Line of Duty

by Christy Barritt

  But then there were those emails . . . had they really been forged? It seemed so extreme. Then again, so did murder.

  The facts all collided inside his head, begging to be sorted out.

  He fixed them some coffee, and he and Abby sat on the couch together. He cut to the chase. “How could someone forge those emails?”

  “I don’t know.” Abby shook her head. “Can I see them? I don’t even know what they say.”

  He grabbed his laptop from the end table, pulled up the article, and handed the computer to her. Abby’s eyes widened before she finally squeezed them shut.

  “I am not a tech genius, but Patrick is,” she murmured. “That’s what he does for a living. Is it possible that he could have somehow tapped into my IP address and created these emails?”

  “I suppose anything is possible. But why would he try to set you up like this?”

  She rubbed the side of her coffee mug. “When all this came out and I tried to break things off with him, he threatened me. He told me that if I broke up with him, he was going to make my life miserable. I thought he was just speaking out of hurt and anger. Maybe he set me up to take the fall.”

  “But if he loved you so much, why would he do that?” Jaxon didn’t really expect Abby to have an answer. But the question remained in his mind.

  “You know that saying, if I can’t have you no one else can? Maybe this fits into that also. Patrick was obsessive and desperate. I didn’t see it until the very end. But someone who’s willing to kill their spouse in order to be with me?” Abby shook her head and pulled her sleeves over her hands. “There’s no telling what else he would do.”

  “Do you think Patrick is the Executioner?”

  She remained silent before shaking her head. “I suppose it could be a possibility, but Patrick is in his early thirties.”

  “Could this man be wearing a disguise of some sort?” Jaxon had seen stranger things before. Most people’s observation skills weren’t as strong as they’d like to believe.

  “I suppose that’s a possibility,” Abby said after a moment of thought.

  “There’s nobody else you can think of who might be responsible?”

  Abby let out a long breath, her gaze appearing fragile and distant. “I did read some articles on Theresa after all this came out. I know that a lot of people in her family were avid outdoorsmen. That doesn’t mean they’re guilty, but I do feel like whoever is behind this knows his way around the forest. This man . . . he’s not nervous. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing.”

  “He wasn’t exactly a great shot today . . . thank goodness.” Things would be a lot different right now if the man had been. Jaxon hadn’t even realized the man was close, and he considered his instincts to be finely tuned. They’d kept him—along with his men—alive on the battlefield.

  “You’re right, he wasn’t. I suppose there are hunters who are bad shots but who still enjoy the sport.” Abby shifted, pulling her legs closer to her. “I’ve had way too much time on my hands to think about the details of this. It’s almost been an obsession. That said, I still have no idea who might be behind this. I’ve come up with nothing, no one.”

  Jaxon reached forward, squeezed her hand, and then released it. “We’re going to figure out what happened here. Luke is a great detective. I know he seems intense when he’s dealing with you, but he’s a really good guy who genuinely cares about people.”

  Abby looked down at her hand—to the area Jaxon had touched. She rubbed it.

  Was she trying to erase the feel of her skin against his?

  Maybe he’d overstepped.

  Finally, she tucked her hand under her leg and said, “I believe it. I know it’s a tough position that the sheriff is in right now.”

  “I say we just lie low here for tonight and see what tomorrow has to bring.”

  “That sounds like a great idea.” As her gaze went back to the computer screen, she sucked in a breath. “Jaxon, there’s another article about me—one that tells the world I’m here in Fog Lake hiding out.”

  Jaxon’s muscles clenched. Someone in town had seen Abby and leaked that information. He prayed that more trouble didn’t come their way.

  Abby stared across the couch at Jaxon. He had released her hand, and she thought it was kind that he’d even attempted to bring some comfort to her, especially considering everything that had happened.

  As soon as he pulled his hand back into his lap, she missed his touch. She craved the brief moment of comfort he’d offered.

  Questions swirled in her head. At this point, she felt she didn’t have anything left to lose by asking them.

  “You know a lot about me, Jaxon,” Abby started. “But I hardly know anything about you.”

  His gaze met hers, an unreadable expression there. “What do you want to know?”

  “What happened to change things between you and your siblings?” Abby pulled a leg beneath her and watched Jaxon.

  His eyes widened with surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “I know it’s none of my business, but there’s obviously some tension between you and the rest of your family. I just can’t figure out why. You all seem so close.”

  His jaw flexed, and Abby was sure he wasn’t going to share any details. She probably shouldn’t have asked. But, for some reason, she had the burning desire to know.

  Just when she thought Jaxon wasn’t going to respond, he let out a deep breath and said, “When I was barely a teenager, my dad was diagnosed with cancer,” Jaxon started. “When my mom found out, she ran away with another man here in town. When my dad needed her the most—when the family needed her the most—she hit the road.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “My siblings were furious with her, and, for a while, so was I. But she’s still my mom, and, despite what she’d done, I didn’t want to end things with her. I began communicating with her without my siblings’ knowledge.”

  Facts began clicking in place in Abby’s mind. “Do they know now?”

  “To my knowledge, they don’t. It’s not that I want to keep secrets. I just want to avoid the drama of it. I totally understand where they’re coming from. I know they’ll feel betrayed when they find out. But you only get one mom in this life. I knew I had to forgive her. The anger would eat me up inside otherwise.”

  The muted tone of his voice made Abby’s heart twist with compassion. “I think that makes you the bigger person.”

  Jaxon shrugged, his gaze fixated on the flames in the fireplace. “I don’t know about that. I just know that there are a lot of things in my life that I need forgiveness for, so who am I to hold it back from somebody else?”

  Abby tilted her head, trying to convey her gratitude toward Jaxon for sharing this part of his life with her. His words contained so much wisdom. “So you still meet with her?”

  His gaze broke from the fire, and he took a sip of his coffee. “For a long time, while I was stationed overseas, it was only emails and texts. But since I came back to this area, we’ve been having a weekly lunch date. It’s been good to keep up with her.”

  “Why did you get out of the military? You seem like one of those guys who would want to be in for life.”

  “I thought I did. But all that changed with my last mission in Iraq.”

  Something cold washed over Abby. Just hearing the mellow tone in his voice brought Abby chills, even though she hadn’t heard any details yet. She didn’t ask, even though she wanted to know. If Jaxon wanted to share, then he would.

  “My men and I had been assigned to guard a terrorist leader who was giving intel to the US in exchange for his freedom. The man was vile. It wasn’t a job that I wanted to do, but when you’re in the military, you do what you’re told to do.”

  “What happened?” Abby’s mind raced as she tried to put together what he’d gone through. She pulled a pillow on her lap and waited.

  “One day while I was guarding the perimeter of the compound, the man’s wife came out. She begged me to hel
p her. When she held up her arms, her sleeves slipped down, and I saw the bruises there. I knew that she was in a dire situation.”

  Abby let out a little gasp. Though she knew how women were sometimes treated in those countries, hearing about it firsthand was still shocking.

  Jaxon continued. “I didn’t know what to do. I had been given orders, and I knew that she’d taken a huge risk by even coming out to find me. Initially, I told her that I couldn’t help. I tried to put her out of my mind and focus on my job. But, every week, she would find me. Sometimes she didn’t have to say a word. It was just a glance that she gave me as she walked past.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I finally decided I was going to risk it all to save her. I figured out a way I could sneak her onto one of our trucks as they were leaving the compound. It was risky. I could’ve lost my job. Everything was on the line. But I knew it was the right thing to do. Especially after I saw her holding her side one day. She told me that she’d dropped a plate of food, and her husband had beat her.”

  “That’s terrible.” Abby couldn’t imagine living like that.

  Yet she could.

  She knew all too well about living in fear for her life. Still, her situation felt different.

  “On the day before she was supposed to escape, her husband caught wind of what was going to happen. He was furious. I was outside the compound when I heard Nailah scream. I rushed inside, but I was too late.” His voice cracked. “She was dead. He’d beaten her to death.”

  Abby’s hand covered her mouth in horror. “So what did you do?”

  “I started to go after him, but one of my men pulled me back before I did something I’d regret. I’m not actually sure I would’ve regretted it, but it could have ruined the deal the US had with this man. And, in that country, what that man had done wasn’t a crime. It was an honor killing. It still burns me up to think about it.” Jaxon fisted his hands beside him, as if fighting unseen emotions.

  “Did anything ever happen to this man?”

  “Last I heard, he’s still an informant for the US. After that, I knew I had to get out. I couldn’t put myself in those situations again. But every day I live with the fact that I could’ve helped her.”

  Abby wanted more than anything to reach out and squeeze his arm, to offer some kind of comfort. But Jaxon was too far away, and they didn’t have that kind of relationship . . . did they? They seemed to quickly be growing close. The thought both thrilled and terrified her.

  “You were going to help her,” Abby said.

  “But I was too late. I should’ve helped her sooner.”

  Abby opened her mouth, about to say more. Before she could, a sound floated into the house.

  Someone was whistling.

  The blood left Abby’s face.

  The Executioner was whistling.

  He was here.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jaxon bristled as he rose to his feet. The Executioner was here. Outside the cabin. Taunting them.

  Jaxon grabbed his gun and tucked it into his waistband. “Abby, get in the closet and close the door. Don’t come out for anyone but me.”

  Abby reached for him, her eyes wide with fear. “But Jaxon . . .”

  “I can handle it myself.”

  Jaxon didn’t tell Abby, but she was his second chance. She was his opportunity to make things right and to not let another maniac claim an innocent life.

  “He’s trying to lure you out.” Desperation crept into Abby’s voice as she clung to his arm.

  “I can handle myself.”

  “Jaxon . . .”

  “Go in the closet. Please.”

  Abby stared at him a moment longer before nodding. She scrambled across the room and slipped behind the door and into the space where Jaxon had found her that day she’d thought the Executioner was outside. Jaxon waited until the door closed before he grabbed his gun and stepped onto the porch.

  All his senses felt alive as he glanced around him at the darkness.

  The whistling still floated through the air. The man was out there somewhere. But what was this guy’s game plan? Why had he come here, and what was he hoping to prove?

  Jaxon couldn’t make himself an easy target by just standing here. Instead, he stepped into the shadows and gripped his Glock. Was the man planning to shoot him? He obviously had a gun.

  If that was the case, he could’ve done it as soon as Jaxon stepped onto the front porch. But he hadn’t. That led Jaxon to believe the Executioner didn’t plan on killing him that way. Not today, at least.

  Slowly, Jaxon crept forward, dry leaves crinkling under his boots as he followed the sound of the whistling.

  What was that tune? “Little Red Riding Hood” maybe?

  Jaxon had heard the song when he was younger. He’d found it haunting back then, but right now he found it even more so.

  Did this man think that Abby was a Little Red Riding Hood? Did he consider himself the Big Bad Wolf? The picture of this man being a hunter and Abby being a victim made his stomach roil.

  Using all the stealth inside him, he maneuvered through the trees. The one advantage Jaxon had was that he knew this area and these grounds.

  The noise stopped, and Jaxon froze. He couldn’t give away his location. He had to be careful here because he had no idea what this man was thinking, and he didn’t want to walk into a trap.

  The hairs on Jaxon’s arms rose as everything grew eerily silent around him. Even the wind had died down, and nature seemed motionless as it anticipated what would happen next.

  Still nothing.

  Jaxon took a few more steps, remaining on guard.

  He paused when he saw something in the distance. Was that a . . . person? Just standing there against the tree?

  Carefully, he crept closer.

  The person didn’t move. No, they were eerily still.

  Jaxon’s instincts told him to remain cautious.

  As he reached the figure, Jaxon grabbed the person’s shoulder.

  But it wasn’t a person.

  It was . . . a jacket?

  As the garment draped in his hand, he saw a tear on the back. It must have been nailed to a tree.

  After glancing around once more, Jaxon examined the clothing more closely.

  It was definitely a jacket. A blazer. Like one that a woman would wear.

  Jaxon sucked in a breath at what he saw on it.

  Blood. Lots of blood.

  This had to be from the woman who’d been killed.

  The Executioner had left it here to send a message. Nausea roiled in his stomach.

  Jaxon had to call Luke.

  Now.

  Abby leaned into the wall of the closet, wishing she could disappear. Wishing she was out there fighting her own battles. Thankful that she was safe.

  Her emotions were all over the place as she waited.

  What was going on out there? Was Jaxon okay?

  She prayed he was.

  She continued to wait. Her heart thumped in her ears as she strained to hear any telltale signs of what was going on.

  Finally, she heard footsteps coming her way.

  Was it Jaxon? Or the Executioner?

  Panic swelled in her until she felt she could hardly breathe.

  The next instant, the door flew open and light flooded inside.

  She blinked against the brightness and raised her hands, ready to defend herself.

  Instead . . . Jaxon stood there.

  “You okay?” His eyes narrowed as he observed her.

  It took every ounce of her energy not to crumple right there. Instead, she stepped out and nodded. “You?”

  He told her what had happened, and the sickly feeling in her gut continued to grow stronger, more potent with each new detail.

  A few minutes later, Luke came and took their statements, as well as collected the evidence. The ritual was becoming a routine around here.

  When the sheriff left, silence slipped between Jaxon and Abby. What
a day.

  Jaxon wandered over to the window and shoved aside the curtain. Quietly, Abby joined him. She gave him time to process his thoughts. She was still processing hers.

  A moment later, Jaxon nodded toward the lake. “When I was a kid, my dad took me out here to look at the fog on the lake.”

  She followed his gaze and saw that eerie haze over the water. “Is that right?”

  “My dad loved being outside more than anything.”

  “I guess you got that from him?”

  “Really, all of us kids did. He’d take us camping and tell us stories about this town’s history. When I used to see the fog coming off the lake, I used to think the fog was actually the souls of people who’d been massacred here.”

  Abby shivered at the imagery. “That’s a beautiful yet eerie image. I can see why a child might think that.”

  His jaw flexed as he continued to stare out the window. “The thing about this area is it always reminds me that hope can rise from destruction. We can’t change the past. We can’t change what happened. But we can make the best of things and change the future instead.”

  “I love that, Jaxon.”

  His words echoed in her mind. We can’t change the past . . . but we can change the future instead.

  Those were words she was going to hold onto also.

  Maybe all hope wasn’t lost.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I stood near the lake. Its frosty claws seemed to spread over everything until the cold ripped into my skin.

  I’d liked this town at first, but I liked it less and less all the time. It shouldn’t take me so long to do what I needed to do. I never anticipated people actually being on Abi-jail’s side.

  Especially not Jaxon Wilder.

  I smiled. Yes, I knew his name. Of course. I knew how to find out the information I needed. My brilliance was so often underestimated.

  I knew Jaxon had been in Iraq. He was decorated for his heroism. I also knew about his shaky family life and the secret he held from his siblings.

  I pulled my hat down lower and let out a little tsk tsk. People shouldn’t keep secrets from their family. My family certainly hadn’t kept secrets, and I would hold them up to anyone right now.