EIGHTEEN
D
enton couldn’t stop the shock from making him feel both numb and outraged.
How had someone gotten those photos of him and Wendi? He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen them. One of Wendi’s friends was a photographer and had snapped the photos while playing with a new camera. Denton had stored the pictures on his computer—which would explain how someone had gotten them. If one of the men was an IT guy, then he could easily have hacked into Denton’s home computer. Based on everything Denton had seen so far, the man was probably a computer genius, for that matter.
Whoever these guys were, they knew exactly what was going on in this investigation. They’d known that to get to Elle, they could send her those pictures and make it look as if Denton wasn’t a one-woman man. Even more than that, they knew Elle’s fear was falling for a man she couldn’t trust. How did they know that?
Her ex-fiancé came to mind. Of course Preston would know that. And with his connections within the family’s networks, he could have someone on the inside keeping an eye and ear open for what was going on. There were probably others who knew Elle’s history, but Denton was too distracted to think of them. He was still caught up in the memory of the way Elle had looked when she handed him the phone.
He wanted the chance to reassure Elle. But he knew she needed space, and he would respect that. She had been through a lot, and she was no doubt still mourning the loss of her best friend. All the trauma in her life was bound to affect her. She’d put on a good front, but now it seemed as if things were getting to her. No one could fault her for that.
Besides, was he ready to love again? He’d convinced himself that he was. But seeing those pictures of Wendi brought back a fresh wave of emotions and memories.
Was his soul ready for the risks involved? He’d been content with knowing he’d found love once in his life. Could you find a great thing more than once?
He knew the answer—a resounding yes.
He nodded, a seriousness falling over him. He’d thought his heart felt weighed down before. Now it felt anchored with no hopes of dislodging from the heaviness holding it back.
Time. Give her time. Why was that so hard?
At least she seemed content, for lack of a better word, to stay put. He could rest assured that she was safe. That afforded him the opportunity to do some more research on her ex-fiancé and everyone else who had a motive. He had to find these guys in order to begin repairing all the damage they’d already done.
* * *
Elle slipped a pocketknife into her shoe. Hid a razor in her back pocket. Donned a bright yellow T-shirt with a black hoodie over it. Squeezed a sample-sized perfume under the band of her watch where she could slip it out and use it as a type of eye irritant if necessary.
No, she wasn’t tough. But she was smart. She’d fight for her life. She’d fight for the lives of those she cared about.
The clock read 11:30 p.m. The house had quieted and everyone had slipped to bed. The agents had dispersed for the evening.
But then there was Denton. How she could possibly sneak past him baffled her. He seemed to anticipate her every move. Every squeak coming from the house was on his radar in point-five seconds.
If she could get to the door leading to the garage, she could turn off the house alarm for long enough to get outside to her car. But then there was the matter of starting her car, making it down the driveway, past Denton’s agent stationed outside and far enough away that no one would be able to follow her once they noticed she was gone.
Sweat covered her brow just thinking about it.
One wrong move and everyone she loved could die.
What other option did she have?
If she told Denton, the killers would hear her and kill them all.
She’d considered sending Denton a message by email or text, but with the computer expertise these guys were showing, certainly they’d pick up on that also.
She picked up a memo pad. She could leave a handwritten note. That was the one thing the killers couldn’t intercept. Writing by hand? Who did that anymore?
She would.
Just a short note, she told herself, to her parents and Denton. She’d tell them how much she loved them and that they should get out of the house ASAP and have the bomb squad come out. She’d tell them she did this for them. And she was sorry, but there was no other way.
At eleven forty-five, she opened her door, praying it wouldn’t squeak. It didn’t. Using every ounce of willpower, she tiptoed down the hallway. When she reached the end, she paused. She heard nothing.
She’d made it this far. Now she had to see if the rest of her plan would work. She just needed a ten- or fifteen-minute lead time, she’d figured.
Silence surrounded her as she crept down the back stairway. At the landing, she scanned the hallway behind her. Nothing.
Relief and fear filled her. She’d half expected Denton to pop out and ask what she was doing.
Quickly, she punched the security code into the keypad by the door. She tried to mask the beeps by using a cloth to cover the speaker. It worked, but not entirely. She had to move fast.
She slipped outside, grabbed some gasoline from the garage, and hunkered down as she walked to the backyard. Her hands shook as she poured the fluid over the grass twenty feet out from the house.
Her gaze skittered around her. No sign of the night guard.
Using a lighter, she ignited the gas. Flames flared into the nighttime sky, growing by the moment.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Wasting no more time, she ran toward her car, parked in the driveway. She stayed close to the house, her heart pounding in her ears.
Checking to see the coast was clear, she crouched until she reached her vehicle. She crawled inside and started the ignition. It purred to life.
The GPS popped on. Sure enough, there were directions waiting for her. They’d somehow managed to program her system.
Lord, help us.
She had no time to waste. She pushed on the accelerator—hard. Her car zoomed forward.
She hit the button resting atop her sun visor, and the gate slowly swung open. She turned hard once she reached the street, and she didn’t let up. She wouldn’t let up.
Not when the lives of everyone else depended on her.
* * *
Denton’s gut had been trying to tell him something all night. He hadn’t been able to sleep as he tried to piece together the clues his intuition seemed to offer.
He stood in the library, hands on hips. He’d hoped Elle might come down, but he’d known she wouldn’t. She had said she wanted to turn in early.
The insomniac deserved to sleep some. He couldn’t argue that.
He snuck downstairs and began scouring articles about past cases Senator Philips had participated in as attorney or judge. There was something in here somewhere. He just had to figure out what.
He lingered on one article. The picture underneath caught his eye. The photo was of a middle-aged couple, trailed by two young adult males. It gave him pause enough to read more.
The article was about the trial of a man accused of killing a young woman named Katrina Matthews. She’d walked into the middle of a drug bust gone bad. One of the drug dealers shot her while trying to evade authorities. The police eventually caught the man. The case went to trial but was thrown out because of a technicality. The police had forgotten to read the man his rights. The family decried the lack of justice for Katrina, and rightfully so. The system had failed them and there’d been little anyone could do about it. It was one of the last cases Senator Philips had judged before being elected to the senate.
Denton blew up the picture, focusing on the two teenage boys. One was shorter, heavier, and the other tall and thin. Just like the bank robbers? He focused on their faces. The taller one seemed familiar, but why and from where?
Thomas and Ryan Matthews. Denton did an internet search for their names.
The older one popped up. The man had a criminal record. He’d been charged with assault in a domestic dispute. He just got out of jail three months ago. When his sister had been murdered, he’d been in the military...and was an explosives expert. He was discharged for bad conduct.
Denton swallowed. He enlarged the man’s mug shot. He was heavier now and his hair was shorter with a tight buzz cut.
He sucked in a breath. He knew where he’d seen the man before. He was part of the Philipses’ cleaning service.
He stood just as a subtle sound caught his ear. What was that? It almost seemed like a beeping. The noise was so muted, he wondered if he was hearing things.
He pulled his gun anyway. Cautiously, he started toward the south wing of the house. Just as he reached the door leading into the garage, his cell vibrated. He plucked it from his belt. It was the agent he had stationed outside.
Keeping a watchful eye on everything around him, he put the phone to his ear. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve got a situation in the backyard. A fire.”
“Did you see anyone suspicious?”
“No...”
Denton bristled, wondering about his stalled reaction. “What? What is it?”
“A car just took off down the driveway, sir.”
His back muscles tensed. “A car? What car?”
“I’m not sure. A silver sedan.”
Elle. That was Elle’s car. What was she doing?
“Do you want me to go after it?”
Denton shook his head. “No. Let her go. I’ll find her. I need you it come inside and evacuate everyone in the house, then check out Elle’s room. See if there’s anything suspicious there. Understand?”
“Understood, sir.”
Denton grabbed his keys from his pocket, punched in the alarm code—which was probably the noise he’d heard earlier—and ran to his SUV.
He pulled up a website on his cell as he hurried. A couple seconds later, a dot appeared on a map. A moving dot. Elle. He knew her exact location thanks to the tracker he’d had put in her necklace.
He had to get to her before the killers did.
* * *
Elle’s hand trembled on the steering wheel. Sweat trickled from her forehead and down her temples as the dark road stretched before her, only illuminated by the beam of her headlights.
What was she doing? Was there no other way? Really?
These guys were smart. The GPS would lead her to their location. That meant there’d be no record of where she was going. She had no cell phone for authorities to use to pinpoint where she was. Nothing to guide anyone to help her.
She traveled farther into the backwoods of Virginia Beach, the side that tourists rarely saw.
“Turn right in fifteen feet.”
The grating male voice on the GPS nearly sent her through the roof.
She slowed as a street appeared ahead. The road was nothing more than a gravel lane leading into the woods. Here, there were no streetlights. Only her headlights guided her down the narrow road. Rocks popped beneath her tires, rumbling, churning along with her gut.
What was going on back at her parents’ house? No doubt the fire had been discovered. She’d set it far enough away that they should be able to douse the flames before its hot fingers reached the building’s walls. Certainly they’d discovered she’d already left. Had Denton tried to follow her?
Tears pushed their way out. Would they ever understand why she’d done this? Was it truly the right thing?
She sucked in a deep breath. She had to believe it was, to stop second-guessing herself. She was doing this to preserve the lives of those she loved. She hoped, in the process, to save her own life also. Most would call that foolhardy. She didn’t know what she’d call it.
The GPS instructed her to turn left. The road was barely visible, just a sliver through the forest. Huge divots sunk on either side of her car, each filled with black water that caught in the headlights.
Lord, give me strength and wisdom.
“You have reached your destination ahead.”
Elle slowed. Chills raced down her spine and then back up again. The woods cleared—just slightly—and on the other side stood a house. The building was white, run-down and rickety. This was where she was supposed to go?
Something rang in her car. Was that a phone? Whose?
She reached under the seat, felt beneath the console before finally opening the glove compartment. The screen of a shiny plastic cell phone illuminated the small space. Where...?
Of course. These men had thought of everything. No aspect of her demise had been forgotten.
The phone barely stayed in her hands thanks to her shaky, jerking muscles. With a dry throat and a voice that didn’t sound like her own she answered, “Hello?”
“Good girl, Ellebird. You came this far. There’s a path behind the house. Follow it. We’ll give you more instructions as you go.”
She sucked in a deep breath, and stepped from the car.
Here goes nothing.
Only her life didn’t feel like nothing. These men were sure to treat her like it was, though.
NINETEEN
D
enton flew down the road, praying no cops tried to pull him over for speeding. The FBI wasn’t far behind. They were going to catch these guys before anything happened to Elle. They had to. There was no other option as far as Denton was concerned.
The road became narrower, darker and more ominous. Where had they taken her? Just what were they planning?
He swerved onto a gravel road, quickly slowing in order to not miss the directions on his cell phone screen. The end destination appeared to be in the middle of nowhere.
His phone rang. Agent Duffield. Maybe he knew something that Denton didn’t. “What’s going on?”
“Your room and the senator’s bedroom were both wired. The house has been evacuated. We also found a note in Elle’s room.”
“A note?”
“It looks like she went on her own.”
“Why would she do that?”
“For the greater good, she said. She knew your rooms were wired. Said there’s listening devices all over the house, too.”
“Sounds like Elle,” he muttered. Elle—risking her own safety for others. He wasn’t surprised. But he couldn’t let things end badly. He had to get to her.
“Where are you?”
Denton told Agent Duffield his location.
“We’re five minutes behind you. Stay safe.”
He cut his headlights and slowly rolled down the road, trying not to draw attention to himself. Something in the distance caught his eye. A car.
Elle’s car.
He braked, threw the car in Park and stepped out. Before taking another step, he scanned the area around him. There was no movement, no sign of life. Had Elle gone into that house? He had to be cautious, to ignore the emotions that told him to rush inside and find the woman he’d fallen in love with.
He crept around the house, dodging weeds and cinder blocks and burn barrels scattered about the neglected site. No sound came from inside the house. Everything seemed quiet. Too quiet.
He’d only been ten minutes behind Elle. How far could she have gotten?
Something in the distance caught his eye. Something metallic caught a ray of moonlight. He rushed toward it and fingered the fabric. Elle’s sweatshirt. The light had caught on its zipper.
His gaze traveled to the narrow path in front of him.
Elle had left him a clue.
He took off down the trail.
* * *
Elle shoved a branch out of her way. It felt like the woods were surrounding her, reaching out, desperate to take her prisoner. How far did this trail lead into the depths of the forest?
Owls hooted, insects hissed, branches snapped.
And her doubt grew.
Was it too late to turn around? To run away?
But what would happen then? Would the bomb detonate in her home?
But everyone was probably evacuated by now.
It didn’t matter. These guys would find a way to make everyone suffer unless Elle decided to take their “punishment” upon herself.
Her cell phone rang, the shrill sound causing her muscles to flinch, her heart to race. She brought the phone to her ear. “Go left. We’ll find you.”
Her throat tightened, fear getting the best of her. “Isn’t there another way? Anything else we can do?”
“Either you die or everyone else around you does. What’s it going to be?”
“Me,” she whispered. Her family would mourn her death, but she couldn’t live with herself if she was the cause of their murders.
The forest became denser. Water from the murky ground sloshed onto her pant legs, sending a chill through her. Underbrush grabbed at her ankles.
Where were they? Were they watching her now? How would they find her?
With a bullet?
Her anxiety nearly made her double over with apprehension. Her hand scrambled to find something—anything—to help hold her up, to help propel her forward.
She paused a moment, sagged against a tree.
Just then a hand clamped over her mouth. “Ellebird. Isn’t that what your grandmother called you? It’s a nice name for such a pretty girl.”
The man shoved her forward, allowing her to turn around. Her captor didn’t wear a mask, but even in the darkness, his features came into focus.
He was...the house cleaner?
* * *
Voices drifted from the distance.
Denton veered off the trail, trying to remain hidden, to not make any sudden noises to give away his location.
Two male voices carried through the darkness.
Definitely the two men from the bank robbery. Their voices were stained in his memory. He’d bet anything these men were Thomas and Ryan Matthews.
“I’ll do whatever you ask. Just leave my friends and family alone.” Elle... Denton’s heart twisted at the sound of her voice. He expected her to sound brittle, but instead her words carried a level, even tone.
One of the men laughed, the sound slow, methodical.
Evil.
Denton bristled. Just what were these guys planning? And how was he going to get to Elle and rescue her without hinting to her captors of his presence?
He peered around the oak tree that offered him cover, and he spotted the three of them maybe ten feet away. They stood in a small clearing in the forest, several tiki torches lit around them and affording Denton a glance at what was going on.
Sure enough, the two brothers stood there with Elle in their grasps. The tall man was Thomas Matthews, the man who’d just gotten out of prison, who was a bomb expert, and the dominant of the two. Ryan Matthews was a small man who had the look of someone working an office job. Appropriate since he was the computer genius. What a terrible mix when you put the two of these guys together.
Even worse when Elle was in the middle of them.
The nighttime seemed to gasp around him, a mix of crickets and owls and the scamper of other nocturnal creatures.
He looked down just in time to see the glimmer of a line at his feet.
A trip wire?
Had these guys wired the woods also?
The sound of Elle crying out in pain nearly had him rushing to her. He couldn’t. He had to be careful, to be safe. He couldn’t rescue her if he was dead.
He sidestepped the wire, his gaze roaming the forest floor for any others. They’d be nearly impossible to see. The fact that he’d seen the first one was a gift from God.
Lord, I could use Your wisdom right now. Your protection. Remind me of Your sovereignty. And keep Elle safe.
He paced forward and ducked behind another oak tree. He peered around the tree again, trying to find the right angle to take a shot. He flinched when he saw Elle’s head jerked back, Ryan’s hand tangled in her hair. Her eyes were wide with fear. No, not fear. Terror.
She was sacrificing herself to save everyone else in her life.
Noble.
But Denton wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Why are you doing this?” Elle’s voice trembled now.
“You really don’t know?” Thomas asked.
“I really don’t know.”
Thomas ran the gun down her exposed throat and paused by her heart. “Vengeance, Ellebird.”
“What did I do to you?” She licked her lips, the white of her eyes still visible in the dark density of the forest. Ryan pinned Elle’s arms behind her back. The man was slight, obviously more skilled in the brains department than the brawn. But hatred could make people act irrationally. It could make their adrenaline pump and give them bursts of strength and energy.
Thomas shook his head. “You? Nothing. Your father. He let our sister’s killer walk. Said his hands were tied. Today, that smug little criminal is walking free while our sister lays six feet under.”
“Why not go after the killer? He’s the one who took your sister away. That’s not my father’s fault. The law is the law. You can’t change it. If my dad said there was nothing he could do—”
“Shut up!” Thomas pulled his gun back and held it in both of his hands, ready to fire. “If you let evil people walk, then you’re evil yourself. There’s no better revenge on someone than to hurt the people they love. Having two of his daughters killed will ruin your father. It would ruin anyone.”
Denton crept forward. The situation was escalating, and he had to do something. Now. When the men were in range, he drew the gun from his holster, and aimed it right at Thomas.
Before he could pull the trigger, an explosion rocked the world behind him.
* * *
Elle screamed, her gaze darting toward the ball of fire in the distance. What was that? What had just happened?
“That could have been your boyfriend. We thought he might follow you.” Before the man she still thought of as Ringleader could finish his sentence, something popped. The man clutched his shoulder, let out a curse word. Then he fell backward on the ground.
“What...?” the IT guy—Shortie—said.
He jerked Elle in front of him and put the gun to her temple. “If you know what’s best for you, you won’t do that again. Not if you want to see Elle live another day.”
She wasn’t going to live another day anyway, was she?
But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to.
Who had fired that bullet? Was it Denton? Had he followed her?
If so, where was he now?
The man behind her trembled. She could hear the catch to his breath, the panic in his voice. His gaze swung wildly as he searched for the source of the gunshot.
“Come out or the girl dies! I mean it. You’ve got to the count of three.”
Ringleader moaned on the ground and continued his string of curses. But he wasn’t any threat, not based on the way his face twisted with agony or the way blood stained his clothing.
“One...”
Elle’s gaze darted around. She half hoped Denton would step out and half hoped that he wouldn’t. As the gun shook at her temple, she realized how easy it would be for the gunman’s finger to slip. Flashbacks from the bank hit her.
Lord, help us.
“No one will be able to stand against you as long as you live. For I will be with you as I was with Moses. I will not fail you or abandon you.”
God was on her side. No matter how this turned out, she knew she was in her Savior’s care.
And that gave her the strength to face her fears.
First, to face these madmen.
Then to face love...maybe?
Because the way her heart twisted at the thought of anything happening to Denton made it obvious that she was in love with the man.
“Two...”
A stick cracked in the distance.
What could she do? She reviewed the items she’d brought. Knife. Razors. Perfume.
She had to do something before the man shot her. She had to fight for her life. And Denton’s life.
“You’re not a killer,” she said to Shortie. “That’s your brother, you know. A judge will realize that. He’s just playing you in his game of revenge here.”
“What do you know? The justice system fails people all the time.”
“I know your brother has always tried to control you, even when you were growing up. He made you feel inferior. He made you do his dirty work. He probably even made you take the blame.” She didn’t know where the thoughts came from exactly, but they made sense. She had to stall for more time.
“You don’t know anything.”
The gun still trembled at her temple, ratcheting up her heart rate. “You don’t want to make this any worse than it already is. What happened to your sister was a terrible tragedy. I remember hearing about the case. I remember my father mourning over the outcome and wishing he could change things. But he couldn’t.”
“Things can’t get much worse. If we’re caught, we’ll go to prison for life. Maybe even face execution. Either way, we’re toast.”
She couldn’t deny his words. They were in too deep.
She eased the perfume from beneath her watch. Slowly, she adjusted it in her hands. She could do this. She could do this.
Even when her mind screamed no. When her will rebelled.
“When I say three, I’m pulling the trigger.”
At once, Elle pulled her elbow back and rammed it into the man’s stomach. She twirled, spraying the man’s eyes with her perfume. He screamed as the spray hit his eyes. His grasp around her slipped and she jerked out of his hold.
As soon as she stepped away another pop came from the woods, hitting the man squarely on the shoulder. He hit the ground, crying out in pain.
Elle kicked the gun away from his hands.
She looked up and saw Denton step from the woods.
Tears welled in her eyes. In two strides, she was in his arms, weeping. “You shouldn’t have come.”
His breath was hot on her cheek. “No, you shouldn’t have come. It was stupid, foolhardy—”
“I didn’t know what else to do.” Tears continued to wash down her face.
Denton pulled back and looked her in the eye. “And it was selfless. I wish you hadn’t done it, but it did prove one thing, Elle. It proved that you don’t let fear hold you back. You would have never come here tonight if you did.”
“I don’t want my fears to hold me back. Especially not when it comes to...when it comes to you. I’m sorry that I doubted you.”
“They did a good job with those photos, Elle. They knew how to hit you where it hurt.”
“Denton, I think I’m falling in love with you.” Even as the words left her mouth, she didn’t feel the race of panic that she’d expected. No, she felt peace.
Denton’s lips covered hers. Wrapped in his arms, she felt total. Complete. Secure. Loved.
Just then, a flurry of agents broke through the trees and surrounded them. Agent Duffield took control of the scene.
Denton pulled back and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here, and put this nightmare behind us.”