The little man behind the chained door quaked as Jeremy took a menacing step toward him. “Are you Mick Gordon?”
“Shh.” He brought a shaking finger to his lips, his eyes bright. “What do you want?”
“Tell me what you know about Kit Sloan.”
Already gray features turned white, and Mick’s trembling hand on the door rattled the security chain. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
Nate had warned Jeremy that Gordon wasn’t the sharpest, but he had good information. As a career petty criminal, he managed to have his nose in just enough of everyone’s business to be both useful and a threat. But Nate had assured him that Gordon would cooperate with an intimidating presence.
“You told my partner that something you said got Kit killed. Tell me what it was.”
“I never talked to your partner.”
Jeremy’s eyes turned to slits. “On the phone, three days ago. You were quite rude and hung up on us.”
Gordon’s shoulders twitched as he shook his head. “It—it wasn’t me. I—I never talked to her.”
Jeremy leaned his shoulder into the door. “I never said my partner is a woman.” Gordon tried to slam the rotting wood that had probably been new when the apartment was built thirty years before, but it didn’t budge against Jeremy’s foot wedged at the base. “I want answers, and I want them now.”
The smaller man chewed on a fingernail, cowering back from the door. It wouldn’t take much force to pop the chain and push the door open, but Jeremy hoped the informant would make good on his role and start talking once he realized Jeremy meant business.
Finally, Gordon sagged into the wall, his face crumpling. “I never meant for her to get hurt. But she called and asked. And I didn’t know—I didn’t think that something like this would happen.” He sniffled loudly.
Jeremy rested his fist a foot from Gordon’s face, the muscles in his jaw working overtime. “Tell me exactly what you told her.”
“I told her that I used to work for this guy, delivering packages and stuff. I didn’t know what was in them, but it was good money.”
“Drugs?”
He shrugged. “Like I said, I didn’t know what was in them. I didn’t want to know. She wanted to know if I’d recognize anyone I dropped off for. She showed me a couple pictures and I didn’t know them.”
“Get to the point,” Jeremy growled. He didn’t have time to waste. Not when Heather was anywhere but next to him, probably putting herself in harm’s way.
“She showed me one. A picture. Of her and this guy. And I knew the guy. He was the one who hired me. He paid good.”
“Kit was in the picture with the guy?”
“Yes.”
Jeremy thought his head might explode from the pressure caused by waiting on the guy to just spill the information. When it became apparent he wasn’t going to say more, Jeremy prompted him. “And? Do you remember his name? Or Kit’s reaction?”
“She…she looked sad at first. Then mad.”
Jeremy pressed his palm against his forehead. “What was his name?”
“Clay.”
“Clay Kramer?” All the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place in an instant. This was why Kit’s notes had been so cryptic, why she’d tried to hide what she was investigating—she’d figured out that her own fiancé was running a drug ring. That’s what the “F” had stood for—fiancé.
Jeremy spun around before Gordon had even finished nodding his head, his stomach dropping to the bottom of his shoes. Sailing across the lawn to his car, he ignored everything but the need to get to Heather.
She wouldn’t know to be on her guard against Clay. She would just be happy to see him and a cinch to disarm.
She would be an easy mark for her sister’s fiancé.
If he didn’t get to her first.
He peeled out of the parking lot before the car door even closed behind him.
Snatching the phone from his pocket, he pressed a single button to reach Heather, but her cell went straight to voice mail.
“Heather, it’s Clay! He’s the one! He’s behind everything! Call me back as soon as you get this! Let me know that you’re all right.” As soon as he hung up, the phone vibrated, indicating an incoming call. “Heather?”
“Um…no. It’s Tony.”
Jeremy sagged into the seat of his car, steering around a trash can along the side of the road. He had to get to Heather in time. He just had to.
But he didn’t even know where she was.
Braking at a stop sign, he considered which turn to make. Would she still be home? Had she gone to the PNW office? Or had she decided she needed help and gone looking for him?
Doubtful on the last two options, he turned toward her town house, pushing the engine hard.
“Jeremy, you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here, Tony. What’s going on?”
Tony sighed. “I heard something about Heather today. I knew you’d want to know right away.”
Jeremy’s grip on the wheel nearly cut off circulation to his fingers. “What’d you hear?”
“One of the other guys brought in a guy who was spouting off stuff about how a lawyer paid him to take a message to his boss about an FBI agent being in the park tonight at sunset for a meeting.”
“Did he call her by name?”
“No, but he’s been mumbling about how she’s going to get what her sister got.”
“What park?” Jeremy demanded. He squinted into the setting sun, his mind racing but not finding a plan to settle on.
Tony’s voice, which usually passed for a pretty good James Earl Jones impression, turned soft. “I don’t know. The perp wouldn’t say. He passed out drunk before we could get any more info out of him. I have him in lockup, but he’s useless now.”
“How many parks are there in the city?”
“There has to be at least a dozen just this side of the 205.”
Jeremy slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He had just minutes to figure out what park she’d be at, but where could he possibly start?
Still speeding toward her house, he swerved to the shoulder, pulling to a stop. He didn’t have time to waste going in the wrong direction.
“What can I do, man?” Tony finally asked.
“Put out an APB on her. And one on Clay Kramer.”
“Kramer? As in…”
“Kit’s fiancé…and I think he’s the one Heather is about to meet in the park. She just doesn’t know it.”
After several long moments, Tony groaned. “This is going to get messy. What else can I do?”
“Pray.”
“Done.”
Immediately after ending the call with Tony, Jeremy dialed Nate on his personal cell phone, which he’d given to Jeremy before sending him off to meet Gordon.
“Jeremy? Have you talked to Heather? She’s still not answering her phone.”
“No. But I just talked to a buddy at the P.D. He has info that Heather set up a meeting with our guy at a park tonight at sunset.”
Nate’s voice sounded thick. “But it’s after five already. Are you headed to the park?”
“I don’t know which one.” Jeremy rubbed his hand over his hair. He wanted to pull it all out, but he mustered the energy to refrain. Finding and protecting Heather. That was most important.
Through the phone a chair creaked and Nate hollered to someone else. “Myles! You remember when Heather took care of Kenzie’s dog, Henry?” There was a short pause. “Didn’t she take him to a park?”
The other voice sounded distant, but Jeremy could still make out his words. “Sure. She took him to Fernhill. I think it was near her sister’s place, and they met there a few times. Why?”
Nate’s voice came clearly back on the line. “You get that?”
“It’s worth a chance.” Jeremy peeled out, pulling into traffic and pulling a one-eighty at the nearest light.
Sailing down the road, lights flashing and siren going, Jeremy prayed like he had never prayed before.
“God, please let me get to her in time. Please let her be at Fernhill Park, and let me get there before anything else happens to her. Don’t let this be like…”
His voice cracked, and he couldn’t continue the words that he wanted and needed to say. He needed to admit how long he’d carried the weight of shame and regret over the loss of Reena and his other friends. He needed to put a voice to the fear that had kept him from realizing the true depth of his attraction for the special agent who had taken over his life the last week.
But as the buildings flew by in a blur, he could only think about the last words Heather had spoken to him. She’d told him he was doing exactly what he’d accused her of. He’d refused to give control to God, wielding the responsibility for something that wasn’t in his control.
“Heavenly Father, Heather’s right. I thought I could have and should have protected Reena, and I should have spoken up. But I wasn’t in control of anything that day. You were.”
He heaved a loud sigh as the bottom of the sun slipped below the horizon in his rearview mirror. “We’re running out of time, but I’m trusting You to be in control today, too.”
Heather checked the time on her cell phone again. Two minutes past the time she’d told Lee Cooper that she’d be in the park and another two missed calls—one from Jeremy and one from Nate. The last of Jeremy’s messages that she’d listened to had been an hour earlier.
“Call me right away, Sloan. Get home immediately. Just check in with me!” he’d yelled. After a short pause in a defeated voice, “Heather, I’m sorry for the way we left things, but I’m going crazy with worry here. Nate got me a way to find Mick Gordon, and I’m heading to his place right now. So just…don’t do anything stupid. I need to know that you’re okay.”
Pushing away all thoughts of the two men and possibly the loss of her job she’d have to face after this, she thought about the lawyer who she’d been certain would pass the information along to his client. This was still the best idea she had. In mere minutes she could know the identity of her sister’s killer and make sure he got what he deserved.
She rubbed her hand across the waistband at the back of her jeans, confirming that her service weapon still rested beneath her light jacket.
The sun wasn’t quite gone yet, but the park was beginning to clear out.
A breaking stick behind her made her jump, and she turned around as fast as she could, while leaning heavily on her crutches. A little brown dog barked at her, then picked up the stick he’d been chewing on and trotted off.
Her heart didn’t calm down as fast as the dog disappeared, and she rubbed her palms on the foam handles of the crutches. She didn’t really need them anymore, but it wouldn’t hurt for her to have a little secret when this went down.
If it went down.
She scanned the faces of the people wandering on the other side of the park, and as it had been a year ago when she’d taken a friend’s dog here, this section seemed almost deserted, save for a puppy here or there.
Suddenly she picked out a figure in her peripheral vision walking straight toward her. Turning to look at his familiar strides, she almost rubbed her eyes, not believing who was headed her way.
“Clay! What are you doing here? Are you all right? Where have you been?”
The setting sun was at his back, making it difficult to see his face until he was close enough to reach out to touch her arm with a warm hand. “I’m fine.”
She touched the red mark at his hairline where he’d been cut during his attack. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
She squinted at him, trying to figure out what was wrong with the picture in front of her. Clay looked like he always did, polished and handsome. His khakis and blue dress shirt had been perfectly pressed, his hair meticulously combed into place.
She took a careful step back, her stomach twisting. “Where have you been?”
“Taking care of business.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal that he’d just disappeared from the hospital and not been in touch for two days.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice almost cracked, but she kept it together with a concentrated effort.
“I came to see you.” His face didn’t move, didn’t show any emotion, and Heather took another step back. He mirrored her actions. “I came to see if you’re okay. Clearly you still are. And it’s high time that situation was remedied.”
She swallowed the lump building in her throat, fear boiling in her stomach. “How did you know I was here?”
His lip curled, transforming his features into perfect cruelty.
The truth formed in her gut like a rock, stealing her breath and leaving her head spinning.
“Lee Cooper told you.” It wasn’t really a question.
“Of course he did. And since no one else could get done what I’d been asking them to do for weeks, I guess I’m going to have to do it myself.”
She blinked into brown eyes filled with hatred and wished that she had returned at least one of Jeremy’s phone calls.
“You’re shaking,” Clay taunted, closing the gap between them by another step.
“N-no I’m not,” she lied, blinking against the anger mixing with her fear deep in her chest.
“What did you think was going to happen here tonight?” His tone continued mocking her, but his eyes remained cruel, hard as the barrel of her gun pressing against her lower back.
“I thought Kit’s killer was going to come, and he has.” She sucked in a quick breath, as Clay shrugged one shoulder and carelessly turned his head away for just a moment. She reached behind her back and yanked the gun from its hiding place.
In a fraction of a second, she had Clay’s chest lined up with the site at the end of the barrel.
“You’re not going to shoot me,” he said with a laugh. “You have too many questions about why all of this has happened and what happened to your sister. I’m the only one with the answers you need.”
She shook her head, denying what she knew to be true. She did want answers.
The sun finally set completely, leaving only the park lights to illuminate Clay’s arrogant smirk.
The rage inside her churned, and she jabbed her gun at him. “Just give me a reason to.”
Suddenly a dog barked right behind her, and she jumped. With incredible speed Clay grabbed the gun with his left hand and wrenched it from her grasp. With his other hand, he produced a black pistol from under his arm.
Heather’s vision narrowed, and she couldn’t take her gaze off of his weapon as she waited to die by the same hand that had killed Kit.
Only one thought broke through the shock.
She would never see Jeremy again.
God, forgive me for what I said to him. And please help him forgive me for landing myself in this situation…and for dying before I had the chance to tell him I love him.