Dangerous Lies (Badge of Honor #2)

Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

Megan trembled against him. She clutched the crowbar as if it could shield her from the bones scattered on the floor. Jax eased her aside and crouched down to examine the remains. The skull had a giant hole in the back. A bullet wound, if he had to hazard an educated guess.

The body had been here a while. Long enough for bugs and scavenger animals to pick the bones clean, despite the fact that it’d been stuffed in a storage ledge. Tattered clothes clung to the skeleton. A jacket and blue jeans. Among the rotting wood and bones was a wallet. Using the barrel of his gun, Jax flipped it open.

His body went ice cold as he read the name on the driver’s license.

Megan crouched beside him. Her light vanilla perfume was a welcome relief from the stench of the decay and mold. She gasped. “It’s Zeke.” Megan shook her head. “That’s impossible. I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Jax’s mind raced as he struggled to make sense of everything he knew. Pain from the bullet wound, and the subsequent blood loss, clouded his thinking. “He never answered our calls. No social media. No job history. No one has seen or heard from him in ten years—not his friends, not his neighbors. Only his family.”

Cody’s warning came rushing back. Leave Zeke alone. His threats. His desperation.

Jax exhaled. “Cody’s been cashing Zeke’s military disability checks. Maybe splitting the money with his mother. That’s why they never reported Zeke missing. It’s also why they didn’t want us looking for him.”

Megan blinked. “But… if Zeke has been dead all this time, then who’s been trying to kill me?”

Jax’s pulse hammered as everything snapped into place. “The cases were always connected—Oliver’s death and the threats against you.” The puzzle pieces that had refused to fit before were shifting, aligning into something terrible. “Oliver turned on Zeke. He was feeding information to the sheriff’s department. Why would he agree to meet Zeke in a secluded location?”

“He wouldn’t,” Megan whispered.

“No. He wouldn’t.” Jax’s thoughts raced. “Oliver ran that night. He was terrified, said someone was trying to kill him. You said he had a scuff on his chin, his jacket was missing. There was a fight. Why?” He could see it now, as if watching it unfold in real time. “He arrived at the barn and walked in on a murder. He fought with the killer—then ran, desperate, and called you for help.”

“In the car on the night of the accident, Oliver said ‘I shouldn’t have trusted him.’” Megan grabbed Jax’s arm. “It’s someone close to you. To your family. Someone Oliver confided in.” Her gaze dropped to the skeleton at their feet. “Someone who killed Zeke in a misguided attempt to protect Oliver. Or help him somehow.”

Jax reached into his jacket pocket, wincing as a bolt of pain shot through his injured shoulder. He pulled out the photograph. The one that had been left behind like a taunt. “The killer had this. A picture from Oliver’s teenage years. He stole Wesley’s identity, opened credit cards in his name, and bought the drone. He framed my brother for the attacks on you.”

Megan’s eyes widened. “He hates Wesley.” Her breath came faster. “He… he hates you. During the first drone attack, he shot at the boathouse. I thought it was to create a distraction, but it wasn’t. He was aiming for you .”

The truth coiled like a viper around his chest as the final missing piece clicked into place.

Jax stilled.

He knew who the killer was.

A creak echoed through the barn.

Megan’s heart leaped into her throat. She flicked off the flashlight on her phone. Darkness swallowed the room, hiding the skeleton at their feet. But it also deepened the terror clawing through her.

The scrape of a boot against cement was followed by the birds fluttering in the rafters. Someone was definitely in the barn with them. Megan’s fingers tightened around the crowbar, her grip so fierce that the metal bit into her palm. She pressed closer to Jax, laying a hand on his back. His muscles were rock solid beneath her touch, his attention focused on the door, gun raised and ready.

“Yoo-hoo. Jax and Megan.” The tone was singsong and laced with dark amusement. “I know you’re in here. Come out, come out.”

She smothered a gasp at the familiar voice. No. It couldn’t be.

But it was.

Her colleague. Her friend.

Oliver’s friend.

Douglas O’Neal.

A violent shiver wracked her. She’d worked side by side with Douglas since taking the job at Clearview Counseling. They’d shared lunches, swapped case notes, and debated therapy techniques. Just this morning, he’d returned her call about Quinton, assuring her the young man was likely struggling with family issues, but he’d check in on him.

She’d prayed for his mother, who was supposedly in the ICU.

Was she even sick?

Everything Megan thought she knew about Douglas disintegrated. He was a liar. He’d sent her terrifying emails and then worked alongside her, knowing how scared she was. Douglas had attacked her in the woods. He’d tried to kill her with a drone. And yet, he’d smiled and treated her like a friend at the NA meeting. It was beyond duplicitous. It was twisted and sick.

Jax stepped back, forcing Megan with him. Then again. She realized he was guiding her toward the exit door at the rear of the storage room. It meant running back out into the storm, but anything was better than being trapped with a killer.

And Douglas was a killer.

He’d killed Zeke. Oliver. Maybe even others.

Megan’s heel knocked against something on the floor. Zeke’s bones? Smothering a shudder, she kept her footsteps light as she eased toward the exit. Jax stepped in perfect sync with her, his gun steady, shielding her body with his own.

“Jax, don’t be stupid. You and Megan can’t escape.” Douglas’s voice floated through the barn, smooth and confident. “I have a sniper watching the exits. You won’t make it into the woods without being shot.”

Megan froze. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She rose onto her tiptoes, whispering in Jax’s ear. “Quinton.”

She didn’t know how, but deep down, she knew Douglas had manipulated Quinton into doing his bidding. That was why there were no recent notes in his file. The signs had been there all along. Quinton had confronted her at the coffee shop, pressing her about Oliver’s death. Showing up at her office, desperate to talk to Tess, torn apart because someone he trusted had asked him to do something that was wrong , but also right.

Douglas convinced Quinton that Megan had killed Oliver and gotten away with it. And for that, she had to die.

Quinton had bought a gun.

Fear tasted bitter in Megan’s mouth as the full realization of what they were dealing with crashed over her. There was a murderer in the barn and a potential killer outside.

They were trapped.

Dear God above, what do we do now?