Silent Pursuit (10 page)

T
en minutes later, they were in the car and on the way across town to Gina's duplex. Located on the ground floor, it shared a wall with the house next door. There were two units per building.

Ian pulled into her parking spot as per her directions and shut off the car. “Stay here while I check it out, okay?”

“You think someone might be watching?”

“I don't know. I didn't see anyone on the way over here. I circled the block twice, but that doesn't mean someone isn't keeping an eye out in case you come back.”

Gina shivered. “Great.” She handed him the key and stayed in the car while he went inside. The fact that he simply pushed the door open instead of using the key didn't bode well for what she was going to find inside. She'd left so fast two weeks ago she hadn't even called the police, although the crime-scene tape across her door indicated her neighbor or someone else had. No wonder Joseph had been so worried. The police had no doubt contacted her family to ask if they'd seen her.

Guilt stabbed her. She should have called them sooner than she had.

Ian waved to her from the door. She could come in.

The grave look on his face added to the dread already churning in her gut. She got out of the car and met him on the small front porch. “How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad.”

“Irreparable?”

“No, probably not. Do you rent or own it?”

“Own. I'm a Realtor, remember? Renting is like a sin,” she teased, although there was no lightness in the act and the smile slid off her face almost before it had a chance to form.

“Right. Then the police probably did their thing and left. No landlord to worry about. Although, I would have thought they'd have locked the door behind them.”

Gina slapped a hand against her mouth and muttered around her fingers. “My poor family.”

“Joseph took care of all that, right?”

“Yes, he just sounded so frantic when I called him from Nicholas's house.”

“Of course he was crazy with panic. You're his baby sister. If it had been Carly…” He didn't bother to finish and merely shook his head.

Anger at Mario shot through her and she fisted her fingers. “Boy, I wish Mario was alive so I could give him a piece of my mind.” Then guilt hit her and she bit her lip. “Of course, if he were alive, we wouldn't be in this predicament.”

Sympathy coated Ian's features. “Are you ready to come in?”

She scuffed a toe against the sidewalk and looked up at him. “I guess I've delayed it long enough, huh?”

“Yeah. Sorry, it's pretty ugly.”

Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and stepped inside. Ian placed a hand on her lower back and guided her forward. The first shiver that zipped up her spine had nothing
to do with the destruction before her and everything to do with the man beside her. The second one shook her entire being. Pictures had been slammed to the floor. Tables, chairs, lamps were overturned. Couch cushions slashed, the insides leaving a trail of white stuffing all over the floor.

“I can see now why Joseph was so frantic,” she muttered. “When he saw this, he must have freaked.”

“Freaking is putting it mildly,” a voice behind her said.

Gina whirled to see her brother standing in the doorway. He sauntered in, his relaxed posture a direct contrast to the rage simmering in his eyes. “Thought I'd see if you guys needed any help.” He waved a hand toward the devastation. “I was going to call in someone to come clean it all up, but the police didn't want to release the scene quite yet. They were still working on some stuff and thought they might come back here. And I didn't want to mess anything up if there was a clue to your whereabouts.”

His didn't say the words outright, but she could see he'd been terribly worried about her. “Thanks, Joseph. I'm going to be fine as soon as we catch whoever's after us. And I'm really sorry I didn't call sooner.”

“I know.” Hands in his pockets, he came farther in and shot a glance at Ian. “Anyway, after you left the house, I got to thinking you might need some backup.”

“Catelyn sent you.” Gina gave him a small smile.

One side of his mouth tipped up in a half smile. “Yeah, but I was thinking it anyway. Even though I'd already informed the captain you were all right, I called him on the way over here, and he said since you'd turned up, he wouldn't hold the scene anymore. You can do whatever you need to now. So—” he rubbed his hands together because it was chilly in her place “—what's first?”

“My laptop. Maybe Mario left something on there. He knew my password.”

Ian's lips slid into a wry grin. “If he wanted to put something on your laptop, he wouldn't need your password.”

Gina gave a self-conscious laugh. “I guess not.”

With the guys on her heels, she walked into her bedroom—and gave a shriek when she saw the devastation. Black fingerprint dust coated every surface. Her pillows had been slashed, drawers pulled out and thrown across the room. Her vanity mirror was shattered…and her poor laptop—it lay broken in two pieces: the screen was on her bed and the bottom part that held the keyboard clung precariously to the edge of her nightstand.

Stuffing down her growing anger, she grabbed the keyboard, flipped it over and looked at the bottom. “They took the hard drive.”

Ian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You know, that's just stupid. It took some work to get that hard drive out of there. Why wouldn't they just take the whole thing? Why risk being caught?”

Joseph's eyes narrowed. “I don't like this.”

Gina paced. “You think it means something?”

“Yeah.” Ian nodded, mouth tight in a grim line. “I think it means they did all this destruction as a message. It's overkill, unnecessary.”

“So, what's the message?”

He gestured to the gaping hole in the keyboard where her hard drive had once been. “They want you terrified. So scared you can't think straight.”

“I'd say they're on the road to success there,” she muttered.

“This stuff is too deliberate.” He walked over to her chest
of drawers and leaned down to pick up an empty picture frame with shattered glass. “What was in here?”

She gasped and felt the color drain from her face as she bolted to his side to snatch it from his hands as though she needed to confirm the frame was empty. Joseph grabbed her elbow. “What is it, Gina?”

“Why would they steal a picture of me holding Marianna and Ethan's baby? It was from the day he was born. We were all at the hospital and taking turns holding him.” She looked up at Joseph. “You took that picture.”

Ian and Joseph exchanged a glance, and Joseph immediately pulled his phone from his pocket. Nausea made her weak, the fear spinning through her veins set off uncontrollable trembles. “They'd hurt a baby?” she whispered.

Ian closed his eyes and shook his head before answering. “Yes, unfortunately, they would—if they thought it would advance their cause or force you into helping them find what they're looking for.” He caught her before she fell. “Come on.”

Leading her back into the den, he lowered her to the couch, doing his best to soothe her fear. “Sit here and catch your breath. Joseph's on the phone with Ethan right now. They'll have an entire police force of protection surrounding them. They'll be fine.”

She appreciated his efforts, but the words bounced off her brain; they couldn't seem to soak in.
Please, dear Lord, protect them.
Gathering her strength took everything she had in her, but she straightened her spine and comforted herself with the knowledge that Ian was right. Ethan had a whole slew of friends who would watch out for baby Stefano and Marianna. Now it was up to her to help stop whoever was making these threats against her family—and trying to kill her. “We have to find them, Ian. We have to keep them
from…” She stopped and drew in a deep breath. “Mario's stuff. Let's go through it and see what we find.”

His eyes sharpened. “You don't think the people that searched this place found it?”

She shrugged and stood on shaky knees that were only slightly more steady than when she realized that picture was missing and what it might mean. “I don't know, but I wouldn't think so. I have everything packed away in a chest that's outside in my storm cellar.”

Hope brightened his eyes. “Storm cellar?”

“Sure, it came with the place. Come on. The key is in here. At least it was.” She pushed open the door leading into her kitchen—and gasped as she took in the sight of more destruction. Her refrigerator had been pulled away from the wall and thrown to the floor. It lay on its side, door open, its meager contents strewn about. This, on top of the computer, stopped her cold. More nausea churned within her for a moment and she just stood there, staring at the appliance, getting herself under control once again.

Warm hands settled on her shoulders and pulled her around into a gentle hug. “You can do this, Gina. You're safe and your family is safe.”

“They wrecked my home,” was all she could think to say. And it wasn't the material things she was so shattered about—it was the invasion of privacy, the stripping away of her security. It was her escape from the world…. Or it had been.

“We'll put it back together. You'll see. We'll do a little cleaning, a little dusting.” He paused. “Some new furniture and a nice Christmas tree right there in the corner by the window. It'll be perfect again.”

“Ian's right,” Joseph said, stepping into the room. “I wanted to clean up the mess, but, like I said, didn't want to
go messing with anything until the scene was cleared. Fortunately, you didn't have much in there to spoil so the place doesn't stink. If you guys want to head down to the cellar, I'll start cleaning this up.”

Gina pulled her head from the comfort of Ian's chest, turned and searched the dark eyes that looked just like hers. “Did you warn Ethan?”

“I did. He's taking care of things on his end. Let's take care of things on ours.”

Ian gave her one last squeeze, and Joseph's speculative gaze made her blush. She pulled away from Ian's arms. Arms she could get used to having around her. Grateful for his support, she took strength from the fact that she wasn't in this alone. Moving to the last drawer on the right-hand side of her dishwasher, she opened it.

It looked untouched. Had her untimely arrival interrupted the search before they'd gotten to it? Probably.

Gina reached in and pulled out the key to the cellar and led the way outside. It smelled like snow, but she wouldn't hold her breath. It rarely snowed in this area, although it did get very cold. She shivered as she made her way over to the edge of the fence that lined her small backyard.

“It doesn't look disturbed.”

“They probably didn't even think to look out here,” Ian murmured. “I wouldn't have.”

She leaned down and inserted the key into the lock. It opened easily, and Ian pulled open the door for her.

A damp, musty smell greeted her, and she wrinkled her nose as she flipped the light switch at the top of the stairs. A single bulb illuminated the area as she started down.

At the bottom she took in a deep breath. “Okay, there's the trunk right over there.” She pointed to a far corner and
made her way over to it. “It was his grandmother's cedar chest.” Memories assaulted her, and she stopped to pull in a fortifying breath.

Ian asked, “Do you want me to open it?”

“No,” she murmured, “I'll do it. I just haven't looked in there since I packed it up.” Six months ago, she'd lovingly placed each and every item into the trunk, saying goodbye to Mario with a finality that stabbed her heart like a knife. The worst part of his death, other than creating a hole in her life, was that she didn't know where he was. Heaven or hell? The uncertainty nagged her spirit, bringing a deep sadness to the depths of her soul whenever she thought about it. Not that she hadn't talked to him about faith and her love for the Lord. She'd tried her best not to be preachy or pushy but to lovingly guide him back to the God his grandmother had raised him to know.

She knelt before the chest and opened it.

Everything lay untouched, a lifetime reduced to a few items in a box. Pushing morbid thoughts away, Gina reached in and started pulling things out. Mario's favorite shirt. The CD he loved to listen to in his car. A picture of the two of them sitting on the beach, taken by a man who'd been out for an early morning jog.

And the hard drive that she'd forgotten about. It rolled to the floor with a thump.

“What's that?” Ian asked as he knelt beside her.

“Mario's old hard drive. He told me to bury it should anything ever happen to him. I was in such a hurry to pack up his house on the base that I just tossed it in here and forgot about it.”

Ian took it from her fingers. “Mac brought me a laptop, but not the stuff I need to access this.”