Deceived (Unlikely Heroes Book 3)

by Leslie Georgeson

  Her cheeks heated. Zach? The love of her life?

  Evan smiled at her. “I want you to be happy, Meg. I want you to find true love. You deserve it more than anyone.” He paused, releasing her hand. “So,” he said, “tell me about this Zach. What’s he like?”

  Meg let out a long breath. For the next hour, she relaxed and found herself telling Evan everything, from the moment she’d met Zach to this afternoon when he’d come to question her. She told him all about Curtis’s involvement and the deputy from the jail and meeting Zach’s daughter Kristen. She left nothing out. Evan was the only person she’d ever been able to talk to so openly before. Evan knew her better than anyone.

  “Kristen sounds like a lovely girl,” Evan said. “I want to meet her sometime.”

  “I think she’d like you,” Meg said with a smile. “She’s a misfit too.”

  She grew silent. “I’m not sure if I should have told Zach about Larry,” she admitted quietly. “What if he gets hurt or killed?”

  “He’s a big boy,” Evan said, waggling his brows at her suggestively. “I’m sure he can take care of himself. You need to be more worried about taking care of Meg.”

  She choked out a laugh at Evan’s comical facial expressions. He always knew how to make her laugh. She wrapped an arm around his neck and squeezed.

  “I’ve missed you, Ev.”

  He patted her hand. “I’ve missed you, too. But let’s not get all teary-eyed here. I can’t stay long. I need to hit the road before someone sees me with you. I don’t think anyone followed me, but I could be wrong. I would feel terrible if I led them right to you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and let you know I was alive.”

  Meg squeezed his hand. “Can I least convince you to stay for dinner?”

  Evan pretended to consider it for a moment, then he leapt up from the couch. “Let’s make lasagna.”

  * * *

  Zach called Agent Miller on his way back to the office. After they got the pleasantries aside, Zach said, “I was wondering if you could check into someone for me. His name’s Larry Cummings. He’s the Spokane County Sheriff.”

  “Hold on a sec,” Agent Miller said. Zach waited while “hold” music came over the line. Less than a minute later, the agent was back. “Looks like we’re already investigating him for suspected participation in human trafficking and prostitution. Mostly teenage girls.”

  “No shit,” Zach murmured. What hadn’t Meghan told him? He sensed there was much more to the story than she’d revealed thus far. What the hell was she doing?

  “Why are you interested in him?” Agent Miller wanted to know.

  Meghan had told him in confidence, but Zach knew he could trust Nick Miller.

  “I think he’s after my new neighbor.”

  “After your neighbor…how?”

  Zach hesitated. Then he told Agent Miller everything he’d learned from Meghan and all the things that had happened over the past few days.

  “She said she was investigating him, but she didn’t say what for. She obviously knows something I don’t. And honestly, I’m a little worried about her. Why was that off-duty cop found on her back porch? Why did one of my deputies sneak her out of the jail? She claims there’s a secret “bounty” on her head. But I couldn’t find any “bounty” in my investigation.”

  “You won’t, either,” Agent Miller said matter-of-factly. “We’ve got a couple of undercover agents who are attempting to infiltrate Cumming’s ring right now. They’re having a hard time getting information, as Cummings is extremely careful. You’d better stay out of this, Zach, for your own safety. It seems anyone who crosses the guy ends up dead. He’s got eyes and ears everywhere. The police department and the sheriff’s department are both under investigation, but it’s secret. They aren’t aware they’re being investigated. We’re trying to flush out the bad cops.”

  Zach sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he pulled into the county offices and parked in his reserved spot. “So do you think the entire police force in Spokane is corrupt?”

  “I don’t know,” Agent Miller admitted. “We’re still investigating. We have one cop in protective custody. She was the one who came to us with her suspicions about Cummings. She won’t reveal the source of her information, but I would suspect your neighbor may know more about it. We may need to take your neighbor into protective custody as well. Why don’t you talk to her about it and see if she’s interested?”

  “Thanks,” Zach said. “I will.” He disconnected the call, glad that he’d thought to call Nick Miller. The FBI’s involvement would help. He should have believed in Meghan from the start instead of assuming things about her. She’d been terrified and now he understood why. Cops—the very people who’d been sworn to protect and serve—had her so terrified that she didn’t trust anyone in law enforcement. But what did she think she was doing, going after Cummings on her own? Zach needed to stop her before she got hurt. He had to convince her to let the FBI handle it.

  Zach shoved open his car door and slid out of the vehicle. He hoped to convince her to go into protective custody. He was sure Agent Miller would find a safe place for her. Zach would feel better if she was safe.

  But first he had to convince her to trust him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Evan ended up staying until after dark. Together they cooked lasagna for dinner. Evan was a great cook. She’d learned a few recipes from him over the years. After dinner, they sat out on the porch swing and talked, sipping wine and giggling as he teased her about Zach and she teased him about a new “friend” he’d met. He told her he was staying with this “new friend” and that he might have found “the one.” Meg was delighted for him. She wanted so much for Evan to be happy.

  “I changed my will a few weeks ago,” he admitted. “I hope you don’t mind, but I added Robert to my will. I want him to have half of everything.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. You don’t owe me anything, Evan.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I owe you everything, Meg. Without you, I wouldn’t be who I am today.”

  “I wouldn’t be who I am today without you, either,” she whispered. They each turned away, embarrassed, and wiped at their tears. Their friendship was special, one Meg would cherish her entire life.

  She cleared her throat. “I want to meet Robert sometime.”

  Evan smiled at her, his eyes droopy from too much wine. “Oh you will, I promise. And you’ll have to introduce me to Zach. Why don’t you call him? Have him come over right now?”

  Meg’s heart hammered. She looked away. “I don’t have his number.” How would she explain Evan’s presence? Zach would start demanding answers and she wasn’t ready to tell him everything yet. He would think she’d lied about Evan too, and she wouldn’t blame him, since she’d lied about everything else.

  Evan giggled. “Just call 911 and your sexy sheriff will be at your door in an instant.” He fell forward in the swing, laughing hysterically.

  Meg didn’t think it was quite that funny. Zach hadn’t shown up at all that evening, to her amazement, though she’d expected him to come back and interrogate her some more. Perhaps he’d decided to give her a little space or maybe he was just waiting for her to be off guard so he could take her by surprise and pounce.

  Meg had always been a private person. Answering Zach’s questions hadn’t been easy. She was glad he hadn’t shown up tonight. Would he believe she hadn’t known Evan was alive? Or would he think she’d been hiding Evan under her roof all this time?

  Evan sobered, yawning for the fourth or fifth time. He glanced at his diamond encrusted Rolex. Coming from money, Evan had never lacked for anything monetary in his entire life. But he’d never received the one thing he’d longed for: his father’s acceptance. Before Silas Ambrose had passed away, he still hadn’t accepted his son’s “way of life” which had hurt Evan deeply. Since Meg had lost her father at a young age and had never been as close to him as she might have liked, she and Evan had bonded on the “fath
er thing” as well. They had helped each other get through hard times. They would always be friends. Two misfits who’d helped each other survive. She and Curtis had been a disappointment to their parents, who had never understood their Tourette’s Syndrome and had been embarrassed to take their children anywhere public where someone might witness their tics. Meg and Curtis had never been accepted anywhere, not even by their own family. Evan was the only person who had ever loved Meg for who she was.

  “I should go,” Evan murmured. “I’ve already stayed longer than I planned.”

  “Why don’t you spend the night?” Meg suggested. “You can leave in the morning. I’ll change the sheets on the spare bed and get you settled in.”

  Evan didn’t protest when she rose from the swing. Meg swayed slightly as she headed for the back door. She set her half-empty wine glass on the T.V. tray she’d set up near the swing, then went inside and headed down the hallway to put fresh sheets on the guest bed. Evan was probably a little too tipsy to drive anyway. She doubted he’d make it back to his car in the dark in his current condition. He’d told her he’d parked down the road near the bridge. That was a long walk. Especially in the dark.

  As Meg pulled fresh sheets out of the linen closet, she heard Evan moving around in the kitchen. She was beginning to wonder now if drinking had been wise. She herself had already consumed two glasses of wine and was a bit tipsy. What if one of Larry’s goons was out there in the forest watching them?

  A sudden uneasiness crept down her spine. Had she and Evan been foolish to linger outside after dark, talking and laughing, drinking wine, where they would be easy targets for anyone who came upon them?

  No. She was pretty sure that if someone had followed Evan, they would have already come and snatched her up and taken her to Larry. She was being paranoid.

  She stripped the bed, quickly made it up with the clean sheets.

  The screen door slapped shut. Evan must have gone back out to sit in the swing.

  Rolling the dirty sheets into a ball, she headed back down the hallway to the living room. She opened the door leading to the basement laundry room and tossed the sheets down the stairs. She’d wash them tomorrow when she did laundry.

  The uneasiness returned, lodging itself in her stomach.

  Evan was in danger.

  Meg spun around. She raced for the back door.

  A loud boom! exploded just outside the house. Glass shattered, her kitchen window spraying tiny shards of glass into the sink and all over the countertop.

  Meg screamed, dropping to her knees and banging her cast against the floor. Pain shot through her wrist. She grimaced.

  The porch swing squeaked as it slowly swung back and forth, back and forth. Until finally the squeaking stopped.

  Oh God, Evan!

  Her heart in her throat, Meg crawled toward the kitchen counter where her purse sat. Inside was her pepper spray. She snatched up her purse just as the screen door flew open and a man entered her house. He was dressed all in black and gripped a black pistol in his right hand. His face was covered with a black ski mask.

  His gaze centered on her.

  “Get up!” He motioned with the gun. “Now!”

  Meg kept a death grip on her purse, fumbling inside for the pepper spray while she slowly did as the man instructed.

  “Drop the purse!” he ordered. He stepped menacingly toward her.

  Finally her fingers clutched the pepper spray. Meg dropped the purse, gripping the pepper spray in her hand, and swung her good arm toward the stranger with the tiny spray canister.

  His arm arced out, trying to block her, but she held onto the pepper spray, aiming at his face. He turned his head away, but he wasn’t fast enough. Meg pressed down on the nozzle. The man staggered backward, screaming obscenities and trying to ward off the spray that she squirted into his face. Most of the spray missed him, blocked by the ski mask he wore. But a small amount of the pepper spray reached its mark. He snarled and lunged blindly at her.

  “You bitch!” His arms flailed around, trying to find her. “You’re going to pay for that!”

  Meg ducked past him. She ran for the door. He grabbed her arm, pulling back. Meg wrenched free and thundered out onto the back porch.

  She came to an abrupt halt on the porch. Evan lay in the porch swing. Blood splattered all over the back of the swing and the house behind him. Meg sucked in a horrified breath. A neat little hole pierced the center of his forehead.

  Oh my God, Evan!

  Forcing back a scream, she stumbled down the porch steps.

  “Get back here!” the man shouted, yanking open the screen door. “You’re coming with me!” He rubbed at his eyes, then blinked at her.

  Meg fled into the forest toward Zach’s house. If she could get to Zach, she knew he would save her.

  Oh God, oh God, Evan!

  Her heart thumping loudly in her ears, Meg ran blindly through the dark forest, tripping over rocks, stumbling over fallen branches, crashing into broken tree trunks. Her pursuer thrashed in the underbrush behind her. So close. The wine dulled her reflexes, but terror kept her moving forward.

  Oh Evan, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.

  She darted behind a large tree trunk and hunkered down, waiting as the man thundered past. Then she raced toward Zach’s house.

  Bruised and battered, she finally made her way through the trees to Zach’s property. The lights were on, so someone must be home.

  Her pursuer crashed through the trees behind her. He wasn’t far behind.

  She tripped up Zach’s porch steps and pounded on the front door.

  “Help!” she shouted, pounding on the door and pushing the doorbell at the same time. “Zach! Help! Hellllp!” She kept pounding and ringing, pounding and ringing. She cast a quick glance behind her as her pursuer came out of the forest.

  The front door yanked open. Meg stumbled into the house. Zach caught her as she tripped over the threshold.

  “What the hell?”

  His gaze jerked to something behind her. His eyes went wide. He dived for the floor, taking Meg with him, kicking the door shut with his right foot just as another gunshot rang out.

  Meg screamed when the bullet lodged into the front door, splintering the wood with a loud crack. Zach rolled her across the floor away from the door, then yanked her behind a big leather couch.

  “Stay down!” he hissed. Then he glanced toward the stairs and shouted, “Kristen! Stay in your room! Don’t come out until I say!”

  He glanced back at Meg. “Are you all right?”

  Her palms hurt where she’d scraped them on the ground. Her knees throbbed where she’d stumbled into branches. Her shins burned where she’d cut them on twigs and rocks. But she was alive.

  Evan, her best friend, the one person she trusted, hadn’t been so lucky. He was dead. Dead. Because of her. She’d killed him. It was all her fault.

  Her heart twisted, squeezed. Her throat seized up.

  Oh Evan, I’m so sorry!

  She nodded shakily, drew in a ragged breath. She swallowed back the tears.

  Silence followed. No more gunshots pierced the night. Had the man left? Or was he waiting for them to come out?

  Meg’s brain hurt. A headache was coming on. She shouldn’t have drunk any wine.

  Then it hit her hard, the truth piercing her heart like a sharp blade. Evan was dead. Murdered. Because of her.

  If she hadn’t been drinking, she might have been more aware and Evan might still be alive. She gulped in a breath, then another. Oh God! Oh Evan, I’m so sorry!

  A tear trickled down her cheek. Then another. She started to shake. It was all her fault. She’d killed Evan. She’d killed her best friend.

  Zach swore. He glanced back toward the door, listening. Then he snagged Meg around the waist. He bolted to his feet and hauled her toward the stairs. She didn’t protest. She didn’t have time to. He took the stairs two at a time, carrying Meg with him all the way to the top. Carrying her as easily as if s
he weighed no more than a small child.

  He pounded on the second door to the left. “Kristen. Open up. I need you to stay with Meghan until I get back.”

  The door flew open. Zach dropped Meg to the floor. Kristen stared out into the hallway, her eyes wide. “Meghan?” Her eyes grew even bigger when she spied Meg. “I thought your name was Kim.”

  Meg’s face burned. “I…no, my real name is Meg. I had to pretend to be someone else because that guy outside is trying to kill me.”

  Kristen eyed her suspiciously. “I thought you were my friend. Friends don’t lie to each other.” She turned on her heel and marched back into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

  Meg flinched. Shit. She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath. She hadn’t meant to hurt Kristen.

  Zach cleared his throat. Meg opened her eyes and spun toward him.

  “See what happens when you lie?” He stared hard at her. “You hurt people.”

  Meg swallowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

  He turned away and bolted back down the stairs. Moments later Meg heard Zach’s voice from downstairs. He was talking to someone on the police radio. Probably calling in his fellow cops. Meg stood in the hallway in indecision.

  Zach thundered back up the stairs. He paused in front of Meg.

  “What happened?” he demanded. “Who’s out there?”

  “A guy,” she whispered. “I don’t know who he was.” She drew in another shaky breath. “He k-killed Evan.”

  Her heart squeezed again.

  Oh God, Evan! I’m so sorry.

  “What?” Zach leaned close, peering down at her, his face expressionless. “Explain.”

  “After you left this afternoon, Evan showed up. He said he’d been hiding, waiting for the right moment to contact me. He went into hiding because Larry had threatened him. We were sitting and talking and I went inside for a moment and then there was a g-gunshot and the kitchen window s-shattered and a guy came in and he had a gun and he was pointing it at me. I sprayed him with p-pepper spray and ran for the back door.” She squeezed her eyes shut as the horrifying memory returned.