Chapter Eleven
After a quick call from the garage, Dante had delivered the rental car to Gracie’s Grounds with a brand new set of tires to replace the slashed ones, as promised. Nick drove toward the Big House, wanting to talk with Douglas. He found himself thinking about Gracie, how she’d seem to glow as he’d told her how he saw her. All of it had been the truth, though he couldn’t understand why he’d just blurted it out like that. Yet he knew she needed to hear those words. It was obvious Brewster was targeting her, wanting her scared and isolated. Wanting her frightened, which also made her vulnerable.
She’d asked him to dinner. At her apartment. Maybe she needed a friend, but that wasn’t how he felt about Gracie. He wanted so much more, yet how could he even consider starting any kind of a relationship with her when there were so many roadblocks in their path? He lived halfway around the world away. There weren’t any plans for him to move to America. Visits—sure. He had a soft spot for Shiloh Springs, always had and probably always would. Douglas and Ms. Patti were here and they were a big part of his past, and he hoped they’d be a big part of his future too.
Then there was the danger stalking him. Gracie had enough on her plate now with Brewster. Nick didn’t feel he could bring more uncertainty and chaos into her life. Somebody wanted him dead. If he got involved with Gracie, it would put a target on her back. Was that fair to her?
What he felt for her was new. Intense. It hadn’t progressed past the infancy state, and if he was smart he’d smother it before it had a chance to become something more. The feelings were there, things he’d never felt for another woman. He knew if he gave it half a chance, it could become something amazing. And he wanted that more than almost anything. To have the kind of epic love story he’d imagined when he was a kid, during the nights when he’d wake up in a cold sweat screaming. He’d rocked with his knees pulled up to his chest, huddled against the wall with the ragged, filthy blanket he’d stolen from the dog bed, and pictured the life he wanted.
A big white house with a front porch with a huge swing on the end. One of those kinds that looked like a big bed hanging from ropes, a soft mattress on top. Babies crawling across the porch, laughing and playing. Boys running around in the yard, their shouts filled with happiness and the kind of joy that came with youth and innocence. Little girls with long ponytails, coloring books, and dolls. Children who would never know what it was like to feel unloved or unwanted. Who didn’t have to wonder where their next meal was coming from, whether they’d go to bed hungry, or have to fight or steal to survive.
There’d be land, open and green and lush as far as the eye could see. A couple of black Labrador retrievers barking as they followed the boys across the front lawn. An orange tabby strutting around like it owned the place.
And always in the background, there was a woman. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was his. His heart. His soul. Someone who accepted him for who he was and didn’t see the horrible things he’d been forced to do, acts so despicable just thinking about them made him want to murder the people who’d done this to him. But she made everything right again. Made him feel ten feet tall and invincible.
He shook his head, bringing his thoughts back to the present and out of the pipe dream from his youth. After he’d been rescued from the hellhole he’d been tossed into after he’d been sold, he’d thought his life was over. Before long, he’d wished it was. Couldn’t count the number of times he’d wanted to end it. End the horrors he’d suffered, praying that the next day would never come.
He thanked God every day for Grant Calvin. He’d been the first face he’d seen when the compound he’d been held in was raided, the last of several because they moved the boys around frequently. Calvin had undone the manacle chaining him to the bedframe and handed him the key. Given him that symbol of hope, and he’d clutched it in his unwashed hand like it was a lifeline to paradise. He still had that key and wore it on a chain around his neck.
Pulling into the drive at the Boudreau ranch, he noted Ms. Patti’s white Escalade wasn’t parked in front of the house, but Douglas’ truck was. Might be a good thing, since he wanted to talk with Douglas and this might give him a chance to speak with him alone.
Stepping from the car, he started for the front of the house when he heard noise coming from the area of the barn. Looking over, he spotted Douglas standing outside the corral, watching Dane and another man he didn’t recognize working with a couple of horses. Crossing the space, he stood next to Douglas as Dane and the other man worked in tandem with one of the two horses. They worked seamlessly together, and it was obvious they’d done this many times before.
“New stock,” Douglas said, watching Dane ease a halter over the horse’s head. It was attached to a lead line. Dane whispered soft words to the animal, which snorted and pawed the ground several times while Dane gentled him to his touch.
“Beautiful animals.”
“They are. Bit feisty, but they’ll settle down once they’ve acclimated.” Douglas stepped back from the railing and faced him. “What brings you by?”
“Wondered if you might have a minute to talk? Got a couple of things I wanted to run past you.”
“No problem. Let’s head back to the house. Patricia left some fresh sweet tea before she left. Had to run into town. Some business with a house. I swear the woman never slows down.”
“Sounds like somebody else I know.”
Douglas let out a barking laugh. “Not anymore. Ever since I was in the hospital, the doctors said I had to learn to delegate or they’d make sure I was forced into retirement. Liam runs the construction company now for the most part, but I still keep him on his toes.”
“I can imagine. I have trouble seeing you ever really retiring. The man I remember was always up before the sun, taking care of ranch work before he headed to the construction site to put in a full day.”
Douglas opened the back door to the kitchen and led Nick inside. “Those days are past me now. I’ll always have a hand in some of the business’ operations, but the day-to-day stuff I leave up to Liam. He’s got a good crew and I trust them to carry Boudreau Construction into the next generation.”
Douglas handed Nick the glass he’d filled with ice and sweet tea, and pointed to the table. “Want anything else? Patricia left a pan of brownies cooling. She won’t mind if I share.”
“No, but thanks.” Nick pulled out his phone. “I want to show you something, get your opinion.”
“Of course.”
Nick pulled up the security footage of the BB’s parking area, queued up the video, and handed the phone to Douglas. Watched a quizzical expression spread across his face, then he watched the video again, and finally a third time before handing the phone back.
“Somebody slash your tires?”
Nick nodded. “At the BB. The owner has security cameras all around the place and caught this footage. Opinions?”
“My first thought was to wonder if this is connected with the shooting.”
“Mine too.”
Douglas scratched his chin before reaching for his tea and taking a long swallow. “My second thought is wondering what you did to that woman to tick her off enough to slash your tires.”
“So you think it’s a woman too?”
“Yeah. The way she moves, the physical build. It’s subtle. It’s possible that it could be a man, but my first instinct is it’s a woman. Got another question though.”
“What’s that?”
“How’d she know which car was yours? It wasn’t the only one in the parking area, but she headed straight for yours.”
Nick paused, wondering why neither he nor Rafe had considered that. Once Ms. Edna had suggested his vandal might be a woman, his brain had automatically started looking into who it might be.
“That’s a very good question. I need to check with the rental agency, see if there’s been any inquiries—”
“Let Rafe do it. It’ll be more official coming through a sheriff’s office asking questions, rather than the customer. They might not tell you anything, where the badge might open lips.”
“Good idea.”
Douglas leaned back and openly studied Nick. “Heard anything from Grant Calvin? He mentioned he’d be looking into that Simon Norville fellow.”
“I’d planned to call him earlier, but I got sidetracked talking to Gracie.”
“Gracie? Nice woman. My wife loves her to pieces.”
Nick slid the phone back in his pocket before leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table to focus on Douglas. “I—we are having dinner together tomorrow night. She said that she’ll cook.”
A slow tugging of Douglas’ lips turned into a huge smile. “A date? You’re going on a date with Gracie? Good job, kiddo. Like I said, she’s good people.”
Nick knew he needed to change the subject before it became a gabfest like old ladies under the hair driers at the beauty shop. He already knew Douglas’ first call when he left would be to Ms. Patti. The whole date thing needed to be nipped in the bud before Ms. Patti started hearing wedding bells and knitting baby booties.
“Let me tell you what I found out about Simon Norville.” Douglas’ tone was suddenly all business. “Man is still in solitary confinement. Supposedly has no access to any tech. No phones, no computers, no television. When he is around any electronics, he is monitored by the guards. Between you and me, we both know slip-ups happen. Smuggled illegal devices get into the Australian prison system the same way it gets into the American one. So there’s no ruling him out completely. We did find a record of his sisters visiting. One of them has only been to see him twice, at the beginning of his incarceration. The other goes about once every month or so. The brother refuses to see him.”
Nick felt his gut clench as Douglas began enumerating the facts he’d uncovered. “Where’d you get this information?”
“You’re not the only one who has friends with skills. And before you ask, I didn’t ask Destiny to look into this. I have other people who owe me. I simply called in a favor.”
“Nice favor.”
Douglas simply smiled. “What isn’t mentioned is Simon Norville has two nephews, kids of his brother. One nephew has never visited but the other one, he’s gone to see Norville fourteen times. I found that little fact interesting.”
“I don’t remember hearing about that.” Nick pulled out his phone, ready to text Calvin, have him verify Douglas’ information.
“Wait, there’s more. Norville’s sister has three daughters. All three have visited Norville on various occasions. Mostly for holidays, but it’s a thread you need to consider. Of the five nieces and nephews, three of them have left Australia in the past six months. All flew to the States. Nephew flew into LAX. The two girls flew into LaGuardia. From either place, it’s an easy one-flight connection to get to Dallas or Houston.”
Nick shook his head, amazed at the info Douglas shared. Calvin’s tech guy was good. Better than good, he was a bloody genius. How had this info been missed?
“I need to get this information to Calvin, find out how this got overlooked.”
“To be honest, with false paperwork, good forgeries, it would have been easy. Luckily, my specialist was able to get photos of the people involved and run them through a specialized facial recognition program, which he invented by the way, which is how he was able to connect the dots.”
“Any chance you can tell me who your guy is?”
Douglas chuckled. “I could, but then I’d have to kill you. All kidding aside, knowing that the person who slashed your tires is a female, you might have Calvin look at the nieces first. Since the nieces are documented to have been in the States several times, have him check to see if they are still in Australia as of the last couple of days. If they aren’t, well, that means we might be looking in the right direction.”
“It would be smart of Norville to use young people like that, especially family. He would have no problem throwing them under the bus if it meant he got even with me. I know in my gut it’s him, and this puts us one step closer to proving he’s the one who got Antonio shot.”
“I want them to pay.” The steely determination behind Douglas’ words didn’t surprise Nick. If it meant getting justice for his son, Douglas would do whatever it took, including taking on the Devil himself.
“Thank you for this. I’m going to make sure Antonio’s shooter is caught. I won’t give up until he or she goes to jail.”
Douglas stood and picked up a dishtowel-covered pan off the counter along with a knife. “I think I need one of Patricia’s brownies. She’ll be mighty disappointed if you don’t have one too.”
“We wouldn’t want to disappoint Ms. Patti.”
A lone figurecrouched low behind a batch of lone oaks several hundred yards from the Boudreaus’ front porch. Watching the comings and goings at the ranch had been a snooze fest but had finally paid off. They’d known sooner or later Nick Vincent would show back up. Something about this place drew him back like catnip to a kitty. Diligence and patience embodied the key to the long game.
There were too many people around to take another shot at him, especially on the Boudreau property. Shouldn’t have missed the first time. It was a fluke and wouldn’t happen again. Slashing his tires had been foolish, but it felt so good at the time.
Watching Nick with the elder Boudreau raised the hackles on the back of their neck. What right did he have to walk about free when he’d shattered lives? Destroyed futures?
Through the scope of the rifle, it was simple to follow Nick’s movements, watch him follow the older Boudreau past the barn and disappear from view behind the house. Loathing surged through them, a fierce desire to exact revenge bubbling to the surface. Soon.
Quickly dismantling the sniper rifle and packing it carefully within its specially-designed case, they gave one final look toward the Boudreau manse. Maybe killing Nick would shatter their lives the same way he had shattered theirs, but they couldn’t allow that to matter.
The only thing that did matter was destroying Nick Vincent.