Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  In his late sixties with the dark brooding eyes that ran on the Geller side of the family, Frank did his best to look sheepish. The nervousness was real though. Knowing full well he didn’t like to tangle with his volatile nephews, especially this one, he’d taken his sweet time finding a flight back to L.A. after receiving the news about the murders.

  One didn’t rush back into a cesspool when you were enjoying all manner of perversions, the best money could buy, in an exotic foreign land. That would have been incredibly foolish. And Frank Geller was many things, but foolish wasn’t one of them.

  It was no skin off his nose if someone had finally taken matters into their own hands and dealt with a few vendettas from the past. Settling a few scores was to be expected. No one knew the risks of doing business like they had over the past forty years better than his own two sisters, Jessica and Eva. And certainly Sumner Boyd had made his own enemies throughout the years.

  Even in the dark, staring into the soulless eyes of his nephew, Frank wasn’t about to be so bold and forthright to share those feelings now. That would only feed deeper into Connor’s instability. Frank snaked an unsteady hand through his dyed-too-many-times slick black hair and merely stuck his hands in his pockets, tried to look chagrin.

  “We were staying at an exclusive resort. When we booked our accommodations, cell phone service wasn’t exactly our primary concern at the time, if you know what I mean. How was I supposed to know some nutcase would be back here in L.A. exterminating my family?”

  “Yeah, well, if I were you I’d crack open my wallet and hire a personal bodyguard, one that isn’t too smart and is willing to take a bullet for you because this nutcase isn’t just brilliant at what he does—he’s seriously pissed.

  “Because Frank, my friend, of the four original partners you’re the only one left standing. Do you have any ideas what the hell is going on here? Other than the fact he’s discovered that our little family law firm started its roots and all with a double murder.”

  Frank tried the deep-in-thought look and scratched his chin. But he didn’t dare talk back to this one. He knew better.

  “I understand Alana’s murder triggered this whole thing. Why would anyone wait so long for revenge though? Did you consider that? Forty years is a long damned time. I can’t imagine who could have found out. And Cade tells me Auslo and Taft couldn’t locate the incriminating piece of evidence.”

  Connor’s eyes flashed.

  Even though Connor was seated, Frank took a step back.

  “You aren’t in court, Frank. It’s just the two of us here. You don’t have to tippy-toe around the word. They couldn’t find the gun, the .357. They tore up Alana’s house, Kit’s, Gloria’s, even searched Boston’s software company. Didn’t find a goddamned thing in the process, total waste of time, total waste of money. And Auslo and Taft were two total wastes of excuses for lackeys.”

  Frank saw Connor starting to work himself up. “We’ve no idea if Alana even still owned the thing. She could have gotten rid of it ages ago.”

  Connor snorted. “Didn’t know the bitch very well, did you? She kept it for leverage, Frank. Blackmail material, you stupid fuck.”

  Frank tried reason. “Now we don’t know that for certain, Connor. It’s probably long gone by now anyway and nothing to worry about. I certainly couldn’t find the damned gun when I was married to said bitch, and believe me, I looked. We don’t even know if, in the larger scheme of things, the gun is that significant anymore.”

  “Frank, the gun is the least of our problems,” Collin pointed out, as he sauntered outside to join them, wearing nothing but jeans, bare-chested except for the large bandage covering an obvious wound to his shoulder. Other than being a little pasty-faced from blood loss, a fact that stood out because his coal black hair was still wet from his shower, Collin showed no signs of having stared death in the face twenty-four hours earlier. In his macho way he looked rather cocky, pleased with himself that he’d survived a bullet.

  He walked over to the outdoor bar, uncapped a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue, and poured a generous portion into a crystal goblet.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Frank asked.

  At Frank’s obvious stupidity, Connor laughed. “Haven’t you heard? The nutcase tried to take him out―and missed.”

  “Missed? To hell you say. What does this look like, a paper cut? It was the same SOB who took out Auslo and Taft with deadly accuracy.” Collin suddenly remembered the bullet hitting him, the searing pain, and how lucky he’d been just to get up and run out of that warehouse.

  But like the immature man he was, Collin made like he was target shooting and formed a gun with his index finger, sent it jabbing through the air in Frank’s direction. “You’re next, uncle of mine. If I had to put money on it, you’re the one’s he’s gunning for next, old man. I’m lucky his aim was off, so lucky I might even go out and buy a lottery ticket.” Aiming his finger in a mock shot, he added, “Pow!”

  Connor turned slowly to face his brother. “You can be such an idiot some times. How can you joke about this? The doctor said one inch the other way and we’d be planning another funeral. I’m surprised you’re up and at ’em and not milking this for all it’s worth. Did you get a good look at this guy?”

  “Are you kidding? It happened too fast. One minute I was body-shielding Kit, the next my chest was on fire.” Collin said this with all the guile of a man playing his part to the fullest.

  Connor shot a disbelieving look toward Collin. “Save it, bro. You don’t have to pretend in front of Frank. That may be the official story for Jacob and Adam. And knowing our less than brilliant-cousins they’ll never figure it out. The Gatz branch of the family has always been more than a little slow on the uptake. But when it’s me, I don’t want your bullshit. You were supposed to let Auslo and Taft handle the abduction while you waited back at the warehouse where no one would be able to connect you. That was what we agreed on.”

  Collin fidgeted from the line of coke he had consumed along with several of the pain killers the doctor had given him. “And you and Cade were supposed to get there in time to finish off Auslo and Taft.”

  “And you were supposed to wait until it was dark. Going off trying to act like Mr. Tough Guy almost got you killed. Now if they compare bullet wounds…”

  “Believe me, I provided the good doctor with enough financial incentive, he’s already lost my chart.”

  “Next time, follow the plan. This guy has to be a pro.”

  “That’s an understatement. One good thing though, he took care of our problem for us. Taft and Auslo won’t be offering us up and turning state’s evidence.”

  At that moment, Cade stormed outside through the terrace doors in a huff, obviously angry, headed straight for the bar, and poured a generous glass of whiskey. “If you guys are talking about our killer, you might want to take a look at this.” He shoved a folded sheet of paper into Conner’s chest. “I found that inside my locker this afternoon at the country club.”

  “Shit,” Connor uttered, as he rubbed his forehead.

  The note read: I know about the Parkers.

  “He must have followed me to the club.”

  “Or hired someone to put it there.”

  “Either way, he’s too close, sticking too goddamned close for comfort. I don’t like it, Connor. This guy is playing for real. I don’t think he plans on stopping with mom and pop either, not when that note was shoved in my face.”

  He turned to Frank. “You, my friend, are in serious shit. If I were you I’d get out of the country, take that lovely new wife that’s thirty years your junior, and get out of Dodge before she’s collecting your life insurance. Although, now that I think about it, knowing Charlise, she probably won’t shed too many tears over you, just cash the insurance check and start perusing the clubs for your replacement. Just so you know this guy is quick and deadly. He doesn’t mess around. Collin here was damn lucky he missed.”

  “The hell you say. Why does ev
eryone keep saying that? Hello. Shot here, bullet taken out of my goddamned chest. The son of a bitch did not miss me.”

  Frank ignored Collin. “So far, he hasn’t gone after Eva’s kids. I know Adam and Jacob and Elle are taking precautions. As soon as I was apprised of the situation, I alerted my kids to do the same thing. Garrett, Scott, and Taylor are heightening their personal security. But I must say, for now, the man seems to be content with just you three.”

  Connor’s brow tightened. “So you’re throwing us to the wolves, is that it, Frank? Think again, pal. You think it will end with us. Well, don’t count on it, buddy. I think you’re full of shit. Let’s count the ways, exactly what we know.” He held up his fingers and ticked off the points. “First, he must have been especially pissed at Alana. I mean, twenty-one fucking stab wounds says, ‘I’ll show you bitch.’ And don’t forget, for the first few weeks he had the police convinced Kit offed her own mother. That was pretty fucking clever of him if you ask me.

  “Then, right after Alana, he takes care of Mother in the middle of the damned street, makes it look like a suicide. Then let’s see, he takes Eva’s body all the way out to a fucking abandoned strip shopping center which we know has a history, kills her there to make a point. And then, not a hundred yards from this very spot where we’re sitting, he takes out Dad on his own damn stretch of sand. I’d say, since you weren’t around so he’s pushing us up to priority one, going after Generation Number Two. I don’t think he’s gotten around to our cousins yet. But it’s only a matter of time before he does. Why you say? Because I don’t think he plans on stopping with us three.”

  Frank’s face showed Connor’s words had hit home. He looked pale and worried. “Maybe we should get everyone together, have a little family meeting.”

  “You think? Dumbass. Of course we get everyone together, apprise them of the situation. We’re in serious shit here, Frank. Either get with the program or, like Cade said, get the fuck out of Dodge.”

  Frank started to pace back and forth. “If all this comes out, the scandal would ruin us. The legacy we’ve worked so hard for over the years would be destroyed. If this guy knows about the Parker murders it stands to reason he’s out for revenge. It won’t stop with just me or you three.”

  Connor finally stood up, pointed a finger at Frank. “You stupid son of a bitch, fuck the scandal. If he’s successful, there won’t be anyone left to run the damned empire. Don’t you get it? He’s exterminating each of us one by one, the whole damned family. Kill the legacy.”

  Frank pulled out his cell phone and punched in a phone number. “I think we could use Jankovic on this. He owes me a favor. Let’s see how our nutcase likes going up against a real professional killer.”

  “That’s fine, Frank, but first he has to find the son of a bitch. And if you don’t think this guy’s real. Think again.”

  Collin calmly pointed out, “I hate to add to the pot, but Kit and Boston will have to go. They can’t be around to testify against me. That Holloway detective didn’t look as if he bought my side of the story. I’m not spending the next twenty years in San Quentin for kidnapping that bitch. Can this guy, this Jankovic, take care of Boston and Kit, too?”

  Cade shook his head. “If you had stuck with the plan, your beloved Kit would be history by now anyway. We can handle her and Boston.” Cade studied Collin. “You wouldn’t have done it anyway, Collin. You aren’t fooling anyone. You’re still too much in love with her to do it yourself.”

  Collin bristled at the accusation. But he didn’t deny it. He should have offed her when he had the chance last night. That would’ve shown Cade the way things were with Kit.

  Cade laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Leave it to me. I’ll take care of Kit.”

  Frank looked around the terrace at his three nephews. Thank goodness his own sons weren’t like these three.

  When he noticed Connor had walked to the railing, had distanced himself from the others, and was once again staring out into the horizon, Frank shuddered at what the man might be contemplating. He walked over to where he stood. The last thing he needed was to be on the outs with this one.

  He started to lift a hand to Connor’s shoulder and knew better. He let his hand drop away in mid-air. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see. We’ll get Jankovic out here and take care of the situation. Cade won’t have to lift a finger toward Kit and Boston. Jankovic will take care of them too.”

  Connor wasn’t really listening to anything Frank had so say. His father had been right. The man was an idiot. But he realized now, he’d have to take care of Baylee. He turned back to the group, thoughtful. “I have a personal problem, a loose end that needs handling as well. But I’ll take care of it myself.”

  Curiosity peaked, Cade asked, “What loose end?”

  “It’s personal.”

  “Aren’t they all?”

  “It’s all for one here. Remember?” Collin threw in.

  “I’ll see to the matter my own way,” Connor said with finality, which meant the subject was closed. But he realized that after today, Baylee might go on the run again. For all he knew she could be gone at this very moment. So he’d have to find the cunt first. And if she was on the run, he’d track her down. He couldn’t leave that particular loose end around to talk just as Collin couldn’t leave Kit around to testify. He had no wish to spend jail time over something that amounted to a one night stand. He should have taken care of it before now anyway. He’d taken matters into his own hands before. He could damn well do it again. Women were nothing but trouble, couldn’t be trusted no matter who they were. Hadn’t his father taught him that?

  When he noticed all eyes were on him, he looked over at Frank. With a cold, hard glare, he reminded him, “You just make sure Jankovic knows the extent of the problem. If he can’t handle the job, make sure you find someone who can. I don’t want any fuckups. Is that clear?”

  Frank nodded, knowing full well he’d better see to it that Jankovic succeeded or suffer the consequences.

  Trevor Dane listened in fascination.

  Installing the bug in Connor’s house hadn’t been easy, but it had been necessary. He couldn’t be in three damned places at one time, could he? The listening device leveled the playing field somewhat. Plus, he’d installed a GPS tracking device on each of their vehicles to keep track of the bastards. Knowing what they were up to beforehand would give him the edge he needed.

  So it was Jankovic, was it?

  He shook his head. Leave it to them to bring in a classless, bumbling goon. It made him wonder how these people had gotten so much in life with so little sense for so long. And then he remembered exactly how. Killing an old couple in their beds in the middle of the night might have seemed easy enough back in 1969, kind of like ducks on a pond, but Trevor didn’t plan on making it easy for them now to get to anyone. Not if they were going after Kit. Not if Connor were going after Baylee. And right now he could only surmise that she was the loose end Connor had mentioned.

  Goon or not, he decided he wouldn’t let his guard down. He couldn’t get lazy at this point. There was still too much to do.

  He had a purpose, a reason to put one foot in front of the other, a reason to get up in the morning. It could be nothing more than feeling his years a little too often, for a little too long. But whatever the reason, he only knew he didn’t want to lose this natural high. It was better than drugs, better than booze.

  A new feeling for an old sniper.

  It was true he’d been a busy boy the last few weeks. He’d personally put an end to four of the five people responsible for the senseless murders of Pete and Mary Parker back in 1969.

  Knowing how losing his parents had haunted his mentor Noah, the man who’d befriended him during the darkest days of his own life, made Trevor even more determined.

  Suddenly he remembered the terror on Alana’s face as he’d driven the knife into her heart. He recalled how frightened Jessica Boyd had been just before he’d put the gun to her head and
pulled the trigger. It had been the same with Eva Geller Gatz, Jessica’s sister. And he would cherish the smug look on Sumner Boyd’s face and the fact that it had vanished the moment the man realized the bill had come due for a long-forgotten debt.

  Yes, Trevor had been a busy boy. He’d made them all pay the piper and in his own way. They thought they’d gotten away with cold-blooded murder. But they hadn’t counted on Noah Parker surviving his captivity in a Viet Cong hell-hole prison camp and coming back six years later.

  Trevor might be the only one on the planet who knew Noah’s story, the only one who cared, the only one who was committed to seeing that Noah found justice for the murders of his parents―forty years after the fact.

  At the close of the war, Noah had made his way back home to L.A., back to the Sundown Ranch high in the Hollywood Hills, looking to take his life back. But the man had found nothing. Everything had been gone, wiped away as if it had never existed. His parents, their beloved ranch, their home, the land, the cattle, the horses had all just disappeared. Where horses had once roamed and fat cattle had grazed on sweet grass, a developer had put up an ugly strip shopping mall.

  After serving his country, Noah had wanted nothing more than answers.

  It took him a week to track down what had happened to his parents, to discover they had been brutally slain in their beds one hot summer August night, leaving a macabre death scene to tell the tale of a violent, senseless crime with no obvious suspects.

  One detective had even suggested that the crime scene looked eerily similar to several other murders that had taken place during the same hellish week back in August 1969. The cop had believed the deaths might have been part of the Manson family crime spree. And since they were already locked up in jail, what was the point?