When a Secret Kills

by Lynette Eason

  He slid all the way over into the middle and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She didn’t try to question it, she simply leaned into him and let the officer fight the madness as they inched toward the front door.

  She stayed silent while her brain whirled and her arm throbbed.

  Finally, the officer motioned that it was safe to get out.

  As they climbed out of the car, Blake hovered in a protective stance on her right. Colton covered her left. Jillian wasn’t terribly worried. The shooter had done his damage for the night.

  And escaped to try again another day.

  “Nothing very helpful,” Colton muttered as he stared at the screen. They’d spent the last two hours watching the hotel security footage. Arriving back at the hotel, Colton and the others had found the media waiting behind the tape to catch anyone coming or going. Dodging them had taken no small amount of skill, but they’d managed.

  His uncle and his crew had been shuttled off to safety somewhere by the local police. CNN played a running loop of the reports with speculation that Frank Hoffman had been the target. Everything in Colton wanted to track down his uncle and question him until he got some answers. But first he had a job to do here.

  On the flat screen in front of him, the security footage played. They had good cameras and great angles. Unfortunately the gunman had kept his head low, never looking up. The baseball cap did a good job of hiding his features.

  “Watch it backward. Trace him back,” Colton suggested.

  Head of security for the hotel, Janice Dobson, complied immediately. The footage reversed and Colton pointed. “There. He’s behind the car.”

  Hunter and Katie had arrived shortly after the viewing began. Hunter said, “He’s got on a suit.”

  “He was someone in attendance with the fundraiser,” Colton said. “Have we got the guest list?”

  Katie nodded. “I’ve got it. Sent it over for background checks on everyone.”

  The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach hadn’t left since his uncle’s reaction to seeing Colton right before the shooting started. He knew it wasn’t Frank pulling the trigger. But evidence suggested he was bankrolling the man who was.

  “A nice suit and a baseball cap. Guy even has a tie on.”

  “Get a shot of that tie. Maybe someone will recognize it.”

  Katie snorted. “It’s a solid-colored tie. You know how many black suits and solid-colored ties are at those kinds of events?”

  Colton shot her a dark look, but couldn’t deny she was right.

  He looked back at the black-and-white security footage. They had a good view of the shooting, saw the whole thing unfold. They just couldn’t pinpoint the shooter’s face. The ball cap and hunched posture disguised him pretty well.

  “We’ll need the best shot you can get of him. Then we’ll go room to room asking anyone if they recognize him,” Colton said. He looked at Katie. “You want to see if anyone recognizes that tie?”

  She smirked and took the printed picture from Ms. Dobson. “I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Where’s your buddy Grayson?” Hunter asked.

  “Still at my brother’s house.” Her face flushed and Colton wondered if there was something going on there he didn’t know about. She said, “He’s extending his vacation.” She turned on her heel and he saw a small smile curve Jillian’s lips as she met the other detective’s gaze. Katie sighed and marched from the room.

  Colton looked at Jillian and raised a brow. She shrugged in silent communication and he took it to mean that he needed to mind his own business. Turning back to the video footage, he decided they’d gotten what they could. “Thanks for the help,” he said to Ms. Dobson. “We appreciate it.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you. We want this guy caught too.”

  Colton promised he would let her know. To Jillian, he asked, “Ready to call it a day?”

  “Yes.”

  Blake had been studying the footage. He leaned in and pointed. “What’s that?”

  “A piece of paper?” Hunter murmured.

  “Something fell out of his pocket?” Colton speculated. “Rewind it.”

  Ms. Dobson did.

  In slow motion, they watched the paper flutter to the ground from the man’s pocket.

  Colton looked at Hunter with satisfaction. “Fingerprints.”

  Hunter gave him a grim smile. “If it’s still there.”

  They raced from the room with Jillian and Blake right behind them. Colton arrived at the area where they’d seen the paper fall from the shooter’s jacket.

  “You see it?” Colton asked.

  Hunter grunted. “No.”

  Colton curled his fists in frustration, then stood still. “There’s no wind. Not even a hint of a breeze.”

  “You think CSU picked it up?”

  “Possibly. I’ll call Rick and find out.” Colton pulled his phone from his pocket and punched in the number for the head of the crime scene unit.

  Rick answered with a growl. “I’m still processing everything, Brady.”

  “I know. I’m not calling for results yet. Chill.”

  “I’m just kidding. What do you need?”

  “When you were processing the parking lot, did you pick up a piece of paper? It looked like it might be an invitation to one of the events going on in the hotel tonight.”

  Rick didn’t say anything for a minute and Colton pictured the man thinking, his receding hairline exposing extra wrinkles in his tanned forehead. “I don’t remember it, but maybe one of my team did. Let me check with them and get back to you.”

  “Thanks.” Colton hung up and filled Hunter in.

  “Nothing more to do here then.”

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t help the disgust. Finally a solid lead and they couldn’t find it. “We just can’t catch a break,” he muttered.

  Hunter shrugged. “No one’s died yet.”

  Shame swept over him. “True. You’re absolutely right. Guess God’s got his hand on this and I’m not saying ‘thank you’ near enough.”

  Hunter clapped him on the back. “He knows. Come on, let’s get Jillian back to the hotel room and call it a night.”

  Colton sighed. “I guess the next step in this dance is to talk to the Pikes.”

  Hunter nodded. “The Pikes and your uncle.”

  “I’ll set it up.”

  “And I want to go with you,” Jillian insisted.

  “Of course you do.”

  Thursday

  28

  Colton activated his bluetooth as he pulled into the lake house drive. He was determined to check out his uncle’s boat. Dominic’s voice came on. “Alexia and I are still here. They had to take Dad back into surgery and it’s touch and go right now.”

  “How’s Alexia handling everything?”

  “Fairly well. She’s trying to be strong for our mom, but I can tell she’s really battling to forgive the man.” A heavy sigh came over the line. “I have to admit I’m in the same boat. But hey—there’s no connection between Nicholas Tremaine and your uncle. At least none that I can find.”

  Relief darted through Colton. At least that was one positive. While Dominic talked, he walked around the side of his uncle’s house to look out over the lake. Surprise rocked him back on his heels. “I don’t believe this. It’s gone!”

  “What?”

  “The boat is gone.”

  “Your uncle’s?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You think he moved it because he had it freshly painted?”

  “How would he know—” He broke off as he remembered his conversation with his aunt. “I asked Aunt Elizabeth if Frank had had the boat painted recently.”

  “You think she told him?”

  Sorrow, regret, anger, and frustration swirled inside him. “What else am I supposed to think?”

  “We need to talk to your uncle ASAP.”

  “Tell me about it.” But one didn’t just send a couple of uniforms to bring in
a high-profile politician. He’d have to get the highest brass in the department and probably involve the feds too. No, he needed absolute, solid evidence before that happened. And he didn’t have that. Was he even being objective about this? And how would he ever face his mom again? If he was involved in destroying his mother’s brother, their already-strained relationship would most likely be severed. Colton swallowed hard as he processed exactly how this would affect his family.

  His phone beeped and he looked at the screen. “Hey, let me get this other call. It’s Rick. Just take care of your dad. We’ve got this covered.”

  “All right. Let me know when you find the boat.”

  Colton clicked over to the other line. “Hey, Rick.”

  “Colton, how would you like to know what we’ve got so far?”

  “Lay it on me.”

  He listened as Rick ran down the evidence he’d finished processing. “Found your piece of paper from last night.”

  “What’s on it?”

  “It was an invitation. Right now I’ve got fingerprints of a woman by the name of Celia Brown, the one who mailed the invitations. Another partial print I haven’t identified yet and a couple of smudges. Sorry, not much here.”

  “Well, we’ve got the guest list and everyone who showed up. We’ve got officers working those names.” Colton rubbed a hand down his cheek as he thought about the time that would take.

  “Good.” Rick paused. “Your shooter seems pretty determined.”

  “I know. All these attempts. It’s amazing she’s still alive. God’s really having to keep his protection around her.”

  Rick grunted. “Whatever the case, we haven’t got much of anything that’s going to tie us to the person after Jillian. Your best shot is the DNA sample of the blood on the drive. Get me a suspect to match it to.”

  Colton blew out a breath. “Right.”

  Rick hung up and Colton stared at the dock where the boat was supposed to be. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “What have you done, Uncle Frank?”

  10:04 AM

  Colton stepped inside his captain’s office and sat down with a sigh.

  “What’s on your mind, Brady?”

  Colton rubbed a hand down his face, then laced his fingers together in front of him. “I’ve got a problem.”

  “I don’t like problems. I’m too close to retirement and I don’t want any problems for the next two months.”

  “Yeah, me neither. But you’re going to have to help me with this one.”

  Murdoch’s silvery mustache quivered. “I’m not letting you out of going to Rick’s seminar.”

  Colton blinked, then choked on a chuckle. “Ah. Right.”

  “Not even for a set of World Series tickets.”

  Colton froze and narrowed his eyes. “Who’s the blabbermouth?”

  “I have my sources.”

  Colton pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Then Murdoch said, “All right, lay it on me.”

  Colton’s frown returned. “I have a report from an eyewitness that our former governor didn’t die in a car wreck ten years ago. She says she saw him murdered.”

  The captain barked a short laugh. “What psych ward did she escape from?”

  Colton held the man’s gaze. “I believe her.”

  Murdoch’s eyes widened. Then hardened. “Go on.”

  Colton gave him the details. Before he was finished, the captain was pacing from one end of his office to the other. When he reached the far window, he spun and said, “You have any proof?”

  Colton hesitated. “No, but I have a way to get it—only you’re probably not going to like it.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  Colton gave him a small smile and explained what he needed. In the middle of his captain’s choking, Colton’s phone buzzed. He stood and slipped it from his pocket. “Hello?”

  “Hello, son.”

  “Uncle Frank.” Surprise lifted his right brow. He hadn’t checked the caller ID before answering the phone. “Are you all right after last night? You disappeared pretty fast after the bullets started flying.”

  “Security got me and the whole campaign crew out of there lightning fast.”

  “You’ve got a good team working for you.”

  “Indeed I do.”

  “But that’s not what you called about.”

  A short silence echoed across the line, then his uncle said, “I guess we need to have a chat.”

  “I guess we do.”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking, Colton.”

  This time Colton was quiet for a few seconds while he debated whether or not he believed the man. “Then let’s talk it out and you can tell me exactly what it is.”

  “I’d like the chance to do that.”

  “When?”

  “Now?”

  Colton hesitated. He wanted to see the Pikes first, get their story, before he talked with Frank. The truth was a slippery thing these days, and he needed every advantage. “I’ve got a stop I have to make first.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To question another witness.”

  “From last night?”

  “No.” Colton shifted. “Sorry, Uncle Frank, but you know I can’t discuss this with you. Where do you want to meet?”

  “My office?”

  “At your house or the Capitol?”

  “Never mind. It’s about 10:30 now. How long will your appointment take?”

  Colton thought about it. “I’m not sure. I have the stop to make. Then probably an hour, hour and a half, with the witness. Can you do a late lunch?”

  “1:00 at The Blue Marlin on Lincoln Street?”

  “See you there.”

  Colton hung up to find his captain staring at him. “Any other problems you need to let me in on?”

  A sigh left him. “I’m probably going to have to take myself off this case.”

  His captain lifted a brow. “Why’s that?”

  “Because if the evidence points in the direction it seems to be pointing, it’s going to be a conflict of interest for me to continue.”

  “How’s that evidence pointing now?”

  Colton met the man’s eyes. “What do you think?”

  “You have no proof indicating your uncle was involved in anything illegal?”

  “Not a speck of it. Just . . . suspicions.” And a missing boat.

  “Then you don’t have to recuse yourself yet, but the moment you do—”

  “I know. As soon as I do, I’ll remove myself, that’s a promise.”

  “See that you keep it. I’ll start your order.”

  Colton called the Pikes from the hotel. “I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes.”

  Jillian walked out of her room and Colton blinked at the sight. He’d gotten kind of used to seeing her as a brunette. But he couldn’t deny the effect she had on him no matter what she looked like. She had her blond curls pulled up in a scrunchy and was wearing a shirt he recognized as Serena’s.

  She planted her hands on her hips, wincing as her left hand made contact, and asked, “Where are we going?”

  Colton sighed. “Jillian, please let me handle this.”

  “I am. But I can’t be left behind. I need to go with you.”

  “It’s too dangerous, Jillian.”

  “Colton . . .”

  He stared at her when she stopped. “What?”

  Her lips twisted and she studied him. “I’m sorry.”

  That caught his attention. “About what?”

  Her eyes slid from his. “Everything. Leaving. Not getting in touch after I left, coming back . . .” She waved a hand as she ran out of words.

  Colton felt the familiar shaft of pain he’d lived with for ten years. “I get it, Jillian. I don’t like it, but you may have saved your life by doing what you did.” He shook his head. “It’s in the past. Let’s leave it there.”

  She opened her mouth as though to argue—or say something else. Then she seemed to think
better of it and said, “So, you’re okay with me going to the Pikes’?”

  Colton thought about it. “Maybe. I don’t know. If you stay here, we’ll need security at the hotel—which we have with Blake, and I can get Slade to come over. I don’t like the idea of you going to the Pikes’ house.”

  “You think I’ll bring danger to them?”

  “If whoever is after you sees you, yes, maybe.”

  She winced. “I definitely don’t want to do that.”

  “Then again,” Blake said from the door to the other bedroom, “if somehow whoever is after Jillian has discovered she’s here at the hotel, he could just be waiting for you to leave to strike.”

  Colton lifted a brow. “So you think she should come?”

  The man hesitated. “I think there’s safety in numbers.”

  Colton shot a pointed look at Jillian’s left arm. “He almost got her last night in a crowd of people.”

  “True.” Blake ran a hand over his freshly shaven jaw. “He’s getting desperate.”

  “Which makes him incredibly dangerous.” He looked at Jillian. “I think you’d be safer here.” He paused. “Then again, I thought you’d be safe at the lake house.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes as he thought. “No,” he finally said. “You have to stay here with Blake. We simply can’t take the chance on you putting the Pikes in danger.”

  Jillian frowned. “Fine, but I don’t like it.”

  Colton gave her a sad smile. “We’re not in this to keep you happy, Jilly, we’re in it to keep you safe.”

  29

  After Colton and Hunter left, Jillian stared out the hotel window as she processed her racing thoughts. She’d slept little the night before, tossing and turning, dreaming about Meg falling into the hands of the people who were determined to kill her and keep her quiet.

  But she’d told.

  She’d shared her story with people who believed her, they just needed time to prove it. And that was the reason she knew she was still a target. She was the one who’d seen the murder. An eyewitness to something that had been covered up for a decade. And now she was here to shed the light, to expose the truth.