She Can Kill (She Can Series) (17 page)

“I’ll hate you.”

“I know, but at least you’ll be alive.” He walked down the hall
and into his own room. He rubbed the center of his chest. Breaking
his daughter’s heart was fracturing his. But what could he do? Noth
ing. There would be no end to the price Lucia would pay for his sins.

He packed what he needed in ten minutes, then went to the basement to double-check their go-bags and load everything into the SUV. He never drove the Range Rover. It wasn’t even a registered vehicle. He kept three different license plates that could be changed as he moved across the country. As he loaded the SUV, his mind drifted to the one subject he’d suppressed all evening: Sarah.

If those men had been placed intentionally near Sarah’s house by someone from Cristan’s past as a message to him, then he’d brought her into his nightmare. He reached into the bottom of the duffel bag and withdrew a small, locked box. The numbers spun easily as he set the combination. Opening the box, he pulled out passports and driver’s licenses. Who should he be next? Each of his escape plans was complete with bank accounts and credit cards. Provisions had been made to dissolve Rojas Corp and funnel the assets into an offshore account.

But he’d led a killer to Sarah’s door.

He stared at the passports in his hand. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave and abandon Sarah and her children. They were targets now, and that was his fault.

But what was he going to do? His daughter had to come first. Maybe he could help Sarah after he got Lucia safely hidden. At the very least, he would warn Mike.

Heading for the steps, he went in search of his daughter. He had much more to tell her. It was time he was entirely—or at least mostly—honest with her. There were some things about the day her mother was killed that Cristan would never want her to know.

“Lucia?” he called as he approached her room.

No answer. The door was almost closed. He pushed against the wood. Her room was empty. The picture Sarah had given her was on the bed, the back of the frame pried open, the article removed. He checked the closet. No backpack. He ran through the upstairs calling her name. She couldn’t have left. She couldn’t be out there, alone. Cristan’s mind ran to the woman in the newspaper photo, the one who reminded him of Eva, and to the two dead men with pictures of Cristan in their van. Something dangerous was out there, waiting, planning. He could feel malicious intent in the air. The thought of his little girl, alone and vulnerable while an unknown threat lurked, sent panic spiraling through him like a drill.

“Lucia!” He ran down the stairs and swept through the rooms on the first floor. In the hall, the wall frame that had contained the photo of Eva and Lucia was empty. A last check of the basement confirmed his worst fear.

Lucia was gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The small boat rocked in the current. In the shadow of an overhanging tree, she trained her night vision binoculars on the back of Christopher’s house. He’d chosen well. The house sat on a hill. Open ground on all four sides gave a possible intruder nowhere to hide. Likewise, there was no way for a car to linger in the road without being seen. Her lieutenant was sitting down the road. The best he could do was watch the end of Christopher’s driveway.

And the only vantage point to view the rear of the house was the river. She’d borrowed a small boat and paddled downstream to a huge tree. Exposed roots clutched the bank like talons. She’d tied her boat to a root in the shadows. From here she was invisible.

She checked her phone. No messages. Christopher hadn’t left by car. A light in the basement went on. What was he doing? When would he run?

At this point, he had to know someone from his past was after him. Carving the
V
into the bodies was a message she hoped he’d received. If not, the pictures in the van would speak loudly enough. He’d be prepping to flee now, and getting him out of that fortress he’d built was her first step. A light on the top floor went out. They were still in the house.

If she knew Christopher, it wouldn’t take him long to put his gear together. He’d be ready.

The back door opened and a figure slipped out into the dark. She followed the movement across the meadow. The body was too small to be Christopher. Luciana!

The child raced across the field directly toward her.

Stunned, she lowered the binoculars. This was an unexpected, but welcome, event. If she took Luciana, she could make Christopher do anything. The child was his weakness.

The sound of steady footfalls and regular breathing approached. She stilled. Water lapped on the sides of her boat. There was no way she could get to the bank in time to intercept the girl. Better to wait and follow her into the woods, where there was no chance of Christopher hearing the encounter.

She held her breath as the girl passed within thirty feet of her, ran along the edge of the water, and disappeared into the forest. Once the footsteps had faded, she pulled the boat to the edge of the bank and climbed out. Her foot slipped in the half-frozen mud, and icy water invaded her boot. Ignoring it, she clambered onto the giant root ball.

Her gaze went to the house. She raised her binoculars. There was no sign of Christopher. Did he know Luciana was gone? Would he follow? Just in case, she checked her weapons. Handgun, spare clip, knife. She had a flashlight but preferred not to use it. Being in the dark for hours, her eyes had adjusted.

She headed into the woods on the trail Luciana had used. There was no sign of the girl, but the child had covered the meadow rapidly. She was obviously in good condition. Catching her would not be easy.

Especially for one in less-than-prime shape.

The cold bit into her lungs. Once the darkness closed around her, she slowed her pace, accessed the GPS on her phone, and viewed a map of the area. On the other side of this patch of woods was a local highway. If Luciana followed the river, that’s where she would end up. She estimated the distance and time it would take to traverse the trail in the dark, then sent her driver a message.

When Luciana emerged from the woods, he would be waiting.

After the emergency vehicles had left her street, Sarah sat alone in her kitchen. Since their bedtime had come and gone, Mrs. Holloway had offered to keep Alex, Em, and Bandit overnight. The house was too quiet, and Sarah’s nerves hummed. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the bodies in the van. Mike was right. She shouldn’t stay here alone tonight. She’d pack a bag and drive out to Mike and Rachel’s place.

She dialed her sister’s number.

“Hello?” Rachel answered, her voice sounding uncharacteristically weak.

“Is everything all right?” Sarah asked.

Rachel groaned. “I think I ate something bad.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“No,” Rachel answered. “You’d better keep your distance in case this is a virus instead of food poisoning. I’d hate to give this to the girls. I’m going to crawl into bed and stay there.”

“OK. But call me if you need anything.” Sarah ended the call. Maybe she could sleep on Mrs. Holloway’s couch.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. She tensed, expecting the caller to be Troy.

Cristan.

She answered. “Hello.”

“Sarah, Lucia is gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

His voice was low, angry, and desperate. “We had an argument. She ran away.”

“OK. Calm down. How long has she been gone?”

“Maybe two hours. Maybe a bit less.”

“Then she couldn’t have gotten too far.” Sarah could picture him pacing. “Call Mike. I’ll come and help you look for her.”

To her surprise, he didn’t argue. She left the house, locked up behind her, and headed for Cristan’s house. She knew where he lived. She’d dropped Lucia off once, but she’d never been in his house.

The big stone house sat on a hill at the end of a long driveway. Sarah parked and went up to the front door. Cristan answered before she knocked. He must have been watching for her.

“Did you call Mike?” she asked.

“Yes. He’s notifying the state police and county sheriff’s department. He’s also calling in some firemen to help look for her.”

“Good.” Sarah stepped into the foyer. With the heavy stone exterior, she’d expected a closed-in house full of antiques, but Cristan’s furnishings were sleek and minimalistic. He’d only bothered with the bare essentials. The sole attempt to make the space more personal was a row of photographs in the hall. She paused. One of the frames hung empty and crooked. Other than the framed pictures, the walls were mostly bare. She peered through the doorway into the living room. No knickknacks adorned the furniture. They lived here, but the sparse decor suggested a reluctance to make this place a home.

He paced the oak floorboards, one hand clutching the back of his head.

“I assume you searched outside.”

“Yes.” He pivoted and took three strides down the hall. “I drove several miles in each direction as well.”

“How did she get out?” Sarah asked.

“I’m not sure. The security system was off. She must have turned off the alarm and walked out the door.” He swept a hand through his thick black hair.

“Where were you?” Sarah asked.

“In the basement.”

“Did you try to trace her phone?”

He pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “She left it in her room.”

Smart kid.

“I called her best friend. She’s in New York City with her mother and hasn’t heard from Lucia.”

Sarah walked closer. His pain and fear were palpable. She reached out and touched his arm. “We’ll find her.”

He stopped, the tendons on each side of his neck as tight as electrical lines. “Thank you. But she was very upset with me.”

“Want to tell me what you fought about?”

“Not right now, but she has every reason to be angry.” Misery etched his face. “I haven’t been the best father.”

Sarah squeezed his forearm. “Parenting is hard. No one is perfect. All we can do is our best. Trust me. I know all about making mistakes.”

He nodded. “I have to go out and look for her.”

“What did Mike say?”

“He wants me to stay here in case she comes home, but I can’t sit still while she is out there.” His hand swept toward the door. The scope of his gesture suggested the motion stood for bigger fears than he could express. “Alone.”

Sarah tightened her hold on his arm. The muscles under her palm were rigid. “Mike will find her. You need to trust him.”

A painful sigh left his chest, and his face was twisted with misery. “I don’t know if I’m capable.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, the muscles of his back hard and taut under her fingers. “I hate to ask this, but what do you think Lucia would do if she saw you? Would she come to you or would she hide?”

“I don’t know.” The weight of his chin settled on the top of her head.

“Can you tell me what you fought about?” Sarah’s heart ached for him.

“No.” His body shifted. His hands gripped her arms, and he pushed her away. His dark eyes closed off again. “I lied to her, and I don’t know if she will ever forgive me.”

“She loves you.”

“Love isn’t always enough. Tonight, Lucia feels as if I betrayed her, and I can’t blame her. I deserve all of her hostility.” He dropped his hands from her arms and took a step backward. “There are many things you don’t know about me, Sarah. If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me either.”

“Why don’t you just tell me and let me decide for myself?” Apprehension swept through Sarah. He’d never volunteered much information about his past, and she’d always sensed he was holding back something important. But she’d never been afraid of him. Never once had she feared that he would hurt her. If anything, she’d felt safer in his presence, her instincts were certain that he would protect her from danger. But the storm rolling through his dark eyes put her on edge. Whatever he was holding back was big.

“Now is not the time. I need to find Lucia.” He shook his head. “She is in grave danger.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Sadness tasted like salt. Lucia sniffed. Her eyes watered as the freezing wind swept down the trail. She tugged her hat over her ears. When she’d been riding outside that afternoon, she’d been fine, but it felt much colder at night. And dark. Very dark. A thin cover of clouds obscured the moon.

She tripped, fell to her knees, and landed on something hard. The blow sang through her cold bones like the tuning fork her music teacher used in class. Tears slid from her eyes, the moisture running down her face in icy tracks. She swiped her cheek with a gloved hand. A sob trembled in her chest. She sucked it back.

Sitting on the ground and crying wouldn’t accomplish anything.

She checked her watch. Knowing her father could track the GPS in her phone, she’d left it at home, hidden in a drawer on silent. Eventually, he’d figure out that she hadn’t taken her cell with her, but every minute she could gain was more space between her and him.

He’d betrayed her.

She never wanted to see him again, but he was the only person she had in the world, and thinking about never seeing him again sent more tears spilling down her cheeks. She packed her sorrow deep inside. If she let it out now, she’d be paralyzed. She’d curl into a ball and die there on the trail.

Maybe that would be for the best. Right now she didn’t feel like she had a reason to live.

Stumbling to her feet, she reached into her backpack for her flashlight. She switched it on. The narrow beam of light in front of her somehow made the woods seem even darker. She’d been afraid to use it when she’d been close to the house. But she was far enough from home now, and she hadn’t heard any sounds to indicate he was following her. He’d been in the basement loading the car when she’d slipped out the door. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice she was gone before she’d put some more distance between them. When she’d left the house, she’d known better than to walk alongside the road. It was only a matter of time until her father came after her. Instead, she’d run across the meadow and followed the river toward the forest path. The ground was hard and cold and she’d made sure her hiking boots didn’t leave prints. She’d covered the open ground as quickly as possible and sought the darkness of the woods. She breathed easier when she entered the cover of the trees.

To her right, the sound of the river gave her direction. She and Dad had hiked this trail often last fall, but they hadn’t been out since winter hit. Dad didn’t like the cold.

Shivering, she trudged forward. Inside her boots, her toes stung with cold, and her knee ached where she’d landed on the tree root. She pictured her father. He’d be terrified once he noticed she was missing. Part of her wanted him so suffer, but she also felt guilty, which was stupid.
Hello? He’d lied to her.

Her mother had been murdered and he hadn’t bothered to tell her. Grief raged in her chest, as fresh as if she’d just learned of her mother’s death. How could Dad have done this to her? Her entire life was a lie. Anger fueled her steps and drove her forward.

She continued through the dark forest for a long time, until her feet felt like blocks of ice and the trail ended in a road. Lucia turned right and walked along the shoulder. She was visible on the open road, and a sense of vulnerability fell over her.

Her father’s words rang in her mind.
I am afraid the people who killed your mother will come for you.
That is not the kind of information you keep from a person, she thought.

The forest ran alongside the road, but there wasn’t a trail. She walked across the bridge, stopping in the center to watch the dark water rush underneath. She trained her flashlight on the river and watched a branch get caught up in the current and swept under the bridge. Her past felt like that branch, whisked out from under her feet faster than she could process. She didn’t know how to react. She didn’t even know where she was going, other than the barn. Wherever she went, she had to say good-bye to Snowman first.

She wished she could take him with her. If they had lived out West, it might have been possible for her to ride away and hide in the wilderness. But northeastern Pennsylvania was too crowded. There was no disappearing in the woods. She’d have to go to a city, where it would be easier to blend. She had the protein bars she’d taken from her go-bag, but only two bottles of water. Any more made her pack too heavy to carry. She’d also taken three hundred dollars, but she didn’t know how far that would get her. Probably not very far. Where was the nearest bus station? If she still had her phone, she could call Jenna and see if she could help. Jenna and her mom were in New York City for the weekend, but she’d be back tomorrow. Maybe she could hide in their basement for a few days, just until she made a plan.

She left the bridge and continued walking along the shoulder of the road. The eight-mile trip to the barn felt much shorter when they drove, but she had to be getting close. She checked her watch. She’d been walking for almost three hours. Maybe her detour through the trees had added some distance to her journey.

An engine sounded behind her. She turned. Headlights approached.

Had he found her? Not already. She couldn’t bear to see him. Lucia ran toward the woods. Hiding behind a tree, she realized she’d left her flashlight on.
How could she be so stupid?
Hoping the driver of the car hadn’t seen the light, she switched it off. Darkness fell around her. Something moved in the branch above her head.

The vehicle slowed and stopped alongside the road. The driver must have seen her. Lucia peered around the tree trunk. A figure got out of the vehicle. Her heart rapped against her rib cage. Fear slid along her skin like cold water when she realized the headlights were too high for the vehicle to be a car—and the driver wasn’t her father.

Cristan paced his kitchen. Trusting someone else to find his daughter was ripping a hole of frustration inside him. How could he be here, safe in his kitchen, when his little girl was out in the dark facing unknown dangers?

“Drink this.” Sarah pushed a cup of coffee across the island toward him.

“I’m giving Mike thirty more minutes. If he hasn’t found her by ten thirty, I’m going after her.” Waiting was killing him.

“How long has she been gone now?” Sarah asked.

He glanced at the clock. “Three hours.” The longest three hours of his life.

“How far could she get in three hours?”

“It’s dark and cold, but she took provisions with her.” He’d made it easy for her by keeping her go-bag in his bedroom closet. He’d always wanted them to be able to get out of the house quickly
in an emergency.
There was a fire ladder in his bedroom for a second
-
story exit,
which she thankfully hadn’t attempted to use by herself.
B
ut she had turned his paranoia against him. Her pack was loaded with a flashlight, power bars, and clothing. But how far could a thirteen-year-old get alone? “In better weather, we hike regularly. With a full pack, Lucia can manage three miles of flat ground in an hour. Allowing for the darkness, I would guess six miles.”

Sarah took his hand. “So she hasn’t gotten too far.”

“Six miles is far. It’s cold and dark . . .”

“I know.” She squeezed his hand, and the comfort she offered tempted him. “I won’t claim to know what you’re feeling, but every time my girls are with Troy I have this ball of fear under my heart. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe.”

That was exactly how he felt, as if a deep breath would crack his ribs.

She wrapped both hands tightly around his. “Mike is one of the best men I know, and this town knows how to pull together. They’ll find her. I know you want to be out there, but if she’s as mad as you think, she’d probably run from you.”

“She was very angry.” Guilt rested on Cristan’s shoulders. He wished he could go back twelve years in time and not lie to his daughter. But at the time, honesty hadn’t been practical, and he knew if he had to do it all over again, he’d probably make the same choices. He’d hidden the truth from Lucia for multiple reasons. Yes, he’d wanted her to feel normal, but he’d also feared that a young child would not be able to keep such a large secret. There was no way he would have been able to allow her to attend school, and he couldn’t imagine the stress knowing their true situation would have placed on her. As she got older, telling her the truth had felt more and more impossible.

“She’s a teenager. They’re volatile. She’ll get over it.”

“I doubt it.” He simply had to find her. “I can’t sit here any longer. I have to look for her. Would you come with me?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” He slipped into his coat and pulled the keys from his jacket pocket. His phone beeped. “It’s Mike.”

Cristan answered.

“I’ve got her.” Mike wasted no words.

Relief nearly crippled Cristan. He covered the speaker and mouthed, “He found her.”

“Thank God.” Sarah exhaled.

Cristan listened to Mike for a few seconds. “I’ll be right there.”

He ended the call and turned to Sarah. “He spotted her walking on the shoulder of the road. She was headed toward the farm. I’m going there now.” He hesitated. “I hate to impose, but would you still come with me? Lucia likes you, and at the moment, Mike says she doesn’t want to speak to me. I think she could use a woman to talk to.”

“Of course I’ll come.” Sarah donned her coat. “Lucia might be angry with you, but she loves you.”

“I’m not sure she can forgive me that quickly.” As he led Sarah out into the darkness, he wondered if his daughter would ever be able to forgive him.

Sarah followed Cristan out to Rachel’s house. He turned into the entrance to the farm and parked in the gravel lot. Sarah pulled her minivan in next to his Mercedes. As Cristan got out of the car, Mike strode out of the barn. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “She’s with Snowman.” He put a hand on Cristan’s chest, stopping him. “If I were you, I’d let Sarah talk to her first.”

Fresh anguish passed over Cristan’s face. With a resigned nod, he went to the house with Mike.

Sarah went into the barn. The dirt aisle was hard and cold under her shoes, and she zipped her jacket to her chin against the chilly night. Horses snorted and feet shuffled in straw. She stopped at a half door with a brass plaque that read
Snowman
.

The white gelding stood in the middle of his stall. Next to him, Lucia hugged his neck. The horse’s head was bent around the child’s body, as if he were hugging her back.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Lucia said without moving.

Sarah rested her forearms on the door. “Lucia?”

The girl lifted her head and turned. Tears streaked her blotchy face. Seeing Sarah, she wiped her face on her sleeve. Behind the redness, her skin was pale. “Sorry. I thought you were my dad.”

“Are you cold?”

Lucia shook her head. “I’m OK.”

“I know you’re angry with your dad, but you scared him tonight.”

Lucia’s face hardened. “He lied to me. About everything.” Snowman shifted, bumping her shoulder with his nose. Lucia wrapped an arm under his neck.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Lucia rested her temple against the horse’s head. “No.” Her face was as full of misery as Cristan’s.

“I don’t know what he did, but I do know that he loves you.”

“He shouldn’t have lied to me.” Lucia stroked the horse’s nose with a gloved hand.

“That’s what he said.”

Lucia straightened. “Really?”

“I think he regrets not being more honest with you. People make mistakes.” Sarah had made plenty of her own. “No one is perfect. But I know better than anyone that regrets don’t make bad decisions go away.”

“No. They don’t.” Lucia sighed, sadness trembling in her breath. “I don’t know if I can forgive him.”

The child’s love for her father made his betrayal even more painful.

Sarah sighed, her own regrets swamping her. “I wonder if my girls will feel the same as you do when they get older. Marrying Troy was the biggest mistake I ever made, but I can’t undo it. My only option is to move forward and minimize the damage.”