Slaying the Dragon (Deception Duet #2) (9 page)

“And what’s that?”

He sighed. “I still don’t have a fucking clue. I’m trying, Mack, but I’m no closer to finding out who’s behind it than I was years ago. All the physical evidence still points–”

“To my father.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe he
is
behind it all,” I offered. As much as I didn’t want to think my father could be capable of committing such a heinous crime, I couldn’t disregard what years of investigations had concluded. “I have no idea what evidence there is either way, but I can’t help but want to put faith in our criminal justice system.”

“Well, you shouldn’t, Mack. The decisions made in law enforcement offices across the country…fuck, the
world
…are nothing but power plays done for political gain. It’s all about public appearance in the press, making the concerned citizens believe that something’s actually being done to put a stop to rampant criminal behavior. So they find someone to pin crimes on…”

“You expect me to believe everyone who is arrested is innocent?” I asked, my voice heavy with disbelief. “I highly doubt that, Charlie.”

“I’m not saying that, Mack. I’m just saying that, in high profile cases, ones with a lot of public attention, you have to take everything you learn from the media with a grain of salt. Hell, they think I’m responsible for killing over a dozen people. Their only evidence? A web blog and some phony visitation records. Anyone with decent computer skills could have faked that.”

“But why?”

“Maybe because I was getting too close. Maybe because someone figured out I knew who you were and wanted to try to protect you. Until I know the answer, please promise me you’ll be safe and will stick close to Tyler.”

My breath hitched and I debated how much I should tell Charlie.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “We… We’re not together anymore.”

“What? Why? What happened?” His voice was panicked.

I considered telling him everything. How Tyler had only dated me to find my father, just like Charlie had, but it made me seem simple-minded and gullible.

“It just didn’t work out between us, Charlie, and that’s all I’m going to say about it.”

“Shit, Kenzie,” he muttered. “If I had known…” There was a heavy pause and I could picture Charlie’s strong face, his vibrant blue eyes illuminating his dark features.

“I’ve been fine, Charlie. It’s been over for months now.”

“Months? And you didn’t tell me?”

“How could I?” I shot back. “I have no way of getting in touch with you!”

“It’s a necessity. I’m sorry. I have to do everything I can to make my movements untraceable.”

“I’m being careful,” I offered in consolation, able to sense his unease. “I’m–”

The sound of sirens blared through the phone, growing louder and louder, and my heart sank in my chest.

“I’ve got to go,” he whispered.

“Wait! Charlie?”

The line went dead.

Mackenzie

T
HE
CLOCK
ON
THE
far wall of my bedroom struck eight as the alarm on my phone sounded, but I continued staring at the ceiling. I was at the point of exhaustion where I was wide awake. I wasn’t sure if I had actually slept or not. All night long, my eyes were glued to the national news, waiting for a breaking report that Charlie had been apprehended. Since he hung up on me, an unsettled feeling had grown more and more intense, leaving me with more questions than answers, and I needed to do something to ease my restless thoughts. There was only one thing that would give me the peace I needed. My routine.

Swinging my legs to the side of the bed, I padded to my dresser and pulled out some running shorts and a loose-fitting tank top that was no longer quite as loose-fitting. After lacing up my sneakers and eating a banana, I headed out of my condo to get to the gym.

“Have a nice workout, Miss Delano,” a formal voice said as I exited the elevator.

I looked over my shoulder to see the new security guard, who started a few months ago, sitting at the desk. He was easily in his early sixties and, from his tone and stature, I could only assume he was retired military. I expected him to start saluting the tenants of the building at any time now.

“Thanks, Wyatt.”

As I approached my car and was about to duck into the driver’s seat, I saw the same black sedan as the day before idling on the street, the sole occupant keeping his eyes trained forward. I wondered if it had some connection to Charlie. Or maybe it was it someone looking for my father. I immediately grew suspicious and recalled Charlie’s words from months ago, urging me to stray from my routine because it made me a predictable and easy target. As much as I cringed at the thought, I knew he was right.

Pulling my iPod out of my bag, I clipped it to my tank top and put in my earbuds, lowering the volume so I could hear the traffic around me. Feeling surprisingly composed with the break in my routine, I threw my bag in my car, locked it, then stored my keys in my pocket.

As I trotted through the parking lot and ran south along the beach, I noticed the dark sedan driving along the main drag of the island in the same direction I was heading. Trying to shake off my paranoia, I took several calming breaths, running through dozens of possible scenarios as to why the sedan that had mysteriously appeared in front of my building had left at the same time I did. I was on alert, perhaps more than necessary. It could have all been a coincidence, but I was beginning to learn there was no such thing.

Running at an easy pace, thanks to my doctor’s admonition that I not overexert myself and keep my body temperature low, I basked in the morning sun, the humidity causing sweat to drench my tank top after a mere five minutes. The beach was relatively empty, apart from a few people enjoying a morning walk or jog. A few dogs were chasing balls their owners threw and seagulls were flying overhead, looking for their next meal.

A smile crossed my face and my usually tense shoulders relaxed. It was invigorating to be outside and not in some stuffy gym. After everything with Tyler, I had become diligent to never stray from the safety of my routine, as I had with him. But perhaps a new, better routine was exactly what I needed to give myself a renewed outlook on life. Everywhere else on the island had been tainted with Tyler’s presence. My condo. The gym. The tapas bar. The restaurant. They all held memories of him. But the beach held none of that. Out here, I could have the new start I needed and deserved. Out here, I could sever the chains binding me to the lies he fed me to get what he wanted.

What was that anyway?
I thought, slowing to a stop as a golden retriever darted past me, chasing after a ball his owner had thrown into the ocean. I closed my eyes, the ghost of Tyler dancing in my mind, replaying a scene I had suppressed the past few months.

“Hurt me! Hate me! I want you to! I deserve it! I deserve everything you can do to me, Mackenzie, but you need to know something… I didn’t say anything. When you found me last night at the dedication dinner and I was distant, that’s because my brother asked about your father. He asked me if I knew where he was, if you had told me. And you want to know what I said? I said nothing, even after he warned me I could face potential prison time, or worse, if I withheld that information. So you can hate me all you want. You can bleed me dry and I will still bleed for you.”

Feeling lightheaded, I lowered myself to the ground, lying on the sand. It was refreshing against my sweat-drenched back, temporarily cooling the heat running through me at the possibility I had been too stubborn to consider all the shades of gray that made up Tyler’s lies. Yes, he led me to believe he was genuinely interested in me, but at what point did I become a priority over his job, his mission? Or was his plea to me that day all part of the act? I ran my hand over my face, trying to make sense of it all. I didn’t know what to believe anymore, but I knew one thing…

“He really didn’t say anything,” I mumbled to myself. I told Tyler everything. How I knew my father was still alive. How I knew where he was. How I still saw him on a regular basis at the church I attended when I lived in San Antonio.

He knew exactly how to find my father, yet he was still a free man. Tyler continued to safeguard my secret, regardless of the possible repercussions to his own livelihood. I thought I did what was right, what anyone would do after learning the person they loved wasn’t who they said they were. But I was now more confused than ever, wondering whether my obstinacy had cost me the only man who would ever make me swoon.

~~~~~~~~~~

A
FTER
MAKING
THE
DECISION
to cut my run short, I headed back to my condo to get ready for my day. I went through the usual motions…shower, dress, makeup…but Tyler was on my mind more than usual today. As I was preparing a cup of coffee, I couldn’t help but think there was a reason for this.

Lost in my thoughts, I jumped when there was a light knock on the door. My heels clicking as I made my way to the foyer, my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach as I pulled open the door, all the memories of the life I was trying to move past rushing forward.

“Mrs. Burnham…,” I said, unable to hide the surprise in my voice as I stared at the petite woman with short platinum hair.

“Please, dear.” She took off her large white sunglasses and put them in her purse. “Call me Colleen,” she said with a genuine smile.

Nodding and in a daze, I stepped back. “Won’t you come in, Colleen?”

Her eyes shot to my stomach as she took in my side view. Today
would
be the day I chose to wear something that showed off my figure, including the baby bump, instead of one of my flowing maxi dresses. The black sheath dress I wore made my stomach rather pronounced.
 

“I see,” she said, walking through the foyer and into the living area.

Nervous about why she was here, I headed toward the kitchen area of my open living space. “Can I get you anything? A coffee? Water?”

“I’m fine, dear.”

I nodded, grabbing the cup of coffee that had finished brewing. Adding a bit of sweetener and some milk, I tried to ignore the unsettled thoughts floating through my mind. This was the story of my life. Just when everything seemed to be back on track and I thought I’d get over my past, a reminder of what I had been through would show up on my doorstep. I didn’t know how many setbacks a person could possibly endure before it became too much.

I walked to the living room, noticing her eye the stack of bills on my kitchen table, a look of sympathy on her face. I didn’t want her empathy. It would just be another reminder of how naïve I was.

“Won’t you have a seat?” I gestured to the couch as I sat down in the spot that had always been mine.

“Thank you,” she said, sitting down on the opposite end. She glanced to my stomach again, a forlorn expression crossing her face. “Well, you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here.”

I laughed nervously at the light tone of her voice. “You could say that. In all honesty, I’m scared to know.” Raising my cup to my lips, I took a much needed sip of my coffee, despite the fact it was decaffeinated.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Certainly,” I replied, my voice guarded. Placing my mug on the coffee table, I braced myself for whatever she was about to ask.

“How far along are you?”

“Seventeen weeks.” I glanced at my stomach, placing my hand over it. “Almost eighteen.”

“During those almost eighteen weeks, how many times have you tried to get in touch with Tyler?”

“I’ve lost track,” I admitted, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I didn’t want her to see how much her son’s actions affected me. “I told him to stay away, but I didn’t think he would.”

“I know, dear,” she said, scooting across the couch and grabbing my hand in hers. The contact was comforting and soothing.

“I started to think I made him up. I went to his house and…” I turned my gaze from her, the memory of that day still fresh, the feeling I was losing my mind resurfacing.

Placing her hand on my shoulder, she said, “I can imagine how difficult it is to see the reminders of him–”

I shot up. “
No
! It’s so much more than that. After I was home for a week, I finally stopped being stubborn and decided to go over there to talk to him about everything. You know who answered the door?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who?” she asked cautiously.

“A man who knew my name, who tried to convince me he had been living in that house for years!” I began pacing in front of her, reliving that day from hell. “It was exactly as I remembered. The décor the same. The cars the same. Hell, anchored out back was the same yacht I remember! I was so confused. I was convinced I imagined everything between us! I searched for some sort of proof that what we had was real, that we
did
know each other, but there was nothing. Photos had been manipulated on my phone so he was no longer in any of them. Not one trace of his existence in my life was left. I couldn’t help but think I made it all up! Even after all the assurances my friends had given me that he was real, that he did exist, I still questioned it. Until…”