“I promise.” He nodded back to the seat she just left and didn’t continue until she dropped into it. “But right now I want you to tell me who you think is after you. This landscape guy? Is that like a gardener?”
“He’s dead. Shot himself a few months after…they died. News stories circulated about his possible involvement and he put a gun in his mouth.” And she hadn’t spent one minute feeling sorry for the guy. No, she hated him for leaving before he could clear her father’s name.
Jonas swore as he shook his head. “I’m not sure if that’s ironic or just tragic.”
“It’s proof he couldn’t take the guilt of what he’d done.”
Jonas didn’t say anything for a second. “So, you think the guy in the forest was financed by someone else? Couldn’t be the gardener if he’s out of the picture.”
She knew exactly who sicced the attacker on her. They’d been circling each other for years. “His son. He’s as desperate to clear his father’s name as I am to clear mine.”
“Sounds like a dangerous situation.”
“It’s a race to see who gets there first.”
Chapter Eleven
Rich drank a cup of rancid hospital coffee as he pushed open the emergency-stairwell door to the second floor. Walt stepped off the elevator at the same time and they met in the middle.
Rich smiled over the rim. “It’s only two floors, you know.”
“When you’re older you’ll understand.” Walt laughed as he tapped his rounded stomach.
“If you say so.”
Walt cleared his throat. “How’s Jonas?”
“I think you’re asking if I think he’s safe with Courtney.”
“And?”
“She’s a mystery. From what I can tell, she didn’t even exist until a few years ago, and she’s clearly on the run from her past, but I don’t see a threat there.”
Walt swore. “I think you’re wrong. We need to do something before Jonas gets stuck on the wrong side of this thing.”
“That will be tough, since Jonas doesn’t want to be saved from her.” Rich shook his head, his gaze catching the empty hallway in front of them. All amusement slammed to a halt. “Where’s the guard?”
“What?”
With quick steps, Rich reached the nurses’ station and dumped his drink on the counter. His gun came out a second later.
When a nurse gasped, he held up a hand to keep her quiet and still. “Keep everyone here.”
Walt was a step behind him, radioing for assistance. “I need backup. Call security and get this hospital ready for lockdown on my signal.”
“No one comes on or off this floor.” Rich pointed at the elevator before turning back to Walt. “Where did your guy go?”
Without further discussion, both men took off at a run. Rich got to the room first and waited at the entrance for Walt to take his position on the opposite side of the door. With a nod, Rich took the lead. He shoved the door open with a shoulder, his gaze darting around the room.
He performed a mental checklist. Window closed. Room cleared. Bed empty.
Walt pointed to the red pool seeping from under the bathroom door. With a three count he opened it, and both men stared into Eckert’s dead eyes.
* * *
JONAS ACHED FOR HER. Courtney lived a nightmare most people couldn’t imagine. He’d taken victim statements and listened to the accused spew excuses and pretend innocence even as they drove a truck full of cocaine into a school playground. That hadn’t prepared him to sit across from her and stay quiet while a horror film played in her head.
He’d seen stories on the news about family annihilators, but seeing her face as she relived the horror chipped away at something cold and frozen inside of him. The idea of subjecting her to more death tied a knot in his chest, but he didn’t have a choice. Leaving her alone pushed his control to the breaking point.
He’d guided her with her head down to the back entrance to avoid the reporters gathering out front of the hospital. More than one person in the angry crowd gathered in the lobby tried to stop him and demanded answers, but he kept moving. Flashing his badge, he got them upstairs before anyone could get in the way.
“I have to be here.” He delivered his lame explanation as they walked past the nurses huddled by the second-floor elevator and through the wall of uniformed officers blocking the entrance to the rest of the hallway.
“I know.”
He stopped three doors away from the scene. “You can stay in the hall and—”
She broke his train of thought when she put her hand on his forearm. “I can handle it.”
“From where I sit, you can do just about anything.”
She gifted him with her first smile in hours. “That’s good to know.”
“We’ll get to that later.”
Right now he had to concentrate on death. The emergency call came in right as Courtney told her story. Rich insisted on breaking through and only needed one word to do it—Eckert.
Rich met them at the yellow tape cordoning off the last two rooms. He nodded to Courtney. “Ma’am.”
Jonas shifted to business mode. “Give me the status.”
“We’ve moved all the patients to other floors. Forensics is finishing up now, and Walt took care of the security cameras.”
Jonas did a visual sweep of the long hall and U-shaped paths around the nurses’ stations. People could hide right in the open here. “Any witnesses?”
“None. Even though it’s early, the place is busy. Nurses aren’t checking out every person to walk on the floor.”
Jonas kept his back teeth locked tightly together to stop from yelling. If he started he wouldn’t stop. “Where was our guard?”
“No idea. Walt’s trying to find him now.”
“His orders were clear.” Jonas had issued them personally even though Walt’s man stood at the door. “Do not move.”
“He’s missing?” Courtney asked.
Rich nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Was Eckert really FBI?” she asked. With the rise in the rumble of voices from the door to the crime scene her gaze switched to the end of the hall.
A man backed out of the room with his hands on a gurney. The black zippered bag sat on top. The wheels creaked as it rolled by.
Her body went stiff. Jonas wished he could put an arm around her and usher her out of there.
Rich missed all the signs of distress and kept talking. “Eckert’s story checked out insofar as he was here to question someone. When I asked about you and tried to dig into any pending cases linked to your name, I came up empty.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I have no idea what that means.”
In Jonas’s mind it spelled trouble. More of it. “He was fishing. Looking for you. The question is why.”
The FBI angle added a new dimension to the desperate and increasingly deadly situation. Fed involvement kicked up Jonas’s heart rate and made him watch over his shoulder. In his experience, the guys who sat at the desks and didn’t have a clue made the policies and put everyone at risk.
He’d walked away from his last job rather than get sucked into a never-ending cycle of bureaucratic interviews and forced mental-health checks. He’d followed the rules of engagement and a good man died. Now he didn’t wait to shoot. He also didn’t give automatic trust to everyone who carried a badge.
“Do you have access to the FBI database?” Courtney asked Rich.
He looked to Jonas then back to her again before answering. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
She bit her lower lip. “If I gave you a name, could you check and see if he has a work relationship with Eckert.”
Jonas tried to follow her reasoning but couldn’t see where she was going. “Who are you talking about?”
“Cade Willis.” She didn’t say anything else. Just stared at Jonas.
The answer smacked right into him. He didn’t know how he knew, if the desperation in her eyes telegraphed the truth or something else clued him in. “
The son?”
She nodded.
Rich held up a hand as if trying to get their attention. “I don’t understand.”
Jonas refused to violate her trust. Rich didn’t need the details to dig. He could make the inquiries on a name. “Check it out without leaving fingerprints. I don’t want this tracing back to us. Back channels only.”
Rich didn’t question or hesitate. “I’ll start right now.”
“Jonas?” Walt stepped out of the dead man’s room and motioned for Jonas to join him.
When he turned back to Courtney she was already smiling. “Go. I won’t move or touch anything.”
“It’s hard to believe twenty-four hours ago you tried to run from me.”
Her eyes widened. “That was just yesterday?”
“I know how to show a woman a good time.” He squeezed her elbow and ducked under the tape.
While Jonas glanced into the room, Walt stared at Courtney. “You brought a date to a crime scene?” he asked.
“This all centers on her.”
“That’s what has me concerned.”
Jonas cut his visual inspection short. “Tell me what’s ticking you off about her. Something has your distrust spiking.”
Walt stepped farther into the room and pitched his voice low. “There is a lot of trouble following that woman. We now have two dead bodies. And as far as I can tell, the only connection is her.”
“She’s in danger.”
Walt scratched his bald head. “Is she?”
“Clearly you have something to say. We’ve known each other long enough for you to just spit it out.”
“What do you know about her?” he asked.
Despite the pull to defend her, Jonas refrained from making their time together bigger than it was. “I met her yesterday morning.”
“And have been under fire ever since.”
“I can handle it.”
“The issue is whether it’s time to cut her loose.” When the forensic tech started taking photos of the room, Walt pulled Jonas closer to the window. “She’s wanted by the FBI. Turn her over and be done.”
“That’s not true.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Rich checked. There’s no case. This—all of this, including my wellness visit—has been about locating her and getting close. And now the FBI agent with a supposed need to talk with her is dead.”
“We had two homicides in five years until she came to town. That’s what I’m focusing on at the moment.”
Jonas refused to pile all that blame on Courtney and he wouldn’t let anyone else do it, either. “She’s been living here without trouble. This all came to her doorstep. She didn’t ask to be tracked down or get sucked into some FBI scam.”
Walt rubbed his head, sighing with every pass. “None of this makes any sense.”
Frustration filled Jonas. This man’s opinion meant something. He’d been involved in every major turning point in Jonas’s life. Having Walt cut Courtney off struck Jonas like a physical blow.
“I was there when the guy tried to kill her, Walt. I’m not abandoning her now.”
“You sure you’re thinking with your head on this one?”
Jonas refused to answer that. Whatever he felt, and he had no idea what that was, didn’t concern anyone else. He could be objective. He could save the girl and figure out the case without compromising his office. “This is about her safety.”
“I’m just going to say it.” Walt shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I don’t trust her one bit. I think she’s dirty.”
Hearing the words made Jonas ball his hands into fists. The fierce need to fight for her honor struck him out of nowhere. “Walt, come on. She’s had a hundred chances to run off or do something to me.”
“That’s not any kind of comfort.”
“How about the fact she’s sticking this out despite being terrified?”
Walt paced the small area as he blew out a long breath. “I’ve known you a long time, and that doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your distance.”
The charge stuck.
Jonas tried to shake it out, convince his brain that the words lacked merit, but the accusation lingered. He had to believe he could separate the case from the woman. “I am.”
Walt stopped. “If you do lose perspective, call me. A man in a position of power and protection needs to be objective.”
“I get that.”
“Then you know once you can’t keep your distance, neither of you is safe.”
“I have it under control.” Jonas glanced at the bloodstain on the floor and hoped that was true.
Chapter Twelve
Less than a half hour later, Courtney stood in a parking lot and stared at two buildings arranged in an L shape. Each consisted of two stories.
The place sat just outside the Aberdeen city line. The sign out front said Happy Times Apartments and advertised nightly rentals. The place looked more like a motel out of a horror movie to her.
Rows of doors and small windows stood every few feet. A staircase ran down from the second floor on each end of both buildings. The too-blue paint failed to stick to the stucco underneath, leaving big blotches of lime-green visible, which matched the color of the pool in the middle.
She cringed at the idea of sleeping here. “This isn’t the safe house, is it?”
Jonas stopping eyeing up the dark blue sedan parked under the sign that said Management Office and stared at her. “What?”
“You know, where we stay while we’re in hiding. Don’t mean to sound like a princess or anything, but this isn’t it, is it?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “We’re staying at my house.”
She wasn’t sure if that news comforted or terrified her. A warm shower and a soft bed—all good. A room just down the hall from his? Trouble.
She hadn’t had a steady boyfriend since college, and they broke up when he pushed to meet her family and she wasn’t ready to tell him there wasn’t anyone else. The one man since meant nothing, and she’d regretted it the minute she let the relationship slip from casual and work-related to something more.
Then Jonas knocked on her door, and long-dead feelings inside her sparked to life. Or they had the second she stopped running from him.
Hearing his steady breathing the night before soothed her to sleep. Her usual insomnia gave way to her body’s need to heal from all the violence. But part of her worried this was something else.
“Then why are we here?” she asked.
“Ron Stimpson lives up there.” Jonas pointed at the middle door on the second floor of the closest building.
“Remind me who he is again.”
“The guard who left his post at Eckert’s door.”
“Bartholomew County needs to pay its sheriffs more money.” She glanced at the man-size hole in the metal fence surrounding the pool. “This place is a dump.”
“He’s divorced. The wife and kid have the house. He has a money-flow problem.”
“Did you know the guy or something?”
Jonas slipped his phone out of his back pocket and hit a few buttons. “Rich texted the information.”
She read the screen Jonas showed her. “So, do we think Stimpson just messed up and left?”
“No.”
She knew the answer before Jonas said it but the why still eluded her. “Care to elaborate?”
“It’s too coincidental.”
Yeah, much clearer now. But as someone who lived under the crushing weight of a false accusation, she refused to jump in and blame. “Maybe the person who killed Eckert waited until the guard stepped away.”
“Then the killer would have been hanging out on the hospital floor for some period of time.” Jonas shook his head. “The risk of getting caught on tape or by the personnel would be too high.”
“So you’re not buying it.”
“It’s one thing to get lost in the shuffle of business on a hospital floor. It’s another to wait aroun
d, trying to act like you belong.”
“So Stimpson was dirty.” The idea shouldn’t have surprised her. She’d dealt with lazy cops and more than a few guys in power who seemed to despise women. But she’d hoped for better here, had the naive belief that sort of corruption wouldn’t happen in a small town on the edge of nowhere.
“He wouldn’t be the first bad cop in history.”
The disgust in Jonas’s voice mirrored the anger in her heart. “Interesting.”
He pocketed his phone. “What?”
“The way you got all low and grumbly there for a second.”
“I didn’t—”
“And if you hold on to those keys any tighter you’re going to draw blood.”
He opened his palm and stared at the rough indents on his palm.
“Have some experience with crooked officers?” she asked.
He hesitated long enough that his voice boomed and she jumped when he finally started talking. “Most of the people on the streets, the true law-enforcement professionals who sweat and bleed the beat each day, are solid. They do their jobs. Risk their lives. Don’t ask for medals.”
Like him. After such a short time, that was the definition she’d use to describe Jonas.
“I know plenty of guys who sit behind a desk and give orders. They dictate the rules of battle without ever fighting one,” he said.
Desperate to hear him talk, to catch a glimpse into the man behind the fully together one in front of her, she resisted saying anything until the quiet pounded in on her. “And?”
“People die.”
It was everything he didn’t say that mattered. “People you know?”
“Yeah.” He dangled the keys in front of her. “These are for you.”
The air had changed. The crackle of electricity vanished in a poof and she knew the “show me yours” moment had passed.
She sighed. “Let me guess. My job is to wait out here.”
“In the car with the engine running.”
“Where will you be?”
“Up there.” He nodded toward Stimpson’s front door before looking over his shoulder at the sedan again. “The guy in that car is one of Walt’s men. He’s watching the place to see if Stimpson comes back.”
“I’m confused about this plan.”
When She Wasn't Looking Page 8
