‘Gwyn is!’ Paige called over her shoulder. ‘Give her a Glock. We’ve drilled at the shooting range.’
‘Well, all right then,’ Clay said, but he looked doubtful, probably because Gwyn was still clutching Thorne like he was her lifeline. ‘Who’s the second best shot?’
Gwyn forced herself to release the chokehold she had on Thorne. Sliding off his lap, she held out her hand, proud that she’d controlled the trembling. ‘It’s fine. I’m fine. Give me the fucking gun.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Clay drawled, and obeyed, watching closely as she checked the magazine and racked the slide, making sure it was loaded properly.
She looked up at him, drawing on her defiance for strength. Just as she’d done for the last four and a half years. ‘Go. We’re good here.’
Clay gave her a single nod, then he was out the door leading to the backyard.
Only Alec stayed behind, his fingers flying over the computer keys, his eyes glued to his screen. He paused only to connect a cable from his cell phone to the device he wore behind his ear.
‘Does he have a cochlear implant?’ Jamie whispered, fascinated. ‘One of my clients has one. He has the same cord for his phone.’
‘Yes,’ Gwyn whispered back. Clay’s IT whizz-kid had pretty clear speech, so she tended to forget his deafness. She watched Alec now, mesmerized by his calm confidence. She envied him that confidence. Her own was mostly bravado.
‘I found him on camera two,’ Alec said into the phone. ‘He got away on a dirt bike. He’s headed through the woods.’
There was a pause, and Alec nodded. ‘I’ll keep watching. You keep your fool head down. Pops,’ he added irreverently.
Gwyn calmed a little bit more upon hearing that news.
‘Who is “Pops”?’ Phil asked.
Gwyn chuckled. ‘Taylor calls Frederick “Dad”. She needed a name for Clay and tried “Pops”. He hated it, so of course all the kids have taken to calling him that.’
Phil nodded, also looking a little calmer, although he was clutching Jamie’s hand hard. Or maybe Jamie was doing the clutching. It was hard to say, and in the end it didn’t matter. ‘Who is Alec to Clay?’ Phil asked.
Gwyn smiled. ‘Kind of like an adopted son. They met when Alec was a kid and had been kidnapped. Clay found him.’
‘Saved my fucking life,’ Alec said, surprising them all.
Gwyn stared at him. ‘Oh. I didn’t know if you could hear us and the phone at the same time.’
Alec still didn’t look up from his screen, his eyes darting back and forth. He was probably scanning the security feeds. ‘I got a second cochlear implant on my other side. I get bilateral input now. So you can stop talking about me like I’m not here.’
‘Join the fucking club,’ Thorne muttered.
Gwyn let his voice ground her, just as she always did. She sat perched on the arm of the loveseat, leaning into him. ‘If you didn’t shut us out of the important stuff, we might be able to talk to you instead of around you.’
Thorne’s lips thinned. ‘There is nothing to tell.’
She shook her head. ‘Whatever, hotshot.’
His phone buzzed loudly, and he flinched, then checked the screen. ‘It’s my contact,’ he said.
A few seconds passed, with Thorne still staring at his phone.
‘Well?’ Jamie asked impatiently.
‘I asked him how he was doing. He just messaged back, “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”’
Jamie sighed. ‘That doesn’t sound fine.’
Thorne scowled. ‘I know. I’m trying to figure out how to respond.’
Gwyn’s eyes narrowed at what she saw on the screen. ‘Wait just a fucking second, Thorne. That’s the number your contact uses?’
Thorne abruptly shut off his phone, but it was too late.
‘What?’ Jamie asked.
Gwyn turned to the others. ‘The number for his contact is the same damn number that Frederick just gave for the fake detective who was harassing Bernice Brown’s friend, and the one used to message his daughter.’
‘Thorne.’ The single syllable out of Jamie’s mouth carried disapproval, disappointment and more than a little fury.
Thorne shook his head stubbornly. ‘No. I’m not telling you anything more. Any of you. You’ll insist on “investigating”, and get yourselves killed.’
Several beats of enraged silence were broken by Alec’s low whistle. ‘Whoa. Way to piss off your posse, dude.’
Thorne’s face darkened. ‘I don’t need—’
Alec looked up at that. ‘What?’ he asked sarcastically. ‘You don’t need what? Our help? Fuck that. Our support? Fuck that squared. You don’t want to need it.’ He shook his head in disgust, his affected drawl mocking. ‘Big strong guys like you don’t need nuthin’. At least be honest with yourself.’
Thorne’s mouth fell open.
Jamie snorted softly. ‘Touché.’
Gwyn gave Alec a hard nod. ‘Nicely done, kid. Couldn’t have said it better myself.’
‘Yeah, well, I work with a whole company full of idiots who don’t want to need anyone. Gets old after a while.’
Thorne’s lip curled in a sneer as his eyes locked onto Gwyn’s. ‘Right. Like you want to need help? Bullshit.’
Gwyn’s chin came up. ‘We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.’
‘Hush, children.’ Alec held up a hand, once again talking into his phone. ‘I didn’t get the bike’s plate. It didn’t have one. Are you coming back? . . . Fine. I’ll stay on the line until you’re all safely inside.’ He looked up again. ‘They lost him. He cut himself a path through the woods just wide enough for a dirt bike.’
‘How long a path?’ Thorne asked.
‘Long enough to get him back to the main road. It had to have taken him a while to clear that much undergrowth. Probably worked at night. There’s no light in the back. Trees are too dense for moonlight and our floodlights only reach so far. Clay thinks it took at least three or four nights.’
‘How did he know Thorne would be here?’ Phil asked.
‘I don’t think he did, babe,’ Jamie replied. ‘He was probably planning to strike here again anyway. He already went after Stevie once today. All in broad daylight.’
‘Stevie and Clay have kids,’ Thorne said tightly. ‘Cordelia is JD’s goddaughter. If he hit here, he’d hurt a lot of my friends.’
Jamie sighed. ‘Normally I’d tell you that not everything is about you, but this time, it is.’
‘What are you going to do about your contact?’ Gwyn asked sharply. Thorne winced, and she knew he’d hoped she’d be distracted enough to forget about it. ‘No, I didn’t forget. Spill, Thorne. Now.’
‘Or what?’ he mocked.
‘Don’t,’ she said quietly. ‘Don’t shut me out. Don’t shut them out. The kid is right. You don’t want to need our help, but that’s too damn bad. Tell me.’
Thorne sighed. ‘I’m going to ask him to meet me. And you’re not coming.’
Her jaw tightened. She wanted to argue, but she knew there were those in the group who could protect him better than she could. The knowledge irked, but she shoved it away. ‘Who is?’
‘I don’t know,’ he hissed, enunciating each word. ‘I will figure it out.’
The door from the backyard opened, admitting those who’d gone after the intruder. Everyone who’d been downstairs with the kids joined them and together they reclaimed their seats. Cautiously they looked from Gwyn to Thorne, because they were still glaring daggers at each other.
‘What’d we miss?’ Clay asked.
Thirteen
Hunt Valley, Maryland,
Monday 13 June, 6.10 P.M.
Gwyn stared up at Thorne’s stony profile. ‘Tell them or I will.’
His jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth. ‘That call to Bernice Brown’s friend and the message to Julie were made from my contact’s disposable cell.’
‘Well, fuck,’ Frederick spat angrily. ‘Were you going to tell us, Thorne?’
‘Of course I was,’ he snapped. ‘I wasn’t going to tell them.’ He gestured to Gwyn and the two men who were by all rights his fathers.
Jamie huffed a sigh. Phil looked resigned. Gwyn bit her tongue, because the temper she felt bubbling was going to yield words she’d never be able to take back.