by Kate Morris
“What happened? Find him?” she asks with hope and immediately knows they haven’t by the pissed off expression on Cory’s face.
“I was just telling them,” he says, “we found ATV and truck tracks that led to the edge of a woods where they must’ve ditched off and went on foot.”
“They?” she asks for clarification.
“Yeah, three sets of tracks.”
“Wow, how’d that happen when Derek and Dave’s man were both watching from the air with drones?”
He shrugs. “Not sure. That’s what we’ve been trying to figure out. Dave said that one of his men found the car dealer in the learning center and took him hostage. Now that man is dead. Someone might’ve helped. We’re not sure.”
John takes out a map, and they start planning. Within ten minutes, she and her husband are on the road to look for the car dealer, and Kelly is on his way home to the farm. Cory is taking an ATV, as well as Simon and will circle around to the other side of where they are guessing the woods lets out. John is driving them west of the property into a neighborhood where they will have to canvas it slowly and check for signs of life in every home there.
“I just feel like Simon does, that someone is feeding this guy information. He’s always one step ahead of us,” Reagan says as John drives.
“Yeah, I know,” he agrees.
“Oh,” she says with surprise. “Who do you think it could be?”
He shrugs and turns right into the neighborhood. “Pay attention. This could be where he’s hiding.”
“Got it,” Reagan says and watches out the windows as he continues driving.
“Not sure who it could be, babe,” he answers, idling in front of a two-story home. “I’m starting to form some theories, but I’m not a hundred percent sure yet.”
He drives further into the neighborhood and stops in front of another home.
“See something?” she whispers.
“I thought maybe but no.”
“Who is your theory based around?”
He looks over at her and shrugs. “People keep referring to this other mystery person as the president. It just seems odd that the person who’s supposed to be coming here to confront your father is also calling himself the president.”
“Well, technically, he is the President,” Reagan says. “There wasn’t anyone else who could be. Or it sounded that way when Robert explained it.”
“Except he sounds like a psychopath.”
“Yes, there’s that,” she jokes as John pulls up to another home and around back. It is the last house in the cul-de-sac street they are on. “If Robert is right and this guy is coming here, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Let’s hope he’s wrong because it sounds like he might already be here.”
“How could he know what’s going on with our plans, though?” Reagan asks.
“Could be someone in our inner circle, someone in town or one of Robert’s men. I don’t know. Hard telling at this point without more information.”
“How should we go about finding out?”
They keep driving through the neighborhood, occasionally stopping to peer into houses. John even gets out a few times and looks in windows.
“We need to set a trap, drop information here and there and see what happens,” he explains. “If someone is leaking our plans and helped the car dealer get out, then we set him or her up with false info and see if we can’t trap them both.”
“It could work,” she agrees as he backs out of a home’s cement drive and onto the debris-covered road.
“Or we just start randomly waterboarding people,” he says.
Reagan laughs. “Also could work.”
Static on the radio followed by Cory’s voice draws their attention. “John, I’ve got something you should see.”
“Location, over,” John requests and gets an immediate response. “We’ll be right there. Give me ten.”
“Roger,” Cory replies.
He speeds to their location, and together they hike into the woods and meet up with Cory and Simon. Two men are lying dead on their backs.
Simon tells them, “Cory tracked them here. We found them this way.”
Their bodies are behind a thicket of brush and are half covered in fallen branches from the forest floor.
“Looks like someone was trying to hide their bodies,” Reagan notes. “These are my father’s men.”
“Exactly,” Cory agrees. “And both shot point blank. They’ve even stayed on the farm. Cam was shot in the chest and the other- I don’t remember his name- one to the forehead.”
“Aaron,” Simon reminds him. “He was nice. I was just talking to him out at the barn the other day.”
“Think these two men were helping the car dealer? Think they were the moles?” Reagan asks.
John shakes his head. “No, doesn’t make sense. Why would he kill them now if they were helping him? These men were executed.”
“Maybe they followed the car dealer out here and got flanked,” Simon suggests.
Cory shakes his head, “They were both Marines. Seems unlikely. The car dealer was just a spoiled rich kid his whole life from everything I’ve read about him. His dad owned the biggest dealership in Tennessee, and he inherited it. Also got into bed with some crooked politicians, too.”
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about that asshole now,” Reagan notes of the dead senator.
“But I got the impression that the senator was the leader and the car dealer was more of his pawn,” Simon questions. “Seems weird that he was the one who got out. Don’t you think the senator would’ve had the more concrete escape plan or contingencies set up to get himself out of there in case of an attack?”
“Maybe the car dealer double-crossed him,” John suggests.
“At least we can tell Parker we found his men,” Cory says. “And don’t forget Raj I told you guys about. Now we’ve got four dead men of Robert’s that we’re going to need to answer to him about.”
“Don’t tell him or Parker yet,” John says quickly. “Let’s just let this play out. We don’t know what’s going on yet, so let’s keep this to just our family. Whoever the mole is, it wasn’t these two, and it’s not us.”
“Got it,” Simon says with a nod.
“Find anything else?” John asks.
“Not yet,” Cory tells them. “We’ve been all through these woods and ran a track about five miles east on the roads. Nothing. I’m starting to think the car dealer had a solid backup plan with help and got out. He must’ve had a car waiting for him just outside the woods and made it to it. Maybe these guys found him on the way there, and that’s how they got shot.”
“Who knows?” Reagan ponders with growing agitation. She thought last night was going to end it with them for good.
“I’m taking Reagan home now,” John states “Finish up and head back to the farm. We need to figure out where this idiot could be hiding. We’ll call everyone over for a meeting later today.”
“Yes, sir,” they both answer in unison.
She rests her head on her husband’s shoulder on the ride home to the farm. He is quiet, pensive, and Reagan leaves him to his own thoughts because she knows he needs some space to figure this out. One way or another, they still need to find the car dealer before he regroups and starts this hell all over again.
Chapter Twenty-four
Sam
She awakens the next morning to construction noise outside her bedroom window in the crash house in town. Her uncle had also stayed last night, and she heard Simon and Cory come in late. Sam pulls on clean clothing, having showered last night. However, her hair is tousled and standing on end, so she pulls it back into a braid.
After she has dressed, Sam makes her bed and leaves her room in the hopes of finding breakfast. She hadn’t had time for food yesterday, so this morning she is famished. Trying not to wake the whole house since she’s not entirely sure who all is still in it or asleep, Sam tiptoes downstairs toward th
e kitchen. As she passes through the living room, someone’s deep breathing lets her know they are asleep on the sofa. A peek over the back reveals Simon. He is shirtless, wearing dirty cotton khakis and has one arm flung over his head. She tries not to stare as the first rays of light filter through the windows beyond him. However, a dark spot in the middle of his chest catches her eye. It is a terrible bruise, and one that she is not sure how he would’ve obtained during battle. She knows of Cory’s injury because she’d been the one to butterfly bandage it.
Almost as if he knows intuitively that someone is standing over him in his sleep, Simon’s eyes pop open, and he startles. His hand reaches down for his rifle.
“It’s just me!” she whispers. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Simon springs to a sitting position and runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry. Little jumpy.”
Sam smiles with sympathy. “If you weren’t after what you guys went through the other night, I’d be more surprised.”
He nods and swings his legs over to stand. The house is warm because the stove in the kitchen has been lit. The door is open, and she can still see embers glowing within it.
“Go back to sleep, Simon,” she encourages. “I was just grabbing food before heading out.”
“No, I’m done.”
He turns to face her as Sam rounds the sofa to walk over to him.
“I’m gonna go so you can go back to sleep.”
He reaches out and touches her arm to stay her. “No, I won’t go back to sleep. I’ve slept enough already.”
“When did you get in?”
He scratches at the blondish-red hair on his chest and then runs a hand through his hair again, leaving it standing on end. He looks like a little boy trapped in an adult man’s muscular body.
“Um, not sure, around two I think,” he answers.
“What happened here?” she asks and touches his bare chest where the dark bruise is an angry purple and blue.
Simon at once realizes that he is shirtless and grabs his discarded, long-sleeved white t-shirt from the stand and pulls it over his head. Then he pushes up the sleeves nearly to his elbows.
“Shot,” he answers as he tucks his filthy shirt into his khakis.
His sense of propriety almost makes her smile, except that he said his injury was from being shot. “What? Shot?”
“Yes, but I was wearing a vest.”
“Oh, my goodness, Simon. Are you ok?”
He grins crookedly and pulls on his eyeglasses. “Yes, of course. I was wearing my vest. It definitely stung and kicked the wind out of me for a minute, but I’m fine.”
This hits hard. Sam feels as if she can’t find a breath.
“What?” he asks and places a hand gently on the outside of her shoulder.
“Nothing,” she answers softly and gets a look from him that lets her know he will only repeat his question if she doesn’t tell him. “It’s just that you could’ve been killed. If you hadn’t worn that vest, you would’ve been killed for sure. That’s a point-blank round to the center of your chest. You would’ve died.”
“But I didn’t,” he asserts and squeezes her shoulder.
She nods nervously and bites her lower lip. Then Sam shakes her head at the ideas and feelings sweeping over her. They are too much to bear.
“Look, I’m fine,” he says, trying to make her feel better. “We all are. No holes.”
“That’s not funny,” she retorts with a scowl.
“Sorry,” Simon apologizes and follows her to the kitchen.
Someone from town, probably the sheriff’s wife, has brought them a basket of food. Inside she finds homemade granola, canned pears, fresh apples, a loaf of bread that looks like it could be a sweet bread like banana or zucchini, and a breakfast casserole that’s still warm. On top of the stove is a carafe of hot coffee, which smells up the whole house and reminds her of her youth. Simon takes down two plates as she lays things out and begins serving them. He slices the bread without being prompted. They sit at the small dining table in the kitchen and eat in silence as she contemplates the possibilities that losing one of the family members would represent, especially Simon.
“Are you coming to the farm later?” Simon asks and pours her a small glass of milk since he knows she does not drink coffee. For himself, he pours a mug of coffee and adds a touch of milk.
“I guess so. Uncle Scott wants to come out to talk with Grandpa about the new kids we’ll all be taking in and the Scarlet Fever. He’s worried it will spread again.”
“Also, they’re having a meeting about what’s been going on,” Simon tells her.
“Did you guys find him yet?”
“No, not yet,” he says and pauses.
“What is it?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s just odd that the guy got away. We managed to overrun and destroy an entire compound full of hundreds of armed men, and still, this jerk gets away? Doesn’t add up.”
“I know,” Sam says before taking a bite of the delicious bread, which she now realizes is blueberry. Whoever made it should get some sort of medal of achievement. “I just want it to all go away.”
“We’re trying to make that happen,” he says. “I’m glad you’re coming to the farm, though.”
“I’m only coming because Uncle Scott wants to,” she informs him.
He lays a hand over hers just briefly before pulling back, “Either way, I’m still glad. How is your leg, by the way?”
“Oh, um, fine. Pretty much healed,” she stammers, caught off guard.
“I thought I smelled coffee,” Cory announces as he walks into the kitchen in boxer shorts and nothing else. He scratches his damp hair which causes it to drip all over his bare chest.
Simon groans, “Couldn’t get dressed?”
“At least I showered, ya’ scrub,” Cory jabs back and plops into a seat. Sam pours him a mug of coffee, leaving out the milk.
Simon’s feathers have been ruffled because he tries to wipe at the dirt on his shirt and smooth his hair.
“Thanks, kiddo. Ahh, damn, that’s good coffee,” he remarks and grabs a sausage patty and shoves it into his mouth.
“Heathen,” Simon remarks.
“Nerd,” Cory comes back with a grin.
“Hopefully, my sister will come to her senses,” Simon says with irritation.
“What do you mean?” Sam asks.
They look at each other and both mumble, “Nothing.”
“What’s going on?” she asks with open suspicion. “You’ve been acting strange.”
“Nah, that’s just how the Professor always acts,” Cory jabs again.
Simon is not amused. He glares at his friend with annoyance.
“I heard you saying you and your uncle were coming to the farm tonight?” Cory asks.
“Yep,” she answers, trying to be positive.
Cory grabs two slices of the blueberry bread, places three sausage patties and a chunk of the casserole with eggs, cheese, and onion in the middle, smashes it all together and stands.
“You kids behave now,” he says with a wink. “I got some stuff I gotta do.”
“You’re disgusting,” Simon remarks with distaste and a wrinkle of his nose at Cory’s to-go style breakfast that he takes a massive bite out of.
With a mouth full of his ‘breakfast sandwich’ he nods with a grin and mumbles something incoherent.
Sam laughs as he retreats. “You guys seem to be getting along better.”
Simon is still staring at the empty space where Cory just occupied as if he cannot believe what he just witnessed.
“What? Oh, yes,” he says distractedly. “I decided you are smarter than me and I took your advice. Thanks.”
“For what?”
“You told me to start being more understanding and sympathetic to Cory, and so I have,” he remarks casually and takes a bite of his egg casserole in a much more civilized manner than Cory and with a fork.
“Wow,” she says and pauses. “A
nd what about your sister?”
“What about Paige?” he asks nonchalantly. “Cory and I had a talk recently about their relationship.”
Sam can’t believe he’s behaving so relaxed over this issue. “So you are finding a healthy place with Cory, and you’re just ok with him dating her, or whatever they’re going to do?”
This catches his attention, and his eyes dart to hers. There is pain there, but Sam watches it fade quickly. “Marriage. I’m ok with marriage. I’m not ok with the ‘whatever’ part. It’s commitment or nothing for Cory. I’m not offering other options.”
“Really? Are you serious? You’re ok with him marrying your sister? When did this happen?”
“I said. I’ve given a lot of thought to the stuff you told me. You were right. If she makes him happy, he deserves that. And Paige deserves even more. Now, don’t get me wrong, she may not want him. That’s what she tells everyone, but if she has changed her mind, then they’ll have my blessing.”
Sam is starting to wonder if she’s actually still upstairs in bed asleep. This is some sort of strange, altered reality. She is truly floored.
“What?” he asks after a long silence where words have escaped her. “You didn’t think I could change?”
“That’s an awfully big change,” she says skeptically.
He regards her quietly, staring directly at her until Sam feels so uncomfortable she has to look away. “I can change, Samantha. You think I’m not capable of changing, but I am. I’ve done a lot of thinking, not just about Cory and Paige.”
She’s not so sure she wants to hear the rest of this.
“I’ve thought a lot about us, too. I really want to prove it to you that I’d do anything to make you happy. I don’t want to hurt you ever again. If that means you’d be happier with Henry, as much as I don’t want to think about that, then I’d have to reconcile that because I’d know you were content. I don’t think that’s what you want, though.”
“You don’t know what I want, Simon,” she says.
“That statement probably carries more truth than I’d care to admit,” he says with a gentle smile before resuming his meal.
Sam frowns and tries to finish her breakfast quickly.
