Death is Not Enough (Romantic Suspense #21)

‘Fuck,’ Gwyn muttered. ‘Pain in the ass. What else? Did they find the bullet?’

‘Yeah. It was embedded in one of the concrete walls inside the lobby. We got lucky. The concrete stopped it. Had it gone through, its next stop was a living room where kids were playing.’

Thorne’s blood ran cold. ‘Oh my God.’

‘But it did not breach the concrete,’ Gwyn told him sternly. ‘Nobody got hurt. Right, JD?’

‘Right,’ JD said decisively. ‘Hyatt’s taking the case from Montgomery County PD, because it’s being linked to the murder of Patricia Linden Segal. I can’t tell you much right now except that nobody saw anything. Of course.’

‘Does this help clear Thorne?’ Phil asked hopefully.

‘Right now? No,’ JD answered. ‘But in the longer term it should. That’s only my opinion. Who knew you all would be at that apartment building?’

Thorne’s gaze met Jamie’s troubled one. ‘Detective Prew did,’ Jamie said.

‘He said he didn’t know the EMT,’ Phil whispered.

Jamie shook his head. ‘He saw our list. He knew we’d be contacting him eventually.’

‘Who is Prew?’ JD asked sharply.

‘The detective who handled the murder of Richard Linden,’ Jamie said. ‘He’s retired now.’

‘What did he tell you?’

‘Not much,’ Jamie replied non-committally, making JD scowl at him. Jamie glanced over JD’s shoulder, focusing on the curtain. Where Hyatt was probably listening. He mouthed his next words. ‘What we did hear, we’ve passed on to Lucy.’

JD’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. ‘So then you went to the apartment to see Brent Kiley. Why?’

Thorne answered this time. ‘He was the EMT who responded to the scene of Richard Linden’s murder. He was belligerent. Didn’t tell us a thing.’ Then he mouthed, ‘Later.’

He’d tell JD everything, but he didn’t trust Lieutenant Hyatt. Not with the lives of his friends, anyway.

JD nodded. ‘How long were you there?’

‘Only a few minutes,’ Gwyn said. ‘It’s unlikely that was long enough for him to summon a shooter.’

‘Probably not,’ JD agreed. ‘Who else knew?’

The four of them stared at each other for a long moment before Jamie sighed. ‘I thought I’d lost all the tails this morning, but it’s possible we were followed. A few news vans, a few unmarked cars. One was Hyatt’s man, I’m sure of that.’

‘Yeah, you lost him,’ JD confirmed. ‘Hyatt was pissed.’

Jamie looked pleased. ‘Yesss. I’ve still got it. The ability to lose tails, I mean. I never lost the ability to piss off cops.’ He sobered. ‘I called everyone who’s helping out to warn them, just so you know.’

Thorne stared at him, surprised. ‘You did that? Already?’

‘He needed something to do,’ Phil said indulgently. ‘So I gave him the task.’

JD checked his phone. ‘Lucy texted me about it. She says for you to be careful.’ One side of his mouth lifted fondly. ‘And that she loves you guys.’

Thorne rubbed a palm over his chest. That was bittersweet. He loved that Lucy loved him. He could only pray her love didn’t get her killed along with Gwyn and all the others.

‘We need to get out of here,’ he said hoarsely. ‘We have things to do.’

The curtain opened, revealing a very irritated-looking Lieutenant Hyatt. ‘Yes, you have things to do, Mr Thorne. Like talking to me. Come with me, please. We’re going to a secure location.’

Thorne didn’t immediately move and the others followed his lead. ‘What will we talk about, Lieutenant?’

Hyatt met his eyes directly. ‘About all the people who hate you.’

‘That’ll take a week,’ Gwyn snarked.

Thorne glared at her, then at Hyatt. ‘Am I under arrest?’

‘Not yet,’ Hyatt replied, just as he’d done in the hospital the previous day. This time, however, the expression on his face was quite different. Yesterday he’d been frustrated and angry that Thorne wouldn’t talk to him. But now . . . There was something sharper in the man’s eyes. It looked like fear. ‘But we need to discuss your friends.’

Yes, Thorne thought, and once again his blood ran cold, because it was fear in the lieutenant’s eyes. Somehow he managed to keep his voice level. ‘What about them?’

‘At least four people in your little vigilante posse are important to me,’ Hyatt responded, shocking him. ‘And one of those people was just shot at. Not hit, because her husband’s reflexes are as quick as yours were today.’

‘Oh God,’ Gwyn gasped.

‘Stevie,’ Thorne whispered. She was the only person that made sense. She had worked for Hyatt for years.

‘Yes. She’s on her way into my office.’ The lieutenant drew a careful breath. ‘So you will talk to me, Mr Thorne.’

Thorne closed his eyes. ‘Yes. Let’s go.’

Wight’s Landing, Maryland,

Monday 13 June, 1.30 P.M.

Frederick double-checked the contents of Julie’s suitcase. He thought he’d packed everything. If not, he could come back for it, but he was getting Julie out of this house and somewhere she’d be safe.

Behind him, he heard the whir of her motorized wheelchair as she entered her bedroom. ‘Where are we going, Dad?’ she asked, her words labored but understandable. She’d made great strides since Frederick had moved them to Maryland. Back in northern California, they’d lived in an area so remote that there hadn’t been adequate physical or occupational therapy.

He zipped up the suitcase. ‘You’re going on a little vacation, to Clay and Stevie’s house.’ The couple had generously offered one of their spare rooms when Frederick had shared what Sally Brewster had told him. He was doubly grateful for it after he came home and found the caregiver parked in front of the television, just as Julie had told Sally.

He’d fired the woman on the spot. He still wanted to flinch at the raw hatred that had filled her eyes. So much for recommendations. He’d been sequestered in California for so long, his people-judging skills had grown rusty. I used to be so much better at this. He’d had to be, for his job. He’d have to be again, both for the work he did for Thorne and to protect his family.

Regardless, next time he hired a caregiver, he was installing a nanny-cam.

Julie’s blue eyes lit up. ‘To see Taylor?’

Julie and Daisy had inherited his first wife’s blond hair and blue eyes. Only Carrie had looked like him. The familiar pang of guilt and grief hit him hard and fast, then dissipated because Julie was smiling at him.

‘To see Taylor,’ he confirmed. ‘She’s got a new cart for one of the horses at the farm. She’s looking forward to taking you for a ride.’

Taylor was actually chomping at the bit herself, wanting to take a swing at the supposed ‘caregiver’ who’d been neglecting Julie. She’d missed her baby sister, so this visit would be a good thing. He wouldn’t have to worry about Julie with Taylor on point.

‘Yay!’ Julie clapped her hands, the movement perhaps appearing awkward to some, but it filled Frederick with joy. He loved seeing his baby girl so happy.

He sat on the edge of her bed so that they were eye to eye. ‘We need to have a little talk, honey.’

Julie’s gaze dropped. ‘Are you mad at me?’

‘Of course not,’ he said softly. He tipped up her chin. ‘But I was a little scared today. I talked to Miss Brewster.’

Julie smiled. ‘She was nice.’

‘She seemed so. But she’s a stranger, Jules, and you gave her our phone number.’

Julie’s eyes flickered with trepidation. ‘Am I in trouble?’

‘No, baby. But you can’t do that again. Miss Brewster was nice, but some people might not be.’

Her eyes clouded with confusion. ‘But Taylor’s dad turned out to be nice.’

He understood the connection she’d made. And she was right to challenge him on this. He’d assumed terrible things about Clay and his children had suffered because of it.

‘Yes, he did. But there are some really awful people in the world, who might try to . . .’ He searched for the right words, finally deciding on the simplest. ‘Hurt you.’

‘All right,’ she said, not sounding entirely convinced. ‘Will I still be able to go to the center?’