by Debra Webb
How dare he make such a statement! His suggestion that he had even the most remote concept of what she might think or feel infuriated her. “What about all those other families who want nothing more than to bury their dead? Will you take your secrets to your grave and twist the dagger once more?” She shook her head. “Maybe you are the monster they say you are. Whether you are or not, the truth can’t hurt you now. But it could help others.” Including her. Her whole life felt out of sync.
He inhaled a sharp breath. “I’m no monster. What I am is a fool. I slept in the bed with her every night and never had the vaguest idea what she was doing right under my nose. I don’t deserve to live. My blindness is inexcusable.” The craggy features of his face tightened as he visibly fought for composure. “I can’t do a thing to bring those girls back and I don’t know that the truth, if I had it to give you, would comfort their families. Dead is dead. The only good thing I accomplished was to get the three of you to safety. I wanted you to have a normal life. I didn’t want my legacy to haunt your life.” He moved his head side to side. “That may be impossible now. You shouldn’t have come here. You took too great a risk.”
Her fury exploded with a ferocity she could scarcely contain. “How can you pretend to know what’s best for me? You have no idea who I am. What about the others? My sisters. Where are they?”
“They’re alive and well,” he assured her. “Whatever you believe,” he said, his eyes watery, “my only concern is for your continued safety. That’s why I called the Colby Agency. They’re supposed to be protecting my girls.”
This announcement startled her, momentarily shoved aside the fury and the tangle of emotions funneling inside her. “What’re you talking about?” She’d sensed someone following her the past few days but she hadn’t spotted anyone. Finally, she’d decided it was her imagination. With the life-altering discoveries she’d made over the past fourteen days, she couldn’t trust her judgment or her instincts. “There’s no one protecting me.” She was perfectly capable of protecting herself.
“The only thing I ever wanted was for the three of you to be safe and happy.” The sadness in his eyes looked convincing enough. “She would’ve killed you, too. I made sure you were out of her reach. Until now. When her sentence was overturned, I had to do something. I reached out to the only people I felt could be trusted. The Colby Agency. Their reputation speaks for itself.”
A barrage of questions whirled like a cyclone inside her head. “I haven’t heard from any Colby Agency.” How could he sit there and pretend to care about her welfare?
“They’re watching you,” he promised. “Protecting you from her. Her release is the only reason I broke my silence.”
Don’t get distracted, Olivia. Don’t let him lead. Read between the lines. “You’re saying you’re innocent, but unless you have proof of that claim—”
He shook his head again. “Don’t need any proof. I’m reconciled to my fate. It’s nothing more than I deserve for being a fool. As long as my girls are safe that’s all that matters to me. I can leave this world satisfied.”
His suggestion that Clare would come after her daughters with malicious intent stretched the boundaries of credibility. “Why would she do this? Clare, I mean. She’s free. No one can touch her now.” She had nothing to gain and everything to lose.
He leaned forward. Olivia instinctively reared back before she could prevent the reaction. “She will do anything to hurt me. When she figured out I’d hidden the three of you away, she began her battle to gain her freedom. Took her twenty-some years, but she did it. Now none of you are safe with her free.”
“If she’s trying to get to me, she’s not very good at it.” Maybe Clare had been following her instead of the Colby Agency. Could a woman in her mid-fifties fresh on the street from an extended death-row confinement be that stealthy?
“If you believe nothing else,” he warned, “believe me when I say she will find a way. You’re the oldest. Find your sisters. The Colby Agency knows where they are. Do what you can to help keep them safe…like you used to do.”
Olivia went completely still inside. More of those images and sounds from her dreams surfaced.
“Don’t let her do what she tried to do when you were babies. She’s evil. Pure evil, Olivia. She won’t stop until you’re all dead and I’m in hell where she wanted me all along.”
Chapter Two
Russell St. James waited well outside the long entry and gate that barred admittance to Polunsky Prison. He’d left his car a considerable distance from the entrance to avoid being spotted by Olivia Westfield, aka Olivia Barker. Based on her movements the past twelve days, she clearly sensed she was being followed. He’d had to take extreme care with his surveillance. The woman was no fool. At least, he’d thought she wasn’t until now.
This latest move was troubling. He’d already informed Victoria Colby-Camp and Simon Ruhl, head of the Colby Agency’s Houston office. All were braced for the impact of what Olivia’s visit to Rafe Barker might mean.
She had no idea the kind of danger she was in. Clare Barker and her apparent partner were now wanted as persons of interest in the murder of the ex-boyfriend of Laney Seagers, aka Lisa Barker. As well as the attempted murders of both Lucas Camp and Colby investigator Joel Hayden. Clare’s partner, Tony Weeden, would likely be deemed the prime suspect in that ongoing investigation any time now. The two were also under investigation for the abduction of Laney’s five-year-old son. Though the boy’s father, Laney’s ex-boyfriend Terrence Kingston, took the boy initially, Clare and Weeden grabbed him after the murder. The unknown variable was which of the two committed the murder. The likelihood of Kingston having been murdered before Clare and Weeden found him was highly unlikely since the child had survived the event. This was a very dangerous scenario and growing more dangerous with each passing day.
The actions of Clare and Weeden indicated a building level of desperation. That was never good. The two were obviously capable of anything and the Colby Agency could only guess at the ultimate goal of one or both.
Russ’s initial assignment had been to watch Olivia while keeping his distance. Disrupting her life had not been on his agenda. That had changed now. The risk was too great to remain at a distance. Depending on the outcome of Olivia’s abrupt visit to her father, which the agency had only confirmed was going down two hours ago, Russ was prepared to intercept Olivia and spell it all out for her. She knew more than her sisters had. Neither Laney nor youngest sister Sadie Gilmore, aka Sarah Barker, had known they were adopted.
Yesterday, Russ had followed Olivia from her home in San Antonio to just outside Livingston. She’d spent the night in a modest motel with the briefcase and one small bag she’d carried into her room. He’d gotten the adjoining room and spent several hours listening to her cell phone conversation with her boss, attorney Nelson Belden. The lady had discovered about two weeks ago that the Barkers were her biological parents. That part saved Russ the uncomfortable task of relating the news. The other side of that scenario was that she appeared bent on finding the truth about the Princess murders.
Russ removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair before settling the Stetson back in place. No question that all three of the Barker girls deserved the truth. Trouble was, right now was not a good time to start digging into the past. At least not until the danger was under control.
Denying the lady had an understandable agenda wasn’t possible. She had just learned her existence up to now was built on a foundation of untruths. Equally understandable was her adoptive parents’ reasons for keeping the ugliness of the past from her, at least in the early years. Based on the conversation he’d overheard last night Olivia was on the outs with the folks who had raised her over the well-kept secret. Oddly, she hadn’t mentioned this visit in the conversation with her boss. Whether she’d been waiting for approval or keeping it from Belden, which didn’t add up, was yet to be seen. Whatever she hoped to gain with a face-to-face with Rafe Barker, Russ feared sh
e would be vastly disappointed.
This was a volatile state of affairs and after her meeting with Barker it was only going to grow more unpredictable.
The cell phone in his hip pocket vibrated. He dragged it out and accepted the call from his boss, Simon Ruhl. “St. James.”
“A doctor’s office in Brenham was broken into early this morning. We believe Weeden may have been involved since the items taken would be useful for his gunshot injury and his white sedan was found in the area. We’re hoping to get a confirmation from the prints lifted at the scene. Neither he nor Clare has been spotted in the area and we have no reports of stolen vehicles. Either the two are laying low nearby or have borrowed a vehicle that the owner hasn’t yet reported missing. Judging by the distance and direction traveled, we feel he and Clare may be headed back to the Houston area or perhaps to Livingston.”
“I assume that means I should intercept Ms. Westfield and lay out the situation.” Sounded like the next step to Russ. Waiting any longer would only make his job more challenging. He needed to be as close to Olivia as feasible, particularly if Clare and Weeden were headed for her. The two had attempted contact with Sadie and Laney. Logic dictated that a crack at interacting with Olivia would be next.
The trouble was no one on the Colby team could guess the motive. If a simple reunion was the goal, why go about it so covertly and with the collateral damage of the past few days? From the fire at Clare’s apartment building in Copperas Cove shortly after her release, to her activities related to connecting with her two younger daughters, not the least of which was kidnaping the Laney’s son, a simple, peaceful reunion appeared to be the last thing on the woman’s mind.
“Keep your distance until she reaches her next destination,” Simon advised, hauling Russ from the worrisome musings. “Move in at that point. We need to see where she plans on taking this new step. I’ll keep you informed of what we learn here.”
“Will do.” Russ tucked his phone back into his pocket. He took one last look at the ominous gray buildings that represented the Polunsky Prison unit where Texas’s male death row inmates resided until their number was up.
He hoped Olivia understood that the man inside those walls was capable of most anything at this point. Though it appeared Weeden was working with Clare and represented the biggest threat, in reality, Weeden had served as a prison nurse and Rafe Barker had been one of his patients. The two had apparently formed a bond. It was not outside the realm of possibility that Weeden was following a plan he and Rafe had devised and Clare was nothing more than a foolish pawn. The psychiatric analysis from her prison medical records indicated the woman was not genius material but she was of average intelligence. Despite a college education, Clare Barker had been a simple woman. One whose neighbors had once thought to be kind and generous. Nothing in her psych evaluations suggested serious mental deficiencies. Withdrawn, secretive, with glimmers of paranoia. Nothing overtly violent or dramatic.
But that didn’t make her innocent. It made her a total unknown variable with an agenda that somehow involved her daughters. If Rafe could be believed, she wanted all three dead before his execution just to spite him.
Bottom line, Rafe was the one with nothing to lose. In seventeen days he would be dead. Russ hoped his goal was not to take his daughters with him using Weeden or Clare or both. And the Colby Agency.
Whether it was Rafe or Clare who represented the threat, the situation was building and an explosion was inevitable.
Russ returned to the residence where he’d parked his SUV and waited, thankful that no one was home to question his hanging out in their driveway. Every advantage was crucial.
Using compact binoculars, Russ watched the prison’s entry gate. He didn’t have to wait long until the towering blockade moved to allow a single vehicle to exit. Tan sedan. Olivia Westfield was coming out.
“What’re you going to do now, little lady?” he murmured.
Russ put the binoculars aside and started his SUV. He’d give her a few seconds’ head start and then he’d follow. A tracking device tucked beneath her rear bumper prevented any real concern about losing her. The device fed to his cell, providing her every turn as long as he didn’t allow too much distance between them. As a former Dallas cop, he’d done his share of surveillance duty. He had to admit, this was the first time he’d been detailed to watch a person of interest before the crime occurred. Most of his experience had been clocked tracking down criminals, not protecting the innocent before a threat was identified and confirmed.
He pulled out onto Farm to Market Road with her in the distance but still visible. Since she hadn’t taken her suitcase from the motel, it was a safe bet that she would return there at some point in the evening.
The distance between their vehicles diminished and he slowed accordingly. As she continued to slow a frown furrowed an annoying path across his brow. Her driving pattern thus far had been relatively fast and furious but she apparently didn’t want another speeding ticket like yesterday, because she was driving well under the speed limit.
Following her lead, Russ slowed again. What was she up to? Was she forcing him to draw closer and closer?
Then she sped up. He applied a little more pressure to the accelerator to avoid the gap between them from widening beyond a comfortable span. She surged forward, moving well past the posted speed limit. Apparently she wasn’t concerned about another speeding ticket, after all.
No more speculating, she knew he was tailing her and she wanted him to know it. Fortunately the highway was deserted save for the two of them. If the lady wanted to outdrive him she was going to have to do better than this. Flooring the accelerator, he urged his SUV forward, preserving a visual on the tan sedan. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he barreled along the road in her wake. There was no traffic for her to get lost in…no turns onto crowded streets. Just open road and the question of who would give in to the inevitable first.
Red flashed a warning. Brake lights. His right foot went
instinctively to the brake pedal, applying considerable pressure without sending his SUV fishtailing.
She hit her brakes again, harder this time. The sedan slid to a screaming crossways stop in the road.
He rammed his brake harder, burning rubber to a stop some three or four feet from the driver’s-side door. She was out of the car and stalking toward him before he’d shifted into Park.
The lady was not happy.
Russ climbed out, keeping his movements slow and steady. She wasn’t armed with firepower but she carried a canister that he suspected was pepper spray or some other unpleasant deterrent he would prefer to avoid.
“Who the hell are you?” She stopped well within range of showering him with the weapon she wielded. As if she was considering acting first and getting answers later, the fingers of her right hand tightened around the black canister.
Holding up his hands in the classic gesture of surrender, Russ offered her a congenial smile. “May I remove my ID and show you?” A smart lady wouldn’t simply take his word for it. And this one was definitely smart.
Her gaze narrowed with suspicion. “Answer the question. Who are you?” she repeated, not giving an inch and certainly not smiling. She intended that he do this her way. Smart and sassy.
“Russ St. James. I’m with the Colby Agency, a private investigations firm out of Houston.” No reason to complicate the matter with details. Simon had given him the authorization to approach, not that he’d needed it as it turned out.
The suspicion didn’t fade completely but she visibly relaxed her battle-ready stance. “I’d like to see that ID now.”
Russ removed his wallet from his hip pocket and held it out to her. “Be my guest. Make a call if you need confirmation.”
She inched close enough to snatch the wallet from his fingers. Her chin-length blondish-brown hair fell around her face as she opened his wallet and studied his credentials. Her hair a little darker than sister Laney’s, the lush brown color was accent
uated with strands of gold, giving her hair a sheen most women paid big bucks for at their favorite salons. But not the Barker girls. Sadie, the youngest, was blonder than her older sisters. They all had lavish, eye-catching manes that even cut as short as Olivia’s would not be ignored. All but Sadie had deep, rich brown eyes. Whatever warped genes carried by one or both their parents, the girls had gotten all the best traits in the looks department. All three were smart and independent.
Unlike her younger sisters, Olivia was a white-collar professional, a paralegal at a prestigious San Antonio law firm, with a wardrobe that shouted success. No jeans and cowgirl boots for her. Elegant pencil skirts and spiked high heels all the way. As conservative as her taste in clothing appeared to be with those long skirts and high-collar blouses, the way the fabric molded to her figure rocked with sensuality.
“You needn’t waste any more of your time.” She shoved the wallet back at him. “I don’t need your protection, Mr. St. James. I can take care of myself.”
Russ accepted his wallet and tucked it away. Seemed Rafe Barker had told her about his request for protection from the Colby Agency; otherwise, she would certainly have had more questions. “We should talk about that before you make your decision, Ms. Westfield,” he suggested.
She shook her head, folded her arms over her chest in finality. “I’m afraid that would be impossible. I’m not at liberty to discuss a case I’m investigating with you or anyone else.”
His instincts perked up. “You’re looking into the Princess Killer case? If so, I definitely have information you need to consider before moving forward.”
Those brown eyes narrowed once more. “I’m relatively certain you don’t have anything I don’t already know. I appreciate the offer, but I have things to do.” She squared her shoulders. “If you persist in following me, I will have no choice but to take out a restraining order. So back off.”
