Chapter 19
Since there were a couple of surgeries scheduled first thing on Monday morning, Jules had to wait until lunch before she could gather everyone. She’d not been able to get in touch with Bree over the weekend so she pulled her aside and asked her to let the others know to meet in one of the conference rooms.
“I’ve got something important to share,” she said.
As the staff filtered in—some with half-eaten sandwiches, others with puzzled expressions—Jules stood in front of the conference table and took in a steadying breath. Her heart thudded as she scanned the room, meeting their expectant faces.
“Okay,” she began, her voice trembling. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Her eyes briefly met Asher’s. He was watching her with a cool, unreadable expression. “First of all, I just want to thank everyone who came to my birthday party. Except for you, Dr. Caldwell. I totally understand why you couldn’t make it.”
“Baseball rules our weekends these days,” he said with a rueful grin.
She was veering off course. Get back on track , she ordered herself as she took in a deep breath. “The reason I asked you all here today is because … well, Brock is not my cousin.”
Surprise flicked over Asher’s expression.
“He’s my bodyguard,” she explained.
LouAnna frowned. “Your bodyguard?”
“After the hit-and-run, my dad got really worried, so he hired Brock. The cousin thing was just a cover story.”
“Thanks for clearing that up,” Mindy said, though her creased brow suggested she was still confused about why this required a meeting.
Jules continued, trying to find her footing. “That’s not the only reason I needed to talk to you. My dad—or rather, Brock—hired a private investigator to track down Steve Randall.”
LouAnna turned to Bree. “Glad to know we’re on the right path.”
Bree looked at Jules. “Who did he hire? I spoke to a man named Duncan Reeves this morning. He seems like he knows his stuff.”
“Leroy Gilcrest, that’s who Brock hired,” Jules said.
“Was he able to locate Steve Randall?” Leo asked.
Jules nodded. “He did. Over the weekend, Leroy tracked Steve to a remote cabin in Eagle Mountain Lake.”
“That’s good,” Dr. Caldwell said. “My wife will be relieved. Were the police able to arrest him?”
Jules braced herself. “No. Before they could get there, Steve Randall shot and killed Leroy.”
Shocked gasps rippled through the room. Voices erupted in a swell of horror and disbelief.
“Please,” Jules raised a hand. “It gets worse.”
Silence.
Steve Randall had photos in the cabin … of all of us. And notes on our routines. He’s been studying us.” A blistering terror streaked through her, causing her throat to go dry.
“I knew it,” Mindy exclaimed. “I knew someone was watching me.”
“I knew someone broke into my house,” Asher muttered.
Bree whipped around to Asher. “What? Someone broke into your house?”
He nodded grimly. “Nothing was taken, but someone was there.”
Jules swallowed hard and pushed forward. “Steve had a stash of guns, assault rifles, and ammunition.”
“Oh my gosh,” LouAnna said hoarsely. “What’re we supposed to do? He’s crazy.”
“I don’t know,” Jules said, “but I had to tell you the situation. Brock’s taking me away to someplace safe. Steve had photos of all of you—but he had more of me. A lot more.” Emotion clogged her throat. She didn’t try to hide the tremble in her voice. “He already came after me once. I can’t take the chance that he’ll try again.”
Charlotte nodded. “Of course. We get it.”
“I don’t want to leave you all vulnerable.” Jules looked around the room, realizing just how fond she was of these people. They were her friends, and she was deserting them. “But Brock says it’s no longer safe for me to stay here, and I … I agree.”
A long silence stretched out, the weight of what she’d said settling heavily over the room.
LouAnna finally turned to Bree. “Well, what do the rest of us do?”
“I don’t know,” Bree said. “Maybe we should all hire bodyguards.”
“Yeah, like I could afford that on my salary,” Mindy muttered.
“On mine, either,” Charlotte chimed in.
After the meeting, Jules was emotionally spent. Her coworkers had been kind and understanding, but she could see the fear in their eyes.
Asher came up to her. “Hey,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. “About the other night … I overreacted. Seeing you and Brock together caught me off guard.”
“It’s okay,” Jules replied. “I’m just glad you know that he’s not my cousin.”
He studied her. “So, you and Brock. You’re a thing?”
She paused. “We used to be.”
“But it looks like it’s happening again?”
“Yeah … it looks that way.” She wanted to give it to him straight so that he wouldn’t entertain any false hope that they could be anything other than coworkers or friends.
He nodded and tried to mask his disappointment with a smile. “I’m happy for you. I hope everything works out. And I hope you’ll be able to come back soon.”
“Me too.”
As she walked out of the center toward the SUV where Brock was waiting, her phone buzzed. She pulled it from her purse. It was Nikki. She was planning on staying at the bungalow while Brock took Jules away to a safe place. Jules got the feeling that Luke might also stick around Fort Worth a while longer.
Today, Nikki was hanging out at the bungalow, probably waiting for Luke to get back. Brock was worried that Steve Randall might try something today at the surgical center, so he’d gotten Luke to keep watch over the back while he monitored the front.
“Hey, Nikki,” Jules answered.
Silence.
Her heart lurched. “Nikki? You okay?”
A man's voice came through the line—gruff and unmistakably cruel.
“She’ll be just fine … as long as you do exactly what I say.”
The air left Jules’s lungs. “Who is this?”
“I think you know. Come to your house alone. If I see your bodyguard, the cops, or anyone else, your cousin dies. You’ve got thirty minutes.”
“Wait—please! Don’t?—”
The line went dead.
Jules stumbled toward the SUV. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she yanked the door open and climbed in, gasping for breath.
Brock went on instant alert. “What is it?”
“Steve Randall’s got Nikki,” she choked out. “He’s got Nikki! We thought he was coming here, but he went to the house. He said I have to come alone. If I don’t, he’ll kill her.” Tears blurred her vision. “What are we going to do? I can’t lose her, Brock. I can’t lose my cousin.”
Brock reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. “Okay, just breathe. We’ll figure this out.”
“How?” she sobbed. “I have to get to her. Now.”
“I said we’ll figure it out. And we will.” He pulled out his phone and punched in a number. “Bro, we’ve got a problem.”
Breathe , Jules commanded herself as she climbed the steps to her front door. Her heart was beating so wildly that it felt like it would punch a hole through her chest. Even though she knew Brock and Luke were watching her every movement, she didn’t dare look around in case Steve Randall was watching. One wrong twitch could trigger disaster.
She reached out to press the doorbell but then hesitated as a prayer went through her mind. Please help me get through this. Help me to be brave. Please keep Nikki safe, and please help me to be safe. Taking in a deep breath, she punched the doorbell and waited.
It only took a second for the door to open. Steve Randall thrust out his meaty hand and caught her wrist in a crushing grip before pulling her inside. He slammed the door and dragged her into a chokehold. Then he pressed the cold muzzle of a gun against her temple.
“Please,” she uttered, “you don’t have to do this.” If he shot her at this moment, there would be no time for Brock or Luke to react. It would all be over.
“Shut up,” he snarled, giving her a whiff of his putrid breath. Or maybe it was body odor.
Her fear was so thick in her throat that she could taste it.
Nikki was on the couch. Her cheeks were wet from tears, her beautiful face etched with raw fear. Jules’s heart shuddered. Nikki was going to die, and it was all her fault.
She was also going to die.
Terror iced through her veins, making her feel paralyzed.
No, she had to be strong and keep the faith. Another prayer went through her mind. Dear Lord, please help us. Brock and Luke were outside. They had a plan. She just needed to do her part. All they needed was a little precious time to get into position. They’d tried to get a clear shot earlier so that Jules wouldn’t have to go into a dangerous situation. However, Steve would never get close to a window. Luke was the one who suggested that Jules go in. “If Steve Randall’s distracted, then we’ll have a better chance of getting to him.”
Brock had flatly refused to put Jules in danger, but she insisted, fearing that if she didn’t go inside before the thirty minutes was up, Steve would kill Jules.
Steve let out a string of curses and then hauled her over and pushed her down on the couch beside Nikki. The hard landing shot pain through her injured shoulder. Nikki grabbed hold of Jules’s hands and scooted close to her. They sat huddled together, trembling from head to toe.
“This is all your fault,” Steve raged, the vein in the center of his head throbbing. When Jules saw him before in the surgical center, his hair was short. Now, it was shaggy and oily. He looked like he hadn’t bathed in days. Rage and hatred burned in his eyes.
He began pacing back and forth in erratic movements, his gun flying all over the place.
Jules glanced toward the window, wondering if Steve was close enough. Surely, he was. From her vantage point, it certainly appeared that way.
“You told us the surgery would be routine—that Lisa would be home watching TV by the end of the day.” His voice rose to a frenzy. “I wanted to reschedule the surgery, but you downplayed my fears.” He let out a muffled sob that morphed into a cry so feral it hardly sounded human. “She was my everything, and you took her from me. Why should you live when she died? You don’t deserve to live,” he sneered.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Jules said, and she meant it to the depth of her soul. “Lisa was a good person. She wouldn’t want you to do this.”
“Don’t you dare speak her name,” he shrieked.
This snuffed Jules into silence. Why weren’t Brock and Luke moving into action? This was reaching a critical point.
Steve wheeled around and eyed Jules with such malice that she knew there was no hope of talking him down. He was past reason. Past mercy. He pointed his gun at her. “Now you’ll pay.”
A shot was fired. At the same time, Nikki screamed.
Shock blitzed across Steve’s face before he fell to the ground, his gun tumbling out of his hand. There was a red circle of blood on Steve’s temple. His body was still, eyes vacant.
The shot had killed him instantly.
“What just happened?” Nikki gasped
A second later, Brock and Luke stormed into the room. Luke had a gun in his hand. Brock had assured her that Luke was an expert marksman and rarely to never missed his target. “All you have to do is keep Steve talking for a few seconds,” Brock had said. “Get him in view of a window, and we’ll take care of the rest.”
She glanced at the window, noting the hole in the glass with crack lines branching out from it in all directions like a spider web.
Brock went to Jules and pulled her into his arms. Luke shelved his gun in the waistband of his jeans and did the same to Nikki.
Tears pooled in Jules’s eyes as she looked up at Brock. “I’m so glad it’s over.”
He stroked her back. “Me too.”
She nestled her face against the comfort of his chest, drawing strength from his steady heartbeat.
Silently, she whispered the only words she could summon.
Thank you, Lord. Thank you.