Love Inspired Suspense December 2015, Box Set 2 of 2 (46 page)

Lacey zeroed in on the button pinned to the man in the background. “Is that what that button is about? It says, Vote for Jobs.”

“Exactly. There had to be a town vote to allow the track to open. It won by a landslide. That's Meredith's father, Gary Shelton, in the picture. He really pushed for the vote to pass. Chuck helped out, too, at the state level. Right, Chuck?”

“Sure did. The track has been good for the whole state's economy.”

Lacey smiled at the man. Knowing a senator didn't hurt. She looked back at the picture. “Where is Meredith's father now?”

Wade cut in to answer, “My grandfather died of a heart attack shortly after my parents. I didn't know him well. Obviously couldn't even recognize him in the photo, even if it wasn't grainy. He seemed to show up only when another baby was born. The last time I saw him was when Luke was born, eighteen months prior.”

Lacey frowned, thinking of that small child in the fire with them all. Such a horrific thing to happen. She looked at Wade and felt for him more, knowing he lived with that nightmare every day, more so than Roni, even. She'd been three years old and didn't remember much, but Wade had been old enough to remember every horrid detail. Especially the detail of having to leave that infant behind.

No wonder he never wanted to leave another person behind. Lacey had to think this made him a good captain in the army, but just how many deaths could a person grieve?

Clay chuckled. “I always thought your grandfather was part of the mafia or something. He had so much money, and to this day, I still don't know what he did. If I asked Meredith, she always said he's into a little of this and a little of that. Always so vague.”

“Are we even sure the man was her father?” Wade asked.

Clay's eyes squinted. “I'm not following. You think she lied about who her father was? What would be the point?”

Wade looked at Lacey for a few beats. Was he waiting for her to give him some direction? How much he divulged was totally up to him. Especially when he believed people died when he talked. This was more than a simple dilemma of whether or not to share a family secret. This was a death sentence to anyone he spoke to.

But not for her.

“Clay—” Lacey spoke for Wade “—we think Meredith might have been involved in some illegal activity. We think she might have been a spy, possibly working with the Russians. Wade is trying to put the pieces together, and that means questioning all he believed to be true. If this man wasn't the ‘bouncing on your knee' kind of granddaddy, it would stand to reason he might not have been a grandfather at all, but a boss of some kind. Perhaps her handler.”

Quizzical silence ensued from Clay. He looked at Senator Teigen, standing by quietly. “Chuck, maybe you should step out.”

“Of course.” The senator turned to give them privacy, but Lacey stopped him.

“Please stay. If you're going to help, you'll need to know all the details.” She directed everyone's attention back to the screen. “Jeffrey was helping Wade investigate.” She nodded to the computer. “This was all his research. He found the divorce papers and these newspaper clippings. It seems he was also collecting his evidence and writing a book called
A Russian Spy at an American Racetrack
, so that might be what contributed to his death, if the wrong person found out. But regardless, we are now dodging bullets, and Wade really doesn't want to add any more targets for them to aim at.”

“I see.”

“Do you, Clay?” Wade asked. “Because by us being here we have put you in harm's way.”

“Don't you worry about me, son. I'm just torn to shreds that you have lived with this alone for so long. How long have you known, exactly?”

“I found some incriminating evidence when I was eighteen in one of Mom's secret rooms. I left shortly after for the army.”

“That long? Man, Wade, I wish you would have come to me then. You know I would have helped you put this together if that's what you wanted.”

“I couldn't. I was still too scared from when I told a man under the grandstand something my mother didn't want known. Four hours later, she and Dad and Luke were dead. I couldn't lose another family member.”

“Wade, your parents' death was an accident. You can't blame yourself for that day.”

“But what if it wasn't an accident? What if someone killed them?”

“I'd say you're talking nonsense, but I will say if Meredith was involved in criminal activity, it would be grounds for divorce. Bobby never told me why he was filing. He just said he had to. Now I see why.”

“Dad must have found out his wife was into something illegal and dangerous.”

“So then, what changed his mind about the divorce?” Lacey asked.

“Or rather, who?” Clay said.

“What do you mean?” Lacey and Wade asked simultaneously.

Clay walked to the window and lifted the curtain's edge. He peered out into the darkness for a minute before dropping it back into place. He stepped back to his chair and slouched down in it. “You mentioned that you hadn't seen your grandfather since Luke's birth, but you're wrong. He came for a quick visit a week before they died. When I say quick, I mean it. Like less than an hour. I took you kids out for some ice cream. When I got back he was gone, and the divorce was off. Whatever he'd said to them changed Bobby's mind.”

“Or whatever he'd threatened did,” Wade said.

Promise let out a loud bark and ran to the window Clay had just looked out.

“Promise, sit and shush,” Wade instructed.

Lacey knelt from where she stood and called Promise to come to her. “Wade, she barely ever barks unless she has a reason to. She's upset about some—”

Lacey never finished her sentence because blasts came through the window, blowing the curtain up to the ceiling and spraying glass all over the room. Bullets lodged in the wall, right behind the spot Lacey had been standing in before she knelt to call Promise.

She threw herself flat to the floor, stunned, as the other three men followed her down, as well.

They'd been found again. And the gate had failed to keep them safe.

Wade crawled across the floor toward Lacey. She grabbed hold of his reaching arms and pulled her belly across the floor to meet him.

“Were you hit?” he asked, pressed against her ear. His voice cracked and all she could do was look at the hole in the wall and shake her head. Her throat was so tight with fear no words could be formed, just moving lips of silence.

Her fingers pressed deep into his back as Wade pressed his cheek against hers. “I don't know how much more I can take of this, Lacey. It's getting harder every time watching you go down because of me. This has to end. Right now.” Abruptly, Wade jumped to his feet, leaving her grasping for him in the cold, vacant place he left behind. “Stay down,” he commanded as he drew his gun and lurched right through the hanging drape and out the busted-open window.

A gun exploded into the night from behind the curtain. The image of the bullet finding Wade and killing him had Lacey finally finding her voice. “No!”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A
bullet whizzed past the top of Wade's head and hit the brick chimney behind him. Stone and mortar crumbled down on him. He dared not move from his crouched place in the hedge, not even to brush away the brick pieces from his shoulders. With arms outstretched, gun cocked and ready, Wade surveyed the scene for his next move. Running out blind would only get him killed.

The barking of the neighbors' dogs wasn't helping his focus. Deep howls and high-pitched yaps sang in a canine chorus up and down the street. The gunman probably hadn't thought about what shooting off a round of bullets would do in a small town. Out on the mountaintop nobody heard a thing, but in the village of Norcastle, people would be nosy. Wade gave it another sixty seconds before he heard sirens. That meant he had less than that to catch this guy before he disappeared into the moonless night.

Wade scanned the tree line. When he and Lacey had arrived at Clay's house, Wade had thought he'd heard something rustling in the trees. He'd chalked it up to a breeze. After all, how could anyone get past the gate, and how could they know they were here in the first place?

Simple, Wade thought. They still had a trace on them.

He didn't know how, but the gunman was going to squawk—right after Wade tracked him down.

The hedge to his right was eight feet away. He would probably be able to make it, but the move was too logical. The guy would be expecting him to make the attempt to reach it for cover. Wade needed another strategy, one less obvious.

Wade looked to his left. Jeff's spotting commands to Lacey to go left flashed in his mind. But it was twelve feet of open space to the corner of the house where the porch jutted out and rounded to the front. The small bushes there wouldn't be enough to hide behind. Going left didn't appear to be an option. Then he spotted another alternative.

A large metal shovel leaned against the porch. Clay's snow-removal service must have left it there when they shoveled the walk last. Didn't matter, Wade thought. The thing screamed metal shield. Just what he needed to cover him,
if
he could make it to the porch to grab it.

He didn't wait for a count but made the dash. Just as expected, bullets spattered against the house in a trail behind him. He took the last five feet in the air with a vertical leap, grabbing the handle of the shovel as he flew by it.

Wade landed and rolled back on his feet with the shovel upside down in front of his chest and face. He ran right for the trees, the direction the bullets had come from, a bonus of allowing the guy to get off a few shots. Now Wade knew where to run.

In an unpredictable zigzag motion, Wade raced forward and spotted the guy heading downhill. A car's engine started up off in the distance somewhere beyond the gate. He kept his eye on the gunman and soon was close enough to lose the shovel. With his empty hand he grabbed the back collar of a heavyset man, tackled him to the ground and disarmed him.

Wade had him on his back with the gun to his head just as sirens filled the night.

Sixty seconds, just as he'd thought.

The car he'd heard start a few seconds ago spun off from its hiding place below.

“Looks as if your getaway got away without you,” Wade said to the angry face below him. It was the same man from the train station, the same one who had grabbed Lacey. “You're all alone with no one to help you now, Pudgy. I suggest you start talking. Perhaps the law will go easy on you if you do. All I want to know is who you work for.”

The guy slammed his head into Wade's. Eye-blinding pain radiated out from Wade's head, but he held fast. He rammed his forearm under the man's chin to hold him down but quickly noticed white foam bubbling out of the man's mouth. The gurgling sounds and the way the man's black eyes widened and rolled to the back of his head told Wade the man just took his own life.

Wade jumped off him in confusion and shock. The guy must have had some sort of pill lodged in his mouth. When he'd butted his forehead, the impact had dislodged it so he could ingest it.

Wade flipped the guy over. “Spit it out!” he yelled. “Nothing is worth this. Not even your boss. Your life is worth more than this.”

Police cars screamed up the hill to the house, but Wade barely registered their approach. He hadn't even heard the gates open in his frenzy to shake the pill from the man's mouth. Clay must have opened them from inside.

Wade released the dead man and rolled onto his back with his forearm over his eyes. He pushed hard to try to erase the image, as if that ever worked. How many times would he have to watch another death?

When an officer appeared above him, Wade sat up but pushed him off.

“Wade, is that you?” It was a woman officer. She shone her flashlight on him. “What's going on here? More shooting?”

Wade opened his eyes and found Chief Sylvie Laurent crouched down by the dead body, her blond hair pulled tight into a bun. She and Wade had gone to school together but Wade barely knew her. Sylvie had grown up literally on the other side of the tracks. Not that Wade would ever let that determine who his friends were. The fact was, Wade had chosen to be a loner for other reasons than money. But he was pretty sure Sylvie didn't know that. She probably figured Wade was the rich snob her family worked for at the track who was too good for them. Little did she know he envied her family the few times he saw them working together. Her brother raced; she was part of his pit crew. Even her son helped out on race days. Wade figured she would be the first to say the racetrack had given her the courage to go after the chief of police job. Wade thought that under different circumstances, Lacey would have gotten along well with Norcastle's chief.

Chief Laurent reached for the dead guy's neck to take a pulse.

“Don't bother,” Wade said. “He's dead.

“I see that. Did you shoot him?”

“Nope. You won't find a bullet hole on him anywhere. At least not a fresh one. He took his own life. Had some sort of capsule ready to do the deed if I should catch him trying to take us out. It would appear the guy's reality scared him more than death.” Wade pushed to his feet and looked down at the man who gave nothing about that reality away. Not even a name. “He wasn't working alone. He was sent to kill us, but I have no idea by whom.”

Paramedics and police stepped in to evaluate the body and begin to process the scene. Their night had just become a long one. Wade didn't envy them, but that didn't mean he meant to stay out here another second.

A glance at the busted window showed curtains blowing a little from the cold wind. Behind them Lacey waited for word.

She waited for him.

Somehow, the idea brought him comfort, and his feet moved toward her faster.

“Where you going, Spencer?” the chief called out.

“I need to tell everyone it's all clear,” Wade replied without a backward glance.

The pull to be near Lacey in this moment was stronger than any pull he'd ever felt. Maybe it was because another person had died in front of him. Maybe he knew she was frightened, and he wanted to ease her fear. Either of those responses would be legit. But deep down, Wade knew he wanted to be near her for completely selfish reasons. He wanted her in his arms. He wanted to feel her heartbeat against him. He wanted the vibrant evidence of life she exemplified in everything crazy and impulsive she did. Lacey in his arms, where she was safe and sound, where he could breathe her in and fill himself with everything she was, suddenly became the most important thing in the world to him.

Wade walked to the broken window, but his racing heart wouldn't allow him to speak. The drape still hung, blocking his view to the inside. Would she still be down as he had commanded? Probably not, he thought, and his trembling lips curled in a smile at the idea of Lacey ever following orders.

Wade forced his lips to form a whistle so he could alert Promise to come to the window, but before he made a sound, he heard Lacey speak.

“I should go home,” she said.

The words knocked the whistle out of Wade. Yes, it was what he had been saying to her from the beginning. Yes, it was the smart thing for her to do. And yes, he wanted her safe.

But...

But nothing. It was for the best that she did go home. He had nothing to offer her but a life of pain. If he really wanted her safe, then she had no business being near him.

Finally, the girl was making sense. She should go home.

So why did this idea cut him down faster than the car that took down his family?

But then, what was one more pain anyway?

* * *

“I should go home?” Lacey said again, trying to wrap her mind around Clay's suggestion.

“Yes, Lacey, you should.” Clay reached to rub Promise's head.

Promise grumbled and moved closer to Lacey, where she sat on the floor in the same place she'd gone down at the first gunshots. Even when more shots went off, and all she wanted to do was run out after Wade, she stayed put. Going after him would make his job harder if he had to protect her at the same time he apprehended the gunman. And he
would
apprehend the man. She had to believe that.

The sirens had sounded like music to her ears. Senator Teigen had already called the police before, but a neighbor or two must have heard the shots and called, as well.

Promise growled again and Lacey reached to pet her. “She must want to be with Wade to help him. She's not normally like this. She's usually so sweet.”

Clay guffawed. “Sweet? She's a military dog. Trained to kill if she's commanded to. I wouldn't call her sweet.”

“Kill? Promise? No, she's a service animal. She's trained to be gentle and attentive, to assist her soldier in everyday life skills. She can flip light switches and wake him from nightmares. She can even bring Wade his shoes, if need be. She's so good for him, and speaking of him, where is he? He should be coming back in for us. Do you think he was hurt? Maybe we should go out there.”

“I'm sure the police need his help right now. He's also trained to kill and will know what to do with this gunman. That's why I really think you need to go home. You're a good girl, Lacey. I would hate to see you get hurt in all this mess.”

“Going home will make me feel as if I'm bailing on Wade. My brother already bailed on him. I don't want to, also. I want to help him.”

“Do you love him? Is that what this is about? You're setting yourself up for a world of hurt, if that's the case. Wade's incapable of loving you back.”

“I don't love him,” Lacey said with a little too much force, even to her own ears.

“Good.” Wade interrupted the conversation as he stepped into the room. “Keep it that way.”

He bypassed her on the floor and went straight to the laptop, pushing Senator Teigen out of the way. Slowly she got to her feet to see him downloading the files from the USB to the laptop. When they'd been copied over, he disengaged the USB drive, turned the butt of his gun over and smashed the drive to pieces.

“What are you doing?” Lacey raced to his side. “That's Jeff's!”

“Exactly. I should never have trusted your brother in the first place. He turned on me, and now I've got criminals showing up in places trying to take us out. They're tracking us somehow. It can't be our phones, and it can't be my watch. What else is there but the USB drive your brother,
the traitor
, created.”

Lacey locked eyes on the tiny pieces. Guilt filled her because of her brother's actions. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not your offense to be sorry for, but it is the one you're paying for. You should be just as angry with him.” Wade slammed the laptop cover down and lifted it under his arm. “The police need to see the files, and they'll help you get home. This trek together is over.” Wade turned his back on her and lifted his duffel bag. “Clay, can I take your Lexus when I leave? I have some things I want to check out, and I can't take Jeff's car. Who knows if he installed a tracker on that, too.”

“You don't want any of my cars, then. All of mine have locaters on them.”

“Right.” Wade gave a whistle and Promise sidled up beside him. The two walked toward the exit, side by side.

“I thought you said you would never leave another person behind?” she shouted just as the door opened. Wade paused on the threshold.

“I'm leaving you where you're safe. That's different.” With that, Wade walked through, closing the door behind him.

Lacey took off to chase him down. Clay reached a hand to stop her, but she shook it off. She would not be left behind. Down the steps and past Clay's black Lexus Sport, she ran straight into the teams of authorities processing the scene. She saw Wade with the laptop open, sharing the files with a few plainclothes detectives.

Then Lacey noticed the cloth covering a mound on the grass. Only that wasn't a mound. It was a body.

The gunman was dead? Why hadn't Wade told them?

A wave of nausea rolled through Lacey's stomach. She studied Wade's profile in the laptop lighting and knew what this meant.

He'd killed the man.

Her steps slowed as she passed the body. Bile rose in her throat. Knowing the act was a matter of self-defense didn't make accepting it any easier. She looked at Wade and wondered what would this do to him. He claimed to cherish life, even though Clay said Wade was trained to kill. Lacey didn't believe for a second that each death didn't affect him. No death was inconsequential, no matter whose side they were on.

Which meant this death would be another injury to Wade's already wounded mind and body.

“It's not your fault,” she said from her place by the deceased. The detectives and Wade stopped their discussion and looked at her over the screen. “It's not your fault. You did what you had to do to protect innocent people.” She stepped up to him, her eyes locked on his. She hoped no judgment or fear shone out at him.
God, stay with me while I give him Your grace.
“None of them were your fault, Wade. None of them.”