by Liliana Hart
Jack nodded. “Only Brett’s bike looks just like yours.”
“Yeah,” Vaughn said. “Just like mine.”
I could see the guilt on his face, and I knew he was thinking if he’d only gotten a different bike, a different color…or something. Then maybe Brett would still be alive.
“What about Adam’s relationship with Leslie Carron?” Jack asked. “When we questioned him this morning he said you weren’t interested in each other romantically.”
“Oh, he’s interested,” Vaughn said. “But Adam is still in the screw-anything-that-moves phase. I have no desire to be on the sexual merry-go-round. I want to settle down, have a family. And that’s the last thing he wants.”
“Ginny Grant?” Jack asked.
Vaughn scoffed. “Women, men…it makes no difference to Adam as long as you want to have fun. Ginny is basically the female version of Adam, so they tend to circle back around to each other.”
“Who else does he play with?” I asked.
“In our current group? Vaughn asked. “All the single women except Zoe Krantz. She’s a ballbuster. He and Leslie dated a few months exclusively, but I think she did it to make Benji jealous. And he had a brief fling with Gloria Padgett that everyone knows about but Mitch.”
“Oh, he knows,” Jack’s mother said. “Your father was the one who told me about it. He said it was making the rounds on the golf course one day.”
“Huh,” Vaughn said. “Interesting.”
“And there’s no tension between Adam and Mitch?” I asked.
“Not that I can tell,” Vaughn said. “Business as usual.”
“What about the men?” Jack asked.
Vaughn blew out a breath. “Most of the club is strictly hetero, but Adam got Benji to swing as long as Leslie was in the mix. Benji is obsessed with Leslie. He’d lie naked on broken glass if she told him to.”
Jack’s mother had gotten up from her seat and moved to the board so she could see it better and then she gasped. “You’re talking about Leslie Carron?” she asked.
“Yeah, you know her?” Vaughn asked.
“She’s the one! She’s the one who complained about me to the board and got us kicked out.” Jeri’s face was scarlet with rage. “She acts all prim and proper like she’s the Queen of England in her uptight suits, and then she makes passive-aggressive statements on how we could change things or do them better. And then she’ll donate money and we’ll get a memo announcing the changes she suggested. Maybe she’s sleeping with everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if she voted for Floyd. Trash recognizes trash in my opinion.”
My lips twitched, and I covered my mouth with my hand so she wouldn’t see my smile and think I was making fun of her.
“If I could cut in,” Carver said. “Magnolia and I were just getting to the good stuff when the two of you walked in. It’s funny you should mention this love triangle because Leslie Carron is the project manager for Watermark Real Estate Developers. Which probably means nothing to you, except that Watermark is one of the companies I told you about yesterday who is buying up land in King George. And Watermark is owned by Trident.”
“And Trident is owned by AvantGuard,” Jack said.
“Bingo,” Carver said. “This woman makes a nice mid-six figures a year plus bonuses. And she was a marine. I told you two of your suspects were military. As soon as AvantGaurd started popping up those were the two I focused on. She’s skilled in hand-to-hand and an expert marksman. And she’ll sell you oceanfront property while she slits your throat.”
“Doesn’t this bother you?” Vaughn asked Jack. “Don’t you see what this is? There is someone out there who hates you so much that he’s willing to make sure that not only you fail, but everyone you love fails too. This person is willing to burn King George to the ground to get to you.”
Jack put his hands in his pockets and leaned against his desk. “I guess when you put it that way. But I don’t know if it has to do with me personally, or just that I’m in the way of what they want to accomplish.”
“Either way,” Vaughn said. “It sucks. And these people need to be stopped.”
“All I can do is work within the law on my level,” Jack said. “And my level is figuring out who killed Brett Jorgenson. All of this other stuff in the periphery,” he said, waving his hand. “There’s no crime. Just inconvenience.”
“Which is why you have federal friends in very high places,” Carver said. “There are some very questionable dealings happening at AvantGuard that I think the FBI will be interested in.”
As they were talking the pieces of the puzzle started to click together. “Adam really didn’t know what we were talking about this morning when we confronted him,” I said. “But when you asked him how the bottles got into Brett’s cages something clicked. He knew it was Leslie. She’d have given him the bottles and he’d have thought nothing of it. And she’d have known about his Adderall prescription and was probably able to take what she needed without him noticing since he wasn’t taking them.”
I looked at Jack with urgency. “He knows. He knew it had to be her. That’s why he was acting so weird. He was going to confront her.”
“Let’s go,” Jack said, tossing me my phone. “Maybe we can get there in time to save Adam Taylor from being taken away in a body bag.”
I didn’t hold out much hope.
19
Jack got on the radio as soon as we got into the Tahoe and put out an APB for Adam Taylor’s Jeep and Leslie Carron’s Lexus. And then he had units dispatched to both Adam’s and Leslie’s homes.
As soon as we hit open road he hit the lights and sirens.
“Adam was just an easy target for her,” I said. “She played the game Adam wanted her to play, and she saw an opening to use him. She works for a company who always gets what they want. She’ll kill him if she can get away with it.”
“I know,” Jack said, pressing harder on the accelerator.
The call came back on the radio that Adam’s Jeep had been spotted in his driveway, but no one was answering the door and when they’d entered the premises there was no sign of anyone except his cat.
“Where would they go?” I asked.
“The bike,” Jack said and then asked into the radio, “Is there a bike on the rack of the Jeep or in his garage?”
There was silence for a few seconds before a response came back. “Negative,” the officer replied. “There’s no sign of a bicycle.”
“She took his bike?” I asked.
“Easiest and cleanest way to get rid of Adam is to make it look like an accident. She comes to meet him. He confronts her. And she somehow incapacitates him, maybe a blow to the back of the head.”
“He’s a big guy with military training,” I said.
“And her training makes his look like toddlers playing in a sandbox. She could take him down, dump him in her trunk, and then take his bike and rack it on her car.” Jack put on the brakes and did a U-turn in the middle of the road. “Then she’d take him somewhere along their regular route. But not too populated an area. She wouldn’t want anyone to find him right away.”
“Sheriff,” a woman’s voice called out.
Barbara Blanton’s voice could be recognized underwater it was so distinctive. She had a high nasal voice with a Southern drawl I’d never been completely convinced was genuine. But no matter how she talked, listening to her was like nails on a chalkboard.
“I’m here,” Jack said.
“I just got a call from Florence Babbins on my cell,” Barbara said. “She’s got a police scanner so she heard the APB go out. She likes to listen for entertainment.”
“What’d she say?” Jack said, gritting his teeth with impatience.
“She said she saw a black Lexus fitting the APB description turn onto Route 11 about five minutes ago. It caught her eye because a water bottle fell off the bike on the back of the car and into the street.”
“God bless Florence Babbins,” Jack said. “Call Vaughn and put it
on speaker.”
I did as he asked and Vaughn answered on the first ring.
“Do you have your group routes saved in your phone?” Jack asked.
“Sure,” Vaughn said. “What do you need?”
“Is there a ride that takes you on Route 11?”
“I’ll send it to your phone,” he said. “Anything else?”
“Where’s the most desolate stretch of that ride?”
“Actually, that ride will take you along County Road 36.”
“Thanks,” Jack said softly and I hung up the phone. And then he slammed his fist against the steering wheel.
“We’re not far from 36,” I told him.
“I know,” he said. “I just don’t have a good feeling about what we’re going to find when we get there.”
Jack turned off his lights and sirens and then called in the route so units could come in from all directions in case we somehow missed her.
“Will catching Leslie help Carver start an FBI investigation on AvantGuard?” I asked.
“Nope,” Jack said. “By the time we’re done here Leslie Carron won’t have a file at all. I doubt that’s even her real name anyway. Those private contractors like to pretend they’re a law unto themselves. They’re deadly and dangerous, and Leslie is one of their own. She’s a pawn, just like Adam was to her. But even the lower-level pawns are nobody to mess with. If Carver opens a bag of worms into AvantGuard, then I hope he’s prepared for the fight of his life because what he’s been through with the wreck and the surgeries is nothing.”
“Sometimes I wish we were like all the regular people out there,” I said. “Living in complete ignorance of all the horrible things that could happen in an instant.”
“Open the glove box,” Jack said. “There’s a weapon and an extra magazine, just in case.”
My fingers flexed automatically and I opened the glove box. After I’d almost been strangled by a serial killer, I’d carried a gun religiously. It went everywhere with me—from the shower to the grocery store. But after Jack and I had gotten married I’d carried it less and less, until time went by and I realized I hadn’t been carrying it at all.
My hand wrapped around the butt of the pistol and I put it in my lap.
The radio was nonstop as units gave their positions. Cole was coming from the opposite direction so we’d meet up somewhere on 36. It would take Leslie time to remove Adam’s body from the trunk and stage him. I wasn’t sure how she planned on killing him, but there were only so many ways she could do it that wouldn’t scream murder as soon as I got him on my table.
The dangerous thing about County Road 36 was that the hills were so steep it was impossible to see a car until you were cresting over a hill and down into the valley. Jack slowed his speed some, but there wasn’t much he could do but go forward and hope that we found Leslie’s black Lexus before she disposed of Adam.
I was starting to think we might be on the wrong road altogether when I saw the afternoon sun glint off metal. The black Lexus was parked at the bottom of the hill on the side of the road and the bike rack was empty, but the car was running.
Jack sped up and I searched the steep ditch for any sign of movement.
“There,” I said, seeing the bike first and then the body next to it. But not Leslie. “I don’t see her.”
Jack flipped his lights back on and parked the Tahoe haphazardly so it would be hard for her to get her car around it, and then he said, “Stay in the car.”
This was the part of the job I hated. Not for myself, but for Jack. It was one thing to know the person you loved most in the world was putting on a uniform and placing himself in danger on a daily basis. But it was another thing entirely to see it firsthand.
Jack got out of the Tahoe and had his weapon in his hand so fast I barely saw him reach for it.
“Leslie Carron,” Jack called out. “This is Sheriff Lawson. We need to ask you a few questions.”
Jack looked inside her vehicle to make sure there was no one inside and he reached in the open car window and turned off the ignition. I gripped the pistol tightly and it felt familiar and right in my hand. I watched as he moved around the back of the car and toward the ditch.
I never saw which direction she came from. A black blur barreled toward Jack and slammed into the center of his body, and then I heard his gun hit the pavement as she did something to his wrist to disarm him. But Jack had been ready for her and came up with a punch under her chin that had her reeling backward.
I’d not seen Jack fight hand to hand, not since we were kids, but clearly he’d had training somewhere along the way and I thanked God for it. Because Leslie Carron was good. Very good. It was hard to fight with that level of power and intensity for long, but they were fighting for survival.
I got on the radio and told Cole to hurry, but I wasn’t sure anyone heard me because my voice went hoarse as I saw her pull a knife from her boot and swipe across Jack’s middle. He arched his body and dodged out of the way, but I could see the slice across his shirt.
Way too close.
It was easy to see now why she made it a point to blend in and do what others were doing. Her entire body was a weapon. The knife was an extension in her hand as she sliced and Jack blocked. They were both breathing heavily and I knew at some point something would have to give. Only one would walk away.
I didn’t hear sirens and I didn’t know how far away the other units were. All I knew was that I wasn’t going to watch my husband die. I knew how to handle a weapon, and I wasn’t going to sit in the car like a wilting flower while Samurai Barbie sliced Jack to pieces.
I opened the car door, planning to take cover on the opposite side of it, but I barely had my feet on solid ground before she pivoted and flung the knife in my direction. It happened so quickly I wasn’t sure what had happened. There’d been no sting. Adrenaline had acted as a painkiller. But when I looked down I saw the flesh of my arm pinned to the car door.
Without the knife in her hand Jack moved in quickly. He was bigger and stronger and she was no match for dirty street fighting. He bulldozed her and picked her up around the waist, tossing her to the ground, but her feet came up and hit his chest as he moved to follow her down and pin her.
I couldn’t take a shot. Not without risking Jack. But if he went down I was ready to shoot every bullet I had. And then I heard the sweet sound of sirens in the distance. The hills and valleys made the echo chamber seem like they were farther away than they were because in moments they were cresting the hill and coming toward us.
The sound of help on the way must have invigorated Jack because he countered with a blow that knocked her off her feet. It was all he needed to get a knee in her back and get her subdued.
Cops were swarming from all directions, and Cole stopped to check on me as he passed by, noting the knife in my arm.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Go help him.”
My voice trembled as much as my hands, and I watched as Leslie Carron was cuffed and Jack was able to stand up. He was a mess. His clothes were sliced and torn and blood soaked his shirt and around his collar. His lip was split and bleeding and he was going to have some interesting bruises. But he was alive.
He walked toward me, his eyes on the knife and his mouth getting thinner the closer he got. He stopped a foot away from me and said, “I told you to stay in the car.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I’m not going to apologize. You wouldn’t have sat in the car if you’d been watching me getting beaten to a bloody pulp. And look on the bright side, I got the knife out of her hand. Your shirt looks like it was designed by Edward Scissorhands. You’re a mess.”
“You’re not doing so hot yourself,” he said, studying my arm and then the area behind it where the knife had embedded into the door. “It’s not too bad. You’ll have a nice scar.”
“Just what I always wanted,” I said, starting to worry when he tore off part of his tattered shirt. “Wait a sec—” But I didn’t get to finish the sentence before
he had the knife pulled out and the cloth pressed against the wound.
“You did that as payback,” I said, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
“Yep,” he said, and then he leaned down to kiss me. “Adam Taylor is still alive. He’s unconscious, but alive. We made it in time.”
“That’s something then,” I said. “Is it bad that I was hoping it was Floyd behind all of this? I’d really like to put him in jail. Or shoot him with a Taser.”
Jack chuckled. “Don’t worry about Floyd. People like him always get their due. What do you say we make a quick stop for stitches and then spend the rest of the evening letting my mother fuss over us?”
“I like that idea,” I said, getting back into the car.
“I’m glad,” he said. “Because I have a feeling that once I lie down, it might be a while before I can get up again.”
“You fought good,” I told him. “Try not to make a habit of it.”
He laughed and then groaned as he got into the Tahoe to drive us to the hospital. I couldn’t think of a better happily-ever-after. We were alive and whole. At least for now. Whatever was brewing in King George County was bigger than the two of us or the police department. Uncertainty was like a black cloud hanging over us, but we’d never turned our backs on a fight, and we’d never stopped working for those who no longer had a voice. I just prayed we weren’t collecting casualties while we were fighting a battle we might not ever win.
Epilogue
This life was still new to me.
I’d spent most of my life trying to hide from the public eye, trying to avoid gossip and probing questions. I’d learned to keep things close to the vest and that there were very few people in this world you could count on or trust.
That had been the old me who’d lived in the shadows of her parents and the life they’d chosen to live. But marriage to Jack hadn’t given me a choice on whether or not I wanted to stay in the shadows. And it made me realize that I didn’t belong there. That I had family and friends, none of which were mine by blood, but who all belonged to me by heart.
