by Debra Webb
Spence picked up the pillow, checked beneath it, looked inside the pillowcase. She hadn’t thought to do that. Whoever took the liberty of coming uninvited into her room and moved the pillow could have left a message. But they didn’t.
He tossed the pillow back onto the bed, “Come on.” He turned to her. “You’re staying in my room tonight.”
“Wait. I…” She couldn’t stay in the same room with him.
“I’ll feel better if I can see you.”
But if she dreamed…
“I’m not taking no for an answer.” He walked across the room and picked up the bag she hadn’t bothered to fully unpack yet. “Let’s go.”
She wanted to say no. To pretend that she would be fine. But the truth was, she hadn’t been fine in a very long time.
Chapter Seven
Spence watched Dana sleep in his bed.
She’d tossed and turned for most of the night. Occasionally she moaned and muttered unintelligible words. Whether she knew it or not, today she was going to come clean with him. He’d intended to take things a little slower, but the reaction he’d noted so far to her return wasn’t going to permit the necessary time.
Though the Bellomys had been kind, it was clear from their reaction, as well as his unidentified visitor’s and the motel manager’s, that Dana’s reappearance had awakened long-slumbering emotions.
After sixteen years, it was surprising that her former neighbors and acquaintances reacted so strongly. The murders everyone who’d lived here at the time would remember, but this was more than that. This was a surprisingly keen mix of emotions.
Dana’s eyes opened. She lay still for a few moments before her gaze sought him. She blinked, then sat up.
“I can be ready in fifteen minutes.” She threw the covers back and scooted off the bed. Obviously concluding that he was waiting on her.
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
He wasn’t going to make small talk with her today. As soon as she was dressed and ready to go, they were headed for her childhood home. Mr. Bellomy had told him that the key could be found beneath the rock on the right side of the front steps. Coffee could be picked up en route. He hadn’t noticed any drive-throughs in town, but there was a diner.
As promised, fifteen minutes later Dana was ready to go. The jeans, sweatshirt and sneakers made her look far younger than twenty-nine. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She didn’t look like the same woman he’d met in Victoria’s office just two days ago.
“Coffee?” he asked as he opened the door for her to precede him.
“Coffee would be good.”
She sounded a bit more relaxed this morning. Relaxed was good. “Coffee would be very good,” he agreed.
Climbing into the car he noticed the manager watching from the office window. He didn’t bother turning away when he realized that Spence was staring back.
Odd man. This was a small town; folks were always curious when a stranger came to town. Especially when the stranger was accompanied by the one survivor of the town’s only homicide case—a triple homicide case at that.
If Dana noticed the visual exchange, she didn’t mention it.
The weather forecast had called for rain. Spence was glad the rain hadn’t shown this morning. The overcast sky made for dreary weather, setting an ominous tone.
At the diner, he shut off the engine and turned to his passenger. “Do you want to go in and have breakfast?”
She surveyed the crowd gathered around the tables beyond the glass storefront and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Cream or sugar?”
“Black.” Her attention remained focused on the diner.
Inside, Spence settled on a stool at the counter.
The two waitresses behind the counter shared a look, then one approached him. “What can I get you this morning?”
He glanced at her name tag. “Good morning, Ginger. Two black coffees to go, please.”
She hesitated a moment, then busied herself with preparing his order. The hum of conversation and scrape of stainless silver against stoneware didn’t diminish, but he felt the stares of several in the room. Again, not unusual in a small town. He was a stranger.
Ginger set the carryout order on the counter in front of him. “Anything else?”
“That’ll do it.”
“Two ten.”
He placed a five on the counter and reached for the bag.
“You’re that fellow who brought Dana Hall back to town, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
If the unpleasant set of her mouth was any indication, she was no fan of Dana’s, either. For a thirteen-year-old at that time, she seemed to have made a lot of enemies around town.
“What’d she come back here for?” the waitress asked. “Things have been nice and quiet since that girl and her folks left. The way it used to be. We don’t need her back here causing trouble.”
“We’re reopening the investigation into her sister’s murder. I’m sure you’ll all rest easier when the killer is brought to justice.”
The silence that had fallen over the diner with his announcement was deafening.
Ginger’s face tightened with what looked very much like fury. “That girl knows what happened to her sister. She was the Devil’s own, that girl. If she was smart she would’ve stayed gone.”
“Thank you.” Spence picked up the bag and turned to go. The diner’s patrons immediately turned their attention back to the business of breakfast. But not one had missed the waitress’s candid warning.
Funny, he mused as he walked out the door. The Bellomys hadn’t mentioned a word about there having been any trouble with Dana or her sister. Good girls was what Bellomy had called them.
Dana hadn’t mentioned anything, either.
Had she blocked all of that ugly history?
The only thing he knew for certain was that most people he’d encountered in Brighton so far didn’t want Dana Hall back in town. Not even if her presence would solve a sixteen-year-old triple homicide case.
DANA SIPPED HER COFFEE slowly as Spence drove toward their destination. Her full attention was focused on keeping her anxiety level from escalating. Every block closer to her childhood home tightened the band around her chest. Her throat had closed to the point that a tiny swallow, even of the hot brew, was all she could manage.
Being here. Seeing the streets, the trees, the buildings and houses…made her sick inside. A deep breath was impossible. Every face…every voice reminded her of how much she hated this town.
But she couldn’t remember exactly why. She had good memories as a small child, all the way up until a couple of months before her thirteenth birthday. But everything beyond that was obscured. The images her mind conjured were foggy, out of focus. She just couldn’t recall many of the details surrounding that time. When she’d tried to discuss that part of the past with her mother, she had insisted it was too painful and changed the subject.
Anger kindled inside Dana. That left her with all these feelings…all these uncertainties for sixteen years. Didn’t her mother understand that the past was eating Dana alive?
She snapped the lid back on the cup and deposited it into a cup holder. She tried to slow her increasingly rapid heartbeat. As bad as she wanted it, the caffeine wouldn’t help.
Her hands had turned to ice by the time the car rolled to a stop in the driveway of her former home. In the light of day the faded paint was even more apparent. The once pristine white siding was now a dingy gray. The windows wore a coat of filth. Though the grass was neatly trimmed, the shrubs were out of control. The first-floor windows were scarcely visible above the untamed bushes.
Spence got out of the car and came around to her door. When he opened it, she sat, frozen a moment before she managed the strength or courage to climb out. Her legs didn’t want to work properly, as if just being here had diminished her coordination. He led the way, as though she were here for the first time. The key was
under the rock, as Mr. Bellomy had said.
On the porch, she stood behind Spence as he unlocked and opened the door.
Dana hadn’t set foot inside this house in almost sixteen years. A lifetime.
The stale smell hit her nostrils, but it was the underlying scent of home that rammed her senses. Despite the passage of time, she could smell the life she had once lived here.
“Why don’t you show me around?”
She nodded, the motion jerky. The front door opened into a small entry hall. The home was a typical center-hall, two-story colonial. To the right was the dining room, to the left was the living room and down the center hall, behind the staircase, was the kitchen.
They wandered through those rooms. The furnishings were draped in white sheets like ghosts from the past. Every glass, cup and spoon had been left behind. Her parents had taken nothing—not even clothes. They’d said it was too hard to look at any of it, much less use it.
The kitchen counter felt cold beneath her fingertips. Images and voices bombarded her mind. Her mother calling them to dinner. Her father simultaneously watching the news and reading the paper.
“Upstairs,” Dana said when they made the complete circle and paused at the bottom of the staircase, “are the other bedrooms. My parents’ room was the large one at the end of the hall.”
“Where’s the room you and your sister shared?”
“This way.” Dana led him back through the kitchen, to what used to be a garage. When her father had built his two-car detached garage they had turned the one that was part of the house into a large den.
Dana drew up short at the door. A large padlock prevented their entrance.
“Did your father padlock the door?”
Dana started to say no but then changed her mind. “I honestly can’t say. Those final weeks here are just a blur. I know I didn’t sleep in there after…that night.”
“Let’s check with Mr. Bellomy.”
Dana followed Spence as far as the porch, but she had no desire to interact with anyone else this morning. She’d seen the way the people in the diner had stared at Spence and then at the car when they’d realized she was in it.
No one wanted her back here.
Particularly, it seemed, Lorie Hamilton.
Dana just couldn’t remember why.
When Spence returned he carried a large tool. Like a big set of pliers. “What’s that?”
“Bolt cutter.”
A frown tugged at Dana’s brow. “He didn’t have a key?”
“No key.”
That anxiety she’d been fighting since waking was revving into high gear. Dana tried to slow her breathing. Tried to talk herself down from the ledge where she was headed—a full-blown panic attack.
Spence positioned the tool and strained to snap the metal ring of the lock. A couple of attempts later, it popped, then fell loose.
“All right.” He laid the tool on the floor and wiggled the disabled lock free. He wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and gave it a turn.
Dana’s breath stalled in her lungs as he swung the door inward. The room was pitch-black. The windows had apparently been covered. With no electricity, they couldn’t turn on the lights.
“Stay right here,” Spence said. “I’ll get a flashlight.”
He didn’t have to worry; she wasn’t going into that room alone.
Seconds later he was back, flashlight in hand. He clicked on the beam and moved into the room.
Dana’s gaze followed the flashlight’s beam, settling on the walls. Hideous drawings marred the pastel pink paint…pictures of devils and witches and circles with the slashes across them that meant forbidden or prohibited. Broken pieces of furniture were strewn all over the floor. The room had been ransacked or vandalized…
But it was the writing on one wall that had her reaching for something to hold on to.
Dead and gone to hell.
Chapter Eight
Chicago, Illinois
Ian Michaels slid the list of names across the conference table to Victoria. “I’ve narrowed down the six names Thomas Casey provided.”
Victoria reviewed Ian’s conclusions. All lethal enemies of her husband…all capable of most any imaginable or unimaginable crime. “Did Thomas agree with your conclusions?” Thomas Casey was head of Mission Recovery, a shadow operation associated with the CIA. Thomas was Lucas’s former director as well as a close friend.
Ian nodded. “He pinpointed four of the six names.” Ian gestured to the list. “You’ll notice the check marks. Those are where Casey believes the focus should be.”
Thomas Casey had also put out feelers to update intelligence on those listed. Victoria could depend on Thomas. His unit was made up of the most highly trained men and women in the country. As thorough as Thomas and his people would be, Victoria still wanted Ian and Simon on top of this as well. This could just as easily be an enemy of the Colby Agency.
That sickening sensation of dread churned in her stomach. Allowing her granddaughter to attend preschool under the circumstances was one of the hardest decisions she’d ever had to make. But the child wanted desperately to be with her friends. She loved school. Ian’s wife, Nicole Reed-Michaels, was stationed inside the school to keep an eye on Jamie. The faculty and staff at the school were on alert as well. Brad and Elaine Gibson, another of the Colby Agency’s husband-and-wife teams, were standing guard on the campus grounds.
Victoria would not attempt to contact Jim and Tasha unless the situation escalated. If contact was even possible. She didn’t want to worry them unnecessarily. At this point, the threat to the family was nothing more than an underground rumbling. Still, Victoria had taken every possible precaution. No risk would be left to chance.
She wanted desperately to talk to Lucas. To hear his voice. Reaching him was very nearly an impossible task as well. For the first time since he retired, he had been called in as an advisor and active participant on a brewing situation in the Middle East. The negotiation talks were taking place at an undisclosed location with the strictest government security measures in place. Thomas had assured Victoria that he would get word to Lucas.
Forty-eight hours and still waiting. Victoria’s nerves were frayed.
Mildred appeared in the doorway. The relief on her face told Victoria before she uttered a word that she’d come with good news. “Lucas is on line two.”
Thank God. “Thank you, Mildred.” Victoria selected the speaker option and opened line two. “Lucas.” Her throat tightened with emotion and for an instant Victoria couldn’t speak. “I’m glad you could call. I have Ian and Simon in the conference room. You’re on speaker.”
“Are you all right?”
The worry in her husband’s voice twisted Victoria’s heart. She hated the idea of being so far apart and adding this burden onto his already full plate. “I’m fine. Jamie’s well-being is my primary concern right now.”
“Casey filled me in. He also mentioned a couple of names, Heddison and Dutton. I would be surprised if either one of those two possessed the courage to resurface considering they’re wanted for treason, but you can’t be too careful. Casey has two of his specialists tracking down the top six he and Ian discussed. As soon as he knows anything at all, he’ll make contact.”
It was so good to hear his voice. Just knowing that he was on the case filled Victoria with renewed courage. “I’m sure we’ll have this under control very soon.” She prayed that would be the case. “Mean-while, we’re looking into every known enemy of the Colby Agency.” There were other things she wanted to say to Lucas, but those would have to wait.
“We will get through this,” Lucas reiterated. “No one is going to touch my family.” The pause that followed punctuated the emotion in his tone. “I’ll call you tonight, Victoria.”
Warmth filled her chest, chasing away the fear. She had Lucas. She had her extended family here at the agency, as well as Thomas Casey and his specialists. Victoria had every reason to be strong and confident. “
Until then,” she said in parting.
When the line closed, Victoria reclined in her chair and took her first deep breath of the day. Everything was going to be all right. No one was going to hurt her family ever again. She was far too aware of evil’s reach…She’d learned that lesson the hardest way of all when her only child, her son, went missing more than two decades ago. Evil had snatched him at age seven, and she hadn’t been able to find him. Jim was missing for nearly twenty years. During that time he was tortured, enslaved…and worse.
She would not allow his child to suffer that same tragedy.
As if fate had deemed that moment the perfect opportunity to counter Victoria’s firm vow, Mildred burst into the room.
“Nicole is on line one.” Mildred glanced from Victoria to Ian and back. “She says it’s urgent.”
Fear resurrected in Victoria’s heart. Ian put the call on speaker before she had the presence of mind to react.
“What’s going on, Nicole?” he asked, an edge in his tone.
Tension seemed to push the very air out of the room.
“We have a fire alarm,” Nicole explained, the chatter of excited children and the high-pitched shrill of the alarm in the background. “According to the director this is not a drill.”
Victoria’s heart surged into her throat.
Before she could speak, Nicole went on, “I’m holding Jamie’s hand. She’s right beside me. We’re filing out of the building with her class. Brad and Elaine are searching the grounds for anything or anyone out of place.”
Victoria pushed back her chair and stood. “I’m on my way.” She could not sit here and wait to see if this was a mere coincidence. She had to be there.
She needed to see with her own eyes that Jamie was safe.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” Ian told his wife before rushing to catch up with Victoria at the door. “Don’t worry,” he said with a hand on her arm. “No one’s getting to Jamie without going through Nicole first. You know that.”
Victoria tried to nod, but her muscles simply wouldn’t cooperate.
