The Right Call (30 page)

“What if they shot him? What if they killed him just like they killed Drew? Lord, please don’t let this happen!” Vanessa started to sob. “Don’t let Ethan die. I’ve never loved anyone this way. Please don’t let him die.”

Chapter 36

Brill
got out of her squad car, glad for the towering trees that lined both sides of Azalea Lane, their branches meeting in the middle and creating a green, leafy canopy overhead.

She walked toward the cottage-style house she and Kurt fell in love with the moment they saw it. Had they really lived here two years? It seemed like only yesterday she was telling the movers where to put the mountain of boxes that contained what was left of her life—and wondering if she had made a big mistake pulling up her roots and transplanting them to the other end of the state.

Who driving by would ever guess the suffering her family had endured in the privacy of these walls? And yet hadn’t the Lord used every heartache to His glory? Wasn’t her marriage stronger? Her family closer? Her faith unshakable?

Vanessa had matured in every way since Carter was born. But could she handle losing both men she loved in less than a year’s time?

Lord, You’re in control. I trust You. But I’m scared to death for Vanessa if Ethan’s dead.

Brill put her hand on the knob and took a slow, deep breath. She opened the door and was greeted with a gust of cold air and the fragrance of this week’s roses.

In the next instant Kurt’s arms were around her, and she let herself rest in the blanket of his comfort and strength, regretting she could only stay a few minutes.

“Rachel is out in the kitchen,” Kurt said. “Vanessa’s upstairs.”

“How is she?”

Kurt pulled her a little closer and kissed the top of her head. “How would you be? She won’t let Carter out of her sight. Emily won’t either and didn’t argue about calling Jasmine and telling her we’d make ice cream another time.”

“Thanks. It’s just until the threat is over.”
Over?
Unless she could make a solid case against Win Davison, would it ever be over?

“Tessa and Antonio insisted on being here as planned,” Kurt said. “They will take care of serving dinner and cleaning up, and gladly play Monopoly with Emily and whoever else wants to join them.”

Brill smiled. “They’re such a blessing. What would we do without them?”

“They’ve sure held us together a few times when we were coming apart at the seams. How are
you
doing?”

“I really have a bad feeling about Ethan. I heard
five
gunshots before the phone went dead. If Stedman’s right, Davison’s a desperate man who’s on the brink of losing his precious empire. He’ll stop at nothing.”

“You think he’s serious about this threat to come after Vanessa and Carter?”

Brill pushed back and looked into Kurt’s eyes and saw her own fear staring back at her. “I’m not taking any chances. Let me go give Vanessa a hug, and then I have to get back. I need to meet Sam Parker in his office in fifteen minutes.”

“How’re you two getting along?”

“I put up with a lot from Sam. But he’s good at what he does. There’s no question I need his help. I’m going to ask him to question Win Davison. Davison has a chip on his shoulder when it comes to me. Sam’s known him for years and knows how to turn on the charm before he goes for the jugular. The two of them should have an interesting time trying to manipulate each other.”

Ethan crouched down behind two large boulders, clutching tightly to Stedman’s gun, his hands shaking, his hope dwindling. How did Davison’s henchman know how to find them? Ethan was so sure he hadn’t been followed.

Stedman lay in a heap on the flat rock where he and Ethan had sat talking to Brill just minutes before, blood pooled under his left shoulder and streaming into the water.

Ethan now understood how desolate Vanessa felt in those moments after Drew had been shot and killed. What should he do? The forest would start getting dark as soon as the sun dipped lower into the afternoon sky. He thought of Stedman’s grandmother and wondered how she would take the news.

The sound of the fast-moving water made it difficult to hear twigs snapping, leaves rustling—anything that would alert him that someone was approaching.

Lord, how could this happen? I was so sure You wanted me to help Stedman. Why didn’t You just close that door? Why did You let me walk through it and fail?

He thought of Vanessa and the joy they had felt after voicing their feelings for each other. Would he ever see her again? Hold her in his arms? Would they have the chance to let their love grow and see where it would take them? Not until this moment had he ever seriously considered his own death and how it might come. This was certainly not what he would have chosen—and not at twenty-one.

Lord, if I’m going to die, at least help Brill put Drew’s killer behind bars. Don’t let our deaths be for nothing. And help Vanessa. Don’t let her get bitter. Don’t let it change the sweet person she is.

Ethan blinked the stinging from his eyes. He couldn’t imagine Vanessa as a bitter person, but how could she accept his death, especially after losing Ty? He tightened his grip on the gun, glad Stedman had put in a new clip. He might have to shoot his way out of here, but it would only be for show. He had never handled a firearm other than a hunting rifle.

What if he ended up face-to-face with the guy who killed Stedman? Could he even pull the trigger? Ending someone’s life probably wasn’t nearly as difficult as living with having done it. Did he want to be saddled with that burden? Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.

He stared at the water crashing against the rocks, then moved his gaze to Stedman’s body—and did a double take. Stedman’s eyes were open! He was looking around as if trying to figure out what had happened.

Ethan waved, then put his finger to his lips, hoping Stedman wouldn’t call out. He climbed up on the flat rock and crawled over to where he lay.

“I thought you were dead, man. You’ve been shot. You were talking to Chief Jessup about being framed. If you remember, blink twice.”

Stedman blinked two times.

“Okay, don’t talk. Just listen. I know it’s hard to hear with the sound of the water. You’ve been shot in the arm, and I need to see how serious it is. But we need to get out of the open. Whoever shot you probably used a rifle with a scope. If I help steady you, do you think you can make it over to those trees?”

Stedman hesitated, then nodded.

“This is going to hurt, but we need to move quickly.” Ethan stood and took Stedman’s good arm and pulled him to his feet and then caught him just as he gasped and almost lost his footing.

He wrapped Stedman’s uninjured arm around his neck and helped him across the rocks and onto the bank, then lowered him gently to the ground at the edge of the forest, resting his back against a tree.

Stedman screamed without opening his mouth, his face covered in beads of sweat.

“Let me take a look at the wound,” Ethan said. “I’ll try not to hurt you. Just relax.”

He laid down the gun and gingerly examined Stedman’s arm.

“Looks like the bullet went all the way through your upper arm and came out the other side. The bleeding is already slowing down. I think you’re going to be all right, but I need to get you to a hospital.”

“Man, it hurts.” Stedman winced, his breathing rapid.

Ethan unbuttoned his golf shirt. “This will do for a bandage. It’s not sterile, but it’s safer than leaving the wound exposed.”

He took off the shirt and wrapped it gently but snugly around Stedman’s bicep. “That should help stop the bleeding. I need to cut your T-shirt off you and make a sling.”

Ethan took out his pocketknife and carefully cut Stedman’s T-shirt, pulling it away from his wounded shoulder, and then slid the shirt off over his head. He ripped it into strips and tied them together to form a sling, then ever so carefully tightened the sling around Stedman’s neck until the wounded arm was secured.

“There,” Ethan said. “Nice and snug. Your arm won’t hurt as much if you’re not moving it.”

“Thanks …” Stedman’s voice was barely audible.

Ethan sized up the situation for a moment. Did he really want to leave Stedman behind with the shooter out there somewhere? Would he be able to find his way out of the woods—or be able to lead a rescue team back in? He had to try.

Lord, help me! I’m so turned around.

Ethan glanced at his watch. “Stedman, I have to make a decision. I don’t think you’re strong enough to walk out of here. I need to go for help. And I need to do it while it’s light enough for me to find my way out of these woods.”

“I’m going with you.”

“It’s too risky. You could die.”

Stedman grabbed his wrist and locked gazes with him. “It’s risky either way. If you get lost … we could
both
die.”

Brill sat next to Trent at the round table in Sam Parker’s office. Sam sat across from her, his bushy white eyebrows arched, a toothpick stuck between his lips.

“That’s quite an allegation,” Sam said. “Even if it’s true, there’s not a shred of proof. If you go get Win Davison and bring him in, he’ll lawyer up and be back on the lake in less than an hour.”

“That’s why I think we have to play this carefully.” Brill folded her arms on the table. “You have a relationship with Win. I don’t. I’ll never get him down here to answer questions without a lawyer present. The only way that’s going to happen is if we work together.”

“Define
work together,
Chief Jessup.”

“I need you to think of a way to get Win to come in and talk to us. And I’d like you to conduct the interview.”

Sam looked over the top of his glasses. “Are you suggesting I should take the lead on this?”

“Actually I’m
asking
you to.”

Sam sat back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. “Well now, that’s a surprise. You’re willing to let me do things
my
way?”

Brill could almost feel Trent bristling. “This is not about turf. It’s about justice. I believe Win Davison might be responsible for the murders of six people, beginning with Tal. Grant Wolski knew about Paulson McGiver’s murder, and Nashville PD confirmed it. Cynthia Davison admits to having an affair with McGiver and knowing that he was Tal’s biological father. Everything Stedman said is falling into place. I think we have to consider Win Davison our prime suspect. Let’s hope Ethan and Stedman aren’t two more of his victims. I don’t care how powerful he is. He needs to be knocked off his throne and locked up.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “And you think I’m powerful enough to get it done?”

“You’re cunning. And right now we need a fox, not a lion.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Sam tapped his fingers on the table and seemed to be thinking.

“You’re very good at what you do, Sam. I need to know if you’re with me on this.”

Trent shifted his weight.

Sam plucked the toothpick from between his lips. “I suppose I could pretend to take the bait planted in Grant Wolski’s vehicle and tell Win that we’re currently interrogatin’ the man we believe is responsible for the shootings and the hit and run. Technically, that’ll be true, won’t it?” Sam laughed. “I’m all for lettin’ him think we took the bait and have Stedman Reeves in custody.”

“Good. How soon can you pick him up?”

“Assumin’ he’s at his lake house, twenty minutes.”

Brill stood. “I’ll stay out of your way. I would like to observe the questioning, if that’s all right with you.”

“No problem.” Sam put his palms on the table and rose to his feet, standing a foot taller than Brill. “Y’all know that if Win framed Reeves, he likely did an airtight job of it. Reeves is the perfect patsy. He’s a gamblin’ junkie who admittedly agreed to whack a guy to pay off a bad bet in an illegal game. His court-appointed attorney won’t be any match for Win Davison’s—assumin’ it ever gets that far. We may never get this thing off the ground.”

“Thanks for agreeing to try. And just so you know, this is personal. My daughter Vanessa is in love with Ethan Langley, who’s one of the finest young men I’ve ever known.”

Brill felt emotion tighten her throat. Had Sam noticed? All she needed was for him to patronize her now—when she felt the most vulnerable.

Sam seemed to study her, and the tautness left his face. He walked around the table and stood facing her.