Chapter Twenty
SOMETHING NIGGLED ATBarrett for a while. Like he’d been missing something important. Well, he’d been missing something extremely important his entire life—Zoey.
But he’d also been missing something important in the investigation as he talked to Zoey the next morning. Something right under his nose.
What if...?
No, it couldn’t be. He had no proof, just supposition and gut instinct, and he’d need much more than those. But his gut instincts had always been right before.
Zoey shifted toward him as they discussed the results of her conversation with Gerald over coffee at Kennedy’s mansion. “What happened? And how can I help?”
He blinked and clinked his tiny porcelain cup back on the saucer. He preferred gigantic mugs, but when in Rome—or Kennedy’s place—he had to go with Italian porcelain and small dosages of drinks. The coffee aroma hung in the air together with apprehension. As much as he loved spending every moment with Zoey, the tautness in his muscles mirrored the tension in her features, like the calm before a storm, and the many mirrors around the room reflected those emotions back at them.
But she’d asked him a question he hadn’t answered yet. “What do you mean?”
She moved her finger over her elegant cup. Her fingernails—each a different shade and all something bright like magenta or emerald or turquoise—were a splash of color against the white porcelain. It was also as if she were a vivid drawing on the blank page of his life. “You frowned. You looked like something worried you.”
“It’s just a new version I want to check. But first, I must express my admiration for how you confronted Gerald. Asking him about trying to kill you. Wow.”
She shrugged, but her pink lips curved up as if his praise pleased her, mattered to her. “I figured I might as well, considering the opportunity.” Then her hazel eyes dimmed, her expression pensive. “He denied everything.”
Barrett resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Of course, he did.”
“Call me na?ve and trusting, but I believe him. He said he suspected his younger brother organized the accidents, or at least, two of them to throw suspicion on him. He said his ring went missing when his brother was around. That was the reason his knuckles were bruised at dinner. He confronted his brother yesterday, and they got into an old-fashioned fistfight. His brother denied everything, of course.”
“Of course.” A man like Gerald should’ve concocted a better story. It sounded ridiculous enough to be true. Or not. “What’s the motive? It’s a bit too far to go for sibling rivalry.”
“I don’t think you’re going to believe this.”
“Then you know me well.” He believed in proof and facts, not in words so easily twisted.
“They went after the same painting at an auction in New York two years ago, and Gerald got it.”
“You’re right. I don’t believe it. All this because of a painting?” This required more coffee, and he took a sip.
“It happened three times, and the relationship soured. Gerald’s brother is also an avid art collector. Recently, he bragged about getting the painting he wanted abroad and planning to present it at a lavish party in his New York residence. Three nights before the party, the painting was stolen. Gerald’s brother accused him of hiring someone to steal it.”
“You’re kidding me. What about security?”
“For a precious painting, it had surprisingly little security, and his brother was conveniently out of the house that night. The alarm and security cameras were also inexplicably turned off. Gerald suspects his brother’s painting was a forgery and he staged the theft. When his brother demanded Gerald compensate him for the painting, Gerald refused.”
Barrett rubbed his forehead. “I’m starting to appreciate my brothers more and more.”
“No kidding! I said it many times, but it bears repeating. You have a wonderful family.” Zoey sat up straighter, her fingernails clicking against her cup. “Anyway, Gerald and his brother are the same height and build. Gerald said he asked his assistant to trail me because he worried about my safety.”
“Call me cynical, but it all sounds like excuses.” He tried to keep his next sip small to match the silly cup, but his sweet coffee with French vanilla creamer, his favorite flavor, was dwindling fast. “I’ll check into this, of course. But why would he care about your safety?” Of course, Barrett did care about Zoey. A lot. More than cared. But why would her father’s rival?
She braced both elbows on the table, holding the dainty cup in two hands and breathing in deeply as if savoring the aroma—which was good because these cups couldn’t hold much more than the coffee’s aroma. “He said he felt bad about the fallout with my father. His friendship with Dad was important to him, which he understood even more over the years. So I was important to him.” She blinked her doe-like eyes at him over the cup, piercing his heart. “Do you think I believed it because it was what I wanted to hear?”
“You’re kind, so you see kindness in other people.” It was one of many things he loved about her, so he couldn’t complain. His hand with the porcelain cup stilled. Then he clattered it back to its saucer. Did he... love her?
“I’d rather see the best in people than the worst, even if it leads to some disappointments.” She paused as if she wanted to say something else, but then she just waved her hand in the air. “Whatever that version is that bothers you, why don’t you go and check it?”
“Would you like to go with me? You’re brilliant at asking questions.” He didn’t want to tear himself away from her, for many reasons.
She chuckled and sipped her black coffee. “Merci. I’d love to. But Kennedy and Dad should be here in about twenty minutes, and I haven’t seen them for some time.” Then her eyes darkened. “I–I feel something is off. Kennedy said they needed to talk to me.”
He lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Family is important. I understand.”
Hold on.
There it was again. Gerald’s brother envying the man, trying to destroy his life... Why couldn’t Barrett see this before? Or was he wrong about these suspicions? But Zoey was right. This new version was worth checking.
He texted the person in question, requested a meeting, and listed a few questions. The answer arrived within seconds with an affirmative. His gaze lingered on Zoey, premonition tightening his chest muscles. He craved her company now. Then there was the question of her safety, even with Kennedy and her father arriving soon. He didn’t dare leave her unprotected for a minute. “I’ll ask Laredo to stand guard outside.”
He texted his brother and received the reply that he’d be right there.
“You don’t have to. And I imagine he has many other things to do other than babysit me.” She drained her cup, then got up.
He picked up their delicate cups and saucers, carried them to the kitchen, and nestled them in the dishwasher. The small porcelain seemed so fragile, and once upon a time, he thought she was fragile, too. He knew better now. But he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. “Your safety is important to me. You are important to me.” His gaze lingered on her. He wanted to say so many things, but he didn’t have the right to. Not now.
“And you are important to me.” She stepped to him, giving him a whiff of her flowery perfume—the one she’d worn before the aroma specialist’s sophisticated recommendation.
His heart jumped into his throat. The desire to kiss her again overwhelmed him, and it took all his willpower not to do so. It took all his willpower and then some not to lean to her, not to blurt out that... that he’d fallen for her. He knew it now. He’d known it for a while. He just hadn’t allowed himself to admit it.
But now it was bright and vivid in front of his eyes like grass after the rain. He loved her. He’d always love her. “I feel like I’m close to a breakthrough in the investigation. And once this is over, I’ll need to tell you something.” He searched her sunshiny hazel eyes, wondering what answer he’d get.
“I’ll need to tell you something, as well.” Those eyes aglow, she held his gaze.
He traced her lovely face with his fingertips, her skin smooth under his touch. “It’s about you. And me. Us. If there can be an us. I mean... I understand if you want to return to Lazoria...” At this point, he’d follow her across the ocean. He’d even follow her into the ocean. Would his family understand? They’d have to, though separating from them would be difficult.
He loved his family, his home state, and his hometown. His home. But now he found a new home in her eyes.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she whispered.
His heart fell to the fancy marble floor. “You’re going to return to Lazoria.” Would she even want him to go with her?
“No, I meant...” His phone rang in his pocket, and she shifted back, piercing his heart again. This time, with disappointment. “You might want to get that.”
He fished out his phone from his jeans pocket and glanced at the screen. “Laredo is outside already. He was in town to buy tractor parts.” Barrett searched her eyes again. He couldn’t confess his feelings while he was her bodyguard, but his gut feeling told him not to leave yet. “What did you want to say?”
The doorbell made him cringe.
She looked away. “It’s okay. It can wait. That must be my father and cousin.”
“Right.” He checked the cameras. She was right. It was his cue to leave.
Kennedy and Mr. Crawford greeted them warmly as they walked in. But weariness shadowed their eyes, and the man looked paler than usual. He leaned on his cane—and on Kennedy. Zoey and her family had a lot to discuss, and Barrett had a mission to accomplish.
After exchanging a few polite words, he hurried outside and waved at his brother, who was sitting in his truck. “Thanks, bro.”
Laredo rolled down his window. “It’s what family is for.”
He always had a kind heart, and it was a mystery how no woman had claimed it yet, though many had tried. Especially after he’d started playing the guitar and singing on Friday nights at a local restaurant.
Then Barrett jammed his truck into gear and drove away, uncertainty roiling his stomach. He pressed on the gas pedal, and his thoughts buzzed like hungry bees as other things fell into place. Zoey had told him she’d felt someone was playing a role, and she was right.
Once he knew the answers to his remaining questions, he’d go to the police. Then he changed his mind. He’d have to go to the police now and tell them about his suspicions.
He was desperate to wrap up this investigation, desperate for Zoey to feel safe—to be safe—once and for all. And he had a selfish reason. He needed a chance with her more than he needed his next breath.
He loved her.
It was that simple and yet that complicated. He loved her from the moment he’d first seen her, and he’d love her for the rest of his life. His chest swelled.
A call from an unknown number interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t like such calls, but this could be a new client needing his help. He answered on the hands-free phone, “Hello, Barrett Lawrence speaking.”
After a pause, a mechanical voice droned into his truck cab. “I have Austin. If you don’t come in ten minutes to the cliff...” The voice named the location. “Then your brother is as good as dead.”
He went cold, and his fingers wrapped tighter around the steering wheel. That infamous cliff had already cost one person their life and injured several others.
Think.
This could be a bluff, or at least he hoped so. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? I need proof of life.”
“Fine.” After some scuffling, his brother groaned on the line. “Barrett, listen to me. Don’t fall for it.” Something clunked as if he’d been hit, but Austin yelled, “Don’t do it!”
Then the mechanical voice spoke again, “If you want to see your brother alive, you have ten minutes.”
Everything in Barrett shattered. But voices could be altered and/or imitated. It could be a robot speaking, sounding like Austin. Could Barrett take that chance, though? “That’s not enough time to get to the cliff.”
“Then you should hurry up. Come unarmed. Oh, and don’t get the police involved. Otherwise, more people will suffer. Like Zoey.” The line went dead.
He turned to the road leading to the ocean, the wheels in his head spinning as fast as the wheels of his truck. Yes, it was a trap. He knew that. And yet—
Lord, please help Austin be okay.
Barrett called Austin, hoping against hope that a bot imitated his voice. His brother didn’t answer his cell phone, so he called the vet clinic. There, Austin’s assistant said he’d left about an hour ago for a house call, but she didn’t know the address he’d gone to. The client had called him directly instead of calling reception. Huh. He rarely made house calls.
Gritting his teeth and flooring the gas pedal, Barrett called Zoey and relayed the conversation. The unknown caller had said not to involve the police, but he didn’t say anything about family or loved ones. Zoey was already his loved one, and if Barrett was getting out of this alive, he wanted her to be his family, too.
To her credit, she didn’t hesitate, didn’t go into a stupor. “I’ll talk to Kennedy. Do you want me to call your brothers? We’ll figure this all out.” Then her voice choked. “I’m following Kennedy to the emergency room right now. Dad felt unwell and had to be taken to the hospital. I–I can’t imagine what will happen to her if she loses the two most important people to her at the same time. And she’s pregnant! All this stress could be bad for the baby. We’ve got to get Austin back.”
Amazing how Zoey always managed to think about others. He ran through a yellow light about to turn red. “If anyone besides me shows up at the cliff, the caller might leave and kill Austin.”
“Barrett, no! It’s a trap.” Her voice rose an octave. “The voice... the voice might be false.”
An incoming message pinged his phone. He slowed down and risked glancing at the screen, though normally he wouldn’t do it while driving. Ice crystallized in his veins. It was a photo of Austin tied up and with a gash on his head. Yes, a lot could be achieved with good photoshopping skills, and yet just as easily, the photo could be real.
“I realize it, but I have Austin’s photo, as well.”
A sob traveled down the line, breaking his heart. “Barrett, no! Please.”
He’d give her the world if he could, but he couldn’t give her this. “I must do this. And you need to support Kennedy and your father.” Tears prickled his eyes. “If you don’t hear from me in twenty minutes, get one of my brothers to go to the police. Or call the police.”
“Twenty minutes is too long.” How resigned she sounded! Had he stolen all her hope?
“Please. Here’s what you need to tell the police.” He was getting close to the meeting place. He glanced at the dashboard. Less than three minutes to spare. He was running out of time. He rattled off, sharing his suspicions and the phone number the call had come from, though it must’ve been a burner phone. “And... I... I love you, Zoey. I just wanted you to know.”
“Barrett, wait!”
He disconnected, parked, and jumped out of the truck. He was out of time. His pulse thundering in his temples, he took off on a run, and his legs pumped like they’d never done before.
All the while, he kept praying. For Zoey, for her father, for her cousin, for Austin, and okay, even for himself. Barrett had risked his life plenty of times before, but this time, he wanted to survive for Zoey. Even if he was now doing what he’d never advise other people to do.
Going here without backup was reckless. But if there was even a minuscule chance, even half a percent, to save Austin, then Barrett had to take it.
He saw the posture from far enough, and it spurred him on. The person he’d suspected met him on the cliff. Austin was nowhere in sight, and Barrett didn’t expect him to be.
Their only hope was to buy time and get information. He’d talked to criminals many times before. He could do this. His brother’s life depended on it. Barrett’s own life depended on it.
He ripped off his jacket, threw it onto the grass, and raised his arms. He had a boot knife, but his opponent didn’t need to know that. “I’m here. I’m unarmed. Where’s Austin?”
The person sneered. “You’re one minute late.”
“Only a minute.”
“Rules are rules.”
Time to change tactics. “You had a brilliant plan to get me here.” He infused admiration into his voice. “I have to admit, you planned everything brilliantly. It took me a while to start suspecting you.” He could attempt a tackle, but he needed to get that person away from the edge. It was too close.
Considering that he wasn’t shot yet, the suspect must plan to make it look like an accident. Maybe they thought he didn’t tell anyone about this meeting. He’d take advantage of that. He let the bracelet Zoey had made for him slip off his wrist, so she—and the police—would know he’d been here. Well, his truck and jacket should be a good enough sign, but still. There was another reason he’d needed to leave the bracelet. It all started with a bracelet, and it had taken him too long to see it.
“But you did start to suspect me.” The person lifted a gun. “Come closer.”
That text requesting a meeting was a mistake. One that might cost his life.
They said that in such moments one’s entire life would flash in front of their eyes.
But it wasn’t the past he could see in his mind now. It was the future with Zoey. Her smiling face as she presented a new tapestry. Opened her own exhibition. Walked down the aisle toward him in a wedding dress, her eyes luminous. Held a baby in a flower garden while birds sang a hymn to a new life...
His throat constricted. “It doesn’t have to end like this.”
“Too late now. You already know the truth. Come closer, or I’ll shoot.”
He needed to stall, and he needed to do a better job of it. “I’m not the only one who knows the truth. It’s over for you.” That should prolong the conversation and give the police a chance to get here, right?
“Who else knows?”
“Why don’t we talk about it in a different place? Away from the cliff?” He considered tackling his opponent again. But he just needed them to be further from the edge. It should be doable.
The blue eyes widened. “Oh, I see what you’re doing. You’re bluffing!”
Then the person charged at him. Barrett staggered from the impact, desperate to hold on, but the next moment, they both tumbled off the cliff.