Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Woman, listen to me. Not now, nor have I ever been, softhearted.”

  She touched her lips to his again, this time softer, for longer. “Oh, I think you’re not so tough after all. You’ve had a hard life. Losing the ones you love tends to do that to a person.”

  Jake cleared his throat from the doorway while Dylan simply grinned at the bickering he’d overheard and it seemed at their growing attraction to each other.

  Who would have thought Mr. X and Gloria had a chance at common ground?

  “Are we interrupting anything?” Jake asked with a huge grin on his face.

  “No,” was Trevor’s gruff response.

  “Good, because there are a few things we need to discuss.”

  “For starters, like how the bloody hell you know my name.”

  Jake grinned. “I wish I could take credit for that. We only know the name that was listed in a CIA file. We don’t know you. If you’re more comfortable with us not knowing, that’s okay, too.”

  “Your name isn’t important to us anyway—or your sordid past,” Dylan cracked.

  “We have more pressing matters to discuss.”

  “But with you sidelined at the moment and out of the game so to speak, ending this comes down to Jake, Reese, and me,” Dylan said, turning serious.

  Reese came through the door about that time. “Which means you’ll need to share what you know, a little more in depth than the e-mail you sent.”

  Quinn walked in and went straight to her patient. “How are we doing?”

  “His fever dropped to one-hundred-and-two about an hour ago,” Gloria explained. “But before that it had been as high as one-oh-four just as you predicted. He’s also been talking out of his head and—irritable.”

  Quinn nodded, took his pulse, and started checking his wound by lifting up the bandage.

  “I redressed it while he slept. But he was restless.” Gloria related the patient’s medical condition like any good shift nurse.

  “I’m right here for God’s sakes. You’re talking about me as though I’m not capable of speaking for myself,” Trevor growled.

  “Cranky, too,” Gloria pointed out. “But I think that’s a good sign.”

  “Ever notice how bloody cheery doctors and nurses are when the patient is flat on his back? I detest that.”

  Quinn grinned. “Beyond cranky, not a good patient, I’ll make sure to note that down in the chart so the other nurses are aware of your bad-tempered mood.”

  Reese came closer. “Quinn says that right shoulder is going to keep you out of action for at least another week. We don’t have another week.”

  Trevor sized up all three men. “So? You guys are two computer nerds and one geeky lawyer. What the hell do you intend to do about putting an end to a cold-blooded psychopath? You’re all amateurs when it comes to pulling a trigger. Ending Cade will take a little more than playing patty cake or putting a bullet in a tin can.

  “And if you don’t end Cade, this will go on and on. Because Cade is bloody well nuts, that’s what I know—in detail. He’ll keep coming after Quinn until she’s dead. Is that what you want?”

  Reese paled at the thought. “We’re a little tougher than you think we are.”

  “Really? Then let’s hear your dossier on how many men you’ve ended. Go ahead, because there’s a helluva big difference in talking about killing a man and actually being able to do it. You never forget the first person you kill either, looking into his eyes as the breath leaves him for good. You’ll be haunted in dreams for the rest of your lives. At least decent men usually are, no matter how pure the reason or how much the bastard deserved to die.”

  Trevor let his head fall back for a few seconds before lifting it enough to stare at the three men again. Good, he’d gotten their attention. “With a psycho like Cade, you hesitate pulling that trigger for a second and you’ll be the one left bleeding out on the ground. Is that what you want?”

  Dylan took offense. “I’ll do anything to keep Baylee and Sarah safe.”

  “Will you? Will you really end a person’s life to protect those you love?”

  Reese turned to look at Jake, then Dylan before staring at Quinn long and hard. “I don’t know about these two, but if I’m the only thing left between Cade and Quinn, I’ll take Cade out in a heartbeat to keep him from hurting her.”

  Quinn’s hand flew to her mouth. She met those calm, brilliant eyes. Those gray pools pulled her under. When had that happened? In the midst of all this she’d fallen hopelessly in love with the man. She wondered if he could tell, if he could see the love and the pride she had for him in her eyes?

  She loved him.

  She didn’t like the idea of falling in love with anyone, least of all a…wait. She had to get over the fact that she hated his profession. Wasn’t he trying to get answers to things she’d wondered about her entire life?

  And now he was willing to risk his to keep her safe.

  Quinn was big on loyalty. She had to take a step back and admit how much she respected him because he always took a stand. It might not be the stand she agreed with, but the fact he was more than willing to do so were big points in his favor. And look how he had acted after finding out about her stepfather. No other man knew that dark nugget she’d buried deep in the past for so long.

  And yet, he did.

  He’d reminded her there was nothing to be ashamed about.

  Quinn did her best to zone back into the moment and found it difficult to concentrate on anything anyone said. But this was too important. She needed to know what their little group could do to end this thing with Cade and more importantly how to go about it.

  Trevor was still in the process of giving them his take. “Collin’s nothing more than a follower. Take down Cade, and Collin will beg for his life. And being amateurs, you’ll fall for it.”

  Trevor stared long and hard at Jake. “But you let Collin live, send him to prison for let’s say, ten years or so for kidnapping, and that’s if you’re lucky, especially if he cops a plea. You let him live and he’ll come back after Kit. Guaranteed. Maybe not for a year, maybe not even in two. He might even hire someone from his jail cell to do it for him. How would that be? By this time you and Kit might have a couple of kids to worry about. But you’ll never quite be sure when or how Collin will come back after her or your children. Because trust me, he’s obsessed. He will come after her first chance he gets.”

  He thought of his Nelia and little Annie.

  His mistake had been thinking it was over when he had testified against Paddy Murphy, sent him off to sit in a jail cell for a ten-year sentence, only to learn the man had directed his underlings from prison to go after his wife and child in retribution.

  He remembered hunting every one of the bastards down, remembered how he’d slit their throats in the process.

  The past for him had ended then, but his hell on earth had only begun.

  He’d never been able to fully let go of memories both good and bad since.

  “Then we’re of a like mind there,” Jake said matter-of-factly. “Their money is gone. Great idea by the way to make them poor, wished I had thought of it. But right now we need to know the best way to lure them out into the open. The promise of giving their money back is the obvious one, but then what?”

  Trevor nodded. “That’ll work but only if you realize even after you give them the money back, they still will come after the women. Cade would’ve still killed Gloria after you gave him proof of a wire transfer. You understand that, right?”

  All three men nodded in agreement. It was Reese who pointed out, “We have no intentions of giving them back a dime. Their funds are gone and they aren’t coming back. While we’re on the subject of money, though, did Noah Parker have any children, relatives of any kind still living?”

  Trevor narrowed his eyes, sent him a dubious look. “Why?”

  Jake explained, “Because Kit wants his family to have every penny of Alana’s estate. It rightly belongs to them anyway
.”

  The look on Trevor’s face said he clearly did not believe what he was hearing. “But that amounts to—millions.”

  “Around forty, give or take,” Jake concluded. “It would be more but looks like Jessica got her greedy hands on Alana’s bank accounts after she died. Of course, we have that lump sum too sitting idle in an offshore account. If you want it, say the word, it’s yours.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “No, it’s fair. Alana and Jessica made millions on the backs of murdering the Parkers. Besides, it’s what Kit wants—what we all want.”

  Unbelievably moved, Trevor managed to croak out, “Noah has a daughter who lives on a farm in Northern California. She has a fifteen-year-old son. He could certainly use money for university.”

  Reese made it official. “Then I’ll draw up the papers, transfer the money to her and the boy as soon as we can make the arrangements.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Jake spoke up. “Say you were right when you figured out that Kit is nothing like the murdering bitch of a monster that beat the crap out of her growing up on a regular basis.”

  “I had no idea Alana wasn’t her mother. Somehow that nugget got past me. Although I do know Jessica, the lawyer, had a nice little side business selling kids to people who were desperate to adopt. It’s in the file I sent you.”

  “I read it. By any chance is there anything you know you didn’t send us, something that would indicate Lisa Redfield and Ella Canyon, Quinn’s mother, are one and the same person?”

  “Lisa Redfield? The woman who painted Woman Rising? That Lisa Redfield?”

  A stunned Quinn asked, “Lisa Redfield painted Woman Rising? That’s…that would mean…it can’t be? You must be wrong.”

  “The woman in the painting is my wife. When exactly Nelia posed for it, I haven’t any idea. But it is her. After I took it from the Book & Bean, I got curious. The signature of the artist wasn’t visible so I removed some of the paint covering up that area. Whoever painted over it used acrylic paint while the painting itself was done in oils. Even though I know nothing about art, the clumsy attempt to mask the artist was poor at best but effective.”

  “Ella didn’t paint Woman Rising?”

  “She did not. After chipping off a layer of acrylic, I discovered the artist’s name scrawled underneath. Someone named Lisa Redfield signed the painting.”

  Quinn sat down on the bed. “Are you certain?”

  “Which part? That the woman in the painting is my wife? Yes. That someone did a very poor job of covering up the artist’s signature? Yes to that as well.”

  Quinn stared up at Reese. “Then that means it is possible Nick Tyler might be telling us the truth.”

  “It’s more than a possibility. Nick Tyler admitted this morning Lisa went to Ireland to have her baby, which is Quinn, we think. We’re getting another DNA test done. But let’s say this Lisa liked to paint. Pregnant and bored, she decides to do a few canvases while she’s there. Is it possible your wife was one of the people she could’ve met?”

  “Depends. Do you know where in Ireland exactly? That day at the shop, I questioned Kit; Kit said to ask Quinn.”

  But Quinn shook her head. “I was never curious enough to ask much about it.” She saw the skeptical faces around the room and said, “Look, every time I tried to find out more, I hit a brick wall. Ella gave me the same spiel and I let it drop especially, when Tyler never bothered to get in touch. At one time I even considered the possibility that the entire story of Ella getting together with Nick might’ve been just another made-up lie.”

  But Reese had no intentions of letting the conversation die down. “Tyler owns a farm near Dublin. After what he told us this morning, I looked it up on the Internet. It’s near a place called Ballybrack. So Lisa probably stayed somewhere nearby.”

  “In County Dǔn Laoghaire?” Trevor blanched. He thought back to that time of his life, realized there were many instances he’d spent on the road for the cause. In those days the IRA had come first, not his wife, nor his child. “My wife…we lived…that’s less than twenty miles from where I lived with my family.”

  He’d been so stupid back then to waste precious time away from the people he loved.

  He stared at Quinn, recognized her despair. “There’s something else. Kit mentioned Ella Canyon was at one time a renowned artist but I couldn’t find a single other example of her work. I don’t think she ever painted.”

  Quinn blinked. “I knew it. Something inside me has always known she was lying. If Lisa Redfield existed and painted Woman Rising then where does Ella Canyon fit into all of this? Ella’s always run fast and loose with the truth but…”

  “This Ella, this is the woman you think is your mother?” Trevor wanted to know.

  “I’m beginning to have my doubts,” Quinn decided.

  “So am I,” Reese muttered.

  But Jake had his own point to make. “And Connor didn’t kill Claire. Although I appreciate you pointing me in that direction, DNA’s close but no match, something called familial DNA makes the killer a brother or a cousin.”

  Trevor cocked a brow. “They’re sure? Cade then,” he muttered. “Somehow you need to get his DNA for comparison.”

  “That’s what we’re thinking,” Reese stated. “Plus, we think he’s good for all the women missing from the escort service.”

  “Now that I am one-hundred percent sure about because the women went missing after making a service call to Cade, every single one of them. And he more than likely had help in that regard. But I don’t think it was Collin because when a few of the women went missing he was on an extended vacation in Cancun.”

  Reese smiled. “Then we’re of a like mind there, too.”

  Downstairs, Quinn couldn’t wait to tell Baylee and Kit about the confrontation with Nick Tyler and relay what she’d found out about Lisa Redfield.

  She found them in the kitchen with Gloria making a yummy chicken and cheese casserole for dinner. But before she got into the scene at Reese’s office, she wanted to know one thing. “Did any of you know about Reese’s plan to bring Nick Tyler over here?”

  Kit turned completely around from the counter. Her jaw dropped. “No way. Without letting you know?”

  “Wait a minute. Nick Tyler showed up at Reese’s office? What was Reese thinking?” Baylee gasped. “You saw Nick Tyler, talked to him?”

  Reese came into the kitchen about that time, went straight to the fridge for a beer. “I knew you were talking about me. My ears weren’t just burning, they were on fire. Come on, Quinn, be fair. Tell them how it turned out.”

  Quinn sighed and went over the entire story. After she’d finished, Kit and Baylee exchanged looks. It was Kit who said, “If Jessica was involved that means Alana was, and up to her eyeballs in it too. Both women probably tried to scam for more money, milk the situation for all they could get.”

  “Exactly,” Reese said raising his beer in a salute.

  Kit wrinkled her brow. “But how does this Lisa Redfield connect to Ella Canyon? Nick Tyler needs to provide more answers. We should invite him out here to stay with us, get him out of his hotel room and into a friendlier atmosphere, pry more info out of him, get him to talk.”

  Quinn resisted that notion. “He actually called me snotty and spoiled.”

  Baylee’s mouth gaped open. “He did not. That bastard!”

  Still stinging from the insult, Quinn hung on to her resentment. “So sure, go ahead and invite him. In fact, get Reese here to make the call since the two of them are so chummy, e-mailing back and forth behind my back like they were.”

  Coming into the kitchen, Jake shot Reese a glance and Quinn immediately picked up on the exchange. “You knew about this thing with Tyler and let him drag me there without a heads up, didn’t you?”

  Kit glared at Jake. “You knew and said nothing, let her walk in there unprepared. How could you do that?”

  Sheepish, Jake got out his own beer, twisted off the
cap. “I told him it was a bad idea.”

  “He did,” Reese admitted. “And I tried to follow his advice by sending Tyler an e-mail to say don’t bother coming. Sue me because the guy didn’t listen. I think he cares for you, Quinn. It might be two decades late, but the man cares.”

  Quinn shook her head. “He comes to see me once in twenty years and you’re ready to hand out father of the year awards.”

  Reese gave her a withering look. “I’m not. But carrying around that chip for another twenty years will get you nowhere fast except another chunk of bitterness. You want to go through life like that, be my guest. Sooner or later, it will eat you alive.”

  “Screw you. What do you know about it anyway? Rock Star’s story doesn’t even make any sense about this Lisa person. Even if Trevor says she’s the artist who painted Woman Rising. What the hell does all that have to do with me?

  Kit held up a hand. “Wait, Ella didn’t paint Woman Rising? This Lisa Redfield did?”

  Reese explained Trevor’s discovery.

  “Then Lisa and Ella are not the same person,” Kit concluded. “No wonder Ella always resisted picking up a brush to show us her brushstrokes and techniques.” She turned to Baylee. “Remember that time when we were thirteen or so and tried to get her to help us with our art project? She went nuts.”

  “Sure. She liked to run her mouth about how she’d had all this talent once as an artist but never would actually show us?”

  Quinn eyed her friends. “So? Maybe she was another Georgia O’Keefe but the drugs affected her talent.”

  Baylee and Kit both gaped at her. It was Baylee who said, “You’re actually defending Ella Canyon. Wow!” She looked around the kitchen. “Where’s a calendar so I can circle this day in red?”

  Quinn blew out a breath. “Look, until Nick starts coming clean with a few more facts, I’m not ready to give him the benefit of the doubt yet. But I see all of you are.”

  Kit and Baylee traded knowing looks.

  Reese picked up on some kind of female vibe, some sort of friend code passing between them. Good, he thought, maybe the women could get her to see reason where he could not.