Chapter 16
LEE
The gravel pops under my tires as I roll to a stop at the gate which is taller than it used to be. Gerry always did have the best security. When you hunt human traffickers, you must be able to protect yourself, but the whole perimeter looks like a private compound for someone expecting a small war.
I cut the truck’s engine and silence rushes in. A camera set on a swivel catches my face and the speaker crackles. “Step out of the vehicle.” The voice isn’t one I recognize or remember, but he sounds bored, not threatening.
I open my door slowly, keeping my hands in view, and stand beside my truck. My breath fogs the cold air, rising up and fading. The gate doesn’t open. Instead, two large armed men emerge from a smaller side door, their armored vests visible under jackets. Neither looks happy to see me.
“You’re here for a meeting with Mr. Nolan,” one of them says.
“Yes. He knows I’m coming.”
“He does.” The guard gestures toward the small door. “Walk ahead of us.”
The hallway inside is narrow and lined with metal, like something out of an old Cold War bunker. Gerry’s paranoid, but he has reason to be. We all did, and I’m not the only one who learned that the hard way. You don’t spend years cleaning up human garbage without them retaliating.
They lead me through a metal detector, then an x-ray scanner to make sure I’m not carrying any weapons.
The scanner is new and probably added because of the possibility of 3D printed plastic guns.
Once they’re confident I’m unarmed, one guard places his finger on a pad to identify his fingerprint.
A wide set of double doors opens. On the other side is a completely different world of warm wooden floors, a vaulted ceiling, and huge windows that overlook an ink black lake.
Everything about the interior feels expensive. Gerry’s taste hasn’t changed.
He sits in a chair off to the right, near a stone fireplace. He’s around seven years older than the last time I saw him. Gray has taken over his dark hair, and his face is more lined, but his posture is straight, and his presence still sharp.
His eyes cut up to me the moment I enter. “We’re good here,” he says to the guards without looking at them. “He’s harmless unless you hire him.”
“That’s debatable,” I remark, and a corner of his mouth twitches.
The guards exit, latching the heavy doors behind them, and Gerry gestures to the chair opposite him. “Sit.”
He studies me the way he used to study a mark, quiet, assessing, probably seeing more than I want him to. “You look tired,” he says finally.
“It’s been a long week.”
“Yes.” He folds his hands together. “Your message said you needed to talk and it was urgent.”
“I got a few texts followed by a letter. Someone wants me to kill an innocent man.”
Gerry reaches for a nearby bottle and pours a glass of scotch, offering it to me. “Plenty of sick people out there. That’s not new.”
I shake my head, and he drinks it himself. “He included information about something only a handful of people know.”
“Which is?”
“Joss.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw, but his voice remains calm. “I see.”
“You told me you knew I was responsible.”
“I knew you killed him. You were spiraling, determined to take down everyone who ever met Joss. It was understandable after what he did to your wife. It also would’ve gotten you killed along with the little sister who was depending on you.
I was glad to see you took my advice to let Joss’s death be enough retribution. ” There’s no judgment in his tone.
He's right. I was out of my mind with rage and grief. Gerry was an old friend, someone I trusted at the time. We wanted the same thing, to get rid of the monsters who were preying on women and children. But Gerry wasn’t the one getting his hands dirty.
He was the money, the man behind the curtain.
“Someone’s trying to frame me. Or bait me.
I need to know who else you told about Joss. ”
“You’re accusing me.” His voice sharpens. “You show up here after disappearing for years and demand answers about something I wasn’t even involved in.”
“You knew,” I reply quietly, trying to keep my own temper in check. “You knew what I did.”
“Yes, I knew you killed the bastard who murdered your wife. I didn’t sanction it.
You didn’t give me time to even consider that, but it wasn’t my business anymore.
You’d left your position months prior and retired from the network.
You had every reason to want the man dead, and I wasn’t about to lecture a grieving widower. ”
Everything inside me coils tight. “You’re telling me no one else knows?”
“No,” he scoffs, offering me a drink again. This time I accept. “I didn’t tell anyone, but it wasn’t a secret that the Jackals had killed Isla. I’m not the only one who assumed the disappearance of one of their new guys was you taking care of unfinished business.” He sits back in his chair.
Silence stretches, broken only by the crackle and pop of the fire. “The text said they know where she is. That I killed the wrong man.”
“Did you?”
I look into wise eyes. “No. I know it was him.”
“Then someone’s fucking with you, using you to take out someone for them.
Have you considered that it isn’t one of our kind or theirs?
Both sides have more than enough capability to kill an innocent man.
They don’t need a retired professional for that.
The media was aware that Joss was the top suspect in Isla’s death, that his car was full of her blood.
Some true crime enthusiast could’ve looked into your story and figured out how to contact you. ”
“They left me Isla’s wedding ring.”
“Well, that kills that theory,” he sighs. “But I’m not involved and neither are any of my people. No one here bears a grudge against you. You’re a cautionary tale of what men who do this work are risking, not an enemy.”
Silence reigns for a long moment before he softens his voice and asks, “How is your sister?”
“Good. All grown up and living her own life.”
“Lee, you know how this works. If someone wants to get at you, they’ll go through someone you care about. A lover. A sister. A friend. That hasn’t changed. I can help with security, put some feelers out for information about who may be targeting you. Discreetly.”
It’s tempting, but nothing is free. The last thing I want is to be in debt to him or pulled back into this world. “Thank you for the offer. I may take you up on it in the future, but for now, I’d rather handle things.”
He stands, signaling the conversation is ending, and I get to my feet as well. He steps closer and drops his voice. “And Lee?” His eyes pin mine with the same sharp authority he used years ago. “Do not do anything reckless. You don’t want back on their radar again after they’ve forgotten you.”
“Someone hasn’t forgotten.”
The guards reappear and I follow them back through the doors. The lock engages behind them, sealing away an entire life that seems determined not to let me go. They escort me back through the metal corridors until I’m stepping into the cold again where my truck waits.
As much as I hate it, Gerry is right. I can’t narrow this down by figuring out who knows I killed Joss. There may not be proof or firsthand knowledge but plenty of people will have assumed it.
This visit got me nowhere. He was also right that I need to put some security on Lacey, just in case. There’s been no sign that whoever is doing this knows where either of us lives, but I can’t take the chance. Justus has someone he can call in to watch from a distance until this is over.
The unwelcome thought seeps into my head that one man’s death could end it, but then I remember the kids climbing out of his car. I’m a killer, yes, but not a monster.
The visit with Gerry didn’t take long, but it’s getting dark when I turn onto my road.
The lake is iron gray, and the sky is the color of a bruise.
Dreary ass day. I’m exhausted, physically and mentally after too many nights of sleeping like shit and too many days of worrying about how this is going to turn out.
My mood lifts a little as I open my front door to the sound of music playing and the delicious smell of onions and peppers.
Silver must be cooking. For one fragile moment, things feel almost normal, and somebody help me, domestic. Until I enter the kitchen.
She’s standing near the stove, turned half away from me, smiling down at the phone in her hand. Her dress moves when she breathes, and I’m frozen by the sight of it. The muted blue color, the dip of the neckline, the tie at one side of her waist.
It can’t be. I haven’t seen that dress in years, but I remember it perfectly. I should since I bought it for Isla for her birthday. It was her favorite and she wore it all the time, even the day that she disappeared.
My chest locks up and air seizes in my throat. The room narrows, the sound of the music dropping until all I can hear is a violent oceanic roar of blood rushing in my ears. Silver turns to smile at me, and for a heartbeat the present fractures.
Silver’s hair is dark brown. I’ve threaded my fingers through it enough times to know, but for a second it isn’t.
The dark flashes to blond, then dark, and back again like a badly edited film.
Blond hair loose down her back, catching the sunlight on the dock.
Dark hair, wild and damp on my pillow. Blond hair and dark hair cascade over the shoulders of that dress.
My knees go weak at the rush of memories.
Isla wore it barefooted during the summer our air conditioning went out, and we sat in the shade in our tiny backyard.
She wore it as she leaned over the stove and swatted my hand away for stealing food before it was finished.
She wore it the last time I ever saw her, smiling up at me from the porch swing.
Silver takes a step toward me. “Hey.” At the sound of her soft voice, my recent nightmare slams into me, mixing with the day of the fire.