stared at each other for a moment in some unspoken language Devon had only ever witnessed between the best-trained dogs and their owners.
“Okay.”
Max was off like a shot, bounding past Devon straight for the lieutenant, knocking her off balance in the process. Strong arms caught her as she stumbled, and she looked up to find herself nose to nose with Detective Salinger.
“Sorry about that,” she said. Her voice seemed to have dropped an octave, and it sent a shiver through Devon. “He gets excited when Henry comes to visit.”
“It’s okay,” Devon said shakily. She hoped the detective would chalk it up to the close encounter with the rambunctious pup. In truth, the slight tremor in her words had nothing to do with the dog and everything to do with feeling Detective Salinger’s hands pressing into her arms and her breath whispering across her face. Devon stood up, stepping back just out of the detective’s reach. She needed to get a little distance in order to wipe the memory of the touch from her skin.
Both women turned to find Max on his back, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as Lieutenant Wayne scratched his belly. Detective Salinger laughed.
“He missed you.”
Lieutenant Wayne smiled broadly. “Well, we men have to stick together. Don’t we boy?”
Seeming to remember there was a new person in the room, Max brought his tummy rub to an end. He rolled to his feet and approached Devon, cocking his head.
“Devon, this is Max. Max, this is Devon. She’s a friend.”
Devon moved her hand forward slowly, palm up, so as not to startle the dog. Max seemed extremely good-natured, but Devon knew that German shepherds were an intensely protective breed. The last thing she wanted to do was somehow send Max’s instincts into overdrive.
The dog leaned forward, sniffing Devon’s hand from fingertip to wrist. After a few seconds, apparently deciding he approved of his new houseguest, he began to wag his tail. He gave her palm a swift lick and stepped closer, forcing his head into Devon’s hand. Detective Salinger laughed again. Devon decided she really liked the sound of her laugh.
“Guess you pass,” Lieutenant Wayne said with a wink.
Devon knelt so she could give Max’s ears a proper scratch. “How long have you had him?”
“About a year.”
“He’s very well trained,” Devon said, standing. Max went to Detective Salinger’s side, seeking out his next head rub.
“Thanks. We work at it. Max was a present from Henry.” She ran her hand lovingly over Max’s head and he leaned in to the touch. “So I wouldn’t be alone,” she added almost absently.
Lieutenant Wayne appeared slightly startled by Detective Salinger’s admission, but said nothing. Devon got the impression that it was a rare occurrence for her to be so forthcoming, and she couldn’t help but wonder why that was.
“You have what you need for the night?” he asked, turning the conversation back to what had brought them there. Devon had nearly forgotten. For a few blissful minutes, life had seemed almost normal. She wasn’t used to it but missed the feeling immensely when it was gone.
“We should. I’m going to put Devon in my room. I’ll take Mom’s.”
“I don’t want to put you out,” Devon said, although she couldn’t imagine sleeping in Detective Salinger’s mother’s bed. It seemed so intrusive. Not that the thought of sleeping in her bed was any better.
“You’re not, I promise,” Detective Salinger said.
“Well then, I think it’s time for me to get back to work.”
“Send me whatever you get,” Detective Salinger said. “I want to lay it all out, see if we can’t figure out his next move.”
Lieutenant Wayne smiled, and Devon detected more than simple acknowledgment in the curl of his lips. The slight reddening of Detective Salinger’s cheeks confirmed it, whatever it was. Devon thought the interaction had nothing really to do with her, and yet she couldn’t help but feel she was responsible for it—for the disruption to their lives, for the danger she was putting them in, and for so many things she could detect at the edges but not fully understand. “Lieutenant—”
“Please,” he interrupted, “call me Henry. Lieutenant seems a little silly at this point, don’t you think?”
“Okay, Henry. I…” Devon wanted to apologize to him, to both of them, but she swallowed it. They had offered their help, and the least she could do was thank them for it. “Thank you.”
“Don’t you worry about any of this,” he said, as if reading her mind. He headed for the door. “Stop punishing yourself for what he’s done. They were his actions, not yours.”
Devon swallowed thickly. If he only knew.
Detective Salinger walked him to the door. “I’ll have Lawson bring your truck by later,” Henry said. “He can take a cab back to the station.”
“Be careful,” she said, handing him her car keys.
“You be careful,” he answered. “Both of you. I’m going to go see what I can dig up, see if we can’t get a lead on Mr. Montgomery. You two just stay safe.”
Detective Salinger nodded, but Henry wasn’t finished. “I mean it, Jordan. Watch your back.” His voice dropped so Devon had to strain to hear him. “I have a feeling.”
She nodded again, and Henry left. Devon couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard the detective say, So do I, as she closed the front door.
*
The first time Billy heard the Lord’s voice, he had been eight years old. His pa had been a preacher, and a good one at that. His sermons were full of fire and brimstone, righteous and poetic and utterly hypnotic. He could have the entire congregation screaming hallelujah in near-ecstasy one minute and weeping before the glory of the Lord the next.
Billy used to love hearing Pa preach. Every Sunday, Billy would get up extra early so he could finish his chores and race down to the church before anyone else got there, ensuring that he was in the front row when the service began. All the old ladies in their Sunday finery—which in West Virginia amounted to little more than a clean dress and maybe a knock-off brooch picked up at the five-and-dime—would arrive shortly after Billy, marveling at the boy’s devotion to hearing the word of God. In truth, it wasn’t the Lord’s words that had Billy up before the rooster crowed every Sunday, but the power his pa commanded when speaking them.
Billy knew that preaching was the Lord’s plan for his pa; that’s where Pa’s power came from. In that church, Matthew Montgomery was the hand of God, following the path the Lord had laid out for him and richly rewarded for his faithfulness. Billy could only hope the Lord had such a plan for him, and that one day he would be privy to it.
That day came on a Sunday like any other, while Billy was mucking out the chicken coop before dawn. He was halfway done when pain seized
his head, more pain even than when his pa whipped him in the barn with his good leather belt. Billy dropped his shovel and fell to his knees, clutching his head and praying for the Lord to take the pain away. He blacked out but never fell to the ground, as if the Lord was holding him in the palm of His hand.
A voice called out to him from the darkness, telling him that He had great plans for him, and that all would be revealed in time. The voice told him to watch for the sign, that the eagle would guide the way out of the mist. Most of all, the voice said, Billy must have faith. He would be tested, but if he remained faithful, his destiny would be fulfilled. Then a bright white light shone from a great distance, growing closer and more intense until it consumed his mind. Billy opened his eyes and found himself on his knees in the chicken coop, the shovel on the ground in front of him. Billy knew beyond all certainty it had been the Lord’s voice he heard that day. He had been given a gift, and he would not waste it. He would look for the sign and when he found it, he would go wherever it led.
True to the Lord’s word, Billy found the eagle, and it had led him down a beautiful path. He had been tested many times over the years, but he had retained his faith and now, finally, it had led him here.
“Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go,” Billy said quietly in the car, “and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you.”
Billy watched the male detective exit the house from his vantage point down the street. He watched the man get into his car and pull away, probably back to the police station or some new crime scene. It was the middle of the day, after all, and the man was most likely in the middle of his shift.
Billy waited to see if the other one or his daughter would reappear, but after half an hour, he had seen no sign of them. It appeared this was where they planned to keep his Maddie from him. Like that would stop him.
He wondered about the other one, the female cop. It seemed strange that he had not seen her at the diner. Maybe she had been late to work or had the morning off. But that didn’t seem quite right. Maybe she wasn’t even a homicide detective, but some other cop they had pulled in because she was female. Like having a female TSA agent screen a female passenger.
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