“Your father. The murderer.”
“He’s not here.” Tears slid down her pale face. “What is this all about?” she whispered. “I don’t understand.”
“Alan and Neal are dead because of him.”
“Who are Alan and Neal?”
“My brothers.”
She raked a hand through the hair she’d left down. Just as he liked it. They were supposed to meet later, so he knew she’d done it to please him. That very fact made him hesitate a fraction of a second.
“Police! Freeze!”
Miles dove for Paula, grabbed her and wrapped an arm around her neck. She let out another scream and twisted away from him, but he grabbed a hunk of that hair he’d been admiring and yanked. A squeal of pain erupted from her, and he jerked her back against him with his left hand and raised his weapon with his right to hold it against her right ear.
He recognized the FBI agent holding his weapon on him. “Linc St. John. You killed my brother.” His gaze swept to the man beside him. “And you. Blake MacCallum. If you had just done as you were told to do, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“Kill the judge for you? Not a chance.”
“Just goes to show you, research can be faulty.”
“So, you set all this up, just to kill Judge Worthington.”
“I did. I knew Neal was involved in the human trafficking business. It was easy to convince him I wanted in. And besides, he wanted revenge for our brother’s death as well.”
“Which one of you killed the woman who testified against Alan?”
“That was me. The witch. Alan begged Judge Worthington to allow his attorney more time to gather evidence, but he was denied it. As a result, Alan died. And he was innocent!”
“So, you kidnapped Rachel,” Linc said. “Stuck her in with the other girls and waited for Blake to do your dirty work.”
“But he wouldn’t do it!”
“No,” Blake said. “It wasn’t that I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it.”
Chloe had snuck in behind the guys and, with a heavy heart, checked the two marshals on the floor. Justin was dead. Parker was hanging on. Barely. She did her best to stem the bleeding, but didn’t hold out much hope for him. She’d also put a call in for backup and now she and Hank headed down the hall looking for a way to come up behind Miles and his hostage.
At the end of the runner, she stopped and knelt. A pat to her shoulder brought Hank up on her back. She didn’t want his nails clicking on the hardwoods she had to cross in order to get to the sunroom. Once in the sunroom, she lowered Hank to the floor and whispered for him to stay. He sat and watched her, eyes tracking her every move.
She slipped to the second door and glanced around the edge. Linc and Blake were holding Miles at gunpoint. Miles had his automatic pistol to his fiancée’s temple.
“. . . let us walk out of here and you’ll never hear from me again. I don’t want to die, but I will before I set foot in prison.”
“Suicide by cop?” Blake asked. He moved a little closer, and while Miles eyed him, he didn’t change position or loosen his grip on the weapon.
From her vantage point, Chloe could see Paula shaking in the arms of the man who’d betrayed her. Chloe lifted her weapon and aimed it at the back of his head. Unfortunately, if she was even a fraction off, she might hit Paula.
“Let her go, Miles!”
He jerked, spun, bringing Paula with him. Paula jerked and tripped. Her movement took her captor by surprise and he must have loosened his grip. She landed on the floor.
Two weapons fired three shots each.
Chloe dove for Paula and yanked her out of reach. She tossed the woman to the side like a rag doll and rolled. “Hank, apport!”
In a blur, Hank passed Chloe and latched on to the man now writhing on the floor, still gripping his weapon.
Miles screamed when Hank’s teeth sank into his arm. Chloe scrambled to her feet, took three steps, and soccer-kicked the weapon from his hand. “He’s down!”
Backup rushed in as Linc and Blake raced to her side. Linc flipped the bleeding man and Chloe dug a knee into his back as she cuffed him. He choked and she rolled him to his side while he blinked, clinging to a life that was quickly fading. “He was my brother.” Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. “They were my brothers.”
“Neal and Alan,” Chloe said.
“Yes,” he wheezed. “Half brothers. I was supposed to watch out for them.”
“Why kill Ethan?”
A gasping cough rattled from him. “A . . . weak . . . link. Couldn’t let him get . . . caught.”
“You set this all up!” Paula threw herself at her former fiancé and landed a good punch to his shoulder before Linc hauled her off. “You did this! You used me!”
The wounded man coughed up blood. “And now my brothers . . . and I . . . will finally be together ag—”
Chloe knew the moment life left him. His eyes took on that look that only dead people had.
Ben Worthington stepped into the den, gun in hand.
“Drop the weapon! Drop the gun! Now!” Officers’ voices blended as one.
“It’s okay!” Blake crossed to the man’s side and took it from him.
“I couldn’t get a shot,” the judge said. “I heard the shots and went to get my weapon. When I came back, Miles had the gun on her. And then you were here and I . . . didn’t know what to do. So . . . I waited.”
“Good decision,” Linc said.
Paula rushed to his side and he held her to him. She sobbed into his shoulder and tears dripped down the judge’s chin. “I heard you tell Miles I wasn’t here.”
“I couldn’t let him hurt you.” She hiccupped and swiped a hand across her face. “I knew you’d come running. And I just couldn’t let him kill you.”
Chloe placed a hand on the woman’s back. “It’s over.”
29
A WEEK LATER
Chloe leaned back and crossed her arms while she surveyed the dining table. Her family. Albeit, they were all a bit crazy—that came with the occupation. Even Ruthie could have a weird sense of humor.
Her father, who sat next to her, tapped her shoulder. “Earth to Chloe.”
She blinked. “Oh. Sorry.”
He held up the flat, square box. “Pizza?”
Even though she was full, she took another slice and bit into it. Pizza night at home. One of her favorite times to get together. “You guys did a good job, Dad.”
“What do you mean?”
“Balancing family and high-profile, stressful careers. You and Mom managed to stay together and build a family. Granted, we’re a bunch of weirdos and have our issues, but at least we’re all on the right side of the law.”
A light smack on the side of her head made her jump. “Who are you calling a weirdo, weirdo?” Brady asked.
“Derek.”
“Oh, sorry.” He hung his head for a moment, then rubbed the spot he’d smacked even though he hadn’t hurt her one bit. “Okay. You called that one right. You owe me a head smack.”
She grinned. They both knew she’d collect. Her father snorted and shook cheese onto the two pieces of pizza he looked eager to devour.
Her mother’s phone rang and she stood to answer. Izzy fed her pizza to Ryan Marshall, her husband, and Ruthie rolled her eyes at Chloe as though disgusted by the sappy display. Derek stole the half slice left on their mother’s plate and ate it in two bites. Blake sat to her right, with Rachel next to him. The noise level in the room rivaled that of a sonic boom. She loved it. Most of the time.
Blake gave her knee a nudge under the table and tilted his head toward the den. She stood. “Excuse me a minute.”
“And me,” Blake said.
Rachel’s eyes narrowed, but Chloe thought she saw a flash of happiness there before she lowered her gaze back to her pizza. Derek let out a low whistle and Brady raised a brow as he watched them leave.
She wondered if Blake placed his hand on the small of her back on purpose or just out of habit. He held the door open and Hank shot through it into the fenced yard. Chloe took a seat on the porch swing and grabbed the blanket draped over the back.
“Want me to light the firepit?” he asked.
“Sure.”