Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls) (26 page)

He’d been formulating a plan. Tomorrow, he was putting it into action. They went out onto the porch. A silver Mercedes sedan was parked out front.

“Who is that?” Ellie asked.

“Boston plates. Must be Kate’s parents.” Grant hustled across the front yard. “I hope calling them wasn’t a big mistake.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ellie followed Grant into the house. An older couple stood in the foyer. Hannah was taking coats and hanging them in the closet.

“These are Kate’s parents, Bill and Stella Sheridan.” Hannah introduced Grant and Ellie. “Let’s go back to the kitchen. I just made coffee.”

Bill was tall, with a thick head of silver hair, blue eyes, and a slight stoop. His thin wife had a gray bob cut precisely to swing at her chin, pointy and angular as her face. They were well-dressed in slacks and sweaters.

Stella frowned at the peeling wallpaper in the hall. In the kitchen, Hannah set out mugs and coffee on the table. The baby stirred, making a fussy sound. The Sheridans crossed the floor and stopped in front of Faith’s baby seat.

“That’s your granddaughter, Faith.” Grant squatted and released the harness. He lifted the baby and turned her to face the Sheridans.

Stella reached a tentative hand and touched Faith’s chubby thigh. “Babies should take naps in their cribs.”

“She’s colicky,” Grant said.

Stella shook her head. “Babies need routine, Major. Put her in her crib and leave her be. She’ll cry for a while, but she’ll soon learn to be independent. If you coddle her, she’ll never learn that the world doesn’t revolve around her. I understand there’s an older child as well?”

“Yes. Carson is six. He’s taking a nap.” Hannah measured formula.

“I imagine this has been an awful week for him.” Stella lowered her hand from Faith’s leg. Was Kate’s mother nervous? She’d never seen her grandchildren. How many regrets was Mrs. Sheridan battling behind her gray eyes?

“He’s having a rough time.” Grant’s brow creased. Hannah handed him a bottle, and he settled at the table with Faith in the crook of his arm. The Sheridans sat across from him. Ellie contemplated backing out of the room and giving the family privacy, but the grief in Grant’s eyes pulled her to him. Ellie took the chair next to him, pressing her leg against his. He shot her a grateful look.

Bill ignored the coffee Hannah set in front of him. “When is the funeral being planned?”

Grant shifted the baby to his shoulder and burped her. “We haven’t made plans yet. The medical examiner just released their bodies a couple of hours ago.”

Remembering Grant’s tight hold on her as he slept in her bed, Ellie’s heart clenched. He hadn’t told her. Didn’t he trust her? He’d lied to her yesterday about where he was going with Mac. Was he holding anything else back?

“What about the children? What plans have been made for them?”

Grant cleared his throat. “We haven’t made any decisions yet.”

“What are the options?” Stella interlaced her fingers and leaned her forearms on the table. “Are either of you married?” Her gaze shifted between Hannah and Grant.

“No,” Grant admitted. “Why didn’t you speak to Kate over the years?”

“Kate made her decision. She rejected us.” Stella’s cheeks flushed. “We all made mistakes. Now we’ve no opportunity to rectify them. Something I will regret until the day I die.” She placed her palms on the table. “Major, it seems to me that the best option for those children is for us to raise them. We have sufficient income to ensure they get the best care and private education. We know an excellent child psychologist, and we’ve already made inquiries to find a qualified nanny. They won’t want for anything.”

Except affection, thought Ellie, but she kept her mouth shut. This wasn’t any of her business. The Sheridans didn’t appear mean, just standoffish. But Carson craved physical contact. Ellie couldn’t imagine either of the Sheridans cuddling with him after a nightmare.

“I think you should meet Carson before we discuss any long term plans.” Grant said.

Stella nodded. She didn’t have to wait long. Carson appeared, sleepy and rumpled, in the kitchen doorway. Grant passed the baby to Hannah, and Carson climbed onto Grant’s lap.

“Carson, these are your grandparents,” Grant said.

“Hello, Carson. It’s nice to meet you.” Stella reached out and touched his arm. “You look like your mommy when she was little.”

Carson curled a hand around his lips and leaned close to Grant’s ear. “I don’t know her.”

Grant patted him on the back. “It’s OK.”

Bill cleared his throat. His eyes were misty. “You can call us Grandma and Grandpa if you like.”

Carson turned his face into Grant’s chest and wound his arms around his uncle’s neck.

Stella pulled a tissue from her pocket and blotted her eyes. “Why don’t we come back tomorrow, after he’s had some time to adjust to the idea?”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Grant stood, with Carson still in his arms.

Ellie put a hand on the ache in her chest. How would it feel to be estranged from a child for more than a decade and have her die violently before you could make amends?

“Remember our offer,” Stella said.

“As I said before, we haven’t made any decisions yet.” Grant rose, patting Faith on the back. They escorted the Sheridans to the foyer. Hannah fetched their coats.

“Children need stability.” Bill held his wife’s coat. “Please keep that in mind.”

Stella paused in the doorway. “We’re staying at a bed-and-breakfast.” She handed Grant a card. “I’ve written my cell phone number on the back. Please call if you decide on a funeral date.”

Grant closed the door after them. Mac came down the steps. “Who’s hungry?”

“Me.” Carson lifted his head from Grant’s shoulder. He set the boy down, and Carson followed Mac down the hall into the kitchen.

Hannah rested her cheek on Faith’s head. “Not the most demonstrative pair of grandparents.”

“Our family is hardly perfect. We’ve barely seen each other in the past few years.”

“I don’t know.” Hannah shook her head. “Carson didn’t seem too keen on her, and she didn’t ask to hold the baby.”

“She’s had a shock. I imagine she always thought there’d be time to reconcile with Kate. And now there isn’t.” Grant sighed. “Maybe it’s just as well they weren’t too pushy. I’m not sure he’s ready. He doesn’t ask about the future. He can barely get through today.” Was Grant talking about Carson or himself? “He’ll warm up to them.”

Hannah stopped and stared at him. “You can’t be thinking of letting those people raise the kids? Or maybe I should say, letting their hired help raise the kids.”

Ellie agreed with Hannah, but this was the Barretts’ decision, not hers, though her heart broke for Carson. The little boy was attached to Grant. Ellie could relate. She didn’t want to think about Grant leaving.

“I don’t know,” Grant said. “Are you prepared to quit your job? I’ll be in Afghanistan for at least another month, and it wouldn’t surprise me if my deployment gets extended. It usually does. I could end up overseas until fall. Mac is headed for South America. What else are we going to do?”

Ellie washed out the baby’s bottle and put it in the dishwasher. Grant leaned back against the counter next to her. He hadn’t shaved today. The blond scruff on his jaw made her think of their lovemaking. She’d never experienced anything that intense—or sweet. Her face heated. She tugged her turtleneck higher, making sure the faint beard burn on her neck was covered.

She turned and leaned toward him, then stopped midmotion. She’d been leaning in to give him a comforting kiss. That sort of intimate domesticity could never happen between them, but shock filled her at how much she wanted it. Grant was so unlike any other man she’d dated. Strong, reliable, honest. If she allowed herself, she could easily imagine weekends of blissful, boring, ordinariness. Grant looking sexily rumpled. Kissing her with the wicked promise in his eyes that he’d do a lot more at the first opportunity. The family innocent and ignorant of his intent.

Well, not Nan. She didn’t miss much.

Ellie’s phone vibrated once. An incoming text. A second buzz in her front pocket reverberated in her hipbone. She felt the blood drain from her head as she pulled out her cell.

Afraid to look at the display until she was in private, she ducked out of the room with a quick, “excuse me.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grant following her as she went into the office.

He closed the door. “Same number as yesterday?”

“No. It’s a new one.”

“What does it say?” he prompted.

She read the message. “Do you have the file?”

“Type yes.”

“What?”

“I’m done screwing around with this guy.” Grant’s eyes chilled to ice blue. “Today, we’re making him a file.”

A sense of the inevitable filled her. Grant was right. This had to end. Her hands were steady as she typed
Yes
into the phone and hit Send.

They stared at each other as nearly five minutes passed.

“I think your answer surprised him,” Grant said. “Which is good.”

The return message came in and Ellie read it. “Eight o’clock tonight. Same parking lot as before. Come alone or everyone dies.”

Turning into the parking lot of St. Vincent’s Thrift Shop, Grant adjusted the wig and slid down in the driver’s seat of Ellie’s minivan. He drove past a brick bungalow on his left and into an asphalt rectangle approximately thirty by sixty. A light fastened to the back of the building cast a puddle of light onto the pavement. Beyond the reach of the single light, darkness waited. The shop was a few blocks from the commercial district, with the closest residence a half mile down the road.

Plenty of privacy.

With all senses on high alert, Grant drove to the rear of the lot and parked in the darkest corner. He scanned the surroundings but saw no sign of company. A flip of a switch killed the headlights. The van’s interior dome light had been disabled back at the house. Ellie’s phone sat on the console next to the GPS tracking device. Hoodie Man knew the van was here.

Where are you, Donnie?

If Grant had been running an operation like this, he would have arrived early and secured the area. Hoodie Man wasn’t here yet, so he was likely an amateur. Adrenaline flowed hot and fast through Grant’s veins. Tonight he’d face his brother’s killer and find out who’d hired him to kill Lee. Then Grant and his family could begin to heal. He lowered the window to listen to the night. A vehicle engine approached. Tires grated on salt and sand left on the blacktop after the ice had melted.

A sedan pulled into the lot behind the minivan. So far, so good. The driver got out. In the van’s mirrors, Grant watched the black-clad, hooded figure give the lot a cursory scan before approaching the vehicle. The sedan’s headlights glinted on the metal of a gun. Without speaking, Grant stuck the fake file out the open window. He held it vertically and used it to block his face from view.

The hooded man stepped forward until he was next to the driver’s side door. He snatched the file, his excitement getting the best of him. Grant’s hand closed on the door handle. He jerked it back and pushed. The door slammed into the man and knocked him off his feet. The gun and file flew out of his hands. They slid across the asphalt, blank sheets of paper scattering in the wind. Grant launched his body out of the vehicle. Fueled by fury, he landed on top.

Out of his peripheral vision, he glimpsed Mac running out of the adjacent field. Grant had dropped him off well before the meeting to provide cover.

Straddling his opponent’s chest, Grant yanked back the hood and ripped off the bandana. He raised his hand—and froze.

It wasn’t Donnie. Corey Swann stared up at Grant.

“
You
killed my brother.” Grant’s fingers curled into a fist. He wanted his knife. “I should just slit your throat right here.”

“Killed your brother?” Corey wheezed as Grant sat on his sternum. “What are you talking about? I didn’t kill anybody.”

Damn it. Corey must have hired Donnie to kill Lee but hadn’t trusted the hit man to recover the file. “You hired someone to kill him. Same thing.”

Corey coughed.

Grant pulled his dad’s KA-BAR from its sheath on his calf and pressed the blade to Corey’s throat. “I know about the GPS. I know you threatened to kill Ellie’s family. I saw the texts you sent, using a burner phone just like your daughter used to torment Lindsay Hamilton.”

Corey drew a ragged breath. Reluctantly, Grant shifted his weight slightly to let him draw a breath.

“Yes,” Corey gasped. “I threatened to kill them, but I didn’t hurt anyone. I just wanted that file.”

“Why?” Grant asked, vaguely aware of Mac coming to stand next to him. “What’s in the file?”

“I don’t know!” Corey cried. “But your brother found something to implicate my daughter. I had to find out what it was and destroy it.”

“You don’t even know what it is?” Shock flowed through Grant. This man had hurt people to prevent his daughter from being accused of the crime she committed.

“No, but whatever it is, no one can find out about it.” Corey’s eyes watered, the moisture shining in the headlights, fear etched in his expression. “All I did was threaten Ellie Ross. That’s it. I was afraid Lee Barrett found enough evidence to convince the police to file charges against my daughter. I couldn’t risk that. Even a civil suit would destroy her future. I won’t let her life be ruined for one mistake.”

“One mistake? She drove a girl to commit suicide.”