“Roark, talk to me.”
“Got it, sir. Just the one driver, no passengers that I can tell. Driver’s wearing a hat. Can’t make an identity.” Roark held the binoculars tightly against his brow. “And Marcus isn’t answering his phone.”
Jackson held Eloise behind him in the far corner of the big, open room. He could slip her out the back at a minute’s notice. If whoever this was hadn’t already placed people around the entire house. “See anybody else out there?”
“Negative.” Roark moved from window to window, scanning the yard and woods. “No one that I can spot. No boats or watercrafts on the lake, either.”
Jackson took a breath then leaned toward Eloise. “It could be sightseers or a maintenance person. We’re just making sure.”
She nodded, her eyes wide as she glanced back up at him. “I hate this, Jackson.”
“You and me both.”
Roark and Thea stalked from window to window. “Nothing,” Thea shouted back. “The car’s pulling up to the house.”
“Stay cool,” Jackson ordered. “Roark—”
“Already on it.” Roark drew his weapon and headed toward the front door.
Jackson held Eloise close, so close he could feel her heart thumping against his jacket, beating in unison with his own. “Stay right here and stay behind me,” he told her.
Roark waited about two beats then opened the door, his gun drawn and centered on the person on the porch. “Don’t come any farther.”
“It’s me,” Marcus called, holding up a hand. He took off the dark cap. “Hey, it’s me. Didn’t you see me?”
Roark let out a grunt of a sigh. “Well, no. That’s not the car you left in this morning and I don’t recall you wearing that stupid hat, either.”
Jackson felt relief washing over him, then anger. “Marcus? What were you thinking?” he asked at the top of his lungs as he stalked into the middle of the room. “We could have shot you.”
Marcus didn’t even blink. Instead, he motioned to Duff. “Did the dog alert?”
“No,” Roark said, surprised. “He did bark once or twice, but that’s about it.”
“Well, there you have it,” Marcus replied, nodding toward Duff. “Duff knew I was a friend.”
“He didn’t inform us of that,” Roark replied evenly before giving Duff a disappointed look. “And he wasn’t the one on watch out on the porch.”
“But…he knew,” Marcus said. “And in answer to your question, Big Mac, I was thinking that since someone was tailing me when I was leaving Snow Sky, that I probably should ditch the rental car I was in and find another one. So that’s what I did. I left that one in a parking lot, went into a convenience store and ducked out the back, then called a cab to take me to the nearest rental place. And…I got this car, such as it is.”
“You should have called ahead,” Roark said, his grin not quite happy as he yanked at the sock cap Marcus was holding.
Marcus shrugged. “I was more concerned about who was behind me than what lay ahead of me, man. And…I was a just a tad concerned about radio frequencies and a possible GPS on my cell and my car, if you get my drift. I couldn’t risk calling in—my gut said no.”
“What makes you think that?” Jackson asked in an impatient tone. If Marcus’s gut was talking then Jackson needed to listen.
Marcus waved a hand in the air. “Oh, maybe because when I got back to the original rental car I could tell it’d been tampered with.” He shrugged. “I don’t know about my phone since it never left my pocket. I just had a feeling. So I decided to come in under the radar.”
“Okay, all right,” Jackson said, disapproval radiating through his system. “So you’re here now and lucky for you, Roark didn’t plug you full of bullets. Who do you think was tailing you?”
Marcus patted Duff on the head, eyed the cheddar bread and walked over to grab a big hunk. Taking a bite, he closed his eyes and savored the bread. “Two of ’em. Big, burly and completely out of place. Pretty sure it was Martino’s men. Must have spotted me coming out of the police station.”
Jackson stared over at him, wondering if he should reprimand the man or give him a medal. “You’re sure?”
“Well, they didn’t look like tourists. You know, all dark haired and wearing dark shades and overcoats. Overcoats, when it’s close to eighty-five degrees out there. Give me a break.”
“And you’re sure you lost them?”
“Didn’t see them when I got in the cab and didn’t see them again when I hightailed it out of town in that plain, ordinary car.” He did a neck roll. “Hey, you know me better than that. Sorry I didn’t call. I thought—”
“Don’t think,” Jackson said. “You know the protocol. You know to stay in communication at all times.”
“You’re right,” Marcus said, turning serious. “But…I had other things on my mind, too, sir. And I had one more very good reason for not communicating with you guys.”
Jackson’s head came up. Marcus was thorough and always a pro. Maybe he did have a good excuse for scaring the daylights out of all of them. “Oh, and what was that, Agent Powell?”
“I was also being tailed by Detective Randall Parker. At least, I think he was tailing me. To tell you the truth, though, it looked like he was tailing the Martino capos, too.”
Jackson’s head was going to split wide open. Rubbing his forehead with two fingers, he shifted on his chair and let out a grunt. They were all sitting around the big dining table, trying to figure out what to do next.
Eloise got up, rustled through the pantry, then came back with a glass of water and two pain pills. “Take this,” she said, giving him a look that told him he’d better do as she said.
Jackson gulped down the tablets then finished off the water. “Thank you.” Then he looked down at the chart he’d put together. “Go ahead and say it. I should have stayed away from Parker.” And now Ellie knew.
Marcus shook his head. “I figure he saw us entering Ms. Smith’s apartment at some point and he’s put things together already. Maybe he fell for your cover story or maybe he was just playing along in hopes of getting information.”
“Or maybe I gave him exactly what he needed,” Jackson replied, disgust in the words. In spite of vowing to stay focused, he was way too distracted to be heading this task force.
Eloise sat down next to him. “Jackson, he’s a smart cop. He’s good at his job and if he did watch my house then he knows something. And now, you’re pretty sure he tried to break in, too. So he had to know someone was there with me that night. The dog was barking and everyone was running around. He’s not stupid. He would have eventually put it all together whether I stayed there or not.”
Jackson looked down at the chart. “So we have Parker on one end, trying to get to you and we have Martino’s men snooping around, trying to find out information about you. Plus, someone left you roses twice. Had to be the Mob since Parker’s wife wasn’t dead the first time you received flowers.” He glanced around the table. “But if they compare notes with Parker, then the stakes get even higher.”
Thea held up a hand. “What if Parker saw one of the Martino goons trying to leave those roses at the apartment that night?”
Jackson nodded. “And he tailed that person or persons, trying to figure out why they’d want to leave roses so late at night?”
Thea jotted down some notes. “Parker would cover all the bases. He might have thought it strange or maybe his detective instincts kicked in and he decided to investigate.”
“But that doesn’t mean he knows anything,” Marcus said. “Although he apparently knew enough to make me and probably those thugs, too.”
“Well, Martino’s thugs could get tired of being tailed by one of the locals and decide to off Parker the next time they see him,” Roark offered up. “That would solve one problem.”
“Especially if they think he’s onto them,” Marcus added. “Maybe we should force the issue, set Parker up.”
“We can’t do that,” Jackson said. “Yes, we’re pretty sure he killed his wife and that he tried to break into Ellie’s place, but we can’t just put the Mafia on the man. Even though I’m tempted, believe me.”
“He did kill his wife,” Eloise said, her tone firm. “I don’t know how the flowers got there, but I know Randall Parker killed Meredith.”
“I believe you,” Jackson replied. Then he told them about the rope he’d seen in Parker’s apartment.
“But that still doesn’t prove he was there that night,” Thea said. “And we won’t know anything until we hear back from the State lab on the rope and grapple hook we found.”
“Check on that for me,” Jackson said. “And see how Meredith Parker’s autopsy is coming along.”
She got up. “Yes, sir.”
“Marcus, what did you find out from Captain Lewis?”
Marcus took a sip of his diet soda. “Oh, he had lots to say about Detective Parker. Good at his job, bad with people skills. The man’s been written up, put on probation and investigated by internal affairs so much he should get a medal for being a bad boy. Excessive force being one of his finer traits.”
“Any reports on domestic abuse?” Jackson asked.
“As a matter of fact, the captain had a couple of those on him, too. His wife called in two times in the last two years, but she always dropped the charges. Lewis thinks Parker intimidated her into keeping quiet. They always made up and that was that, according to the captain. And the department put a lid on it. Probably why none of this showed up in the first report we found.”
“And how does the captain feel about her death?”
“Not good, sir. Not good at all. He wouldn’t elaborate, but he’s concerned. He’s willing to work with us to that end—to prove or disprove that one of his top detectives did or did not kill his wife. He wants to keep it low-key, however. The big chief favors Parker and lets him slide a lot because he’s so good at his job.”
“And have we heard anything from Great Falls? What about the records we want pulled from the first wife’s murder?”
“I’ll check on that,” Roark said, moving away from the table. “Maybe something’s come through since I put in the request yesterday.”
“Okay,” Jackson said, giving a nod. “From what I saw of the detective, he was lying about a lot of things and he’s itching to talk to Meredith. He’s thinking she saw something and he wants to get to her before anyone else. If he made you today, Marcus, then he’s probably thinking you were at the station investigating Eloise, not him. And he followed you, hoping to find her.”
“Which he didn’t,” Marcus said, pleased with himself. “And he won’t, sir. As for the Martino goons—I’d say they’re stewing away at some Snow Sky hotel, biding their time until they can snoop around some more. Probably bringing more roses, too, just to add that special Mob touch.”
“Yes, biding their time until they find out where Eloise is,” Jackson added, glancing over at her. “And as long as she’s with us and we don’t lose our cool, she will be protected. Right?”
“Right, sir,” Marcus said, nodding. “Absolutely right.” He glanced out toward the woods. “Although I have to wonder how both Parker and Martino’s men knew to tail me. I mean, there where several people milling around the station. Why follow me in particular?”
Jackson wondered that same thing. “Do you think someone’s tipped Parker off and he just got in line behind the Martino men, trying to tail you?”
Marcus rubbed his chin. “I did meet his partner—tall, skinny man with skittish brown eyes—George An drews.”
Jackson looked at Eloise. “He and another officer came to talk to Eloise the morning Meredith Parker was found. He and Parker would naturally be comparing information.” He made a note. “We need to talk to Skinny—somebody get me some information on Parker’s partner.”
Eloise touched Jackson’s arm. “I think I might know a little about that.”
Surprised, he stared over at her. “Keep talking.”
“Verdie mentioned Marcus again—she saw him that morning in the café, remember?”
“I remember,” Jackson replied. “But she has no idea who he is, right?”
Eloise shook her head. “No, but…she did mention that he seemed highly interested in Meredith’s death—he was still there when the police came in to tell Verdie about Meredith, remember?”
Jackson glanced at Marcus. “Yeah, but Marcus knows how to stand back and observe.” He glared at Marcus. “You did stand back, Agent Powell?”
Marcus bobbed his head. “Yes, sir. I listened and absorbed information. But before the cops came in, I was carrying on a conversation with Verdie—trying to get information.”
Eloise glanced between the two of them. “When I called Verdie to tell her I was leaving, she asked me if I’d seen anyone fitting Marcus’s description hanging around. She was worried because he was a stranger. She did mention that Parker’s partner, George, had questioned her about everyone at the restaurant that morning. She had to tell him, so he’d be on the lookout for someone fitting Marcus’s description.”
“And I showed up at the police station,” Marcus replied, hitting himself on the forehead. “We should have sent Roark instead.”
“I should have sent Roark instead,” Jackson shot back, getting up to pace around the room. “If Verdie mentioned you to Andrews, well…then he’d naturally let Parker know you were there. Parker followed you to check you out.”
“But he killed Meredith,” Eloise said. “Why would he want to question Marcus?”
“Maybe he’s hoping to find someone to pin this on,” Marcus offered. “And I looked like a good choice—stranger lurking about, flirting with the help, asking questions. It’s just enough to take the heat off himself for a while.” He shrugged. “I didn’t break protocol, Jackson, I promise. But the café wasn’t very busy that morning and I did kind of stand out as being new in town.” Then he winked. “I mean, what can I say? People notice me.”
Jackson’s glowering look stopped Marcus’s boasting. “Obviously, Verdie noticed you and so did the Martino bunch. Haven’t I taught you anything?”
“Hey, I did my job,” Marcus said, all teasing aside. “I was dressed completely different today. I know how to stay undercover, sir.”
Jackson pushed a hand through his hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It was my call and I blew it. I should have sent Roark to talk to the police. I take full responsibility.”
Eloise stood up. “Look, this could have all been an innocent mistake. Verdie wants to find out who killed Meredith as much as I do and she probably gave the police any information she could remember. She was just trying to cooperate.”
“And we have to go on the assumption that she told Andrews about everyone who’d been by the diner that week,” Jackson added, hoping to smooth Marcus’s obvious anger. Then he had another thought. “Maybe someone else was watching the café that morning, too. And maybe that someone saw you there, recognized you and spilled the beans. Or just reported back to Martino.”
He looked at Marcus. Marcus lifted his head. And they both said in unison, “The leak.” They’d been so careful, but if the wrong person had seen their internal memos and identified them…
“I’ll call Micah right now,” Jackson said, thinking if someone from the Marshal’s office had gained access to his task force in Billings, that same someone would have told Martino where to find the entire team. And…Eloise.
She turned, her gaze locking with his. Jackson gave her a reassuring look then headed upstairs to call his brother.
Micah answered on the second ring. “Jackson? Everything okay?”
“No,” Jackson said, explaining about Marcus being made. “He had both Parker and some Martino men on his tail but he lost them.”
Micah let out a sigh. “So you think someone told Martino exactly where Eloise lives?”
“It’s beginning to look that way. No one in Snow Sky knows any of us, but two suspicious men sure spotted Marcus at the police station today and from the descriptions it sounds like the same two who attacked Verdie at the café. I have a feeling they’ve been by Eloise’s town house, too. Which means our leak is still passing on information. If it’s Sellers, we need to watch him even closer.”
“I’m doing that,” Micah said. “He’s not making any moves right now—but then, if he’s told them your location he wouldn’t need to.”
“Has he been away from the office recently?”
“I’d have to check on that. I’ll find out.”
“What about the decoy?”
“We’re working on that angle,” Micah said. “We can’t just rush in, though. If he knows everything about our operation, he’d get suspicious. Especially if he already knows what you’re doing. We’ve dropped some hints but we have to set up the paper trail so he’ll have a reason to have access to the information through official channels, not just because we shove it at him.”
“Good point,” Jackson said. “Just keep at it and try to lure him out.”
“I’ll keep you posted,” Micah said. “Hey, Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“I got a call from Zane Black. He and Kristin are fine but…she’s asking about her mother. I told him I’d pass it on. Maybe you could give them a call, update them that Eloise is safe.”
“I’ll do that,” Jackson said, remembering a conversation he’d had with Zane a few weeks ago. “Zane gave a strong indication that the leak might be coming from your office. Maybe I can jog his memory, too, while I’m at it.”
“Let me know if you find anything that can help us pin down Sellers.”
Jackson hung up then dialed Zane’s number.
“We’re good,” Zane said. “But she’s worried. She won’t plan the wedding until she knows her mother will be able to come. I could use some help here, Jackson.”
“It’s too risky right now,” Jackson said, “but maybe I can arrange a quick phone call. I’ll let you know, okay?”
“Okay. How are things on your end?”
“Not so good. We think the leak might have sent Martino’s men right to Eloise’s door. Did you ever figure out what you had on your mind when we last talked about the possibility of a leak?”
Zane inhaled a breath. “I don’t know. I guess I was just so worried about Kristin I was grasping at straws, but…I keep thinking about the two marshals who came to the Westbrook police station right after someone tried to push Kristin into traffic. One of them—he just kept staring at Kristin. At the time, I thought probably because she resembled some of the women they were investigating. Like I said, it nagged me, but since then I kinda let it go. I mean, they’d be interested in the case, of course, but this guy looked almost angry.”
A red flag went up in Jackson’s mind. “Can you describe him?”
Zane was silent for a minute. “I think so. He looked to be in his late forties. Graying brush-cut hair, hazel eyes.” He let out a grunt. “And…he walked with a limp.”
“A limp? You’re sure.”
“Yeah, he walked right by us,” Zane said. “And he never took his eyes off Kristin.”
“Thanks,” Jackson said, whirling to stare down at Eloise. “I’ll get back to you about that phone call.”
He called Micah back. “Hey, doesn’t Sellers have a disability?”
“Yes, he was injured a few years ago—used to be a field agent. Why?”
“Zane Black just identified someone matching his description as being in the Westbrook police station the same day Zane and Kristin were there. Said he showed a strong interest in Kristin.”
“I think we have our man,” Micah replied, his tone curt. “Seems Sellers took a half day off a few days back.”
Jackson inhaled sharply. “Let me guess? The same morning Marcus was stationed at Ellie’s Café, right?”
“Yep. Claimed he had a doctor’s appointment across town. Haven’t verified that yet, but I’m thinking he did a quick trip up to Snow Sky, probably to meet with the Mob.”
“Staked out the diner then recognized Marcus sitting inside.”
“Looks that way.” Micah lowered his voice. “He probably left quick when the police showed up. I’ll set up the sting ASAP. Maybe we should plant the decoy in Eloise’s apartment then I’ll make sure Sellers has access to that information through the proper channels. Then we wait.”
“Do that,” Jackson said. “And keep me posted.”
He put away his phone then looked back down at Thea and Eloise. If they could take down Sellers, that would be one problem solved at least.
But he had two other problems.
Parker was still after Eloise.
And so was Martino.
No matter what, he couldn’t let either one of them get to her. Because they were both desperate and dangerous and neither of them had much to lose at this point.
While Jackson had everything to lose.