23. Juliette
Chapter 23
Juliette
H is voice came to her in snippets, low, frantic words whispered from somewhere across the room. Juliette stretched—the other side of the bed was cold.
“Charles, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I need your help here. This guy… he’s too smart for me.”
Juliette pushed herself to sitting, her heart in her throat. Her eyes were bleary, brain still asleep—unable to process what she was hearing.
Ronan was pacing in front of the bedroom window, already dressed—jeans and a blue button-down that probably brought out his eyes. He wasn’t looking at her now, though, and the tension in his shoulders, the hard line of his jaw, made her hackles rise.
“No, I can’t ask them. They fucking fired me!”
This she understood, and her chest clenched. He’d… lost his job? Because of her?
Juliette swung her legs to the floor, the silky top sheet brushing over her shins as it slipped off the bed. He glanced back over his shoulder when she bent to retrieve it.
“I’ll call you back.”
“Who was that?” she asked, wrapping the sheet around her naked shoulders.
“Charles. My brother.”
She hadn’t even known he had a brother until now.
That’s because you don’t really know him, Juliette. Your first conversation ever was three days ago. Three.
“Who’s too smart?” she asked, but even as she said it, she knew. The killer.
They might not know who he was, but the sentiment was always the same—he was always too smart. Or too brutal. Too sneaky. And it all added up to the same thing: Daniel won. Every single time.
Ronan paused, and something in his eyes made her legs go weak—for once, not in a good way. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her against his chest.
Shit . Definitely bad news. But at least her mother was okay… right? Mom’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay . It was a thin comfort, but over the last six years, it had often been the only comfort she had. And she’d have to cling to it extra hard today. Soon, she’d have to say goodbye to New York, to Jennifer Crandall—to Ronan. For good.
“I’m making a donation to the Nebraska governor’s campaign and another to the Ravenbrook Sheriff’s Department,” he said into her hair. “They need new equipment, new cars. And I think they’ll do most anything to make that happen, especially once they find out that their sheriff is a murderous piece of shit.”
She felt the color drain from her face, heat vanishing into cold nothingness. Her chest was encased in ice. He knows. Oh, god, he knows everything.
Was he going to handcuff her, take her in? Even if he didn’t arrest her, he couldn’t exactly let a dead woman run off again, not when she had warrants out for her arrest.
Juliette backed away as if she might outrun him wearing only this sheet, him in jeans and sneakers. What was she going to do now? How was she going to protect her mother? She should have left already—she should have left last night. She should have left the day Jason died. Fuck .
But mingling with her panic was a white-hot fury deep in her belly. She’d warned him. Begged him not to look into her.
What other option did you give him, Juliette? Let the killer go? You didn’t actually think he’d frame Waylon for it, did you?
“Whatever you do with me… you have to help my mom. Just the fact that you put his name into the system?—”
He raised his hands in a calm down gesture that made her want to punch him in the dick. Why didn’t he understand how fucking serious this was? This was life or death for the only family she had.
“Your mother is fine—I sent private security. They’re discreet, ex-military, but Daniel’s here, anyway. He won’t know she’s being watched. Also… I didn’t put him into the system.”
He stepped closer, and when she backed away again, he paused beside the bed. “There’s no way he can get through the encryption on my laptop. Right now, my brother is working the angles in Ravenbrook, setting things in motion so I can have that bastard replaced—sheriffs are appointed there, not elected. No matter what happens here, he’s out of law enforcement. But no one there will know that until I have him in cuffs.”
“You can’t be sure of that. He has access to all of the?—”
“I’m Charles O’Connor’s son, part owner of O’Connor Media Enterprises. There’s no way he infiltrated them . It’s a multi-billion-dollar corporation, and they don’t take orders from any branch of government, let alone a sheriff from shit-nowhere Nebraska.” He caught her eye, then said, “Sorry. Maybe Nebraska is nice. But that fucker is going to get what’s coming to him.”
She blinked. Had he said… billions? “I… You’re a… But your last name is Duffy, right?”
“Bastard son. I told you, I have family money, and I also have more resources than he could ever dream of. He doesn’t know I’m looking at him—doesn’t know that any of us are looking at him. But I’m going to take him down with or without your help.”
She swallowed hard. “He’s killed men for less. He’s killed other cops.”
He closed the distance between them in one long stride and took her face in his hands. This time, she made no move to back away.
“I’m going to catch him,” he said.
“You can’t. No one has.”
“I’m going to catch him.”
“You’re not.” But it was quieter this time.
“Juliette.” The way her name rolled off his tongue made her resistance crumble. “I’m going to catch him. You and your mother are going to be safe from now on.”
Her lip trembled, eyes burning. She wanted to believe him, but how the hell was he going to accomplish that? Was money really enough? Plus… “You already lost your job. You’re out of law enforcement. If you’re anticipating a citizen’s arrest, I don’t think?—”
“I just said that because Daniel has access to my cell. I got word from the chief today that someone saw us having sex at the reservoir.”
Juliette’s head was spinning. “The… where?” What was he talking about?
“On the phone, I told my partner that I took you to the reservoir to interrogate you. In the hospital room, where I didn’t have my cell, I told him I questioned you in a motel outside the city. I planted different information at every potential leak point. And I told the chief I was doing it.”
“So you’re… not fired?”
Ronan smiled. “No. And they don’t know who you really are yet; don’t know you and I are together, either. But we’ve all known men like Daniel Graves. And the officers I work with aren’t going to let a few bad apples ruin the force’s reputation. We’re not all abusers. Most of us are desperately trying to stop people from being harmed, and you’re no exception.” His gaze bored into hers. “I wish you’d told me sooner.”
“I—”
“I know. You couldn’t. You tried that before—called the authorities, and he hurt you, hurt your mother. Made the deputy who tried to help you vanish and pinned his disappearance on you. Right?” He traced his thumb gently along her jawline. “We have two goals. One is to catch him. The second is to clear you.”
A spark flared in her chest—hot and bright—but it took her a moment to decipher what it was. Hope? “Do you think… I mean, is that actually possible?”
“We have his man—the one you saw in the motel parking lot. And Ortega is an honest-to-god genius. Daniel might be the sheriff, but he’s not a forensics expert.”
“Put security on Ortega, too, okay?” He seemed like a nice man, albeit more suspicious than she’d have liked that day in the morgue.
Ronan’s gaze did not falter. “You’re worried he’ll vanish like Deputy Sanchez?”
Her eyes filled. She nodded.
“If we can find Sanchez, it might go a long way toward clearing your name. Is there any way he ran off like you did, or?—”
“Daniel told me he’s buried under my mother’s house. Presumably covered in trace evidence that will point squarely at me—evidence I won’t be able to explain away.”
Her breath shuddered from her lungs, secrets pouring out of her, but there was no point in holding back now—he already knew what Daniel wanted the world to think. The least she could do was defend herself.
“Daniel made it look like we were having an affair,” she went on. “He wrote fake journal entries, called Sanchez from my cell phone late at night, but he was happily married. His only crime was believing me about Daniel’s abuse.”
Ronan dropped his hands and stepped back, heading for the table by the windows. “Daniel has a lot of contingency plans,” he said, retrieving his laptop. “But so do I.”
He returned to her side and flipped the computer open. “He might shell out cash to have you watched, but it’s easy enough to explain his interest in finding you—you’re a wanted woman. What sheriff wouldn’t want to track you down? And what criminal wouldn’t want to be on the sheriff’s good side by finding his estranged wife? He could even argue that they took it on themselves. But he’s not stupid enough to hire a hitman.”
“I know.”
“You do?” His lip curled into a smug half-smile. “Do you also have the video feed of him sneaking out of the alley right after Mercer’s death?” He tapped a button, and she peered around his shoulder at the hooded figure creeping from the alley. “Can’t see his face, but we managed to place the watch—a gift from the Nebraska governor.”
Her heart was beating so violently that she could barely breathe, but she forced out, “How did you?—”
“Cleareye Traffic Solutions: the company who owns the traffic cams down there. They’re contracted through that big-box warehouse.”
She stared at the screen, watching Daniel saunter out of the alley. When he walked out of frame, she tapped the replay button. Again, again, studying the black jacket with bright orange flames on the sleeves. She didn’t recognize it, but he always wore a distinctive coat. It was one of his favorite tricks. If they were looking for a guy in that jacket, they weren’t looking for a guy… not in that jacket.
Ronan sniffed, interrupting her train of thought. “Your tattooed-compass friend bribed Cleareye with cash and a threat. The man in charge of monitoring the feeds has a brother in jail for negligent homicide—his parole hearing is coming up. The deal was, get rid of the videos, or baby bro stays behind bars. He wiped the feeds, but they didn’t account for the backup on Cleareye’s main servers in Washington. That data isn’t accessible locally.”
“I’m surprised a cross-state warrant went through that quickly.”
Did this seem too… easy? But was it really so weird to get a break after six years of running and five years of horrific abuse before that?
“No warrant—I didn’t want a paper trail. Cleareye Traffic Solutions is a small, private corporation. I put in an offer to purchase it for twenty percent above market value with the caveat that they provide those feeds within the hour.”
She swallowed hard. “Exactly… how much money do you have?”
But he’d already told her. Billions , he’d said. Billions .
“Enough to bury that entire Podunk town where Daniel has deemed himself king. And enough to take care of your mother.”
Her heart soared, hope flickering through the darkness that had held her captive for so long. Ronan was going to do it—he was really going to put Daniel away. But… with or without her help? Fuck that . She wanted to be there—wanted to watch them slap the cuffs on him. Wanted to see Daniel’s face when he realized he’d lost.
Juliette sniffed. “I should be the one to lure him out.”
Ronan snapped the laptop closed and shook his head. “Tell me what you know. Agree to testify. Then you’ll stay here with private security, where you’ll be safe. That’s all the help I need.”
Was he fucking kidding? “No.”
His eyes widened. “No?”
She clenched her fists, muscles knotted, her bare toes touching his shoes. “He would have left the city already if he’d managed to kill you the first time. You’re the reason he’s still here.”
“I know. Which is exactly why?—”
“I’ll be damned if I let you go out there alone. I’m safer than any of you in his presence. I’m dead, remember? A wanted woman if anyone finds out I’m still alive—plus, he has my mother. I have more to lose than he does. Trust me, he won’t show his face to you or anyone else.”
She laid a hand on his shoulder atop the gauze, a silent reminder of yesterday’s brush with death. “He tried to kill you once. He’ll try again. But he’s had thousands of chances, and he’s never tried to kill me .”
He balked, but she went on, “He’s hurt me, but he doesn’t want me dead. If he has a choice, he’ll let me get away so he can keep playing his stupid game. And if we let him leave New York, if he figures out you’re protecting my mom, that he has no job… he’ll vanish. We’ll never be safe again.”
Ronan’s jaw tightened. “I won’t put you in harm’s way, Juliette. I can’t do that.”
“I’m not asking your permission.” She squared her shoulders, suddenly feeling ten feet tall. “He’s tortured me for years. I want to make sure that payback is a bitch.”