“You might have some memory loss,” Caleb explained. “It isn't the memory eraser that some date rape drugs can be, but I want you to be careful.” He glanced at Carter. “You're in charge.”
“When is he not?” she muttered, causing both men to chuckle.
“You're fine, little sister. Thank God for that.”
“It's Tiffany I'm worried about,” she answered truthfully. “She was pinned by that truck, and I bet she'll need surgery.”
Caleb tried and failed to hide his smile. “If I know anything about Tiffany Morgan, it's that she'll work through whatever she has to, to get her man. Then, and only then, will she let herself be treated as necessary.”
“Pretty much,” Carter agreed with her brother. “She wouldn't even let Delmonico help her in or out of Walker's LX.”
“Of course not.” They continued to talk about the both Chris and Tiffany for a moment before Caleb was called out of the room.
“Ready to go home?” Carter asked.
“As long as we bring Phil with us.”
Carter's eyebrows scrunched. “You thought I'd leave him here?”
“I insisted he come, so...”
“Don't worry, Lark, I've got you.”
~*~
“I've got a bad feeling about this,” Walker said about fifteen minutes into their twenty-minute drive home from the hospital. “It doesn't feel right.”
“When did you become a Jedi?” Carter joked, but his gut tightened at his brother's remark. He felt it too, and it wasn't good.
Walker was about to say something further when the SUV skidded across the road, resting on the shoulder after some impressive evasive maneuvers from the writer. “I hate it when I'm right.”
“You,” Walker looked pointedly at Camryn and Carter, “stay here,” his brother directed as he slid from the vehicle to check the reason for the tire blow out. He wasn't gone long before he delivered news no one expected. “Caltrops.”
“Any chance someone laid them for someone else?” Phil asked.
“No,” Carter answered. “This is essentially a private road. My house is down this way with no neighbors for miles. “Shit.”
“Someone wants you real bad,” Phil said.
“Money. She wants money,” Camryn replied. “So, let's give it to her.”
“She kidnapped you, and you want to pay her?” Carter knew his face was screwed up in a strange expression, and he made no effort to stop it.
“I want her to think I will, to think we'll give her whatever it is she's looking for.”
“And if that's you dead?”
She tilted her head. “Okay, not that.”
“Or the club?”
She shook her head. “Fine, not that, either.” She sucked in a breath. “I want her to think we'll give her anything she's asking for, and then I want to nail her to the wall for everything she's done. She killed Theo!”
“Allegedly,” Carter added. He could admit that he still had trouble believing Abby was a murderer, even when it had been repeated more than once. He had a hard time reconciling any of what he had been told with the young assistant who had managed to keep him on schedule.
“So, how do we do that? I mean, she laced the road with caltrops so we couldn't go home.”
“Dylan,” Carter answered. “Or at least his people.” He pulled out his phone and made a call, detailing the situation. “A couple close protection agents based nearby are on the way.”
Walker turned around in his seat to eye Camryn. “Why can't you be normal?”
“What's the fun in that?” Cam quipped.
“I was having plenty of fun before I answered my door,” Phil growled, his smile taking the bite out of his words. “Gotta keep the blood pumping.”
“The Everett family is good for that.”
~*~
“How long do we have to wait?” Camryn asked, the feeling of dread increasing with each passing moment. She'd wanted to do something, show Abby she'd give her whatever it was she'd asked for if the other woman would just leave her alone, but the chances of that were getting slimmer and slimmer. If federal agents and police officers couldn't catch her, what made Cam think she could?
“They're supposed to be close,” Carter answered pulling her closer to him. “You know these guys by now, Alec and Sean.”
“You'd think they'd be tired of my family by now,” she muttered, disgusted with the fact that Trent, McKenna, and Buchanan had to even send close protection agents for another Everett. Dylan worked for them for God's sake. “Money really is the root of all evil.”
“Come on, now,” Walker chided. “The love of money is the root of all evil. At the same time, money can do some pretty amazing things.”
“Right now, I wish it would go away and leave me alone. Money, a building, and a crazy person have landed a friend dead, me stuck in the trunk of a car, Tiffany a broken leg, and God knows what else before this is through. It would be so much easier if we were just middle class.”
“Don't go wishing your life away, girl,” Phil put in. “I haven't known you but half a day, but I know you're a fighter, and I know you and your family have worked hard for what they have. Don't let anyone take that from you.”
She'd opened her mouth to say something more when the rear window shattered. She didn't remember unbuckling her belt, but Carter had her sheltered under his body on the floor of the backseat before the ringing left her ears.
“Everybody okay?” Walker asked. “I really hate when I'm right.”
“Shut up about being right for a minute and figure out where the shots are coming from.” Carter's voice was hard as stone, his muscles tense above her as he spoke. “We knew there was a fucking murderer after us, so getting shot at is not exactly unexpected. You're the one who found the caltrops.”
This was a set up from the get go. “Fuck.”
“Since I left my bulletproof car at home, we're gonna have to lay low and wait for O'Dell and Cartwright to show up and save our asses.”
“I've got my gun, but I'm afraid it'll only do so much. That was a high-powered rifle that went through the window, so I'd say the shooter is out a ways.”
Phil's assessment made her think of the last time she was trapped under Carter with broken glass everywhere. “Like the school,” she said. “What if Holden didn't do it?”
“What if he was just trying to kill you?”
He wouldn't do that, would he? Who the hell knew anymore? “Fuck.”
More shots rang out, pinging off the steel of the vehicle, shattering another window. Mercifully, it didn't seem like anyone had been hit by anything aside from flying glass, but how long could that stay true? Right now would be a great time for the police, or bodyguards, or hell, a goddamn biker gang to show up.
Chapter Eighteen
“Shots fired on Elm,” the radio cracked, and Chris's heart nearly stopped. Glancing at Tiffany, he told her, “Carter Jamieson lives on Elm,” as he pulled a U-turn in the middle of the street.
“We're headed to Carter Jamieson's. Yes, because of the shots. What did you expect us to do? Yes. We'll meet up with you later if possible,” Tiffany directed into the phone while he sped down the road. “We'll keep you apprised. No, I won't hurt myself more.”
He held in the smirk he wanted to make with her last comment. He assumed Brandon Davis was being a bit of a mother hen, and the thought gave him pause. A few years ago, he'd been sure the man was a dirty cop. Now, he wouldn't go so far as to call him a friend, but he and Davis had a mutual respect for each other. Instead of pursuing that line of thought, he asked, “Who do you think is shooting?”
“Abby? Hired help? Someone no one has told us about because this thing has been twisted up since the beginning and makes no fucking sense?”
He didn't disagree. Nodding, he floored it toward Jamieson's house praying they'd make it in time to make a difference.
A dark SUV was a ahead of them, its plate identifying itself as one Trent, McKenna, and Buchanan's vehi
cles. He was thankful for the backup, knowing whoever was in the SUV was well trained and likely former military. Right now, if he had civilians taking fire, he was happy to have all the help he could.
At a bend in the road, he saw Walker Jamieson's vehicle stopped with four flat tires and half a dozen bullet holes. He watched as the bodyguards parked on the shoulder and crept toward the disabled truck, their training evident in every movement. The two men ushered the four passengers away from the vehicle, nearly shoving them in what he hoped was a reinforced SUV. Knowing the civilians were safe, he turned to Tiffany, “Let's find the bastard.”
“Works for me. We know the shots are coming from that direction,” she gestured out the driver's window, “but it could be coming from further out.” She grimaced. “I can't make it on foot.”
He didn't even know how she was sitting in his truck but bit his tongue. “Sure can't. So, you're gonna cover me.”
“You get shot, and I'll kill you.” Her expression was fierce regardless of the absurdity of her comment.
He held back the laugh he wanted to let out, giving her a sarcastic, “Love you, too,” instead.
She stuck out her tongue before grinning. “Good thing I'm a good shot.”
“Better thing is I've got a pair of binocs back there. Let's figure out where I'm going.” He flipped another U-turn, then drove his SUV straight into the woods off-road, finding a mostly concealed spot to park. “I think this is the first time I've used this thing this way.”
She made a disgusted sound. “What it's made for, you mean?”
“It's roomy and good in snow. What else do you want from me?” He chuckled, the mood surprisingly light despite the gravity of the situation.
She ignored him, her attention focused through the binoculars. After a few moments that felt much longer, she whispered triumphantly, “I've got you, you fucking asshole.” She pointed toward an oak tree to the left about three hundred yards away. “Prone, no spotter, black hat.”
He opened the door. “Call Carter and let him know what's up, make sure they're as safe as they look, and if one of those bodyguards is free to cover me since my backup is a little broken, that'd be nice.”
“Done.”
Moments later he was creeping through the woods alone with only a handgun and no real backup unless one of the TMB guys was following, sneaking up on a sniper. Just another day in Aylesford. He picked his way around twigs, making as little noise as possible, creeping up on what he prayed was the blind side of his quarry. He made it another few steps before the shooter turned their head, revealing a profile he didn't expect.
“Leanne Graves, you're under arrest for attempted murder,” he announced as he wrenched her hands behind her.
“Fuck you!” the woman spat, trying to twist from his grasp. “I didn't shoot anyone.”
Right, since shooting at people isn't harmful in the slightest. “Not for lack of trying.” He gave her her rights before gathering her rifle and marching her to his SUV. “You know anything about Abby? Something you're not telling us? Something that roped your own son into this mess?”
“Lawyer.”
“Play it that way if you want, sister. Doesn't make your life easier.”
Her dark eyes glinted with temper. “Don't care. Lawyer.”
“What were you trying to accomplish, anyway, shooting at the Jamieson's like that?”
“Lawyer.”
They reached Tiffany then, and he wished he had a camera to document the shock on his friend's face. “Leanne?”
The other woman was snarling with anger, but when she opened her mouth, it was only to say, “Lawyer.”
“Talkative this afternoon,” Tiffany found her voice.
Chris shook his head. “Let's get our asses in, get her processed and see what else is going on. The other deal with the Feds has me antsy.”
“You're driving, Delmonico.”
“That I am.”
~*~
Carter sat in yet another SUV, this time with actual bodyguards protecting them. He wished that made him breathe easier, but after the twenty-four hours they'd been through, nothing could take the anxious feeling away.
He glanced at Cam, leaning on his shoulder in the back seat once again, the rose gold of her curls gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Even battered as she was, she was beautiful, and he thanked God and every other deity in any pantheon for her safety. He wanted to believe they were finally safe and promised he would give her the wedding she deserved—as soon as he could get her to an altar. They'd wasted too much time, and life was short.
“Think we're done with the life-in-peril situations for the day?” Camryn asked quietly, and he appreciated that she could joke after the last few days.
“God, I hope so.” He smoothed the hair off her face. “We're going to your parents.”
She gave him a small smile. “Everyone ends up there when someone is trying to kill them.”
“Truth.”
She toyed with a loose thread on his shirt. “I hope nothing happens to them because of me.”
“Everyone will be fine,” he promised, hoping like hell he wasn't lying. His track record wasn't good so far, but this time it had to be true. Didn't it?
The ride was silent the rest of the way to the Everett's newly constructed home. Since it had been razed a couple years back when Camryn's sister was being terrorized, the replacement was larger and grander than the last. The bodyguard behind the wheel punched in a code to open the gate, and the SUV found its way to the garage easily. When they walked into the house, Charlie and Carolyn Everett were ready, coffee mugs and soft sofas waiting. Before words were even exchanged, Carolyn wrapped Camryn in a hug. “My girl.”
Leaning into her mother, Cam gave her a watery smile. “Everything is better now.”
“Maybe not, but it will be.”
“I have you, and I have Carter. What more can a girl need?”
“Safety? Security? To know she isn't going to be drugged and pushed into the trunk of a car?” He knew he sounded weary and exasperated, but he was both of those things and more. What he couldn't figure was how everything fit together, and why his assistant was implicated or whether what he was being told was even true. He sighed. “I can't bear to lose you, Lark.”
Her mother smiled at his use of the nickname. “We don't want to think about the possibilities, Carter, but as we've seen in the last few years...” she trailed off for a moment. “All we can hope is that we're strong enough to come out on the other side intact and with the ones we love.”
He wrapped his arms around Camryn, pulling her into the shelter of his body. “Always.”
“Right answer, boy. Right answer.” Phil approved from the couch he was occupying alone. “Y'all are fancy but loving. I like it.”
He'd almost forgotten their guest, Cam's savior in West Virginia. “I'm sure you're tired,” he started only to be cut off by Carolyn Everett.
“We have rooms ready upstairs,” she finished the thought, “and I know you all need the rest.”
“I need a shower more than anything,” Cam said, her expression sour, “but don't I need to worry about evidence or something?”
“Too late now,” he answered, not caring about the investigations. Cam needed to feel better, so that's what should happen. If the police didn't get what they needed in the hospitals, that was on them. “Make sure you don't get your dressing wet,” he advised instead of voicing the tumult of emotions he was harboring. “Get clean, and then we'll rest.”
Her smile lit him up like a bonfire. “Love you.”
He kissed her then, a light brush of lips he desperately wanted to make into more and sent her on her way. As soon as she was out of view, he slumped into the nearest chair and let himself fall apart just a little. He could have lost her. She could be dead, and there was nothing he could have done to stop it. The thought was chilling, and the implication worse. Someone he had employed tried to kill his fiancée, the woman he loved, and he had been oblivious.
He was a man who was supposed to be a brilliant legal mind, a man who was supposed to keep those he loved safe, a man who had failed.
“No one could have seen it coming,” Charlie Everett said from his chair. “Stop beating yourself up about it. We don't blame you, she doesn't blame you. You need to stop blaming yourself.”
“I should've known.”
“How?”
He didn't know.
“Exactly.” The older man made a noise. “Even if you'd suspected something, what could you have done?”
He didn't know that either, so instead said something seemingly apropos of nothing. “I've loved her for a long time. Too long, in fact.”
“I know, son.”
He blinked at that. “What?”
Carolyn chuckled at the conversation. “We aren't blind, dear.”
“It was wrong.”
“Did you do something we don't know about? Hurt her?”
He recoiled at the implication. “Of course not. I'd never hurt her. She was just so young.”
“And you didn't do anything until she was twenty-five years old. Marry her quick, I want more babies to love on.” His future mother-in-law grinned with the thought of more grandchildren.
For the first time in a couple days, he let out a true laugh. “We'll see what we can do.”
“You'd better!”
He grinned. He'd lucked in on the in-law lottery. “I'd better get my tired butt into bed.”
“Get up there, son. You're a good one, and we've always loved you and your family. You have to know that.”
He smiled at Camryn's parents. “I do.”
Chapter Nineteen
“You've got to be shitting me,” Davis said across the phone line. “Leanne Graves? You cleared her for the murder.”
“Either I was wrong, or there's more to this.”
“More?” The detective growled. “How could there be even fucking more?”
He threw a glance at Tiffany. They'd taken Leanne to Aylesford PD where she was currently sitting in a cell and refusing to talk, with or without her lawyer. “Hell if I know. We need to get together with the Feds and lay all the cards on the table.”
Ache For Me (Romantic Suspense) (The Everetts of Tyler Book 4) Page 16
