"You, too."
He no longer had a ponytail. His storm-black hair was now short and practical. But it wasn't the only change. When they'd dated, Miles had been on the lanky side. No longer. He'd bulked up considerably. Ashley understood that, too. She'd gone through firearms training and self-defense classes, all in an effort to make her feel safe.
Smiling, Miles walked toward her, a gesture that caused both Brayden and Garrett to step in front of her.
His smile evaporated, and Miles gave her a puzzled look. "Is something wrong?"
Ashley pushed her way back through the two O'Malleys. "It's been a tense day," she remarked, studying his eyes. "How about you? How have you been?"
"Busy. I have a computer-security business that I operate out of my home. Keeps me working long hours."
Chitchat. Which should have put her at ease.
It didn't.
Because there shouldn't have been friendly chitchat between them.
The last time she'd seen Miles was at the courthouse, and he'd looked ready to tear her limb from limb because she was representing Hyatt. Of course, people did change, but Ashley wasn't ready to give her old boyfriend the benefit of the doubt.
"What about you?" Miles asked. "Are you still practicing law?"
"I'm taking a short sabbatical."
He made a sound of approval. His gaze slid over Garrett, over Brayden, and then back over her. His gaze paused a moment when it landed on Brayden's arm that was curved protectively around her waist.
Another sound. Definitely not of approval. "Well, I didn't think I'd ever live to see the two of you together." Miles shook his head. "But it makes sense, I guess. Funny though, I assumed neither of you would be able to get past what happened to Dana."
"What do you mean?" Ashley asked at the same moment Brayden insisted, "Think carefully before you continue that thought, Granville."
And there it was.
That spark of fire and temper that she'd been looking for. It wasn't in Granville's eyes, but his smile. Not exactly friendly. And that not exactly friendly part was aimed at Brayden.
So, perhaps Miles was jealous.
That proved nothing, of course. It certainly didn't mean he was a stalker and a killer.
However, it didn't mean he wasn't, either.
It only meant they still had three people on their list of suspects. And they were no closer to finding out which one of them wanted her dead.
* * *
HE WANTED HER DEAD.
Now.
But he had to choke back the rage and force himself not to act impulsively. After all, he wanted to walk away from this when everything was said and done. He wanted vengeance, but he could have that and his freedom, too. This wasn't an either-or situation.
So now, the question was how?
Since O'Malley probably wouldn't let Ashley out of his sight, that meant he'd have to die first. Probably a bullet to the head, which was sadly too quick. Much too painless. But removing O'Malley was his best bet for taking Ashley.
No bullet to the head for her. No. He was thinking something slow. Something he could savor for a while. And for that, he needed a private, quiet place where no one would interrupt them. He had just the place in mind.
Feeding off his anger, nursing it, he sat down to work out his plan of attack. By tomorrow, O'Malley would be dead, and Ashley would be his.
All his.
Well, until he killed her, that is.
Chapter Thirteen
"Stay low in the seat," Brayden warned.
Ashley tried to get a peek out the side mirror, but he simply put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down. The only thing she caught a glimpse of was a huge fake Christmas tree in front of an office building. "Why, do you see someone suspicious?"
"No. But if I do, I don't want that person to see you, as well."
She agreed with that. However, it'd made for an uncomfortable, tense drive. The drive to Dr. Ellison's clinic for the appointment that would normally have taken ten minutes or so had become an hour-plus adventure. First, they'd driven to headquarters and changed cars. Then they'd driven to the county sheriff's office and switched cars a second time. Finally, Brayden had driven around the city, making every turn seemingly possible so he could be certain no one was following them. It was a lot of precautions.
Unfortunately, they were necessary.
"I really wish you'd reconsider this," Brayden mumbled. Again.
Ashley didn't have to ask what this was. She knew. It'd been Brayden's choice of subject since they'd started this meandering trip, and it didn't have anything to do with the doctor's appointment. He was trying yet again to talk her out of leaving.
"We've got Trevor and Miles under surveillance," he reiterated. "If they make one wrong move, we can arrest them. Then if you still want to go to Houston, it'd be safe."
"But it might be years—or never—before Trevor or Miles makes a wrong move."
It was the never part that Ashley prayed for and yet wished it would come, just so it'd be over. Running was getting tiresome, and it likely wouldn't get easier now that she was pregnant.
She ran her hand over her stomach, and despite the dire thoughts, Ashley smiled.
A baby.
The change in her was already incredible, even though she'd only known about the baby for twenty-four hours. Two weeks ago, she hadn't even considered having a child, and now here she was. Pregnant. By Brayden. And extremely happy about it.
Who would have thought it possible?
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Ashley followed his gaze to see what had prompted his question. It was her hand on her stomach. "I'm fine. Really," she added when he gave her a skeptical glance. "Okay, better than fine. Excited."
He pulled into the parking lot, and he immediately began to check it out. Like the rest of the drive, Ashley didn't see much. Only the dull gray sky and the cheery wreaths high on the metal light poles.
"Since you're not a novice at this pregnancy stuff, it's probably not as exciting for you," she continued when he didn't answer.
"It's exciting. Never doubt that. I want this baby as much as you do. And not just because of Colton."
Ashley waited a moment to see if Brayden was finished. He apparently was. "Do I detect a but at the end of that?"
He drew in a heavy breath. "You know I'm worried."
Yes, but that covered a lot of territory. "Worried as in guilty worried because of Dana, or worried as in worried worried because of the stalker?"
"Both," he readily answered.
Again she waited, but Brayden didn't add anything. Not surprising. Their conversations usually came to a halt when Dana's name was mentioned. "It's ironic. We're the two people who loved Dana more than anyone else, and yet we can't even talk about her."
Silence again. Brayden pulled into a parking space, directly beneath one of those wreaths. He took off his seat belt and opened his coat, probably so he'd have easier access to the gun he had in his shoulder holster.
"We'll wait here for a couple of minutes," he informed her. "I have an officer inside the clinic, checking out the corridors and the doctor's office. Once he gives us the okay, we'll go in."
She nodded. And sighed. Once again, they'd skirted the issue of Dana.
Or so she thought.
"I believe Dana would have approved of what we're doing," Brayden said, his voice practically a whisper. "Because we're trying to help Colton."
"Yes." And she kept her response at that. A safe response. In case that was as deep into the conversation as Brayden wanted to get.
It apparently wasn't.
"But I think Dana would have approved for others reasons, too," Brayden continued. He gave a soft, frustrated groan. "She definitely wouldn't have wanted us punishing ourselves, the way we've been doing."
"No. I suspect not."
Brayden glanced down at her. "'So you found out, huh?'"
It took Ashley a moment to realize he wasn't asking her a
confusing question but rather repeating what she'd said to him that day he'd arrived in Virginia.
Mercy.
She didn't want to get into that now, maybe not ever. Why had she let it slip?
"Judging from that deer-in-the-headlights look in your eyes, it's not good," he mumbled. "I didn't think it would be. Or you would have already told me."
Ashley tried to change that look in her eyes, but Brayden was giving her his own look. One that told her he wouldn't back down on this. Not this time.
"Was Dana having an affair?" Brayden asked. But despite Ashley frantically shaking her head, he didn't wait for an answer. "Because I won't believe that. Ever. I don't care what kind of proof you think you have."
"It was nothing like that, Brayden. I promise you Dana never would have cheated on you. She loved you."
There was no relief in his eyes. "Then what was it? What was so bad that you had to keep it a secret all this time?"
"It's not bad." Well, not bad depending on perspective. From her perspective, it hadn't been good. And the consequences had been deadly. "Heck, it's not even important. Not anymore."
"Not important, huh? Then, there's absolutely no reason for you not to tell me."
Oh, there were reasons. Old hurts. Old wounds. Old issues. Old everything.
"Whatever it is," he continued. "Don't you think I have a right to know?"
He did. That wouldn't make it palatable. But at least now they were discussing Dana. A rarity. And a necessity. They somehow needed to get past this and move on. Maybe it was truly time for that air clearing she'd wanted.
"Dana knew," Ashley said. Not with much conviction. But she moistened her lips and forced herself to continue. "She knew the Chapmans were guilty of trying to murder Miles Granville."
That brought his gaze rifling to hers. "What do you mean she knew?" Not a simple question. Nor was it mild surprise. Brayden's voice had an accusing tone to it.
Well, what had she expected? This would not be welcome news. So much for air clearing.
"Trevor confessed everything to her," Ashley explained, choosing her words carefully. "I read it in her computer notes when I was cleaning out her office."
"She knew?" Brayden shook his head. "I can't believe she knew."
Rather than look at him while she continued, Ashley stared at her purse. "I suspect she didn't tell either of us because of client confidentiality. And because she was concerned that I wouldn't have taken the case if I'd known."
Brayden cursed. Not polite cursing. And the accusatory tone was back. "Please don't tell me you're blaming Dana for her own death?"
"No! Absolutely not." Ashley tried to get up, but he pushed her back down again. "Sheez. I knew this would happen. I'm simply informing you of what I found. You asked, remember?"
"I remember." And that was all he said for several moments. "Are you telling me that you wouldn't have defended Chapman if you'd known he was guilty?"
"Is that such a huge surprise?" Ashley noted his narrow-eyed, stern expression. "Yes. I guess it is. Well, here's another surprise. I didn't want to defend Hyatt Chapman at all. In addition to Hyatt being a bona fide jackass, I knew that by defending him, I'd alienate Miles and ruin any hope of restoring our friendship."
"And that mattered to you?" Again, asked with tons of negative insinuations.
"At the time, yes it did. A lot. Miles and I had been dating for over a year. We were friends in addition to being lovers, and even though the lover part was a mistake, I didn't want to lose our friendship."
"If you knew Hyatt was a jackass, then why didn't you tell Dana about the psych eval?"
Ashley groaned. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of Brayden's interrogations.
"Well?" he prompted. Except it was a little more than a prompt.
"All right, here goes. I didn't tell Dana because Hyatt threatened to sue me if I released that info to anyone. It was a personal evaluation, one I'd requested. One he paid for since he was the client. I'm sure he wanted to keep it secret since it was a lot more revealing than the assessment done by the D.A.'s shrink."
"Yeah. Because Hyatt probably lied on that one," Brayden mumbled.
"He probably did. And if it helps, I blame myself for not realizing that."
"And you blame Dana for not telling you the Chapmans were guilty."
"Stop putting words in my mouth," Ashley warned. "No. I don't blame her. I've never blamed her, even after I read her computer notes. I should have known they were guilty. I should have known that taking the case would cause problems. If I could, I'd go back and undo it." She cursed. "And we're right back to square one again."
The silence closed in around them.
Forcing herself to calm down, Ashley ran her hand over her stomach. Over her baby. It helped. Not completely. But it diffused enough of her anger so that she could speak.
"Two and a half years ago when we had this argument, we said some really hurtful things to each other. Let's do us both a favor and not repeat them, okay? In fact, let's just end this conversation right now. In an hour or two I'll be on my way to Houston. We won't have to put ourselves through this again. Promise."
"I don't want a promise."
It sounded a little like an apology. Maybe. But before her eyes could meet his, something else caught her attention. Something on the driver's side of the car. A flash of movement.
A person in a Santa suit.
Brayden must have detected something, as well, because he turned, reaching for his weapon in the same motion.
But it was already too late.
A silenced bullet slammed through the window, webbing the glass and obstructing the view of their attacker. The car door flew open.
Brayden had his hand on his gun, halfway drawn. But halfway wasn't enough. Because the man in the Santa suit latched onto Brayden's shoulder. Where there was blood.
God, there was blood.
Before Ashley could release her seat belt, the man pressed a club against Brayden's back. But not just a club. A stun gun. The jolt fired through Brayden. His muscles jerked, spasmed, incapacitating him almost instantly. The man dragged him out of the car and threw him down to the pavement.
And reaimed his gun.
Right at Brayden's head.
"No!" Ashley screamed.
She launched herself across the seat, fighting her way through the narrow space past the gearshift and steering wheel. She grabbed the man's wrist. Wrenching his hand away from Brayden. In the scuffle, his fake white beard dropped down. And she saw his face.
She saw Hyatt Chapman.
"Don't, Hyatt!" she yelled, still gripping his wrist and the weapon. Ashley didn't let go.
She brought up her knee, prepared to ram it into Hyatt's groin, but she never got the chance. She never saw the stun gun coming at her.
But she felt it.
The staticky shock shot through her. Overpowered her. Until her limbs went limp. Until she couldn't move.
Until the world turned blurry and gray.
She was powerless to stop Hyatt when he gathered her up and tossed her back into the car. Unable to escape. Unable to help Brayden.
Helpless, she slumped against the seat. Ashley thought of her unborn baby. Of Brayden and Colton.
And how she might never see either of them again.
* * *
THE FEELING IN HIS ARMS AND LEGS came back slowly. Too slowly. Brayden couldn't say the same for his mind. It was racing. Yelling for him to get up off the ground and go after Ashley.
Hyatt Chapman had Ashley.
The bastard had her.
The officer who rushed to the scene was busy calling for backup. There was a doctor applying pressure to Brayden's shoulder wound and insisting that the stretcher would be there in just a second or two to carry him inside the clinic.
Brayden knew for a fact that wasn't going to happen.
"Lieutenant O'Malley, can you hear me?" the officer asked.
He managed a nod a
nd sucked in enough breath so he could speak. "Get my brother. And Trevor Chapman's address."
"Sir, you need medical attention," he said as if stating the obvious.
"My brother," Brayden ordered. "And Chapman's address. Now."
The cop nodded, probably too afraid to disobey.
Brayden lay there, listening to the sound of sirens, forcing the feeling back into his arms and legs. Eventually, he was able to sit up.
"I wouldn't advise that," the doctor insisted.
Brayden did it anyway.
"Your brother's on the way," the officer relayed. He handed Brayden a scrap of paper with a scrawled address. "Trevor Chapman's residence and his business address."
"Call both. Don't identify yourself and then hang up. When you find out where he is, get a unit over there to make sure he stays put. Do it!" Brayden demanded when the cop hesitated.
Brayden caught onto the doctor and used the man's arm to hoist himself up. He gave his injury a cursory check. The bullet had skimmed across the top of his left shoulder. Definitely not life threatening.
Unlike what Ashley was no doubt going through.
Hell.
If Hyatt hurt her…but Brayden wouldn't think beyond that. Somehow, he had to get to her.
He had to save her.
Because this wasn't just about Colton and the baby she carried. This was about Ashley.
"Trevor Chapman's at his residence," the officer informed him.
"Get me a car."
Again, the officer shook his head. The doctor balked, as well. Brayden ignored both of them and would have commandeered a vehicle, any vehicle, if Garrett and his black Mustang hadn't come to a screeching halt in front of him.
His brother asked no questions. Instead, Garrett leaned over and opened the door for him. Brayden got inside, and they sped away.
Brayden handed him the slip of paper with Trevor's address. "Get there. Fast."
Garrett glanced at the address and gunned the engine. "We can make it in under ten minutes."
Brayden called Katelyn, to make sure she was with Colton. She was. Thank heaven. And she hadn't seen Hyatt. It didn't mean that the man wouldn't go there. Brayden's next call was to his brother-in-law, Joe, so that he could provide backup for Katelyn if necessary.
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