by Jen Blood
“Wait,” Jack said. He sorted through the information. “Jenny showed up again?”
“Damn right she did,” Monty said. “And I don’t care how sweet that piece of tail looks, that bitch is dangerous. And nuts to boot. She took off with something, and didn’t seem too keen to let it go anytime soon.”
“What?” Jack asked.
Before they could answer, the kitchen door opened and Diggs came in with Cameron. If the others looked like they hadn’t slept the night, Diggs looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Which, Jack reflected, was probably true.
Diggs closed the door behind them. “I assume we’re talking about last night,” he said.
“What in hell was Erin doing?” Jack asked. “Or thinking, for that matter?”
“Excellent question,” Cameron muttered. He poured himself some coffee from the pot, then leaned back against the sideboard rather than join the others.
Diggs scrubbed a hand over his eyes and sat. “You know her—she got an idea in her head, and she decided it would be best for her to follow it through on her own. It’s a long story. Epic, actually. But the gist is that she’s remembering some things.” He looked at Cameron.
“What things?” Cameron asked.
“Things about the Payson Church. And, specifically, Isaac Payson.”
“She found something last night, didn’t she?” Cameron said.
Diggs didn’t answer, his gaze still level with Cameron’s. Instead, he had his own questions.
“What the hell is going on? Why are we here? Why are you here? You might care about Solomon, but you don’t give a rat’s ass about Littlehope or this island. Why does J.? What possible role could Payson Isle play in anything they’re doing now?”
“I told you,” Cameron said. “It plays no role. I came here because I saw Erin’s message and surmised from there that you had come here. And that you, in all likelihood, could use some help.”
Diggs frowned. Jack tried to read Cameron, to try and determine whether he was lying. He seemed sincere, though. And how many times had the man saved his life over the years? And saved Diggs and Erin, on top of that?
“Let’s say that is true,” Jack said. “What’s this about Erin finding something on the island? What is she remembering?”
“It’s up to her to tell you that,” Diggs said, his face a grim mask. “All I’ll say is that there was a reason her father buried her memories of this place, and Isaac Payson was a hell of a lot darker than she remembered until last night.”
“And what she found was proof of that?” Cameron asked.
The kitchen door opened again. Erin limped in, clearly in pain. She had what appeared to be a small stack of photos in her hand.
“Gang’s all here, I see,” Erin said. “Let’s head for the meeting room—I can brief you there, where there’s more room to spread out.”
Diggs got up, poured another mug of coffee, and handed it to Erin. “You should have slept in,” Jack heard him say.
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” she replied. “Which, considering how things are going, might not be too far from now.”
After he’d had a moment to take in her appearance, Jack relaxed incrementally. Compared with battles Erin had had in the past, it appeared the damage was minor—all he could see was a slight bruising at her jaw, her upper lip a little swollen. So the physical damage was minimal, at least. Based on the way Diggs was watching her, Jack assumed the emotional toll had been far greater.
They filed into the meeting room after Erin, and the five of them settled in at the table.
“Shouldn’t someone be watching the monitors?” Jack asked.
Cameron frowned.
“I’ll go,” Monty volunteered. “Just give me the bullets later.”
He left for the alcove, while the others waited for someone to begin. Finally, Erin started by laying the Polaroids out on the table between them.
“I found these in a hiding spot an old friend of mine had when we were kids,” Erin said.
Cameron stood and leaned in, in order to get a better view of the photos. “These are from the Payson Church,” he said.
“They are.”
Jack paused at sight of a photo of a silver-haired man with a switch in one hand. A woman, naked from the waist up, was on her knees in front of him.
“This is Isaac Payson?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Erin said. She looked profoundly uncomfortable. “Nice, right? Clearly, my memories up till now have been a little off.”
“You remember everything now, then?” Cameron asked.
“Not everything, I don’t think. But the highlights.”
“Such as?” Cameron prompted. It seemed to Jack that the man was fishing for something specific.
“I’ll get to that in a minute,” Erin said. “First, Jenny said something that I’m having a hard time getting out of my head. Something about you not telling me the whole truth—that I was looking for the right team, but the wrong players. What’s she talking about?”
Jack thought he detected a flicker of annoyance as it crossed Cameron’s face, but it vanished too quickly to be certain.
“She’s lying,” Cameron said. “Plain and simple.”
“That’s it?” Erin said doubtfully. “Your kid’s full of shit—that’s your story?”
“She said it to drive a wedge between you and me,” Cameron said, his focus still on Erin. “She’s always been jealous of you and your mother. In her mind, you are the reason our family fell apart—which is absurd, I realize. She told you I was keeping secrets because she knew it would make you distrust me.” He paused, studying her for a moment. “Clearly, she succeeded.”
Jack went over the information he’d already gleaned while Erin processed what Cameron had said.
“Diggs asked earlier why you’re here,” Jack said, interrupting what appeared to be a standoff between Erin and Cameron. “I agree. Why is this mission in Maine so important to J.? And what difference could these photos from the Payson Church possibly make to them? The preacher and the entire congregation are dead, except for Erin.” He paused. “Right?”
“Of course,” Cameron said tersely. “You’ve seen the coroner’s reports. I was here for the event—believe me, I know the extent of the damage. Honestly, these photos have no bearing on anything. But if Erin is remembering her past, then she might remember something her father said that could lead us to J. now.”
“He wasn’t even in J. when I was here,” Erin insisted. “So why the hell would he have been talking about future plans with the organization? It was over twenty years ago.”
“It’s a long shot,” Cameron admitted. He studied Erin with what Jack thought appeared to be a trace of guilt. “Just keep thinking about it. If something occurs, let me know. And in the meantime…”
“In the meantime, what?” Jack said. “We still honestly have no idea what J.’s next move will be. And we don’t have a clue where Jenny will strike next.”
Cameron took a moment before he spoke again. He stood, and walked away from the table. By the time he’d returned, the conflict Jack had seen earlier in his eyes seemed to have resolved itself. For the first time, the man seemed utterly clear on his next step.
“Which is why it’s best you leave now,” he said. “I’ve given this a great deal of thought over the course of the past few hours. I want you to go. Leave the island. Leave Littlehope. Stay clear of here until I can talk to Jenny. Enjoy New Year’s Eve—just do it somewhere else.”
“Wait just a minute,” Erin said, her temper flaring. “You can’t send us away now. You said last night this was our window to figure things out. Why would we leave town now? We could actually make some progress.”
“Or you could get yourself killed,” Cameron said. “It’s a wonder you didn’t when you pulled that idiotic stunt in the middle of the night. Jenny will be furious when she realizes she doesn’t have everything she was after—”
“Who says she’ll even know she doesn’t have
everything?” Erin countered. “She didn’t know where the box was—it didn’t seem like she had a clue what the hell was in it.”
“She’ll know,” he said. “I don’t want to argue with you about this, Erin. You need to go.”
“How has what happened last night changed anything?” she asked. “We had a plan. Why do we have to change that now?”
“Because Jenny will be looking for you,” he said unequivocally. “She’ll be after what you have. And with everything she’s set in motion here, I’m not sure my assumption that J. will stay away was completely accurate.”
“You seriously think they’d come here now?” Diggs said. He’d been curiously quiet up to this point. Now, there was fathomless dread in his tone.
“There’s a possibility that they would do more than that…” Cameron said. He stopped. Jack waited impatiently for him to complete his thought. He thought again of all the voices in his head; all those memories he couldn’t access. Everything Cameron had taken.
“Do more than what?” Jack prompted. “Jenny has killed their operatives. There’s a blizzard coming in a few hours. They aren’t scheduled to do anything until April—why would they risk coming here now?”
Cameron didn’t speak, his gaze fixed on the table.
“The timetable we have is right though, isn’t it?” Erin said. The same tension had crept into her voice. “I mean, the whole bit about them doing something in April. That’s what we have on the list—so far, they’ve been pretty freaking devoted to that thing.”
“They may need to reevaluate, this time,” Cameron said finally.
“Reevaluate meaning what?” Erin said.
Whole seconds rolled past with no answer, while Cameron continued to stare pointedly at the table.
“Answer her, damn it!” Jack said. Frustration rose in his blood.
Cameron turned cool blue eyes on him. “Knowing J. as I do, they’ll want to send a message,” he said. “To make it clear that trying to disrupt their plans will come to no good—that it, in fact, will only make things worse.”
“How would they do that?” Diggs asked.
Cameron looked at Erin. “If I were them, I would choose a date when I could make the most impact, and I would do it when those going up against me least expected it.”
“New Year’s Eve,” Jack said.
“What?” Erin said. “What do you mean, New Year’s Eve? You’re saying they’ll hit tonight? But we still don’t have a target. And there’s a blizzard. And their gunmen are dead.”
“I’ve told you before,” Cameron said. “J. plans for contingencies. If the gunmen are dead, either they’ll have someone else in place, or the team leader is responsible for seeing the plan through themselves.”
“Meaning Lilah Waters could come here,” Jack said. “The woman in charge of this mission: LW.” The same woman who had murdered Lucia.
“It’s possible,” Cameron said. “You see now why I want you gone?”
“I’m not leaving,” Erin said. “Especially not if J.’s hitting Maine to potentially blow up my hometown. Screw that. We came this far to do something—now we finally have a plan, I’m not about to scrap it now. Anyone else who wants to go, I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest.” She looked at Diggs. Her voice quieted; Jack detected a near-apology in her tone, or as close as Erin ever came. “But I’m not leaving until I see this thing through. I can’t.”
Jack didn’t hesitate. “I feel the same way. I’m here until the end.”
Diggs thought for a moment. He looked at Erin, and Jack felt certain he was contemplating what they could face in the next several hours—everything that could go wrong. He took a long, deep breath before he nodded. “Yeah. I’m staying.”
“That’s the plan, then?” Cameron said. He didn’t look happy. “You stay to face J.—whatever they may have in store.”
“That’s the plan,” Diggs said. “We’ll go to the mainland just like we’d planned, and see what we can do to figure things out. We’ll chat up the locals, ask some questions—which just happens to be what Solomon and I do best.”
Silence fell over the table. Jack thought of Lucia again—liquid brown eyes watching him, the infectious laughter that had transported him from the time they first met. And then, he considered the fact that the woman behind her death could be this near, after all this time. There was nothing that would keep him from following through on this now.
“All right, then,” Jack said. “It seems we have a plan. I say we get it done.”
Before they could rise, Erin stayed them with a wave of her hand. “I just—I’m not going to make a big speech or anything, but I did want to say thanks for watching my back through all this…” She looked at Cameron. “I still don’t understand exactly what role you’ve played all these years, and I know you’ve got secrets you’re not sharing, but you’ve saved every one of us more than once. That has to count for something.” She looked at Jack, then Diggs, and took a long, slow breath. “And… Hell, I don’t know. If you guys would consider an alternative lifestyle, I think the three of us would make the perfect couple, so…” She looked away, eyes tearing, and cleared her throat. “Thanks. That’s all. And, you know—don’t die today. Or anytime soon.”
Her cheeks were flaming by the time she’d finished. Jack went to her after Cameron had filed out and only she and Diggs remained. He tipped her chin up and tilted her face to the side, as much for the contact as the illusion that he was checking her injuries.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “What do you think?” There was less bite than usual in the tone, the words edged with profound fatigue. “I’m alive, though. That’s something. What about you? Are you remembering anything else?”
“Not really,” Jack said. He frowned. “What was it like? All of it rushing back like that?”
“Honestly?” she said. “It really sucked.”
Chapter Nineteen
It was almost three o’clock by the time Jack, Monty, Diggs, and I reached the mainland that New Year’s Eve. No flakes were flying yet, but the sky was pure gray and the wind was already up. Eighteen to twenty-four inches of fluffy white stuff were predicted for the night, combined with high winds and record low temperatures. Cameron had insisted he’d take his own boat and meet us on the mainland within a couple of hours, but it made me nervous being separated from him that late in the game. I was grateful to be off the island, but there was no way in hell we’d get back to Cameron if it turned out he needed us.
Despite the fact that Diggs and I had managed to fit in a mid-morning nap, I was feeling far from daisy fresh. Beyond the exhaustion and the residual aches and pains from my run-in with Jenny, I kept getting little flashes of my past on Payson Isle. The hit list included Allie’s death and my father locking me in that closet, but I was also remembering a whole lot more about my interactions with Isaac Payson. I’d said all along that I didn’t think my father had ever allowed Isaac to do anything to me, and I actually still stood by that. But I got the feeling that the interactions Isaac and I did have over the years were far from harmless.
Add to that the fact that I’d had to say goodbye to Einstein again that morning, and Morrissey could have been mistaken for a Mouseketeer next to me.
“You’re quiet,” Diggs said as we approached Bennett’s Lobster Shanty. “You okay?”
“I’m tired,” I said. “And my head hurts. And my childhood was a horrifying sham filled with bloodshed and violent death. Plus, my dog’s gone again.”
“So that’s a no, then?”
I leaned into him and closed my eyes with a semi-tortured laugh. “I will be, I think. Assuming we survive the next twenty-four hours.”
He kissed my temple. “That’s the assumption I’m going with.”
The parking lot at Bennett’s had already started to fill. Diggs and I came in alone—Jack and Monty were pursuing their own leads and would join us later, since Diggs and I would most likely get more information
about the goings-on around town if we were on our own.
Though it was late afternoon, the lighting was dim inside the Shanty, smoked-glass windows obscured by red pepper lights twined around a heavy fishing net suspended from the ceiling. A woman I recognized as Mimi Bennett, matriarch of the Bennett clan, was behind the bar when we came through the door. She just gave me the hairy eyeball, but she broke into a grin the second she caught sight of Diggs.
“Oh my gawd,” she said, that rich Maine rhythm present in even those three words. She came out from behind the bar and pulled Diggs into a hug, though she barely reached his broad shoulders, then pushed him away and slapped him on the chest. “Where in blazes have you been? You blow up Kat’s house, steal Mel’s truck—she’s still pissed about that, by the way, so you might want to keep your head down round here—and just leave that house of yours to rot.”
She drew up short, as though suddenly remembering. “I’m sorry about your dad, hon. ‘Course, I always thought he was an uptight prick—never did understand how swimmers from a man like that could turn into a boy like you.”
She stood back and looked him up and down, as though to illustrate the point. “You look good. Beat as hell, but I guess that’s to be expected. But tan. Buff. Like you been working out, living the good life. You finally come back here to make an honest woman of me?”
He laughed. “I’ve told you before, Mimi. You’re too much woman for me.” He draped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into the space Mimi was dominating at the moment.
She looked at me for the first time, taking in my puffy lip and the fist-sized bruise on my jaw with a single keen glance. “Jesus, Erin. Who’d you get on the wrong side of this time, girl?”
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“What’d you do with your mother, anyway? Her house blows up, her girlfriend, partner, whatever you want to call it, up and leaves town, Diggs disappears… And last time you spent too much time around here, Matt Perkins and Joe Ashmont wound up dead. Seems like maybe you’re a dangerous woman to keep around.”
