Tempting Evil

by Allison Brennan

  But today, she had helped ensure that six families—including Tyler—had their sons brought in safe. They’d be going home tomorrow.

  “Is something wrong?” Trixie asked.

  Jo hadn’t seen her sister sitting on the far side of the room at the kitchenette table where their grandmother used to play solitaire in the wee hours of the morning when she couldn’t sleep. Trixie was doing the same thing. Jo hadn’t noticed the faint sound of cards sliding against cards until it stopped.

  “No.” Jo carefully wove her way among the sleeping bodies, noticing Leah lying on the side closest to Trixie. It was just like her niece to not want to be left out. She bent down to pull the blanket up. Love swelled. Whatever awful things had happened that day four years ago, Leah had come out of it quite a wonderful girl.

  Jo sat down across from Trixie. “I was talking with Tyler and the federal agents. They’re going to move the kids to the Worthington ranch first thing in the morning, if the blizzard passes. I think Leah should go with them.”

  In the faint light, Trixie shook her head. “She’ll be a sitting duck! Look at what happened to you when you went to the Kimball homestead. You were nearly killed. Wyatt was shot.”

  “It’s not Leah they want.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “The FBI agents think—”

  “They don’t know anything. They haven’t been able to catch these guys for nine days! They came all the way from California to Montana. It’s ridiculous to think that they can stop them now.”

  Jo shook her head. “You’re being fatalistic.”

  “Me? That’s a switch.”

  “Shh.”

  “Don’t shh me!” But Trixie glanced at Leah and lowered her voice. “I’m scared.”

  “Me, too.”

  “How can they protect all those kids?”

  “Tyler is going to ask Sean and Craig Mann to escort them.”

  “No deputy?”

  “I think the Manns proved themselves today, Trix. If we take them to the Worthingtons, it’s a clear shot up the road. They can get there without trouble on the snowmobiles, ninety minutes max.”

  Jo softened her voice, touched Trixie’s hand. Her sister was trembling. “You can go, too.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m staying here.”

  “But it’s you he’s after.”

  “That’s why I don’t want to be anywhere near the kids. It’s safer for them. If anybody’s watching, they’ll know I’m not with them. They won’t follow.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know.” Everything Agent Vigo had said to her made sense. She didn’t understand Doug Chapman’s motivation, but Aaron Doherty wasn’t going to go after a bunch of preteens. He wanted her.

  “You think Leah will be safe?”

  “It will be safer than staying here.”

  Trixie bit her lower lip. “O-Okay,” she whispered.

  “What about you?”

  Trixie shook her head. “I’m not going.”

  “There’s something you need to know.” Jo glanced over to where Leah slept on the floor. Made sure her breathing was even, calm, that she was really asleep. Then she turned to Trixie. She had debated whether to share this information with her sister, but if the roles were reversed Jo would want to know the truth. It would come out in the media sooner or later. Jo leaned forward and whispered, “Aaron Doherty killed Linc in prison.”

  Trixie’s eyes widened. “No.”

  “He did. He told me, and the FBI confirmed. He killed Linc in some sort of vengeance revenge thing because Doherty was obsessed with me, or my books. I’m really not sure how it started, but it’s true.”

  “When the prison authority told me Linc was dead, I thought—I don’t know. But not this.”

  Jo squeezed her hands. “I know it’s hard. We’ll get through this. Trust Tyler. He knows what he’s doing. And there are four other cops here. They’ll find the two creeps and we’ll finally feel safe again.”

  Trixie shook her head. “Safe? I haven’t felt safe in years.”

  NINETEEN

  Jason told Deputy Duncan that he couldn’t sleep and was going to get something to eat.

  He’d heard every word Jo and her sister said.

  He left the suite of rooms and walked to the main lodge kitchen. He’d hated Montana when they first moved here. There was nothing to do. His Internet connection kept getting kicked off, television was on satellites that half the time didn’t work because of the mountains, and there was no movie theater in Dillon. They had to drive an hour just to see a stupid movie. In Dallas, even though they were in the suburbs, there was a ten-screened theater ten minutes in one direction, fifteen in the other.

  But there was something about this place that he had grown to like. Like he was home.

  Stupid thought, he knew. He’d never been here before, and when his dad told him they were moving to Montana he pitched a fit. He hadn’t wanted to come. He didn’t want to do anything, really, because life had gotten so complicated after his mother divorced his dad and moved him to San Diego.

  Then she got sick and brought him back. Died while Jason sat there holding her hand. She’d been so beautiful once, but the cancer ate her from the inside out and she was nothing but a hollow shell of the mother he knew. She hadn’t been perfect, but she’d loved him. And Jason would always remember that.

  Moving to Montana seemed like running away from memories of his mom, and he didn’t want to do it. But he didn’t like Dallas and had no one to turn to, no one but a dad he barely knew. He liked the beaches in San Diego, but he didn’t like the kids who teased him about his Texas twang so cruelly that he’d worked hard to lose it.

  He’d hated his dad for a long time. Why hadn’t he visited more often? Why hadn’t he let Jason come home?

  He knew the truth now, though his dad didn’t think he knew anything. His dad thought Jason didn’t pay attention, that when he was into his video games his ears suddenly stopped working.

  Not ever.

  He wanted to make his father happy, and he didn’t know how. But he knew he couldn’t make him worry, not like he did after his mom died and his dad thought he was depressed.

  “You, um, want to talk to someone?” Dad had asked one night after Jason got up at three a.m. Apparently neither of them had slept well in the months after Sharon McBride died.

  “No,” he said.

  “Well, let me know. You can talk to me, or,” he said quickly, “anyone you want.”

  Jason hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone but his mom, to find out answers to questions only she knew, but she was dead.

  Jason opened the refrigerator, looked around. He really wasn’t that hungry. He closed it and jumped at a voice.

  “Hi, Jason.”

  There was a small light next to the stove. Jo Sutton walked into the kitchen and asked, “Can I get you anything?”

  “Naw. I just couldn’t sleep.” He felt sheepish.

  “I saw you sneak out of Grandpa’s wing.”

  “I wasn’t sneaking.”

  “Okay, not sneaking.”

  “Where were you? I didn’t see you.”

  “Sitting in the great room next to the fireplace. I couldn’t sleep, either.”

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “In the den with Wyatt. He fell asleep in the chair. He needs a couple hours shut-eye. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “I heard.”

  Jo walked over to the refrigerator and took out a gallon of milk. “Milk helps me sleep.” She poured two tall glasses and handed one to Jason. “Sit.”

  He did, looking at the milk. He sipped, then guzzled half of the glass. “Nothing better than cold milk,” he said.

  “I agree.” She sat across from him. “You doing okay?”

  He shrugged.

  “You acted bravely today, Jason. You are definitely your father’s son.”

  “You think so?”

  “I think so.”
>
  “I want to be a detective someday. Maybe.”

  “That’s a good goal.”

  They didn’t say anything for a long time. Then Jo said, “You have something on your mind.”

  “Something Dad said earlier.”

  She didn’t push him, and Jason was glad about that. He wanted to talk to her. She just might be the only person who really understood his feelings.

  “Dad said you won’t marry him right now because you still miss your husband and son.”

  She didn’t say anything and Jason feared he’d said something wrong.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, it’s okay. He’s right.”

  “I miss my mom, too,” he said quietly.

  Jo reached out and touched his hand. “I know you do. It’ll never go away completely. But it gets easier.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “It’s okay to miss her.”

  “My mom made mistakes.”

  “We all make mistakes.”

  “But I feel guilty when I think about them. Because she’s dead. And I want to make it up to her, but I can’t.”

  “Try really hard to only remember the good things. No one is perfect, but your mother loved you.”

  Jason’s voice caught as he said, “But she took me away from Dad. He didn’t fight for me.”

  Jo’s heart went out to Jason. He had been holding so much back for so long. Tyler had told her early in their relationship about his ex-wife Sharon. She’d cheated on him and Tyler gave her a second chance. Then she cheated on him again, and filed for divorce.

  Tyler might have won custody, but he didn’t want to put the then-six-year-old Jason in the middle of an ugly legal battle. Sharon had threatened to fight him tooth and nail.

  But when she was dying of cancer, she came back and Tyler had taken her into his home, getting to know a son he’d only seen a couple times a year, before his ex-wife died. It had been hard on Tyler, but it was equally hard on Jason. Harder in many ways.

  “You know why he didn’t fight for custody.”

  Jason shook his head. “He never told me.”

  “You should ask him.”

  “Do you know?”

  She nodded.

  “Tell me.”

  Jo didn’t want to get in the middle of it, but Jason was a boy and she did understand how sometimes boys couldn’t talk to their fathers about feelings. It made them think they were less manly. But with women—with mothers—it was easier.

  “He didn’t want a big, nasty fight with your mom. And she didn’t want to share you. The love a mother has for a child is powerful.”

  “She used me to hurt Dad.”

  “No. She loved you.”

  “I know. She loved me a lot, but—” Jason didn’t continue.

  Jo squeezed his hand. “Remember the good times. Remember how it felt when your mom hugged you. Remember her laugh. What was her favorite flower?”

  “Red roses, I think.”

  “When you get home, plant a red rosebush.”

  “I don’t think they’ll survive in the snow.”

  “There’s some miniature roses you can grow indoors.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “Then when you look at the roses, you’ll remember only the good stuff. And that’s all that’s worth remembering, Jason. All the other stuff—the mistakes—we can’t think about.”

  “Does it work for you?”

  Jo looked down. It hadn’t, not for a long time. She’d forgotten every mistake, every flaw to the extent that she had idealized her marriage, put her husband on a pedestal that no man could topple. No one could compete with her memories of Ken because he had become flawless in her mind. A saint.

  “Yes. But for a long time, I missed my husband and son so much that I was living in the past. I didn’t want to forget them.”

  “I don’t want to forget Mom.”

  “You never will. And I’ll never forget Ken and Timmy.”

  “Does that mean you won’t marry Dad?”

  “No. It means that I have to put everyone in their place and then I’ll be ready. Do you understand?”

  Jason nodded. She wasn’t sure he did, or if he was just humoring her. She wasn’t even sure she understood.

  “You okay to go back to bed? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

  Jason nodded. He stood, walked around the table and spontaneously hugged her.

  “Good night, Jo.”

  Jo sat there for a long, long time.

  I love that boy.

  And for the first time she battled the guilt and won.

  The silence woke Aaron.

  For nine years he’d lived in a six-foot-by-nine-foot prison. He might as well have been in an open coffin. With all the solitude he had in prison, there had never been total silence.

  Silence.

  The wind had stopped. There was nothing but a quiet blanket over the valley. He glanced at his watch, one he’d stolen off the dead O’Brien. Three-ten. Still time before they put their plan in motion.

  Doug couldn’t make a bomb to detonate as Aaron wanted, so they came up with another idea with the same premise.

  Aaron could quote the entire article written about Joanna that he carried with him everywhere, so he didn’t need to pull it out of his pocket to remember a passage that rang ironically true now.

  Jo says she plans out all her novels in detail. “I like a clear road map of where I’m going,” she said.

  When asked if she’d ever gone on a detour, she laughed. “Many, many times. But I’ve always discovered when I reached the end of the story that I had laid the foundation of the detour, even in my notes, often without realizing it.”

  That’s exactly what Aaron and Doug were doing tomorrow. A detour that Aaron had unknowingly created yesterday morning.

  When Joanna had left him at the top of the cellar stairs, Aaron decided to see what was down there. Not with a specific reason in mind, just a curiosity since he had thirty minutes before he had to meet his love.

  He’d put the box Joanna handed him down, flicked on the light, and went down the narrow stairs. The cellar was dank, musty, and cold. Shelf after shelf of canned food lined the walls. Peaches, apples, prunes, sauces, jams, more than Aaron could count. He wondered if Stan Wood did all this, or maybe Joanna. She lovingly prepared all this food for them to share through the years, marking and dating each jar with her perfect script.

  There were six windows in the basement, three on one wall, three on another. What did they need with windows down here? He crossed over to one. They were all locked from the inside, three feet wide and two feet tall.

  Big enough for someone to slip in.

  He unlocked one window on each side and pushed them open just a fraction against the snow.

  Just enough to get fingers underneath from the outside and pull all the way open without too much sound.

  At the time, he didn’t think about why he would need to break in to the lodge considering that he was a guest.

  But now? Now, it was the only way he could get inside.

  I’m coming, Joanna. Wait for me. Dream of me.

  Forgive me.

  (She’ll never forgive you.)

  Aaron shook the errant voice from his mind. Of course she would forgive him. She loved him.

  Last night they had made love. She’d come to his room wearing a pale blue gown. She wore nothing beneath and he saw her nipples hard, pushing against the filmy fabric.

  “Joanna.”

  “I’ve been waiting for you, Aaron.”

  “You know who I am?”

  “I knew the minute I saw you.” She took his hand. “I’ve dreamed of you forever.”

  He touched her face with the back of his hand. “I love you.”

  “I’ll never leave you, Aaron. I’ll be with you forever.”

  And she took him to bed…

  Aaron bolted upright. The light had changed. He’d fa
llen asleep.

  “Must have had a nice fucking dream.” Doug laughed. He was standing in the kitchenette drinking coffee.

  Aaron looked down and saw the wet stain spread across the blanket that had covered his naked body.

  “We don’t have a lot of time, so clean your dick off and get dressed,” Doug said, eating food he’d stolen from the dead Trotsky’s cabin.

  Aaron went to the bathroom, red with embarrassment. If he didn’t need Doug for this part of the plan, he should kill him now.

  He looked in the mirror, his face still red and puffy from the bear spray Joanna had hit him with yesterday.

  (Kill her.)

  He shook his head violently back and forth, trying to rid himself of the tempting voice.

  He didn’t want to kill Joanna. He loved her. He loved her dammit!

  His fist slammed into the mirror. It shattered around him. Blood dripped onto the porcelain sink.

  Aaron’s breath quickened as he watched the blood ooze in rivlets down the side of the sink.

  Pounding on the door. “Stop jerking off, Doherty, and get your ass out here. We have to go or it’ll be too late.”

  Aaron rinsed the blood off his hand and the dry sperm off his cock. He dressed and stepped through the doorway.

  “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  TWENTY

  The silence woke Jo.

  She slid out of bed. Dawn hadn’t yet broke, the sky was still overcast, but the blizzard had passed. No snow fell; no wind wrapped fresh powder around the lodge like a cloak. Taking Wyatt and the kids to safety had become a whole lot easier.

  Jo dressed quickly. If Chapman and Doherty were out there waiting for daybreak to attack, their job in the lodge was to get the kids off immediately.

  Jo entered the lobby as Tyler spoke in low tones to his deputies, the FBI agents, the Manns, and Sam Nash.

  “Everyone is going to the Worthingtons’. When you get there, if possible a Life Flight helicopter will come for Wyatt. If not, then Nash will take him over the pass into Idaho.

  “Craig, you and Sean are to stay with the kids at all times. I have no reason to believe that Doherty or Chapman have gone east toward the Worthington ranch, but be careful and fully alert. I spoke with Lance Worthington just a few minutes ago and he said everything was clear. He and Kyle have plenty of provisions.