Chapter Eleven
Beck dropped to his knees in the wet gravel, his hands moving fast but steady as he checked Elena’s airway and pulse. She was breathing, shallow but steady. Her eyelids fluttered when he pried one open, pupils sluggish in the dim gray light.
“She’s alive,” he said over his shoulder. “But I think she’s been drugged.”
Grace was a few feet away, her phone pressed to her ear. When she hung up, she came back toward him, her face tight. “EMTs are on the way.”
Elena stirred, her lips moving. Her words slurred, broken. “I… I drank… water… in my car. Bottle on the seat. Been there since last night.”
Beck kept a hand on her shoulder to keep her from rolling onto her side. He met Grace’s eyes, a knot forming in his gut.
Grace didn’t answer. She turned and went to Elena’s vehicle. The driver’s side door hung open, and on the seat was a half-empty water bottle. She bent closer, close enough to see the cloudy film near the mouth of it, then quickly straightened, careful not to touch it.
“It’s here,” Grace called back. “But I’m not putting a hand on it. That could be evidence.”
Beck pulled his phone from his pocket and hit the sheriff’s number. She answered on the second ring. “Sheriff Chase, it’s Beck. You need to come down to the gate right now. I’m pretty sure Elena’s been drugged.”
He ended the call and looked down at the woman sprawled in the sleet, her words slipping into mumbles he couldn’t quite catch. Her pulse was still steady, her pupils slow to respond.
What the hell had she taken? Or had someone slipped it to her?
Beck wasn’t ruling anything out. Elena could be faking every damn bit of this. She could have dosed herself with something mild just to buy sympathy, to paint herself as the victim. And hell, maybe she was the victim. Until he knew for sure, every option stayed on the table.
He glanced at Grace, who was keeping her distance from the car, her gaze sharp on the water bottle inside. Evidence. The word pressed hard against his mind. Evidence could cut both ways.
Elena’s movements were clumsy, her hand dragging like it weighed a ton. Then, with a sudden jolt, she pushed her arm toward him and shoved her fingers into his pocket. Beck stiffened, ready to pin her if she pulled a weapon the guards had missed.
But it wasn’t a weapon. It was her phone.
She thrust it against his chest, her voice thick and broken. “Read… the texts.”
Beck flicked his gaze to Grace, then lowered it to the screen. Three messages glared back at him, all from an unlisted number.
The first read: They’re setting you up.
The second: Beck and Grace are working together to take you down.
The third: You’ll be the one in jail if you don’t stop them first.
Beck’s grip tightened on the phone. Someone was pouring gasoline on the fire, and Elena had been drinking every drop of it.
Grace leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the screen. “Do you have any idea who sent these to you?” she asked.
Elena’s head lolled slightly against the guard’s shoulder. “No. But it’s someone who’s watching me. Someone who knows the truth.”
Beck doubted that. The whole thing reeked of manipulation, and not necessarily by someone else. It wouldn’t take much for Elena to send these to herself from a burner phone. A twisted way to play victim, to deflect suspicion.
“Why did you believe the texts?” he asked.
Her gaze flickered wildly between him and Grace. “Because it’s obvious. You are trying to set me up. Both of you. Everyone knows it. And when I prove it, you’ll be the ones in cuffs.”
She rambled on, words spilling out in broken threads of anger and paranoia.
“You two always thought you were better than me. Beck with his perfect aim, Grace with her perfect record. You left me to take the fall for Carson, you left me alone. And now you’re spinning this story so I look like the traitor, so I look like the one pulling the trigger.
Everyone’s going to see it for what it is.
You’ll slip up, both of you, and when you do, I’ll be ready. I’ll have proof. I’ll have—”
The crunch of tires on gravel cut her off. Beck looked up as a sheriff’s patrol car rolled to a stop. Arden Chase stepped out with Noah beside her.
And Jonah.
Jonah climbed out of the backseat, his jaw tight, his eyes locked on Elena. Beck’s stomach sank as Noah came around the car. “Jonah insisted on coming,” Noah said, the irritation in his voice and written all over his face. “He wanted to see her.”
Elena lifted her head, her glassy eyes focusing past Beck and Grace. When she spotted Jonah, her whole body jolted as if she had just been doused with ice water. For a moment she seemed lost for words, then her voice cracked out, hoarse and slurred.
“You’re alive,” Elena murmured. “Why the hell didn’t you contact me? Why didn’t you let me know you were okay?”
Jonah shifted his weight, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. “I was getting around to that,” he said. His tone carried a rough edge, but not hostility. “Thanks for looking for me.”
Beck watched from a step back, his gaze moving between them. There was no venom in Jonah’s voice, no sparks of resentment flaring in Elena’s eyes. If anything, she looked dazed with relief. Maybe she had been telling the truth after all, when she claimed she was worried about Jonah.
Beck didn’t relax. Concern could be real, but it didn’t erase the violence she had already aimed Grace’s way.
The cold wind whipped across the open ground, biting through Beck’s jacket as sleet peppered his face.
Ice crusted along the fence posts, shining in the weak daylight.
Elena shivered on the ground, her lips pale.
Sheriff Chase pulled a blanket from the cruiser and draped it around her shoulders, tucking it tight to keep out the chill.
Beck crouched beside her. “She said she drank from a water bottle in her vehicle. Might be the source.”
The sheriff nodded sharply and went to the car. She came back with the bottle sealed inside an evidence bag. “We’ll have the lab check it.”
The wail of sirens cut through the wind, growing louder by the second. A red-and-white ambulance pulled up at the gate, tires throwing slush onto the shoulder. The EMTs piled out with their kits, kneeling beside Elena.
“She’s been drugged,” Beck told them, straightening. “Could be sedatives, barbiturates, maybe something slipped into her drink. Her pupils are blown, movements are sluggish. I don’t want to rule out that she did it to herself, but you’ll want to run tox screens.”
The EMTs nodded briskly and moved Elena onto a stretcher, securing her before loading her into the back. Beck exhaled hard, his breath fogging in the cold. Another layer of questions had just been added to an already tangled mess.
As the ambulance pulled away, its siren still wailing and lights flashing, Beck kept it in sight as it wound down the frosted road. A truck turned in, passing the ambulance and slowing only when it reached the gate. Silas climbed out, his gaze locking hard on Jonah.
“Brother,” Silas called out, striding forward as if nothing else mattered. His arms started to rise, a gesture meant for an embrace.
Beck didn’t buy it. The man’s eyes betrayed him. There was venom there, sharp and ugly.
Jonah caught it, too. He blocked Silas’s reach and shoved him back, his voice raw with disdain. “Don’t touch me.”
The air went taut, thick with years of bad blood, and Beck tightened his grip on control, ready to move if this went south fast.
Jonah’s voice cracked across the cold air. “Was it you, Silas? Did you have me kidnapped?”
Silas flinched, then cursed, his face darkening. “Hell no. What kind of brother do you think I am?”
Jonah swung toward Sheriff Chase. “Arrest him. He’s been after my money for years. He’s the one who’s probably been trying to hack my account. He knows his way around a computer.”
Silas’s eyes widened. “That’s a damn lie. I don’t have the skills for that kind of thing. I was worried about you, Jonah. That’s why I came.”
“Bullshit,” Jonah snapped. His lip curled as if he could spit the word.
For the briefest moment, Silas’s bluster cracked, and confusion flickered across his face. “I thought we were better, Jonah. I thought we’d fixed this.”
Jonah’s laugh was sharp and bitter. “You wish.”
Beck stayed silent, watching the two brothers circle each other like wolves. He couldn’t shake the sense that they were both hiding something. Maybe Silas was guilty, but maybe Jonah was twisting this to his own advantage.
What if Jonah had only pretended to reconcile with Silas?
Beck knew the man well enough to suspect Jonah would use anyone if it suited him. And if Jonah’s grudge against Grace and him ran as deep as Beck feared, then this could all be a part of something darker.
Silas let out a vicious curse, his breath steaming in the cold as he turned and stomped back toward his truck. Gravel crunched under his boots, his shoulders tight with fury.
“Silas,” Sheriff Chase called after him, her voice sharp and cutting through the icy wind. “Don’t forget your interview in two hours. If you don’t show, I’ll come find you myself.”
He shot her a look over his shoulder, muttered another curse, and climbed into the driver’s seat. The truck rumbled to life, sleet pattering against the windshield as he spun the wheels and drove away.
Jonah’s voice snapped in the silence he left behind. “You’d better arrest him. He’s the one. I know it.” His eyes blazed with the kind of certainty Beck had seen too many times in men who were chasing ghosts.
Sheriff Chase stood her ground. “Do you have proof, Jonah? Something solid I can take to a judge?”
Jonah shifted, his jaw working. “No proof. Just a gut feeling.” He spat the words as if they were enough. “Silas has friends. The kind who don’t mind getting their hands dirty. He wouldn’t need to touch me himself. He’s got people for that.”
Beck watched the sheriff’s face as she absorbed that. She didn’t look convinced, and neither was he.
The anger flared in Jonah’s eyes again. “I want to go home now. I need a damn vehicle.”
Sheriff Chase squared her shoulders. “Not until I take your statement.”
“I’m not up to that right now,” Jonah snapped. “I’m aching all over, and I’m done sitting around while everyone stares at me like I’m a suspect. You want a statement, you’ll get one later.”
They went back and forth, the sheriff reminding him of the urgency, Jonah pushing back with stubborn defiance. Finally, with a clipped nod, Sheriff Chase relented. “Fine. I’ll drive you myself. We’ll finish this later.”
Jonah muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue further. He slid into the back of her cruiser, his jaw set, his eyes still burning with anger. The sheriff shut the door, gave Beck and Noah a look that promised follow-up, and then drove away with Jonah.
The cold wind whipped harder once they were gone, rattling through the gate as Beck, Grace, and Noah walked back to the van. Beck climbed behind the wheel and eased it onto the road. The ride back to headquarters was short, the wipers squeaking against the sleet-spattered windshield.
“I’ll have Isla run a deeper check,” Noah said, breaking the silence. “If Silas really does have hacking skills, she’ll find it. Then we’ll know if Jonah’s gut feeling is worth a damn or not.”
Beck nodded, but he kept his doubts to himself. In his experience, gut feelings could be as dangerous as they were useful.
They pulled into the lot and parked, sleet still hissing against the windshield. Beck cut the engine, and the three of them hurried across the cold pavement and into the warmth of headquarters.
They had barely stepped through the door when Beck’s phone vibrated. He checked the screen, saw the caller ID, and lifted it to his ear.
“This is Culver.”
The voice on the other end belonged to one of the EMTs who had taken Elena in. The man’s tone carried both surprise and frustration. “Wanted to give you a heads-up, sir. As soon as we got her to the hospital, Elena left.”
Beck gripped the phone tighter. “What do you mean she left?”
“The moment we opened the ambulance doors, she bolted.” The EMT’s voice was drenched in frustration. “She took off at a run before anyone could grab her. We tried to catch up, but she disappeared around the side of the building. By the time security was alerted, she was gone.”