He dropped the folded piece of paper into her hand. She looked down. It was white ruled paper that looked like it had been torn from a notebook. The text was written in blue ink, double-sided and smudged at the edges.
“Just read it, okay?” Tommy said. He ran his hand over his head. “I don’t know what it says. But it belongs to you and I shouldn’t have stopped you from reading it. I’ll leave you to it. I gotta go think or pray or something.” He paused for a moment, like he was trying to decide whether a hug was in order. She didn’t give him the choice. She slipped her arms around her brother and hugged him. He patted her on the back. “Be smarter than me, okay? Make better choices. Here, you might need this, too.” He handed her a flashlight. Then he turned and walked away.
She waited until he left the shed, then unfolded the paper slowly. She spread it out on the window ledge. It fell apart immediately into four equal squares and it took her a moment to piece it back together. She ran the light over it and read, filling in the gaps as best she could.
The date was seven months before Zander was born.
Erica,
I don’t know what to write or how to start this. You’ve always been better at words. I’m not asking you for anything. There’s just some stuff I gotta tell you.
One. I like you. A lot. I’ve always liked you a lot. I should’ve told you that more. I should’ve shouted from the rooftop, “Erica Knight is my girlfriend!”
Two. I’m never going to drink again. Ever. You probably heard I crashed Max’s car and got tossed in the drunk tank. I wish that wasn’t true but it totally is. I was stupid. Really, really stupid. Nothing like spending all night in a room I couldn’t leave to make me figure out what I care about and what I want.
You know what the hardest thing about it was? What I hated most? That I couldn’t talk to you. That I couldn’t tell you that being your boyfriend was the most important thing I’d ever done. That you’re the most important thing to me.
So I prayed instead. I prayed a lot. I told God I was sorry and that I’d straighten my life out and I’d stop using what happened to my sister as an excuse.
Three. I joined the military. I started basic training last week. I might be hard to reach for a while. But if you give a letter to my parents or my brothers, they’ll get it to me.
Four. Look, I know I didn’t do or say the things I should’ve. I know it’ll take a long, long time to rebuild your trust. But I’m willing to do it. If you’ll have me back. If you’ll let me. I’ll just show you every day, day after day, that I’m changing. We’ll go to church together. You’ll come over and have dinner with my family. I’ll hold your hand in public. I’ll buy you flowers. I’ll learn to play guitar and sing to you. Whatever it takes. Until you get to see and trust that I really mean it and I’m never running away again.
Because I really, really—
The words bled away in a blur of blue ink. Tears rushed to her eyes. She pressed her hands into her eyes and stepped out into the petering rain. She walked, pushing her body through the trees and letting the soft, gentle patter beat her head. The ground sloped steeply upward. She glanced back now and then at the station below, keeping it always in her sight as she climbed. She didn’t know how long she’d walk or how far she’d get. Just that after everything that had happened she needed silence and time alone before she went back and joined the men. She swung the flashlight back and forth over the ground and watched the faint, gentle, lightening gray of the day breaking somewhere at the horizon.
Soon enough, Nick and Zander would be awake, and rescue would arrive. She needed to know her heart and mind by then. And maybe she already did.
Lord, I want this. I want to be with Nick. I want to love him and for him to love me. I want us to be a family. I’ve always loved him. I’ve just been so scared that he wouldn’t love me back, that he’d run away and that he’d let me down. Help me trust him. Help me love him. Somehow bridge the gap between our hearts.
Footsteps crackled in the woods behind her. She wasn’t alone. Hope rose in her chest, thinking Nick had woken and followed her. But just as quickly as it rose, it crashed back down as she turned and looked in horror at the man in a waterproof engineer’s jacket and hat standing behind her.
“Bob?” she breathed.
He stepped closer. She swung the light up to his face. No. No, it wasn’t. The flashlight fell from her hand and rolled down the hill behind her.
“Clark?” she gasped. Mud and blood streaked his body. A gun was clutched in his hands. “How are you here? Mr. Grand shot you in the head. I watched him throw your body off the train.”
“Hey, Erica.” A tight smile turned Clark’s lips, as smooth and slimy as it had always been, and coming nowhere near his cold and lifeless eyes. “Yeah, you did, didn’t you? Only that wasn’t me. That was the engineer. Bob something? Mr. Grand pretended to shoot me. Then he forced Bob to switch clothes with me, promising he’d let him go if he did, and then shot him in the head. You watched him throw Bob off the train, thinking it was me. And you didn’t even shed a tear. Even now you don’t look happy to see me.” He shook his head, disgust curled at the corner of his smile. “I really went to bat for you, and you let me down.”
“I let you down,” Erica repeated. Did he hear himself? Standing there in a dead man’s clothes and yet acting like he was somehow the victim. Her voice rose. “How did I let you down?”
“I had a plan!” he shouted. “A really good one! Some of my campaign staff apparently didn’t like how I treated them and threatened they were going to go to the police and tell them I received secret campaign donations from wealthy Canadian businessmen with ties to organized crime. Me! Like I’m going to believe some of my guys are criminals just because some investigation into a diamond mine in the Arctic, headed by Nick Henry’s brother, says so. It was a lie. It had to be a lie! And I couldn’t prove it. But I could change the story.”
Erica shook her head. He was so determined to believe his wealthy donors were good guys, he wasn’t even willing to believe he could’ve been duped. “So, you decided to become the victim of the train heist linked to the very investigation you wanted to disprove.”
“Not the victim. The hero!” Clark shouted. “Mr. Grand was supposed to threaten you, steal the case and tie you up in the storage locker. I was supposed to rescue you. Tommy and Zander were going to see people with guns but never be in actual physical danger. Then the story would get out, and it would be this whole dramatic thing to rehabilitate my career. It didn’t matter if there was nothing on the laptop, because eventually I’d be proved right! In the meantime, all everyone would care about was the fact that Ontario’s youngest Member of Provincial Parliament tried to meet a whistle-blower, got kidnapped, saved the girl, became a hero.”
Of all the emotions sweeping over her—fear, dread, anger, fury—none of them was a surprise. No, this was exactly the kind of stunt he’d pull. He’d always been this man. He always would be.
“But you weren’t counting on Nick, were you?” she asked. “That’s what ruined everything. That’s why everyone was scrambling and you kept coming up with wilder and more dangerous plans, like pretending to be dead and separating the train. See, I’m guessing the criminals only had the basic outline of what to do and honestly believed they were stealing real data. What happened? Couple of the thugs went rogue and tried to actually hijack the train? Mr. Grand tried to double-cross you and make a copy of the data for himself, only Julie couldn’t find what wasn’t there? Because you didn’t let them in on the fact it was nothing but a stunt?”
“It wasn’t a stunt!” Clark’s voice rose.
“It was totally a stunt,” she said. “You hired criminals, you hijacked a train, you risked people’s lives for a selfish, reckless, publicity stunt! And don’t even pretend you didn’t rope my brother into it because you thought you could manipulate him. Or that you wanted to use my son as leverage to
manipulate Tommy and me. And what was my role? To fall into your arms? Because a pretty wife and cute stepson were good for your image?”
“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer!” Clark snapped. “Nobody was supposed to get hurt!”
“You killed two people!” Erica yelled. “I’m guessing you’re the one who shot Julie in the back trying to escape. Were you hiding in a sleeper cabin with a gun, orchestrating this whole thing?”
He shrugged. So that was a yes. “I couldn’t let her take the laptop.”
“Because there were no files. Because there was no hidden data. Because Nick’s brother Trent wasn’t involved in a faulty investigation. You didn’t need actual data. You just needed the hint of it. You disgust me.” She shook her head. He raised the gun higher. “Yeah, I see the weapon. But I’ve been held at gunpoint and shot at more than enough for one night.”
“Difference is that none of the people who shot at you were authorized to kill you,” he said.
He stepped closer. “The guns weren’t even supposed to be real or loaded, not that anybody followed my directions on that. And eventually I realized Fox, Orson and Lou were right to have brought real guns. But you, your brother and your kid were completely off-limits. I tried to spare you. But now, thanks to you, it’s too late for that. Now I’ve gotta be the only one left standing for any of this to work.”
Her chin rose, even as she felt tears building in her eyes. “If you’re going to shoot me, shoot me now.”
“Not until you show me where the others are,” Clark said. “Then I’m going to end this once and for all. Don’t fight me. Do what I say and I promise it’ll all be over quickly. Believe it or not, I care about you, your kid and your brother. I’ll make sure Zander won’t even see it coming and none of you feel a thing. But I have no choice. I’ll make it look like your hothead brother set up the heist to pay off his debts, then he snapped and killed you and Zander before turning the gun on himself when I tried to stop him, leaving me the only survivor.”
THIRTEEN
“Wake up, you idiot! And go find Erica!” Tommy’s booming voice jolted Nick awake. The man’s large hand shook his shoulder.
Nick opened his eyes. Pale gray light was filtering through the window. Zander was asleep by his side, curled up on Nick’s army jacket. Tommy was leaning over him, shaking him like he was trying to get marbles out of a pop can. Nick looked around the room. “Where’s Erica?”
“I don’t know.” Tommy stopped shaking him and crouched down beside him. He was holding a dirty flashlight in his hand. “I had a talk with her and I finally gave her your letter. You know the one, the long, rambling one you gave me to give her like six years ago? Well, I kept it in my wallet. And I gave it to her, and I told her I was sorry. Then she went off walking in the woods and she didn’t come back.”
Nick eased Zander onto the floor and stood. “What do you mean she didn’t come back? How long has she been gone?”
“I don’t know. Like ten minutes. I figured I’d give her a moment to read in peace. When I got back she was gone. But the flashlight I gave her was lying partway up the hill, still on.” He held it up. “Maybe she just propped the flashlight up somewhere so she wouldn’t get lost and could find her way back, and it fell. Maybe she’ll come back when she’s ready. But I figured either way you’re the one who should be going after her. Because I’m injured and you’re her guy.”
Her guy. Something swelled inside him. He let out a long breath. “Which way did she go?”
“Out the back door of the train shed and then straight up the hill. That’s all I know.”
Nick paused. He readied himself and then reached for his gun.
“Here, take it.” He held it out to Tommy. “If anything happens, use it to defend Zander.”
Tommy nodded seriously. He took the weapon. “I will,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to your kid, Nick. I know I’m not always a good guy. And that you and I have had our differences. But I love that kid and I’ll protect him with my life. I promise.”
Nick met his eyes and nodded. “I know.” Then he clasped him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, too. We’re good.”
Now he just had to pray that Erica was okay. He turned and strode through the train station. It had been almost six years since he’d written that letter, and while he couldn’t remember many of the words, the way he’d felt when he’d written it was still engraved on his heart. The storage shed was empty. He crossed through it, went out the doors and up the hill, following the telltale signs of scuffed earth and bent twigs that told him someone had passed that way. He climbed the hill, fighting the urge to shout her name in case she wanted time alone.
Lord, I don’t know what she’s going to think when she reads that letter. Or where my future is headed. I just know that everything in my heart is calling me toward Erica and our son. You have guided me so well these past years and I’m so grateful for everything I am now and everything that’s become of my life. Whatever happens next, please guide and help me make Erica and Zander a part of it.
Broken branches lay ahead of him. Then he saw two sets of footprints and the signs of a struggle. Two people had fought here. One had been dragged. His heart pounded like a war drum.
Help me, Lord! What happened? Where’s Erica? Please let her be okay!
“Erica!” He ran, shouting her name, following the scuffed footprints and broken branches and the story they told. Someone had startled her. He’d grabbed her and dragged her. She’d fought him off and run in the opposite direction of the train shed, leading her attacker away from her son. He’d tackled her. She’d hit the ground. But still, she hadn’t given up the fight.
And then the trees broke. He hit a wide cement platform and the remains of what he guessed had once been a storage yard. And lost the trail.
Help me, Lord! Where did they go? Help me find her. He sprinted across the cement and pressed forward. He strained his ears and heard nothing but the wind brushing the trees as the early morning broke from behind the clouds. I don’t even know where I’m going!
“Erica! Can you hear me?”
“Nick!” Her voice was faint in the distance, but oh, how he’d take it. He ran toward it, pressing his body through the woods. Then the trees parted. A steep rocky incline lay in front of him. He looked down. A man in a train engineer’s rain jacket had Erica by the waist and was trying to drag her backward while she kicked and flailed against him.
Desperately, Nick scanned the rocks ahead of him. How did they get down there? How was he going to get down there?
For a second he stood, helpless in his indecision, and watched as Erica swung her elbows back, catching the man in the jaw. He let go and she fell free. And Nick suddenly realized who it was. Clark? He didn’t know how. He didn’t want to know. All that mattered was that Erica was now running away from him and that Nick had to find a way, a path, something, to get down there and help her.
Clark leaped after her, grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to him. With a warrior scream, she spun back and struck him in the face. Anger pulsed through Nick’s core as he watched the man swing again, his hand making contact and Erica’s jaw snapping back. He wondered if this was how Erica had felt every time she’d watched him get into a fight. She fell to the ground, rolled, then sprang back, hands raised to defend herself. Fierce protective pride beat through Nick’s heart. Erica was strong, she was powerful and she was fighting back. He was going to make sure she never had to face another battle alone.
He took a breath, then launched himself over the edge of the rock side, bracing himself with one hand as he climbed down, leaping from ledge to ledge as quickly as he dared.
“Nick!” Erica cried. “Clark has a gun!”
But it was too late. The weapon swung in Clark’s hand. He aimed at Nick.
Nick realized he was out in the open on the cliff side with nowhere to run, nowhere
to hide and no way to dodge a bullet. Lord, this is not how I wanted to go, but if this is it, please take care of those I love.
He heard Clark fire and the sound of the bullet hitting the rock face beside him. He looked down. Erica had thrown herself at Clark. He couldn’t see what had happened to the weapon.
Nick’s heart stuttered. Erica had saved his life.
He would never let her down again. He gritted his teeth, gave up on the climbing, tucked his chin and let himself fall. He curled into a ball and shielded his head. He tumbled down the rock, a hundred blows smacking against his body.
Lord, Erica accused me once of not being willing to take a hit for her. And while this isn’t what she meant, I’d take every single one of these blows and a thousand more to keep her safe.
He hit the ground and, for a second, he couldn’t move. Pain radiated through his body and pounded through his brain. The sound of Erica fighting for her life floated somewhere on the edge of his consciousness. No, he was not going to pass out. He was not going to leave her. Not now, not ever.
“Nick!”
“Coming!” He forced the word through his lips, rolled over onto his hands and knees and forced his eyes to open.
Erica was on the ground, pinned by Clark on top of her. The man’s hands chained her throat, choking the breath from her lungs. A faint cry left her lips.
Nick dragged himself to his feet and charged at Clark, pulling him off her and tackling him to the ground. They hit the dirt in a battle of limbs. Clark’s blows flew at him again and again. And, for a moment, it took all the strength in Nick’s depleted body to block the blows.
Rescuing His Secret Child Page 16
