by Camy Tang
Bobby set a metal coffeepot on the wood burning stove in the corner. “Start talking, boy.”
The raspy voice made Clay feel as if he was a kid again. Bobby was no-nonsense like Martin, and yet he’d looked at Clay as if he saw him whereas Martin had seemed to look straight through him. Bobby seemed to understand Clay’s active nature and while he never actually praised Clay, he always included him on camping trips.
Clay explained about the phone call and postcard they’d received from Fiona, and then the bomb in Fiona’s Phoenix house. That made Bobby’s brows lower over his eyes, although he said nothing.
Clay told him about being followed in Phoenix, then the bomb in Joslyn’s apartment and the siege on the house in Los Angeles.
“How’d they find you in LA?” Bobby demanded.
“We think they followed us from the hospital,” Joslyn said. “My friends drove partway to LA to help us watch for a tail, but...”
“I thought we must have just missed them, or they were that good, especially if they had a three-or four-car team,” Clay said.
“You said there were only two guys at the house in LA,” Bobby said.
“I thought maybe the other cars in a multiple car team left once they knew where we were.” In Chicago, Clay had worked as one of the cars tailing someone, and there had been a few times he was dismissed once the target reached the location. “But even a four-car team would have been hard not to notice on these mountain roads, and yet they found us here.”
“When we changed clothes, I checked everything for GPS trackers even though the items were all new,” Joslyn said.
“Phones?” Bobby asked.
“Our burner phones have been with us at all times with Bluetooth and WiFi off,” Joslyn said. “And after the bomb at my place, we dumped the phones we had and got new ones. They couldn’t have followed us to LA through our phones.”
“Any other personal items?” Bobby said. “Hair clips, necklaces? Your gun holster?”
“I checked everything, including my holster, but that’s also been on me the entire time,” Joslyn said dryly.
Bobby surprised Clay by barking out a laugh. “I suppose you’re right. The car?”
“Checked before we left LA,” Clay said. “But if it was small...”
“Take my truck,” Bobby grunted.
Joslyn opened her mouth, saw the expression on Bobby’s face, then closed it.
“Thanks,” Clay said.
“It might put you in danger,” Joslyn said.
“Naw,” Bobby said. “I’ll drive it to the trailhead and leave it until you find Fiona.”
“Who else has come here looking for Fiona?” Clay asked.
“Martin,” Bobby said.
Clay was too surprised to speak for a moment. “We thought Martin would send Fiona to you.”
“What for?”
“To keep her safe,” Joslyn said.
A strange look came over Bobby’s face, as if strong emotion gripped him but his face was made of stone and he couldn’t express it. “Martin Crowley cares about two things—money and bloodline. In that order. We’re close because I’m his cousin, and I’m also the cotrustee of our grandfather’s estate. Fiona...”
“Is blood,” Clay said. “But not as important as his money.”
Bobby said nothing, but he looked grave.
“So the reason he’s looking for her has something to do with money?” Joslyn said. “He said that?”
“No,” Bobby said. “But I know him. I’ve known him all my life.”
“What did he say? When did he come?” Clay asked.
“About two weeks ago. He didn’t say much, just saw Fiona wasn’t here, and left.”
Bobby wasn’t one to ask questions, either. What was Martin’s business was Martin’s business. He’d always been that way.
Joslyn’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Who was he with?”
Clay didn’t know what that had to do with anything until Bobby said, “Nobody.”
“No bodyguards?” Clay asked. “What about his driver?”
“Nope,” Bobby said.
“Martin drove all the way here alone?” Martin never did that. He always had someone drive him so he could do work while he traveled, even if it was fifteen minutes in between stops. It was at least seven hours’ driving time between Los Angeles and north Lake Tahoe.
“I never saw that before,” Bobby admitted, “but I wasn’t about to ask him. He wouldn’t have told me if I did.”
“He’s looking for Fiona all by himself,” Clay said. “He doesn’t want his own people to know he’s looking for her.”
“Or he doesn’t want them to know where she is, if he finds her,” Joslyn said. “What’s going on? Those two men didn’t seem to be working with Martin, and he doesn’t even trust his own employees.”
“We still don’t know how Fiona got mixed up in all that,” Clay said. “We need to figure out who she’s running from. And where she’d go.”
Joslyn shook her head. “No.”
“What do you mean?”
“We do need to figure those things out, but more importantly, we have to figure out how these men are tracking us.”
“The car...”
“We borrowed it from a friend of a friend of a friend. Do you really think they managed to tag it?”
No, he didn’t.
She continued, “If we don’t lose those leeches, we can’t go looking for Fiona. Because we’ll just lead them right to her.”
TWELVE
It was three hours back to Sonoma, and the entire time, Joslyn mentally reviewed everything they had with them, and everything they’d done, trying to figure out how these men could be right on their heels.
“It’s got to be a multiple-car team tailing us,” Clay said. He had to speak louder than normal because Bobby’s truck had a massive engine that made its presence known.
“If that’s true, they could have taken us out on the freeway. There’s no one else out at this time of night.” Joslyn gestured to the empty highway, where only a few pinpricks of light could be seen from the oncoming cars in the opposite lane, and the one set of taillights ahead of them. “How long do you think it took between the time we parked in Bobby’s yard and when Met and G started up his driveway?”
“At least ten minutes. Maybe more.”
“If it was a multiple-car team, they could have gone up that driveway sooner and had the drop on us when we were walking around Bobby’s cabin.”
“But after the hospital, we changed out everything. Clothes, phones, car.”
“Maybe they planted something on us after the hospital.”
“They didn’t come in contact with us until LA,” Clay said.
Suddenly she remembered the look on Met’s face as he glanced at her just before walking into the hospital elevator. He’d been on Clay’s floor.
“Your cast,” she whispered.
“Met didn’t get into my hospital room.”
“He didn’t get in the room, but I wasn’t there when the doctor and nurse put the cast on. They asked us all to leave.”
“There’s a GPS tracker in my cast? It would fit?” He looked at his arm again. “I don’t even feel it. You’d think I would have noticed it when the nurse was casting me.”
“We know these guys are financed. They could find a GPS tracker small enough with a good enough battery.”
“We can just wait until the battery runs out, right?”
“It’s probably only broadcasting the signal once every few minutes,” Joslyn said. “The battery could last days. Weeks.”
“You want to take off my cast?”
“I couldn’t, but Shaun’s wife is a nurse.”
“Okay,” he said. “Let
’s do it.”
He was fearless. In fighting Met and G each time, he had the kind of courage she’d only read about. She began to wonder if perhaps he didn’t frighten her, like Tomas had, so much as startle her. Everything he’d done had been to protect her.
No, everything he’d done had been to help someone who could help him find his sister. There had been moments he’d looked as though he was attracted to her, but he never went any further. He backed away, or she did. It was as if both of them knew that getting involved wasn’t a good idea.
She had to remember that. She didn’t want strength, or charm, or excitement. Maybe it would be best if she went looking for someone boring, unemotional.
Except she’d never been attracted to men like that. She’d been attracted to charismatic men like Tomas. To strong, charming men like Clay.
She just didn’t trust herself anymore. Maybe she never would.
It was past midnight, but Joslyn took out her cell phone and, using her Bluetooth headset, called Liam. “I need a favor from your sister-in-law, Monica.”
“Are you guys all right?” There was an edge of alarm in his voice.
“We’re fine, we’re fine.” She should have realized he’d be worried when she asked for a nurse. “I want to take off Clay’s cast. I think maybe it’s got a GPS tracker in it.”
There was a thoughtful silence. “That’s a big maybe. You might reinjure his arm.”
“Everything we got after the hospital was new— including the cast. But the cast is the only thing we didn’t check for a tracker.”
“Okay,” Liam said finally. “I’ll call her. How far away are you?”
“About two hours.”
He groaned. “She’s going to kill me. Meet us at my dad’s house.”
“If there is a tracker, is that wise?”
“There’ll be four O’Neills with shotguns. I think it’ll be okay.”
She hung up and told Clay, who frowned fiercely. “I don’t like it.”
“I can testify that the O’Neills can take care of themselves.”
“I don’t like not knowing the kind of house and how defensible it is.”
She started listing the description, as she remembered it. “Two-story. Overhanging back deck on the second floor. Motion-sensing floodlights. About one-acre backyard, landscaped with flowers and bushes, a few trees.”
Clay surprised her by laughing. In fact, he laughed so hard that he almost folded in half where he sat on the passenger side.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded.
“Not funny. Ironic, I guess.” He snickered again. “I would’ve liked working with someone like you in Chicago.”
“Not sure that’s a compliment.”
“You’re smart, observant, logical. Concise.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Um...thanks,” she said after an awkward silence.
“Doesn’t anyone compliment you?” He looked offended for her.
When Tomas had complimented her, it was on her face, her body, her clothes, her smile. Later in the relationship, he’d complained that she was too geeky and analytical—he wanted her to be more “feminine.”
The guys in her classes either saw her as competition, or one of the guys, or both. Liam and Elisabeth saw her as herself, but they were also protective because of what she’d been through last year.
Clay...he made her feel powerful. And confident. And beautiful.
“I’m just not very good at accepting them,” she said.
“Sorry, did I embarrass you?”
She shook her head, and too late realized it looked as if she actually was embarrassed. Sometimes she was such a dork.
“You’re such a geek.” Tomas’s lip curled as he studied her.
She shoved the memory away. She never had to see him again.
Clay reached all the way over with his right hand to touch her left wrist. “Don’t rub your scar,” he said.
As usual, Joslyn hadn’t realized she was rubbing it.
But it was too late—the remembrance of Tomas had caused a chunk of ice to lodge itself in her chest. She was quiet for the rest of the drive.
When they got to Sonoma, she drove toward the O’Neill family home. Shaun and his wife, Monica, were living there and taking care of Shaun’s father, Patrick, who’d just completed his last round of chemo treatments a few months ago. Liam’s duplex rental had sustained damage last year and he’d moved into the family home while he saved up to buy some property and build a house.
Clay’s frown grew fiercer as they drove up to the house and parked in front. “I don’t like this.”
“I heard you the first ten times you said that.” Joslyn unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car.
“We’re leading those men directly to Liam’s family.” Clay slammed the door a bit harder than necessary. “If they’re like my guys were, they’ll have gotten reinforcements this time.”
“Shaun is former border patrol. Liam is ex-military. Patrick is a Vietnam War veteran. If Elisabeth is there, she has the best aim out of all of them. They’re not exactly helpless.” There were several cars parked in the large circular driveway, and she recognized the dark sedan. “And Liam called Detective Carter, too.”
He looked grudgingly appeased. Joslyn thought she knew why he was being like this—he didn’t like seeing others hurt. He didn’t want to be the reason anyone got hurt.
And that reason might be embedded in his cast.
They were all in the living room sipping coffee, the three O’Neill men, Monica, Detective Carter and Elisabeth. And another man she didn’t know. She could sense Clay tensing beside her, and she laid a gentle hand on his arm.
Monica came forward first, so Joslyn said, “Clay, this is Shaun’s wife, Monica.”
“Nice to meet you.” She shook Clay’s hand. “This is my cousin, Dr. Geoffrey Whelan,” Monica introduced the stranger. “He works at my free children’s clinic. I wasn’t comfortable taking the cast off myself, so I called him.”
Geoffrey had a calm, strong demeanor, and he shook their hands. Up close, she could see he had the slightly exotic features of someone half-Asian, just like his cousin, but Joslyn couldn’t see much of a family resemblance.
“You’re okay taking this off?” Clay half raised his cast.
There was a glint in Geoffrey’s eye. Joslyn realized that he knew Clay was testing him, challenging him. “According to Liam, you’ve been followed, attacked and shot at. If there’s a GPS tracker in that thing, I have no problem taking it out.”
“How do you take a cast off, anyway?” Joslyn asked.
“I brought some equipment from the clinic,” Geoffrey said.
“Dealt with a lot of broken bones before?” Clay asked.
“I was in Japan when the tsunami hit and I was there for several years on medical missions. Trust me, I’ve seen everything.”
That impressed Clay. He tilted his head, as if in acknowledgment.
“Clay, this is my father-in-law, Patrick.” The man shook Clay’s hand.
Then Patrick put his arm around Joslyn. “Hello, m’girl.” He had almost adopted her like one of his own children since she’d come to Sonoma to work for his son. It had helped ease the loss of her own dad. “I see you’re not staying out of trouble.”
“You should talk,” she teased him. “I heard you tried getting up on the roof last week.”
“Completely exaggerated,” he said.
Behind him, Monica shook her head violently and mouthed, Not exaggerating.
“Besides, I only wanted to watch Shaun, Liam and Brady out on the lawn. They were doing that wrestling stuff,” Patrick continued.
“You wanted to shoot the water cannon at us, Dad,” Liam said dryly. “And it’s not wrestling, it�
��s mixed martial arts.”
“Clay, here, is supposed to be pretty good.” Shaun threw some mock jabs at Clay. “We’ll wait until you’re healed up. That way you can’t claim it’s your injury when we make you tap out.”
Clay grinned. “Bring it.”
Detective Carter yawned and exited the room, followed by Geoffrey, and Monica said, “Enough trash talking. Geoff’s got to go to work in a few hours. Clay, why don’t you—”
Suddenly, the darkness outside the windows lit up in a blaze of white light. They all froze for a second.
Shaun’s brows drew low over his eyes. “The yard floodlights are motion-sensitive.”
Then a gunshot cracked through the night.
* * *
There was a small spray of sparks, and one of the outside lights went out.
“Down! Everyone down!” shouted Detective Carter. He dragged Patrick onto the floor even as he pulled out his cell phone to call for backup.
Clay moved toward Joslyn and shoved her to the ground, half covering her with his body.
“Oof! What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Stay down.” There were more bullets, and he could hear thuds against the wood of the overhanging deck.
“They’re trying to take out the outdoor floodlights attached to the deck,” Shaun said.
“Gun cabinet,” Patrick said as he crawled toward the far side of the living room. Liam and Shaun followed him, but Detective Carter crouched low and opened the glass door onto the second-story deck. He dropped to his belly and scooted to the edge, firing his gun out into the yard. “There’s four of them!” he called back to them.
There was a tinkle of glass as another floodlight went out.
Clay wanted to roar with frustration. Because he’d been in prison, he wasn’t allowed the use of a firearm. He looked around the room and spotted a massive orange handheld searchlight charging in the corner.
He dived for it, unplugged it, then darted out to the deck, crawling on his stomach next to Detective Carter. He turned on the light and a blazing white beam shone down onto the manicured lawn.
