Deceived (31 page)

Once Dad started speaking, he and Nicholas had a long discussion regarding the details of my attack and what had gone on since then. They communicated in that same odd code Nicholas had used on the phone at the cottage. This time, I was more familiar with the lingo and acronyms. Mr. Austin had given Dad the framework. Now Nicholas filled in the details.

We pulled into the driveway of a large one-story home. An inviting front porch adorned an otherwise standard red-brick construction. My new home looked abandoned. I followed Dad to the door. Nicholas carried in the bags behind me. The heat was unreal, and I’d run out of layers to remove. I needed another shower.

Inside the front door, the entranceway led into the family room. The dining area and kitchen flowed together. Bedrooms were nestled on the other side of the house. Boxes lined the walls in every direction. None of them had any labels in Sharpie like I told him. Some had been torn open and stuffed shut again. I sighed. Welcome to my new home.

“Dad, how long have you been here?”

He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, most of these boxes have spent more time here than I have. I’ve been on a plane headed to Dallas from Indiana, then back to Illinois, then back to Dallas, oh, and I stopped for a day in Branson. It’s been a runaround.” He looked defeated.

“I’ll help. You guys talk, and I’ll see what I can do.”

They left together for Dad’s home office. I opened the boxes one at a time. I moved them to the appropriate rooms and unpacked them. Three hours later the men emerged. I’d ordered delivery. The aroma must’ve been enough to break their concentration.

“Holy smokes, Elle! How long were we in there?” Nicholas looked at the door to the office and back to me. I’d managed to clear the family room and dining area, as well as put out some décor. It wasn’t my first rodeo. The boxes were flattened and tied for recycling. Overall, the house looked more like a home and less like a makeshift distribution center.

I didn’t miss the contrast between Nicholas’s easy disposition and Dad’s stiff posture. I shoved my hands into my pockets and looked back at Nicholas.

“Enjoy the takeout tonight, because tomorrow I cook.” I considered them warned.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Dad, I have a list of foods, and I need to get to the grocery store,” I announced as soon as Nicholas walked into the kitchen.

He let us out of his sight after a staring contest with Nicholas. He imposed a time limit and gave us a specific store to shop at not five miles away. We were to shop and return, nothing more. Dad had never been so protective. I wondered if it was the killer or the Marshal who had him worried.

“I’m so sorry he’s freaking out,” I said in the car. “I told you this was a bad idea. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.”

“Right. Easy for you to say. Your parents welcomed me, no questions.”

“You’re comparing apples to circus people. I expected much worse than this. It’s been only the two of you for years. He’s right to be protective. What would he have without you?”

I snuck a peek at him and smiled.

“My family’s so big, what’s one more? Besides, you should’ve seen Dad when Olivia first brought Allen home. It wasn’t much better.”

“Yeah?” I didn’t care if it was true. I enjoyed the comparison. He must not have thought of me as a pound puppy. Perhaps, if things were much different, I’d be a love interest.

“Yeah.” He squeezed my hand for reassurance. “It’s not the same for girls. You’re more vulnerable.” He hitched an eyebrow and braced himself for the hit he deserved. Totally sexist remark, yes, but true anyway. I wasn’t as strong as Nicholas, and I hoped the Reaper wasn’t either.

We made it to the store in ten minutes. I could’ve run it if there wouldn’t have been so many bags to bring back. I hadn’t been able to run in two weeks. My hands shook, but not like before. Despite everything, I slept better, and in my dream, I fought back. There was comfort in not playing the sitting-duck role. I missed running, though, and I wondered what it would be like to run in the Texas heat. Running in the midwestern summer didn’t compare. The heat in Texas was different. Even in November the air was stifling, unless that was symptomatic of my state of mind.

Icy air belted us in the face as we walked through the automatic sliding doors of the store. I headed to the butcher for the main dish first. Nicholas’s phone rang before I had time to choose a small turkey for three. He stepped away to answer the call, leaving me to select a bird. It wasn’t easy. Most of them were frozen, but considering we planned to eat ours in a few hours, I had to go with fresh. The choices were daunting. A lady in a white smock tried to help me from behind a four-foot counter. I looked to Nicholas for help, but the expression on his face was blank, fathomless, as he listened. The Marine. A zing jumped through my heart at what the face might mean. I pointed at a random turkey, and the counter lady wrapped it.

I picked up the pace and headed to the checkout. Something had happened. I knew Nicholas couldn’t talk to me about it in public. I couldn’t get to the car fast enough. One hundred and twenty-two dollars later, we headed home. Nicholas hadn’t spoken since the phone rang. We loaded the car in silence, too. The minute I shut my car door, I exploded, “Who was on the phone?”

“That was the team.”

Nicholas and I spoke at the same time. He smiled at me, and my concentration failed for a minute.

“Go,” I said, pointing at him. I needed to know what he knew.

“They have a hit on the cigarette.” He smiled. I knew he thought I should be thanked for the lead. I couldn’t tell them anything other than that he smoked. Who knew that would be useful?

“Okay.”

“It’s not a match for any member of the student body, teaching staff, groundskeepers, alumni, or the guest speakers from the festival. It’s an anomaly. They were unable to make any viable connection between it and anyone who actually belonged at Francine Frances. The butt matched those they found on the ground outside your apartment building. Your tip about the mat was pure gold. The team had to sift through the bushes, but they got what they needed.”

My heart pounded and flipped in my chest. I was about to hear what I’d been waiting for.

“Elle, we’ve got him. His name is Miles Thomas Wade.”

The name rolled around in my mind, trying to sound lethal. It was disappointing on some level. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. It’s not like his parents named him “homicidal maniac.” I knew he’d have a name just like everyone else, but it didn’t fit.
Miles Thomas Wade
sounded like a spoiled rich kid, or a character in a made-for-TV movie.

“You said groundskeepers?”

“They checked anyone who might’ve been on campus for a good reason.”

“There was a guy. He wore tan overalls and approached me at the wall.” Images of the stranger came vividly to mind. “I saw him when I was decorating for the festival, too.” Could he have taken me then? I was so stupid to be alone.

“Mack Harris. He’s fine. A little pervy, according to staff, but harmless. No record. I saw him talk to you and checked him out.”

“You saw that?”

“I see everything.” The serious set of his brow worried me. Emotion flashed over his face and was buried before I could name it. “I didn’t know he was decorating.”

“He was helping clean up the mess we were making. There were a few groundskeepers there that night.”

Nicholas drove back to the house at warp speed. I barely saw him or my dad for the rest of the afternoon. When dinner was almost ready, I snuck up on them. I had a few minutes of downtime while the turkey sat, before the rolls needed to go in the oven, so I peeked in on them.

I wasn’t surprised to see my dad’s office fully set up. He was on the phone and online at the same time. Nicholas watched over Dad’s shoulder as he worked. The files lying everywhere looked a lot different to me through enlightened eyes. The whole room looked more like the Batcave than an old guy’s office. Knowing what I knew, it was hard to imagine how I hadn’t seen it for what it was sooner.

He hung up and glared at Nicholas. “We’re all set on my end.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll head home. I’ll keep her there until you call.”

“What’s going on between you and my daughter?” Dad’s tone was harsh. I stepped back farther into the hall. “Your family’s always been professional. How is it you’ve become involved with Gabriella? What’s your family have to say about this? Your dad seemed to think you’d have all the answers. Then I came to meet you at the airport and found you kissing her.”

The edge in his voice made me sweat. It was unimaginably hot in Texas.

There was a very long pause. So long, in fact, that I had to peek back to see if Nicholas had climbed out the window. The two men were having another stare-down.

“I love her, sir.”

My head swam. I’m pretty sure my heart stopped. I quit breathing.

“Excuse me?”

I peeked again.

Dad gripped his desk. “How do you expect to protect her if you’re involved like this?”

I pulled my head back, and he pounded a fist against his desk. I shuddered.

“Are you crazy or just suffering from an extremely low IQ? That’s my daughter out there.” His voice rose, and suddenly I had no idea how I had ever believed my dad was an insurance adjuster.

“My only daughter, my only family, my only reason to get up every morning, and you’re risking her life. You do realize that. You’re going to get her killed because every single minute you spend thinking about your feelings is a moment you aren’t guarding her. In case you haven’t noticed, son, she needs a protector, not a boyfriend.”

“Yes, sir.”

My heart dissolved at his agreement. Ice filled my veins. My cheeks burned.

“I know this, sir. I’ve discussed it at length with my father and grandfather. It’s a difficult position, one I know you’re well acquainted with, but I cannot reassign her because I cannot leave her.”

There was a tiny crash, like a pencil hitting the wall, and then some low murmuring.

“If you put her in danger … ” Dad’s voice choked off mid-threat.

Nicholas cut in. “I will not fail her, sir. I will not.” The conviction in his voice was so strong that he could have promised anything and I would’ve believed him.

Dad huffed and swore. I bit my lip, waiting. My heartbeat pounded in my throat.

“I love her, too.” Dad’s voice was barely a whisper.

“I know, sir.”

I held my breath during the long pause, afraid I’d miss what he said next.

“When you’re attached, everything’s more complicated. Your thoughts are divided. Your reaction time’s hindered while you weigh the added possibilities and wonder how your response will impact her. How will your attachment impact her? How do you know this isn’t your undoing? How can
I
know you’ll keep her safe?”

“Because I would give my life for hers.”

Dad sighed. His desk chair squeaked. “Don’t let her down, Austin.”

“No, sir.”

My mouth fell open. My eyes filled with tears. Nicholas noticed me looking and slipped out.

“Can I help you for a while?” He motioned toward the kitchen.

“I’m okay,” I lied, unless
okay
meant terrified and thrilled and crazy.

“Come on. I know my way around a kitchen. Let me help. Your dad won’t mind.”

I smiled because I’d heard it all firsthand. “You can go back in there, you know.”

“Uh-uh.” He waved a finger at me. “You’re my responsibility. There’s nothing I can do in there that they aren’t already doing. This sweet-potato casserole isn’t going to bake itself.”

I appreciated the company. I’d adjusted quickly to not being alone. Any excuse to be with Nicholas was a good one.

We worked on the trimmings for a while and then it was finally time. Thanksgiving in Dallas. I took a mental snapshot for later.

My dad closed his eyes for the standard Thanksgiving prayer, but it wasn’t the same. Normally, the prayer was dry and predictable.
“Thank you for the food, for the time off work to be with Gabriella, etc.”
Thanksgiving in Dallas was full of surprises.

“Father,” Dad began in a small voice. “Thank you for my daughter. Thank you for keeping her safe all of these years and for the marvelous future I know You have planned for her. I should’ve done many things differently.”

My dad wiped his face. “Thank you,” he choked, “for her precious mother and every single day I had with her.”

There was a long pause. My eyes stung with emotion.
My dad was praying, for me.

“Thank you for the Austin family. You put them in place long ago, long before I could’ve known the role they’d play today. But, You knew. Give this young man the wisdom and strength he needs to protect my little girl.” One more pause had me choking back a decade of tears. “For today, bless this food and the hands that prepared it. Amen.”

That prayer contained more emotion than I’d heard from my father in years. Being so guarded and feeling so guilty must’ve been difficult for him. Maybe guarded and guilty was another level we could connect on. I dabbed my napkin at my eyes and looked to see what effect the words had had on Nicholas.

Nicholas only winked at me and added a hearty, “Amen.”

They must’ve agreed to separate the case from Thanksgiving because no one mentioned the Reaper. He didn’t belong at our dinner table. Everything I needed sat in front of me. After dinner, Dad helped with the dishes.

“Well,” I said. “Spill.”

Dad looked at Nicholas first and then me. Dinner was over. Time to get down to business.

“They’ve linked him to the Wade family in Grosse Pointe, Michigan.”

They told me this was an affluent community in the Snow Belt.

Using his name, Nicholas’s team found the house near Francine Frances where Miles Thomas Wade had stayed. They couldn’t find any evidence to suggest he remained. To the contrary, they were certain he’d gone. They just didn’t know where. They guessed Miles had left abruptly because the apartment was in disarray. According to Jim, he had an ashtray full of cigarette butts to match the one found on the school grounds, and his fingerprints were everywhere.