Dawson's Honor (Welcome to Covendale Book 6)

by Blaze, Morgan

  Piper swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I didn’t,” she said. “I still don’t, even knowing what I do. But she did want me to find this, if she was…”

  “Dead,” Patrick finished. “And that’s what you’re going to be if you come here. Jonah, you need to meet me here, right now. Alone.”

  “All right,” Jonah said. “I’ll be there.”

  Numb with shock, Piper stared at him as he cut the call and tucked the phone in his pocket. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.”

  “I said I’d always come back.” He stood slowly without looking at her. “I don’t like this either, but Patrick is right. You can’t go to Cray’s. That place is dangerous even for me.”

  “Then why are you going?”

  “I have to. We can’t do this without Patrick.”

  “Yes, we can,” she said. “We’ve got the evidence right here. We’ll just turn it over to the sheriff—”

  “Who’s in Eddie’s pocket.”

  “The state cops, then! Jonah, please…don’t do this. Don’t leave.”

  He closed his eyes briefly. “I don’t have a choice.”

  All the strength drained from her, and she sat down hard on the edge of the bed. She watched him head for the door at a slow plod, as if the weight of the world rested on him. When he reached it, he turned a dull gaze on her and said, “You’ll be safe here.”

  “Safe,” she said. “Right.”

  “Piper…I’ll be back for you as soon as I can.”

  He might as well have slapped her goodbye.

  She was already trembling as he opened the door. When it closed with him on the other side, she bolted into the bathroom and knelt by the toilet, desperately trying to stave off the dry heaves. It didn’t work.

  Her mother. Celeste. Now Jonah. And this time, being left alone might kill her.

  * * * *

  The drive to Cray’s place seemed endless. Jonah couldn’t stop seeing the devastated look on her face, or hearing the pain in her voice as she begged him to stay. If there was any other way, he would’ve taken it. Hurting her was almost worse than death.

  But he would go back for her. No matter what happened with Patrick.

  Cray’s seemed quieter than usual from the outside, with just three cars parked randomly out front. After a quick check to make sure the lock pick was still up his sleeve, in case Lex Cray refused to let him in the back, he went inside and found the place nearly deserted. A pair of stoners at the tables, one man watching the big screen, and Lex behind the bar.

  Lex saw him coming and stood right away, his expression a mixture of anger and fear. “You here for Patrick,” he said. “Out back.” Without another word, he went to the door and unlocked it. “Same room as last time.”

  Jonah was instantly suspicious. “What’s up your ass?” he said.

  “You jes’ tell that Patrick don’t come back here.” Lex pushed the door open, and Jonah thought the old man’s hand trembled a bit. Maybe Patrick had put the fear of God in him about letting Jonah through without kicking up his usual fuss.

  He walked through the door, and Lex slammed it shut behind him.

  More uneasy by the minute, Jonah moved down the silent hallway to the second door on the left. He knocked briefly. There was no answer, so he tried the knob. The door opened.

  “Patrick?” He stepped inside, looking at the empty bed. Then he turned to the left—and froze.

  Patrick was tied to a wooden arm chair pushed against the far wall. He was shirtless and bruised, his face a bloodied mess, with half of his splayed fingers pointing in unnatural directions.

  And in the corner that wasn’t visible from the doorway, holding a gun at Patrick’s head, was Eddie Verona.

  “Jonah. Thanks for coming.” Eddie grinned and gestured with the gun. “Close that door, will you? I’m just about done with Patrick here, and then I’ve got some questions for you.”

  The broken laugh that filled the room made his stomach churn. It took a minute to realize the sound was coming from Patrick. “Don’t run.” He spoke carefully, in a rumbling wheeze that was nothing like him. “He will shoot.”

  “I know.” Jonah closed the door carefully and fixed the man with a lethal stare. “Go ahead, Eddie,” he said. “One way or another, I’m done with you.”

  This time Eddie laughed. “Oh, I’ll get around to shooting you eventually,” he said. “And I promise it’ll be a clean kill. But what I’m gonna do to you before then…well, that won’t be so clean.” His features locked in fury. “I warned you about this. And you are going to watch me hurt that pretty little thing before you die.”

  “You’ll never find her,” Jonah snarled. “And if you think I’m going to tell you—”

  “I know where she is.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “He knows,” Patrick rasped. “He’s working with—”

  Eddie’s fist flew, pounding into the bound man’s gut hard enough to crack the chair. “You keep your mouth shut, partner,” he said. “You’ll ruin the surprise.”

  Gasping, Patrick raised his head to glare at the man. “Malory,” he spat.

  “Goddamn it!” Eddie drove his knuckles directly into Patrick’s face, and then held the barrel of the gun to his forehead. “Last chance,” he said. “What did you tell them about us? Where’s the evidence?”

  Patrick loosed another awful laugh. “Go to hell, Eddie,” he said. “I’ll be there waiting for you.”

  “Well, partner, you’re gonna have a long goddamned wait.” He grinned. “Say hey to Celeste for me.”

  Eddie pulled the trigger.

  The sound was louder than thunder in the room. Jonah turned away fast, but not before he saw the splatter hit the wall. He focused on what Patrick had said about Eddie working with Malory. The lawyer. That must’ve been how he found out about Piper’s inheritance so quickly—but how could Malory know about the motel? Eddie had to be bluffing.

  He turned toward Jonah, absently wiping a few drops of blood from his face. “So,” he said. “I don’t suppose you’ll just tell me whatever it was Patrick decided to share with you and your doomed little girlfriend.”

  Jonah glared at him.

  “Didn’t think so. Well, I guess I’ll just have to ask her. The hard way.”

  “You don’t know where she is,” he said.

  “You’re right,” Eddie said. “You caught me. I have no idea she’s waiting for you at that sleazy little fleabag motel out past the strip, the one where you can rent by the hour. In room four.”

  Jonah went cold.

  “Lawyers are very resourceful.” Eddie advanced, the gun pointed at him. “Now, I didn’t understand half of what Malory was talking about, but she said something about an email and an IP address, and a motel owner who thinks he’s going to be deported if he doesn’t cooperate.” He stopped suddenly. “So we’re going to my place. And my girl’s bringing your girl along for a little party. It won’t be too hard. After all, she thinks Malory’s on her side…since she’s representing her aunt and all.”

  Fury swelled in him, obliterating everything else. Jonah stopped thinking—and acted.

  He went for the gun hand first. Eddie was too surprised to react fast enough, and he managed to get hold of his wrist and squeeze. The gun fell to the floor. Jonah kicked it away and yanked Eddie forward, at the same time bringing a fist around.

  The blow connected with a solid crack that he hoped was Eddie’s jaw breaking.

  He pounded the bastard three more times in the face, and then landed a few to his gut for good measure. By then Eddie was limp, his eyes rolled back and his mouth hanging open. He dropped the man on the floor, then spun and practically sprinted from the room, headed for his car—praying he wasn’t too late already.

  Damn it, he’d promised to come back for Piper. And he never broke a promise.

  Chapter 13

  Piper refused to panic. If Jonah said he’d come back for her, then he would. She had to believe that or she’d lose her
mind…and the will to live.

  She passed the time by packing everything up. Whatever Patrick had to say, it would have to be enough for them to do something—so she’d be ready to move when Jonah came back. She shut her laptop down and stowed the hard drive in the bag with it, tucked the thumb drives in her pocket. Then she replaced the photos and newspaper articles in the envelopes, and returned all the little stacks Jonah had made to the plastic container.

  Just as she was consolidating everything onto one bed, something on the floor caught her eye. The corner of a small piece of paper sticking out from under the nightstand. She bent to grab it and found a business card for Craig Reynolds, U.S. Marshal. There was a phone number with an extension listed, along with a cell number and email address.

  She was pretty sure U.S. marshals handled the witness protection program. This guy could have been their contact—the one they slipped. She’d bet he would be very interested in the current whereabouts of Eddie Verona. But she needed to give his real name. Eric something. She opened the storage box and went through the envelopes until she found the article on the trial. There it was…Eric Minola.

  Just as she was going for her phone, someone knocked at the door to the room.

  “Jonah?” She approached the door with vague unease—something about this seemed wrong. She’d thought he had a key. There was no response from outside, so she looked through the peephole.

  It was the lawyer.

  The woman knocked again as she watched. “Piper? It’s Malory King,” she called. “Are you in there? I found out something about your aunt that you should know.”

  Piper said nothing. This wasn’t right at all. How could Malory have found her…and why would she come here to tell her anything? She backed away slowly, her head whirling as she tried to decide how to handle this.

  There was a loud click as the lock disengaged. The door opened, and Malory walked in—with a gun pointed at her.

  “Miss Starr.” The lawyer closed the door quickly. “Why didn’t you answer? Don’t you trust me? Your aunt did.”

  “How…” Piper whispered as her stomach turned. She backed up another step toward the bed, thinking of her own gun in her backpack. Wishing she’d grabbed it at the first sign of unease. This just didn’t make sense. “Why?”

  Malory grinned. “Let’s start with how,” she said. “You answered my email, and I traced the IP address. Then I had a little chat with the motel owner. A bunch of legal mumbo-jumbo, and he thought I’d send him back to his homeland unless he cooperated, so he gave you up. And he gave me a key.”

  It was hard to look away from the gun. “So now you’re going to shoot me?” she whispered, shuffling in the direction of the bed. “I don’t understand—”

  “Don’t move.”

  Piper froze at the flat command. “What’s going on? You said my aunt trusted you.”

  “Yes. Her mistake.” Malory glanced at the collection on the bed. “She wanted to give you all that money. Eric’s money. And she wanted to put him away. So I had to kill her, and then come to this disgusting backwater town to take care of you.”

  “You killed Celeste,” she said in shaking tones.

  “Well, technically, the flunky I hired to sabotage the car killed her. I’m a lawyer, not a mechanic. But it’s all the same in the end.” Malory gave a little shrug and gestured with the gun. “You’re coming with me, sweetness,” she said. “Eric wants to have a little chat with you and your lunk of a boyfriend.”

  “Jonah.” She shivered. “What did you do to him?”

  “Not a thing. But I imagine Eric’s done plenty to him already, with a lot more to come.” Malory took a step toward her. “Let’s go. Now.”

  Oh, God. Jonah wasn’t coming back. She looked from Malory to the bed, close enough to touch—but her backpack was too far. She’d never get to the gun in time. The nearest thing was the metal lockbox. Empty now, but still fairly heavy.

  She grabbed for it, and before Malory could react brought it down as hard as she could on the woman’s outstretched arm.

  The lawyer howled. Piper dove for the backpack, but Malory was on her, one hand fisted in her hair. She was a lot stronger than she looked. Despite Piper’s struggles, she dragged her across the floor toward the gun she’d dropped.

  Piper went limp. When Malory relaxed her grip in surprise, she twisted and threw a punch that connected with the woman’s ear. This time she managed to pull away as Malory snarled a curse and held a hand to her head.

  Just as Malory lunged for the gun, the door opened—and Jonah strode in.

  The lawyer straightened with rage twisting her features. She’d gotten the gun back. She pointed it at Jonah, and said, “Welcome to the party, big boy. If you’ve hurt Eric—”

  “Save it,” he snapped. “You’ve got one chance to put that down and get out of here.”

  With the lawyer’s attention diverted, Piper backed up and grabbed her bag. Keep her busy, she thought desperately, as if Jonah could hear her thoughts. She unzipped the backpack slowly, reached in and felt for her gun. Her fingers closed around the handle.

  Malory laughed. “You’re threatening me?” she said. “Well, you’re a scary-looking beast, I’ll give you that. But I hear you have a thing against hurting women. Too bad, because I don’t have a thing against shooting men.”

  Abandoning caution, Piper drew the gun out and aimed fast. “Hey, Malory,” she said. “Jonah might have a problem hurting women…but I don’t.”

  She fired.

  The shot was louder than she expected. But her aim was true, and the bullet hit the woman’s left leg, just below the knee. Malory crumpled to the floor with a cry of pure pain.

  Piper strode over and struck her head with the butt end of the gun. She went down, and stayed down.

  “I hate lawyers,” she said.

  Before she could draw another breath, Jonah was there, drawing her into a crushing embrace. “Are you all right?” he said thickly. “Did she hurt you?”

  “I’m fine.” A brief sob escaped her, but she pushed the horror of the situation back. Now was not the time to fall apart. “You came back,” she said hoarsely. “I thought…I mean, Malory said that Eddie…”

  “I promised I would.” He looked at her with storms in his eyes. “I’ll always come back for you, Piper.”

  She shuddered. “Thank you. But maybe we should—”

  “Get out of here?” He gave her a brief, searing kiss, and stepped back. “Yes. We should.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’ll explain on the way.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and handed it to her. “Get everything we’ve got in the trunk. I’ll just move…the lawyer away from the door. Someone will call the cops eventually, because of the gun shot, but not right away.”

  Piper nodded and grabbed the plastic container, not wanting to watch Jonah drag the unconscious lawyer away. She brought it out to the car, came back for her bag—and remembered the business card.

  When Jonah emerged from the bathroom, where she guessed he’d stashed Malory, she said, “I have to make a quick call. Think I figured out what Patrick wanted to do.”

  “Good, because he never got to tell me.”

  She frowned. “Why not?”

  “Eddie killed him before he could.” Jonah grabbed Malory’s gun from where she’d dropped it and tucked it into his waistband, then walked to the window. “Hurry,” he said.

  Breathless and cold, Piper got her phone and dialed the cell number from the card. It was too late for office hours, so she’d have to hope this number was still valid.

  A man answered on the third ring. “Reynolds here.”

  “Craig Reynolds?” she said. “U.S. marshal, right?”

  Jonah raised an eyebrow at that. She nodded, and he shrugged.

  “Yes,” the man on the phone said. “Who is this?”

  “My name is Piper,” she said. “Candace Gretzel was my aunt.”

  There was a pause, and then Reynolds said,
“I’m listening.”

  “Thought you might want to know where Eric Minola is right now, and what he’s doing.”

  Reynolds swore loudly. “Is this a joke?”

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “He’s been going under the name Eddie Verona, in a town called Covendale. And he’s been busy around here. Loan sharking, assault…murder. We have all the evidence you need to prove it, too.”

  “Where? Give me an address.”

  There was an edge of fury in Reynolds’ tone. She hoped that meant the marshal would waste no time in coming here. But she had no idea where Eddie would be, so she covered the phone and said, “Jonah? Do you have an address for Eddie?”

  He frowned. “I can give you the warehouse address,” he said. “That’s where he is, usually.”

  “All right.”

  Jonah gave an address, and she repeated it to Reynolds. “Hold on,” the marshal said abruptly. He was gone for maybe thirty seconds, and then came back to say, “I’m two hours out. Leaving now. Can you be there? If it’s not safe—”

  “We will be.” She glanced at Jonah, and said. “I’d suggest bringing backup.”

  “Believe me, I will.” The marshal hung up.

  Piper tucked the phone in her pocket with a shuddering breath. “He’s on the way,” she said.

  “Craig Reynolds, U.S. marshal. He’s coming here?”

  “To the address you gave me. In two hours.” She shouldered her backpack and looked around the room, making sure she didn’t miss anything. “He wanted us to be there.”

  “At Eddie’s warehouse?” Jonah closed his eyes briefly. “We’ll try. It’s not easy sneaking up on that place. But for now, we need to just go.”

  “Agreed.”

  She followed him out to the parking lot, handed him the keys back. He opened the trunk of the car and took the plastic container out, then reached in and pulled a handle that was flush with the floor of the trunk, almost impossible to see. There was another compartment beneath it. “We’ll stow everything here,” he said. “Just in case.”