Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Trail of Evidence\Gone Missing\Lethal Exposure (12 page)

FIFTEEN

B
rooke let Mercy into the house after a short run around the block. Her mind spun in an endless loop, replaying the “almost kiss” over and over until she wanted to bury her face in her pillow and scream. Why had he done that? What had he seen in her expression to indicate she wanted him to kiss her?

She nearly laughed out loud at that last silent question. She knew exactly what he'd seen. She might as well have stamped
Kiss Me
written across her forehead.

She groaned and dropped onto the couch. It was going to be a long night. She should have volunteered for Jonas's guard duty. At least that would have given her something to do besides stare at her walls and wish she'd grabbed Jonas and given him the kiss of his lifetime. But she hadn't done that.

And frankly, she was glad she hadn't. Sort of. She understood the guilt that he'd been feeling. His son was out there, angry, upset—and a target. He couldn't be having a romantic moment while that was happening. She got that. Not only that, but she kept pushing him away. Only tonight they'd almost kissed. Well, they had kissed. A light kiss that could have been so much more.

She rubbed her eyes. How confused he must be with her words and actions contradicting each other. She sighed. She wasn't doing it on purpose, she was just as conflicted with herself as he probably was.

Her gaze fell on her grandmother's Bible. It sat in its usual spot in the center of the coffee table. Her grandparents had loved her. Had raised her to love God and to seek His will for her life. But every time the subject of her and marriage and children came up, bitterness accompanied it. Since she didn't want to be bitter, she often just refused to think about it.

But now she had to.

She'd told Jonas why she'd pushed him away almost eight years ago and he'd been angry. Hurt. Betrayed. Had she been wrong to keep that to herself and not explain her actions?

Definitely.

She picked up the Bible and let it fall open. Her grandmother's handwriting jumped out at her. Right before Brooke's grandparents had moved to Florida to retire, her grandmother had placed the Bible in Brooke's hands just before they'd pulled away from the closing at the lawyer's office. “Read it, Brooke. Let God be your comfort.”

Be my comfort, God. Show me how to lean on You and not be bitter.

She closed the Bible, stood and walked to the window to glance into the yard. Mercy went to the door and whined. Brooke let her out and stepped onto the back porch steps to watch the animal roam the yard, sniffing, tail wagging. She snagged something from the bushes and trotted to drop the neighbor kid's baseball at her feet. “Thanks, Mercy. I think I've created a monster.” She picked it up and made a note to return it. One day, one was going to go through her window.

Her phone buzzed. She snagged it and found a text from Gavin.
This is what Tommy and the sketch artist came up with.

Brooke zoomed in on the computerized composite and gave a disappointed sigh. She texted back.
It could be Jeffries or not.

I know. It's inconclusive. I spoke with Tommy myself. He still says he never left the home that night.

Still afraid he'll be in trouble if he says it.

Yes. So right now we have nothing on Jeffries.

She was sure he was relieved over that. Brooke still wasn't convinced Jeffries was innocent.
Great. Thanks.

Welcome.

She shoved the phone into her back pocket. “Come on, Mercy, we'd better get some sleep while we can. No telling when the phone will ring again.”

Mercy started to trot back toward Brooke, then turned and froze, her attention suddenly focused on the area behind her.

The night air seemed to quiver, then go still. Brooke frowned and rose, rubbing her arms against the chill that was only partially due to the weather. “What is it, girl?”

Mercy glanced back at Brooke then started toward the back of the fence. A low growl escaped her and Brooke's adrenaline kicked into high gear. She reached for her weapon.

The one that wasn't there.

She'd left it on the end table next to the recliner. “Mercy. Come!”

The dog immediately stopped, but kept her focus on whatever had captured her attention. She whined and Brooke knew the dog wanted to obey, but also wanted to go after whatever was near the fence. “Mercy. Come.”

Mercy barked, but obeyed. She came to Brooke's side and sat, her entire body tense. Brooke looked toward the bushes and the trees that lined the other side of her fence. For the first time she worried that someone could climb one of the trees and drop into her backyard. “Come on, girl, I'm not liking this. Inside. Now.”

Brooke forced the dog through the door, followed her inside and went to retrieve her weapon from the end table. She then spun on her heel and went back out the door, shutting the dog inside. Mercy barked at her, but Brooke wanted to know what was bothering the animal so much. And she wanted to make sure nothing happened to the dog. If someone had a weapon, they'd go for Mercy first, most likely, take her out of the picture. And since Mercy didn't have her vest on, Brooke wouldn't take the chance.

She walked through her backyard to where the waist-high bushes met the back of the fence. “Is anyone there? Hello?” The tree rustled above her and she swung the weapon up. “Come down. Now.”

A dark-clad figure slipped from the tree, landed on the other side of the wooden fence and ran.

Mercy's barking reached a frenzied pitch from inside the house.

Brooke raced for the gate, threw open the latch and headed in the direction she thought her would-be intruder might have gone. Her shoulders itched. She didn't have her vest on but knew if she took the time to get it the guy would be long gone.

She exited onto the street and came to a stop. From the trees in her backyard, the only direction to go was over the neighbor's fence directly opposite hers or through the small area of woods onto the main street.

She figured he'd go for the street.

Only she didn't see him anywhere. The faint sound of a car starting straight ahead spurred her on. Her tennis shoes pounded the asphalt. Taillights blinked ahead and she stopped, knowing it was a futile chase. With a frustrated slap of her fist against her thigh, she turned and made her way back to her house. She moved back through the trees, walked through her gate and opened her back door. “Mercy, come.” The dog didn't need to be told twice. Brooke swept her hand out toward the backyard. “Search.” Thirty minutes later, Mercy had come up empty and Brooke was exhausted. She led the way back into the house and called Gavin. “I just had an intruder at my house. Mercy let me know he was there in a tree just over my fence line. When I confronted him, he ran. I tried to chase him down, but I lost him.”

“What? You went after him without calling for backup?”

“I didn't have time.”

“That wasn't a smart move, Brooke.”

She sighed. “What would you have done in my place, Gavin?”

He cleared his throat and didn't speak for a moment. “I'm glad you're all right. Lock your doors and I'll let the local PD know they need to do some frequent drive-bys at your place tonight.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“You sound tired.”

She gave a small laugh. “There's a reason for that. I'm going to bed. See you in the morning.”

She hung up with Gavin and walked into her bedroom with Mercy at her heels. “'Night, Mercy. Wake me up if anyone tries anything, will you?”

Mercy settled herself at the end of the bed. Brooke crawled beneath the covers and closed her eyes.

Then opened them. Then got up and locked her bedroom door.

* * *

Jonas couldn't sleep and it had nothing to do with the fans sounding like freight trains blowing though his home. Frustration nipped at him. He knew he needed to get some rest, but knowing that and shutting off his mind were two very different things. Hence his vigilance at the front window of his house. He'd left the porch light on in the front and turned on the back lights in case Felix wanted to come in that way. The officer was on the curb. Every so often, he'd get out of his car and do a perimeter scan.

Under police escort, Claire had gone back to the office to take care of the animals. The officer had seen her safely home so at least he didn't have to worry about her or work tonight.

He just had to worry about Felix.

Be anxious for nothing.

The verse ran through his mind. “How do I do that, God? This is Felix we're talking about,” he murmured. “Please take care of him, wherever he is.”

He wouldn't blame God for not listening, but Jonas figured Brooke was right and God wouldn't hold his absenteeism against him. “Thank You for that,” he whispered. But it was time to change that and put God back where He belonged. As a priority. No matter what happened with Felix.

He took another look out the living room window and noticed the police cruiser sitting empty. A shadow disappeared around the corner of the house and he figured the officer was doing another safety check. Jonas had to admit the man was thorough, attentive and alert. Jonas appreciated that.

He glanced at his phone.
Call me, Felix. At least let me know you're all right.
For the first time since his wife had walked out, Jonas felt like letting a few tears flow. He wondered if that made him weak.

Then he wished Brooke were there with him. She wouldn't find him weak; she'd probably offer him her shoulder. He blew out a sigh and shook his head. This was getting him nowhere, but he just couldn't get away from the anxiety clawing at his throat.

He turned away from the window, then stopped and looked back at the police car. The officer hadn't returned yet. Jonas frowned. He'd been watching, hoping to catch Felix walking up the street and as a result, he'd seen the officer come and go over the past two hours.

In all of his patrols around the perimeter of the house, it hadn't taken him this long to return to his car. Uneasiness started to build. Jonas wanted to chalk it up to paranoia, but the events over the past two days wouldn't let him. Had the officer run into trouble? Found something? He picked up his phone and dialed Brooke as he went through the house turning off the loud fans.

“Hello?”

The fact that she answered on the first ring said a lot about her own state of sleeplessness. “Hey, do you have the number for the officer outside my house?”

“No. Why?”

“I've been watching him for the past couple of hours. Well, watching for Felix, but noticing the officer making his rounds around my property. He walked away from his car about ten minutes ago and hasn't come back yet. He's never taken this long.”

“Sit tight. I'm on the way.”

“What? Why?”

“I'm concerned. I had an intruder—I think. A would-be one anyway. It's possible he went straight from my house to yours. Make sure the doors are locked. I'm on my way and sending backup.”

“I don't know if that's necess—” He stopped. A low creak from the front of the house reached his ears. “Wait a minute.”

“What is it?” He heard rustling in the background like she was moving, getting ready to leave her house.

“I think someone's in my house,” he whispered.

“Get out.”

“It could be Felix trying to sneak in.” Hope flared. Caution ruled. He wouldn't call out until he knew for sure. He slipped his feet into the loafers he'd left in front of the recliner, then moved to the foot of the stairs. The noise had come from the front of the house, maybe the stairs. Could Felix have crawled through a window? Not likely. Jonas had double-checked them and they'd been locked.

“Jonas? You need to get out of the house until you know for sure who it is.”

“What if that's the purpose? Get me out of the house then kill me?” He lowered his voice and looked out at the squad car one more time. Still no sign of the officer. Should he leave? He could make it to the front door. Or should he hide? The feeling of having lived this once before swept over him.

“Good point,” Brooke said. “What if you got in your car? Lock the doors and hunker down until help gets there?”

The idea didn't sit well with Jonas. He wanted to confront whoever had the audacity to break into his house with a police car sitting right outside. Then he thought about Felix. What would happen to Felix if Jonas did something stupid and got himself killed?

He went to the back door and looked out into the garage. The moon filtered through the windows and he could make out the shape of his car. He heard Brooke talking in the background. Probably calling for help.

Making up his mind, he opened the door and stepped into the darkness of the garage. He shut the door behind him and glanced back into his kitchen through the glass paned door. Nothing yet.

“Are you there, Jonas?” Brooke asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered. He heard the worry in her voice. Where were his keys? In his pants pocket hanging over the chair in his bedroom. He changed into sweats when he'd gotten home.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting out.” Standing in his kitchen with his phone pressed to his ear, Jonas saw the shadow of a man, his weapon raised.

“Help's on the way. The officer isn't answering his phone.”

Jonas paused only for a second before deciding against hiding in the car. He pressed the garage door and flinched at the low rumble. Would the guy in the kitchen notice? He moved to duck under the door and felt something slam into his back. The concrete rushed up and he threw out an arm to break his fall.

Pain shot up from his wrist to his elbow. He lost a few layers of skin, but figured that was the least of his problems as he rolled to his back only to stare up at the man standing over him, gun trained on his face.

SIXTEEN

B
rooke raced through the streets as fast as she dared, siren blaring, lights flashing. Mercy sat in her area in the back, but Brooke could feel the animal's tension reflected in her own. The dog knew something was up and was ready to work.

“Jonas? Are you there? Jonas?” Silence answered her. But he hadn't hung up. “Jonas?”

“Where's the kid?”

Brooke jerked the phone from her ear then shoved it back. “I don't know where he is. We're all looking for him.”

“I said where is the kid! Answer me or I'll blow your head off!”

Brooke realized the person wasn't talking to her. He was talking to Jonas and he had a gun on him. Chills swept through her and she pressed the gas a little harder.

“He's missing. He left last night. We're all looking for him.” Jonas spoke, his voice low, a thread of steel-laced anger vibrating through the line.

“You're a liar.”

“I'm not!” Brooke heard the snarl and prayed he wouldn't do something stupid like attack the guy with the gun. “He got scared and took off. No one knows where he is.”

She turned on the road that would lead her to Jonas's house. “Hang on, Jonas.”

Through her handset, she heard sirens.

“Let's get out of here!” Another voice.

“What do we do with him?”

“Shoot him.”

A gunshot cracked through the line. She flinched and her terror level shot up. There were two of them. And one of them had shot Jonas. “Jonas! No, no no. Please no.” A thud and a grunt came through the line. She heard scuffling and running footsteps. “Jonas!”
Oh please, God, don't let him be dead.
She turned the next corner and screeched to a halt in front of Jonas's house. She bolted from the vehicle to find Jonas on the ground, officers chasing two fleeing suspects. Mercy hopped to the ground, her nose working the area around her.

Brooke wanted to take Mercy and follow the officers in pursuit, but her first concern was Jonas. She dropped to her knees beside him and started patting his chest, his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you shot? You're bleeding!”

He grabbed her hands and sat up. “I'm fine.” He glanced at his arm. “That's nothing.”

“I heard a gunshot.”

“Yeah, but he didn't shoot me.” He stood and winced, clasping his injured arm. “One of the officers shot at the guy who had the gun on me. It stopped him long enough so I was able to knock the weapon away from him.”

“Did the officer hit him?”

“I don't know.”

She nodded to his arm. “You're bleeding,” she said again.

“I'm getting used to it.” He grunted. “When I came out of the garage, one of them knocked me to the ground. I broke my fall with my arm.”

“Is your arm broken?”

“No, just scraped and painful.”

She noticed two of the officers who'd been chasing the intruders returning. Their frowns didn't tell a happy ending to the pursuit. She led Jonas over to them. “They got away?” she asked.

“Yeah,” the larger officer said. “They had a car waiting. No license plate, but I've got a BOLO for the vehicle. It's a gray Ford Taurus, paint scraped off the right rear bumper.”

“How's the officer who was watching the house?” Jonas asked. “I never saw him come back to his car.”

“We found him around back. He's out cold. They hit him hard. Ambulance is on the way.”

She winced and nodded, then glanced down the street to the right. Then the left. She looked at Jonas. “I think you might be getting to know your neighbors before too long.”

He followed her gaze. “At least they don't hide away and ignore trouble in the neighborhood.” He shook his head. “They'll probably blackball me from the home owners association.”

“Or charge you double dues.”

He gave her a tight smile, neither one of them really interested in finding humor in the situation right now. She cupped his chin. “Are you really all right? When I heard that gunshot—” She bit her lip and fought the surge of emotion.

“I'm really all right.” He pulled her into a loose hug with his good arm and she pressed her forehead into his chest. She relished the feeling of being in his arms even as she told herself to pull away. He was a case, his son was missing and she had to keep herself at a distance in order to stay objective.

Right.

She looked up to find Nicholas eyeing her with a raised brow. Thankfully he didn't say anything and didn't even give her a funny look.

He did appear concerned. She slipped away from Jonas and put some distance between them so she could think. She gestured to Jonas's arm. “You might need to have that checked.”

“By a real doctor?” His lips quirked in a side smile. “Like I did the bullet graze?”

“Touché.” She nodded to the house. “Let's get you back inside. I don't think those guys are coming back, but why take chances?”

They made their way back into the house via the front door. Jonas led the way to the den, flipping lights on as he went. The tension in his shoulders was noticeable. Chase and Valor followed behind.

Nicholas looked at Chase. “I think you should stay here. Inside.”

Chase nodded. “I was thinking one of us should.”

“Brooke's going with me in the morning—” he glanced at his watch “—in a few hours to talk to Congressman Jeffries.”

“Then I'll stay,” Chase said.

Brooke hesitated.
She
wanted to stay. To make sure that Jonas was all right and that no one tried to break in again. She glanced at Chase. A small smile played around the corners of his mouth and Brooke straightened her spine. “Fine. Sounds good to me.”

She told Mercy to heel and headed out the door, knowing no one bought her nonchalance. She was terrified for Jonas and Felix and knew the others were too. Because as much as she might want to deny it, the old feelings from years past weren't so old anymore. They were new and exciting and frightening. And if she didn't find out who was targeting Jonas and Felix, she might be attending funerals, instead of the wedding that kept jumping to the forefront of her mind.

* * *

Jonas watched Nicholas and Brooke drive away. He turned to find Chase watching him. Chase's dog, Valor, sat at his side. The Belgian Malinois yawned and settled his big head on his paws. “Sorry you got babysitting duty,” Jonas said. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“I'm a former Secret Service agent. I'm used to it.” The man was young, in his midtwenties and tall. His green eyes held life—and a wisdom that came beyond his years. Jonas had a feeling Chase had quite a few stories to tell. “And I don't mind. It's different from what I'm usually doing so the change of pace is nice.”

“You said former. Why get out of the Secret Service?”

Chase shrugged. “Search and rescue is my passion. I liked my time in the Secret Service, but when I was offered this position, I jumped at it. This is where I belong.”

Jonas nodded, his mind on his son. It helped having someone there to talk with, but he couldn't stop wondering if Felix was safe. For the first time, Jonas regretted not getting Felix a phone.

“Are you sure you want to stay here tonight?” Chase asked.

“Yes, Felix may come back home.” He looked around. “The worst of the damage was in here. The kitchen and bedrooms are fine now that the smoke is gone. However, I do need to run back to the office and take care of the animals that are there.”

“I'll take you.”

Jonas nodded. “All right.” He looked around the house, the stark emptiness of it slashing his heart. What would he do if Felix never came home? He pulled in a shuddering breath and ordered his mind not to go there. Felix would come home. He had to.

“Someone will find him, Jonas.”

He looked into Chase's kind eyes. “Yeah, but will it be the good guys or the bad guys?”

* * *

The sun was high overhead when Brooke and Nicholas pulled up to the congressman's front door the next morning. Brooke was breathing a bit easier after the rest of the night passed with no more attempts on Jonas.

The large mansion should have been overbearing and monstrous. And while it was big, it was more classy than ostentatious. At least in Brooke's opinion. That fact probably had to do with the good taste of the congressman's landscaper.

She and Nicholas walked up to the front door, leaving the animals in the well-ventilated vehicle.

Before she could ring the bell, the door opened.

Congressman Jeffries looked impeccable. His gray hair lay slicked back, not a strand daring to be out of place. His blue eyes remained shuttered and his lips didn't curve into a smile. “Come in.” He stepped back and Brooke moved inside. Nicholas stayed on her flank and shut the door behind him. “Thank you for seeing us.”

“I apologize for all the delays, but they couldn't be helped. I appreciate your understanding.” Instead of going into the reasons for those delays, he simply clasped his hands in front of him. “You said you had a few more questions and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to find Michael's killer. You know that.”

“Of course, sir.”

Congressman Jeffries led them into a formal living area and toward two navy wing-back chairs. “Make yourself comfortable.” They did. Jeffries stood near the fireplace and leaned against the massive mantel. “Now, before you start in on your questions, tell me this, has there been any progress on locating my son's killer?”

Brooke shot a look at Nicholas. “No, sir, not much. We do have some things we're working on, but there's no point in talking about them until we see if they're going to pan out.”

He frowned, but didn't push the matter. “What kinds of things?”

Brooke pursed her lips and exchanged a glance with Nicholas. He gave a short nod. “Things like a phone that's linked to Rosa Gomez, your late housekeeper.”

“What's so important about that?”

“There's a picture on the phone of a man on the cliffs where she died. The picture was taken the day she died so we're looking for him to bring him in and question him.” She could give that much information. The man's face was all over the news so the congressman probably already knew that much.

He snorted and waved a hand. “You're right, you don't have much. What other questions do you have for me then?”

“As you know, we've been looking into everything we possibly can to figure out who would have something against you.”

“Yes.”

“It seems you and Thorn Industries have a rather close relationship,” Nicholas said. He kept his tone mild, but Brooke heard the thread of steel beneath the words.

“What are you implying?” Jeffries asked, eyes flashing.

Brooke opened her mouth, but Nicholas beat her to it. “I'm not implying anything. I'm simply curious about the two bills you introduced that were subsequently passed.”

Jeffries's lips tightened.

Brooke picked up when the man didn't speak. “We found it very interesting that those bills allowed Thorn Industries to keep manufacturing a drug with dangerous side effects. And of course that puts more money in your pocket.”

“How dare you?” The congressman took a step toward Nicholas, fists clenched at his side, face red.

Nicholas tensed, but Brooke simply watched the man, then said, “We dare because these are facts, sir. Did Michael find out what you were doing? What you were supporting? Did Michael threaten to expose you? Did you get so desperate to keep your secrets that you had to kill your own son?”

Congressman Jeffries gaped at her. Even Nicholas looked a bit stunned at her lack of finesse. But Brooke did it for a reason. She waited for Jeffries's reaction.

And wasn't disappointed.

His red face turned purple. “Unbelievable. My son is dead! Whoever shot him shot me, too. And you dare come into my home and accuse me of killing Michael? Get out. Both of you!”

Nicholas shifted. Brooke met the man's eyes. “Not until you tell us about Thorn Industries. We can keep digging, of course, but if you'll just tell us what we need to know then that'll make things move along a little faster. Which is what you want, right?”

His nostrils flared and the color in his face stayed high, but he gave a short nod. It took him a moment to get his breathing under control. He finally drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, hard chips of ice stared at her. “Fine. Thorn Industries tried to bribe me in passing the bill. I would never do that. I wouldn't jeopardize my career, my livelihood or my reputation. That would be political suicide.”

“Yes, sir, that's true.”

“So I told them no. I refused.” He gave a halfhearted laugh. “I play by the rules and get accused of murder.” The hardness melted. Tears filled his eyes, his shoulders slumped and he dropped to the couch to lower his head to his hands. Sobs shook his shoulders.

Brooke swallowed. Had she gone too far? She raised an eyebrow at Nicholas and he shrugged.

“Sir?” Brooke asked.

He hiccupped and pulled a tissue from the box on the end table. He wiped his face. “I'm sorry. So sorry. But I just miss Michael so much. And your questions...”

Brooke cleared her throat. “Yes, well, I apologize. Sometimes my tongue gets ahead of my brain.”

The man nodded. “I miss my son,” he whispered.

“Of course you do. I'm sorry for the hard questions. We're just trying to find who did this.”

He sniffled and grabbed another handful of tissues. “I know. I know. Michael was a good man. He was a bit of a do-gooder crusader, you know. Nothing set him off like finding out someone was corrupt in the government.” He looked up. “That was his big thing. He fought against government corruption.” He sighed. “And he didn't care who he made mad. He took on anyone he thought needed taking down or exposed. Anyone.” He blew his nose and wiped his eyes. His gaze jumped from Nicholas's to Brooke's. “And because of that, he was killed. No, I don't have proof, but I don't need it. I just know it.”