One Little Lie Read online

  If Reid was involved, he’d turn over every stone to help her. And her mother loved Harry. People were looking for them. She had to keep Harry calm until they found them.

  The door opened again, and a cold voice said, “We’re moving you. Don’t scream for help, or I’ll kill the boy.”

  Thirty-Two

  Jane wanted to be out scouring the countryside for Harry, but there were no clues on where to look. She sat at her desk with the stench of burned coffee wafting from her cup. Will was in the conference room playing an online video game on a spare computer, and Reid lounged with his legs out in the chair opposite her. Parker rose and stretched, then lay back down again at her feet.

  They were all frazzled and exhausted. In a short time, the three of them had come to love little Harry, and his abduction brought back the horrible feelings she’d had when she learned her baby had died. Tears hovered near, and she only kept them at bay by forcing herself to concentrate on her computer screen.

  Reid grimaced at the coffee he swallowed. “It all goes back to Gary’s death. It has to. First Fanny and now Harry. What does the abductor want? If we can figure that out, we might find them.”

  She nodded and rubbed her aching left temple. “And could Nicole’s death be related at all? She seemed to have been targeted by the vigilante, and her death was more manslaughter than murder, but what if it’s connected?” She shook her head. “There was no Kennedy half-dollar left, but maybe he was scared off too soon.”

  “Who’s working the vigilante cases?”

  “Brian was heading them up, but he’s been busy with Gary’s murder. I’m sure Dad looked into them some too. He was a very hands-on chief.” She called up the vigilante file and began to pore over it.

  Her headache eased a bit as she studied the various cases. “Huh, this is interesting. Fanny gave me a list of her friends who might have known about Gary’s arrest for embezzlement. When I put it beside other victims of the vigilante, Elizabeth’s name pops up. They were all part of a cooking club.”

  Reid rose and went to look at the computer over her shoulder. “And we know she lied about Sunday.”

  She studied the list again. The cooking group was comprised of all women, and Elizabeth’s name was the only one she recognized.

  “How well do you know Elizabeth?”

  “She’s been with Dad for ten years. Strangely enough, he met her when she got out of jail.”

  “You mentioned she had a parole officer. What did she do?”

  “She killed her abusive husband. Dad said she never should have been charged because the whole town knew he’d used her for a punching bag for years, but the trial had a change of venue to Mobile, and jurors didn’t know how mean Gus was. She was found guilty of manslaughter and not murder, and the judge only sentenced her to two years, but she shouldn’t have gone to jail at all.”

  “Does she carry a grudge about it?”

  Jane thought about it. “I’ve heard her get upset about people getting off for much more serious crimes, but I don’t know that I’d call it a grudge. I really should talk to her again.”

  Reid rose and stretched. “I’m famished, and you need to eat. We can take a quick break at the Irish pub.”

  She wanted to keep searching, but he was right. The words were running together, and she was finding it hard to focus. Food might help.

  * * *

  Mac’s Irish Pub was packed for a Tuesday night, but Reid had managed to score a back-corner spot away from the hubbub. He was starving.

  Jane glanced at her watch, then looked out the window toward her office in the twilight. “I really can’t be gone long.” She’d left Parker sleeping in her office.

  “You have to eat.” Reid hadn’t liked how much coffee she’d downed all afternoon without any food. He’d tried to get her to eat a sub sandwich, but it had stayed on her desk half open. The only way to get food in her was to get her away from her computer.

  Will sniffed the air. “It smells great in here. I can’t remember the last time we had Irish food. What’s good?” He glanced at Jane expectantly.

  She pushed the menu away unopened. “I always get the shepherd’s pie. And they have homemade root beer.” The server approached, and she gave him her order.

  Reid stacked his menu on top of hers. “I’m going to get that too.”

  “I think I’ll have the Irish lamb stew and root beer.” Will stacked his menu, too, then handed the three to the server.

  The ambiance of the place was a fun, Irish vibe with signed dollar bills all over the walls and ceiling. The wide plank floors and heavy wooden tables and chairs gave it an Old World appeal. The servers wore green, and the delicious aromas of meat, garlic, and potatoes made Reid’s stomach rumble. He hadn’t eaten much more than Jane, though he’d choked down half of his sub sandwich.

  The server brought their drinks, and Will grabbed his root beer and took a long swig. “Ah, it’s great.” He leaned forward and fixed Reid with a stare. “You think she’s done?”

  It took a few seconds for his comment to register. Reid shrugged. “I don’t know, son. I never would have expected Lauren to pop up this way and demand money, so I can’t predict what she’ll do.”

  “You should get an attorney, just in case she doesn’t back off.” Jane stood. “Scott Foster is sitting right over there by himself. I’ll ask him to join us. I won’t say anything about your situation. You can just evaluate whether you’d like his help. No pressure.”

  Reid watched her approach a small table in the corner and speak to a man in a gray suit with an erect posture and kind eyes. The guy stood and grabbed his briefcase from the table before he followed her back to their table with his drink in hand.

  “Scott, this is Reid and Will Dixon. Guys, this is my dad’s oldest friend and my godfather.”

  They shook hands and murmured platitudes before Scott pulled out one of the chairs and joined them.

  One look told Reid why the name Scott Foster had seemed familiar. He’d been one of his father’s trusted advisors, just like Jane’s dad. A rock formed in the pit of Reid’s stomach, even though he was sure there was no way the guy would recognize him.

  “Have you spoken with your father?” Scott asked.

  Jane nodded. “I did.” She told him about trying to get to her father and convince him to give himself up. “Has he called you?”

  “Not since yesterday.” Scott took a drink of his root beer and eyed them over the rim of his glass. “He believed at first this was a planned plot to take him down. Yesterday he started talking about it being a distraction to what was really going on—that the adversary wanted the police too focused on his arrest and the murders so they didn’t figure out the real target.”

  Reid glanced at Jane, and she was frowning with the same bewilderment he felt. How could a federal indictment and a murder charge on top of it be merely a distraction? Maybe her father was delusional. He certainly wasn’t acting rational with his escape from his compound.

  She wiped the moisture from her mug of root beer. “Any idea what he meant?”

  “Not really. Honestly, I thought maybe he was paranoid. It had to be a shock to be accused of such heinous crimes when he’s spent his life bringing people to justice.”

  “I’m examining his files now to see what he was investigating before he retired.”

  Scott lifted a brow. “You believe him? He’s been acting very erratically.”

  “I know my dad, though, and he’d never kill someone. Or take money. That’s not his nature.”

  “Everyone has secrets, honey,” Scott said.

  “Elizabeth said the same thing. You know what secrets my dad has kept?”

  “Those are his to tell, not mine.” Scott drained his glass as the server brought their food.

  “From the cult? You were there too.”

  “Like I said, they are your dad’s secrets to tell or keep.”

  Reid exchanged a glance with Jane. Those who knew her dad best seemed to think the
re was something she should know, but no one was willing to tell her. Could Charles be sick? A brain tumor could explain his odd behavior, though Reid was probably jumping to conclusions. It might be as simple as wrestling with the horrendous lie Charles had told Jane when he’d dragged her from the compound.

  They fell silent except for thanking the server as he put their plates in front of them. Reid’s mouth watered at the sight and smell of the large shepherd’s pie in an iron skillet. The server promised to bring more drinks before he left them alone again.

  “Oh, before I forget.” Scott reached for his briefcase and opened it, then pulled out a greeting card envelope. “Happy birthday, Jane. I know it’s not until tomorrow, but I wasn’t sure if I’d see you with so much happening.” He handed it to her.

  “Thank you, Scott. It’s very sweet of you.” She opened it, read the card, and extracted a gift card to a local golf course. “I haven’t had a chance to play in over a month, but I’ll put this to good use.”

  So she loved golf. Reid never would have guessed.

  “My birthday is tomorrow too,” Will said.

  Pain lodged in Jane’s eyes but she smiled. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share a birthday with.”

  “It’s pretty cool.”

  Reid’s fingers closed around his fork, and he prayed for the conversation to change. The last thing he needed was for Will to jump to the right conclusion, but it might have already happened. He could see the wheels turning on his boy’s face.

  Jane picked up her spoon. “Are you planning to do anything fun?”

  “Dad took me on an early shrimping trip. You might not think it was fun, but it was great. I might talk him into another outing.”

  “I always liked to go fishing with my dad. We haven’t gone in a while.”

  Jane’s phone rang, and she picked it up. Her smile faded. “It’s Dad.”

  Thirty-Three

  The gate to Fort Morgan was closed, but Jane directed Reid to park anyway. “We can duck under it.”

  It didn’t surprise her that her dad has chosen this place to meet. Out on the tip of Mobile Point on the Gulf Shores peninsula, the old fort had seen its fair share of battles during the Civil War and even more battles during the incarnation before when it was Fort Bowyer during the War of 1812. The pentagonal-shaped masonry fort had been the site of fun days with her dad when they’d first moved here. She loved wandering through the batteries and corridors. It closed at five, but she knew her way around the point well. The corner bastions rose protectively above the masonry walls.

  Scott had opted to come with them. The four of them got out of Reid’s SUV and ducked through the barricade to the fort. She’d put Parker on alert, and his head swiveled from shadow to shadow as she led them down to the beach. The point was dark tonight with clouds scudding across the moon.

  The four of them had bolted down dinner before coming out here to meet Dad. They still had a few minutes before his expected arrival at nine. She stared out over the dark water looking for a boat, but the only craft plying the waters tonight was a shrimping trawler heading out. He’d said to meet at the point, so she’d assumed he meant here and he’d be coming by boat, but maybe she’d misunderstood him.

  “The last time I was out here was right after the Deepwater Horizon spill,” Reid said. “Horrible, horrible tragedy, yet it’s all so beautiful now.”

  “Two thousand and ten,” Scott said. “The beaches came back, but we always worry about another oil spill.”

  Deepwater Horizon had been called the greatest ecological marine disaster in history, but there was little evidence of it now, a decade later. Jane hoped never to see black beaches like that again.

  Reid touched her elbow. “You doing okay?”

  “Yes.” She was surprised to hear her voice tremble. Maybe she wasn’t doing as well as she’d thought. This past week had been more than a nightmare.

  “Maybe your dad will turn himself in.”

  “I don’t think so. While he didn’t say what he wanted, his tone was flinty and determined. I think he might have information for me.”

  “About what?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  A flashlight beam back at the nearest fort bastion drew her attention. She pointed it out. “Look. Maybe that’s Dad.”

  “Or it could be a night watchman,” Scott said.

  “I have to find out. You all can stay here and wait to see if Dad comes.”

  She and Parker started for the fort, but Reid loped along beside her. “You should stay with Will.”

  “He’s fine with Scott. I don’t want you going in there alone. There are too many places for an ambush.”

  “My dad wouldn’t hurt me, and I’ve got Parker.”

  “Someone else might want to get you out of the way, and Parker is no match for a bullet.”

  True enough. She could tell he wasn’t going back so she picked up her speed and hurried to the fort, where she showed him a secret entrance she’d used for years. Their shoes crunched loudly on the ground and rocks in what seemed an eerie silence. An owl hooted somewhere, and Parker uttered a low growl at the sound. She put her hand on his head. The darkness made the fort seem ominous and scary, though she loved it in the daylight.

  “Do you see the light?” she whispered.

  “It’s gone. Should we call out for your dad?” His breath was warm against her ear, and she resisted the temptation to move closer to his comforting bulk.

  “Let’s wait a second.”

  His hand closed around hers, and she curled her fingers into his grip. She bit back a scream when a figure loomed from one of the batteries.

  She recognized her dad’s outline, and Parker’s tail wagged. “Dad, you scared me to death. You should have given me better instructions on where to meet you.”

  “I wasn’t sure if your phone was being monitored.”

  More paranoia or did he have a legitimate reason for his caution? “What’s this all about? You need to turn yourself in. Scott is here, too, and he can make sure you’re treated fairly.”

  Her dad snorted. “Fairness? I don’t think the guy who’s doing this cares about fairness.”

  “Who do you think is framing you?”

  He grabbed her arm and drew her into the darkness of one of the rooms used for storing ammo back in the day. The complete darkness enfolded her, and she reached out to find Reid’s steady grip. He was there instantly with a warm press of his fingers.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. Just trying to decide how much to tell you. I don’t want to immerse you in the mess if I don’t have to.”

  “You have to tell me all of it. This is too important to hide.”

  His sigh came from the darkness to her left. “Maybe so, maybe so. They took Harry, didn’t they?”

  The hair on the back of her neck prickled. “Harry, the senator’s grandson? That’s part of this?”

  “It’s part of everything.” His hard fingers closed on her arm in the darkness. “The senator is in danger. Don’t let her go anywhere to retrieve Harry or Fanny. It’s a setup.”

  This all sounded like a paranoid delusion to Jane. Why would the senator be in danger? The kidnapper hadn’t even asked anything of her yet. “Okay, I’ll check it out. But what about you? You need to turn yourself in.”

  “I can’t let you take me in. If you do, I’ll be found dead in a cell.”

  “Has someone attacked you?”

  “No, but I can’t go to jail.”

  More delusions? Jane didn’t know what to think.

  A call came from outside their enclosure. “You there! Show yourself and come out.”

  A guard. Jane turned toward the voice. All she had to do was explain, but before she could speak, a bullet zinged against the brick behind them, then zipped past her ear. It was no guard.

  “Get down!” Reid threw himself at her and tackled her to the stony ground.

  She heard her dad’s footstep moving to the entrance, and
seconds later, a scuffle sounded. She struggled to get up. Reid instantly released her, and she drew her gun to go after the shooter.

  “Take cover.” Crouching low with her gun at the ready, she moved out into the parade ground with Parker a few feet out in front of her.

  The moon had come out, its light giving a ghostly illumination to the open spaces and looming structure around the grounds. Where were her dad and the shooter? The grass was empty of bodies, and she saw no movement.

  “Dad?”

  Her phone dinged, and she glanced at the message from her father.

  Get out of there. You’re the next target.

  At least he’d escaped. She motioned for Reid to come with her, and she rushed to make sure Will and Scott were all right before she called the Gulf Shores police. This was their jurisdiction, and she wanted to make sure the attack was noted.

  Not that she had any idea who the shooter was or what was going on.

  * * *

  Later, Reid tossed and turned a long time before he went to sleep. Jane could have been killed tonight, and the thought left him clammy. He finally drifted off and awoke with a start at a noise. He rolled over and looked at the bedside clock: 2:00 a.m.

  His bedroom door stood ajar, and he saw the faint glimmer of light from downstairs. His bottomless pit of a son must be scrounging around in the kitchen for something to eat. Reid rose and went down the stairs. Instead of the kitchen light, he found the lamp on by the sofa in the living room. Will sat looking at pictures.

  Reid stopped and watched for a long moment. This whole thing had rattled his boy, and he wished there was some way to reassure him that life would be okay.

  Will glanced up and saw him. “Did I wake you?”

  Reid entered the room and dropped into the air chair opposite the sofa. “You couldn’t sleep? It was an eventful day.”

  “Yeah.” Will returned his gaze to the pictures in his hand. “I figured it out, Dad.”

  “Figured what out?”

  Will lifted his head again and locked gazes with Reid. “My mom. I know who she is. It’s Chief Hardy, isn’t it?”