Fatal Thrill

by Misty Evans

  Once they were in, her eyes needed a moment to adjust. Charlotte gave a quick explanation about her injured arm, Percy was introduced, and Colton and Miles locked up the door.

  Still not able to see well in the dark interior, Jaya was glad when Jon took her hand and put his arm around her waist, guiding her through one room and into another.

  This one was lit and two other men, dressed like Hunter, stared at the newcomers from a table where a map was spread. A dog rose from the corner and rushed forward, greeting Jon with enthusiasm. He crouched and ruffled its fur, kissing the flat head. “How you doin’ Nyx? I missed you.”

  Nyx. Was this a tracking dog, or possibly a pet he’d neglected to tell her about?

  The men rose with greetings and leaned across the table, Jon accepting handshakes from them. “Good to have you back in one piece,” a burly guy with reddish hair and a close-cropped beard said. “Looks like you brought help.”

  He introduced everyone to them. “Jaya, Percy, this is Rage, and that guy over there”—he pointed at the other man who sported spiky champagne-colored hair, a beard, and piercing blue eyes—“is his brother, Clash.”

  Brothers? Jaya exchanged handshakes, as did Percy. She guessed underneath the face paint and beards, they might appear to be related.

  “Rage and Clash?” Percy said. “Interesting names.”

  “Code names,” Hunter told him. “We’re Rock Stars.”

  As if that explained everything.

  The redhead dropped back into his seat. “My band is Rage Against the Machine.”

  Blondie saluted them. “The Clash, in case mine isn’t obvious.”

  “Lost my virginity listening to them,” Percy said with a grin. “My favorite band ever.”

  Clash held out a fist and Percy bumped it with his own.

  Trace and Miles rounded up chairs and the group sat at the table, eyeing the map.

  “Okay,” Jon said, blowing a deep breath. “Tell me what we’re looking at.”

  Four hundred acres, and at last count, thirty-five survivalists all making their homes there. Most had some form of security—dogs, fences, traps, and trip wires. The three most likely places kidnappers would take Finn included two Jon knew well.

  His father’s cabin, abandoned since his dad had gone to prison, and Dalton Watt’s, which had been empty for just as long.

  The third place Jon immediately X’d off the map, even though Hunter had circled it—a camper trailer near the riverhead. From his summers in the area as a kid, campers and RVs had come and gone, but this one, according to Rory had only been in that spot for the past five years and was registered to a woman named Goss. Since Jon had no prior links to the camper or woman, he knew it had to be one of the other two.

  Which made his guts crawl.

  “So here’s the deal.” He pointed at the first red circle, a part of him ready to get the weight off his chest about his father. Another wished he didn’t have to. “This is a cabin that belonged to Dalton Watt, and according to Beatrice, is still listed in his name, although the guy disappeared seven years ago. He’s a serial killer who murdered thirteen kids but framed my father for their deaths. My dad has paid the price, and so has the rest of my family.”

  The folks around the table exchanged looks, none of them expecting that news. He saw their surprise, heard the uncomfortable shifting in their chairs. Not from the men who knew him, like Hunter, Duncan, Bouchard, or Bells, but their newest members who had never worked with Jon before. They had to be wondering if he was defending his father because of blood or if he was telling the truth.

  He couldn’t offer proof, only reassurances. “There have been no active cases that suggest Watt has continued his killing spree, but he may have just gotten smarter and the bodies have yet to be found, so yeah, I know what it looks like.”

  Hunter leaned back on his heels. “Evidence?”

  “He used my father’s bow and left it at the cave where he disposed of the bodies. That was it, the only evidence. Watt and my dad were friends—Watt was with everyone around here back then. He got inside my Dad’s head, knew his routines. It wasn’t hard to set him up.”

  Silence. Jon tensed. He’d lived with this hanging over his head for too many years, never being able to clear his father’s name.

  Nyx whined and laid her head in his lap. He sank his fingers into her fur. “Look, my dad is no hero, and he’s pulled a lot of crappy shit in his time, but he isn’t a murderer, especially of kids.”

  Rage sat forward, setting his elbows on the table. “The police do any kind of investigation or did they just take the easy option?”

  “They wanted to believe it was my dad who killed those kids,” he said, digging a fingernail into the table. “Comes with the skin color and our ancestry, so they didn’t even look at anyone else. They still, to this day, believe it, since the killings stopped. No trail of bodies in seven years. But they’re wrong. Watt was—is—an extremely smart sociopath.”

  “So Watt just went on living his life here?” Moe asked from the corner where he stood with Parker.

  “He went to ground around the time I started contracting with the FBI for search and rescue. I knew he was the killer all along, but I had—have—no evidence. Not that I can take to the police, anyway. He threatened me once, back when I found the cave and bones. Told me I ruined everything and he was going to pay me back someday.”

  “And now he’s returned,” Hunter said.

  Jon nodded.

  The big man crossed his arms over his chest. “Kinda passive-aggressive, don’t you think? He frames your dad, then bugs out when you put heat on him, and now he’s kidnapped your girlfriend’s brother in order to get back at you?”

  It was a stretch, but Jon had seen and heard weirder things. “Told you he’s clever.”

  Jaya’s gaze was weighted. “You really think he’s involved with Finn’s kidnapping?”

  Under the table, he slid his hand over to hers. “I really hoped it was just a coincidence when Rory traced Finn’s phone to this spot, but Beatrice and I don’t believe in coincidences, and Rory ran Emit’s tracking program. Watt is a fourth cousin to Lorna Doyle.”

  “Nooo,” Charlotte breathed. “That witch. I knew better than to trust her, all that carrying on about Gypsies. Not only is she after the cross, she’s related to a serial killer!”

  Jon sighed. “It gets better. Mathew Fitzpatrick’s family members are descendants of the French consort who slept with that Catholic cardinal that the cross may have originated from.” It made his brain cramp trying to keep all the different threads straight. “They believe the cross, or at least the emeralds on it, belong to them, so according to the men Kieran interrogated, Lorna hired Fitzpatrick to find it.”

  Parker snorted. “This is better than reality TV.”

  “Could this be any more convoluted?” Jaya asked quietly. “What are the odds of your family and mine crossing paths like this?”

  “One in a million,” Jon said, “but it’s happening, so we have to wrap our minds around it and figure out a plan. Your dad decided to sell the cross, which he’d had all along, and contacted Fitzpatrick. Fitz was already looking for the cross because of the Doyles, and he jumped at the chance to get his hands on it.”

  Jon brought everyone up to speed on what they knew regarding the Doyles and Fitzpatrick’s scheme, and how Moreau had gotten in the middle of it and messed things up. “According to what Kieran’s interrogation provided, the Doyles figured Sean was going to find a new buyer once Fitz turned up dead and Sean got away. They had no trouble tracking Finn, since he’d returned to the States and they were betting he was good leverage to flush out Sean. Lorna contacted Watt, who came out of hiding.”

  Everyone fell silent, each turning things over in their head.

  Jon pointed at the second circle. “This is my dad’s place. It’s still in his name and has been abandoned since he went to prison. I’ve been paying the property taxes on it. Doesn’t look like much from ground le
vel, but it was built in the late 80s, and there’s 2000 square feet of living area below ground.”

  A soft whistle came from Bells. “He wasn’t messing around.”

  “The Russian threat was big at that time,” Parker said. She may have been a cognitive scientist, but she’d also been a spy. She probably knew as much about history and politics as she did about the human brain.

  “Hey, I saw Red Dawn,” Colton told her. “Everyone was scared the Russians were going to take over the world or nuke it. Take your pick.”

  “They still think that around here.” Jon’s father had certainly feared both of those scenarios. “With these survivalists, it’s all the same—nukes, Big Brother, the plague, zombies. You name it, they’re prepared for it. Survival—of anything—is the name of the game, and they don’t trust our government any more than they trust foreign ones.”

  Clash rubbed a spike of hair between his finger and thumb. “What’s this Watt guy’s MO? Got a picture of him?”

  Jon tapped at his phone. “I’m not a profiler, people, but what I know about him, and the last photo Beatrice could find, is all coming to you now. Also, a second picture where Rory did an age progression on Watt’s face so you can see what we anticipate he looks like today.”

  Jaya’s phone buzzed along with the rest of them and she tapped it to open his text. Her body stiffened and she enlarged the first photo of Watt in camo gear, holding a rifle and standing over a five-point buck.

  “Holy crap,” she whispered.

  The hair on Jon’s neck rose. Her face paled and her fingers trembled as she scrolled to the next one.

  “Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap.” Again, it was whispered as if she had lost her voice.

  “Jaya?” He reached for her. “What is it?”

  Her dark eyes were scared as they came up to meet his. “You’re sure this is him? This Watt fellow?”

  He tightened his grip on her. Nyx lifted her head from Jon’s lap and stared at Jaya. “You know him?”

  She put her head in her other hand and shut her eyes for a brief second. Her chest expanded on a sharp inhale before she looked up once more. “This man? He works at the home where my mother lives. Jon, he’s one of her aides.”

  17

  She couldn’t believe it. It really wasn’t about coincidences—it was about fate. Bad luck hung over her shoulders like a shadowy mantel, never letting her even peek at what life could be like without the O’Sullivan curse.

  “Are you sure?” Miles asked. “You’re positive this is the same guy?”

  Jon didn’t need to ask, didn’t second-guess her. He simply nodded as he worked through the scenario. “I stirred things up when I was in Good Hope last fall. Watt probably saw me, but realized I wasn’t after him because I was working with Shelby and Colton. He put two and two together with me and Jaya, so when Lorna called, that’s why he took the risk of coming out of hiding.”

  “He wanted to get back at you for screwing up his life,” Colton said. He looked at Jaya. “Your mom—does she have good days? Did she know about you and Jon and say something to Watt?”

  “Sure, I told her, but I tell her a lot of things that don’t actually register with her, you know?” Jaya thought back to the day last fall after Shelby’s ordeal when she explained to her mom and the staff that she was heading to DC for a week or two. Not that her mom had seemed to care one way or the other. “When I followed Jon to DC to make sure he was going to be all right…”

  Crud. It all made more sense now. She shook her head in disbelief and pointed at the picture showing on her screen. “He goes by Justin London in Good Hope. He must have overheard me tell Mom about Jon and figured out we had a relationship.”

  Jon’s expression was total anger. He clenched his fists. Clench-release. Clench-release.

  “Can we blow the security camera at your dad’s cabin, or tap into it and see what’s he up to?” Rage asked.

  Jon’s face went blank again, the anger stuffed deep. “The house is totally off grid, but I know all the ways to get in and out. Ways that only my dad and I know about. It’s a risk, though, because Watt will be expecting me to do just that—sneak in and take him out. He’ll be prepared.”

  “We’ve got the drone,” Trace offered. “Any way we can use it to create a distraction big enough to force him out? The entrance is above ground. We could throw in some smoke grenades, go in with overwhelming force, and take him out before he can react.”

  “Only if push comes to shove,” Jon said. “He’s too likely to have Finn booby-trapped.”

  Jaya sucked in a breath, then silently cursed herself at the expression everyone gave her. They thought it was a bad idea for her to be at the table with them. She had to harden herself and not let her emotions get in the way. “Sorry. I’m fine. Go on.”

  Percy had been quiet until now. “Jon, you know the cabin, and our perpetrator. What do you think is our best option?”

  Tap, tap, tap, his fingers beat a staccato on the tabletop. “Here’s what we have to do.”

  He laid out the facts. Their time was nearly up and they couldn’t wait until dark or watch Watt’s movements to try and grab him before he realized they were there. The bunker only had one entrance and there would be cameras. Jon knew their locations, but they had to be extremely careful not to tip Watt off by rushing.

  Jaya felt slightly numb, her mind wandering as the men walked through different breach and takedown scenarios. Nyx lay down at her feet and snored softly.

  The risk to Finn was high, no matter what they did. If Watt was as clever as Jon believed him to be, even this group of former Navy SEALs had its hands full.

  Jon turned to her. “I hate to make you do this, but…”

  She snapped out of her mind-trance. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

  “We’re going to try and draw Watt out by dangling the cross in front of him. He hates me, but he probably needs money, so the cross is a good incentive.” His hand cupped hers. “We need proof of life. Before we go any farther, we have to make sure Finn is still…alive.”

  It took a moment for his statement to sink in. “You think he’s…?”

  “No.” Jon shook his head. “Finn is Watt’s ace card. If he doesn’t have him alive, he’s of no use to us.”

  Jaya sighed. She’d seen plenty of cop shows and movies where the Feds demanded the same before meeting the kidnapper’s demands. “You want me to text this asshole and ask him to send me a picture of my brother with today’s newspaper or something?”

  “He won’t have one. What I want is for him to let Finn talk to you.”

  Her chest grew tight. Call the kidnapper? Hear the man’s voice?

  A hard chill went down her spine. God, she hated being scared. Scared sucked.

  “I know it’s an uncomfortable thing to do,” Jon reassured her. “But I know you can handle it.”

  His belief in her was mirrored in the eyes of those around the table. Even Colton’s.

  How many nights had she lain awake as a kid, worried her father would never come home? That her mom wouldn’t hold it together? That she and Finn would end up at the orphanage with Colton?

  She forced air into her lungs. This was no time to give into fear. “What do I say?”

  “We have a protocol for this,” Jon reassured her. His voice was low, soothing. “I have a script for you to read from, and I’ll be here beside you, to coach you if Watt pulls anything weird, okay?”

  The others stared at her, their gazes full of support.

  What else was there to do?

  Jaya licked her lips. “Okay. Let me read it, this script.”

  Trace handed Jon a piece of paper and Jon set it in front of her.

  Her eyes didn’t want to focus on the words, the idea of hearing Finn’s voice distracting her. He was hurt, but was it worse than before? Did he think she’d forgotten him? Was he counting down the minutes, fearing a certain death if she didn’t produce the cross?

  I’m coming, Finn. Just hold
on.

  Shoving the fear down, she blinked and forced her brain to take in the words. It helped, seeing the black and white letters. Whoever had written the script even had what to say to various scenarios—if the kidnapper said or demanded more than what they expected, she had the right responses in front of her.

  And Jon. I have him.

  “Okay.” She nodded. “Are we ready?”

  Trace handed Jon blank paper and a pen. Jon uncapped the marker and met her eyes. “I’ll make notes on this if there’s anything I want you to say that’s not on your cheat sheet. Go ahead and dial when you’re ready.”

  Punching up her contacts, she found Finn’s number and pressed the button.

  The phone rang and she hit the speaker button. Her knee bobbed with nerves.

  One, two, three. The sound blared through the room with a second ring.

  Come on, come on.

  A third jangle and no answer, the sound reverberating through her head as if the phone were between her ears rather than lying placidly on the table.

  Jaya bit her thumbnail. Please God. Don’t let Finn be…

  “Hey, it’s me,” her brother’s voice cut through her fog, making her heart lurch. “Since I didn’t answer, I must not want to talk to you. Either that or I’m sleeping, so go away. I don’t want what you’re selling and my computer doesn’t have a fucking virus so go find some other gullible douchebag to screw over. Text me like a normal person, k?”

  The voicemail beep made her spirits fall. Fear raced through her and she looked at Jon. He held up the yellow tablet and she realized he’d been writing a note.

  Go ahead. Give your demands—proof of life and then you’ll meet him at Runner’s Break.

  Runner’s Break? Her attention went to the map. Jon had marked it on there a minute ago when talking to his team. It was a point where the river made a sharp turn west.

  Gripping the table, she cleared her throat. “Justin? Or should I call you Dalton? I know who you are and I have what you want. Before we go any further, I want proof that Finn is still alive. I want to talk to him. Then I’ll bring the cross to Runner’s Break and we’ll make the exchange. Five minutes, Justin. You have five minutes to call me back or this negotiation will take a turn you don’t like. I have at least three bidders who’ll pay dearly for this cross, so consider your options wisely.”