Love Inspired Suspense June 2021--Box Set 1 of 2, page 49
“Sir, I’ll speak candidly. The evidence implicates you in Kayla’s death and the garage bombing,” Trey said calmly.
Fredrick jumped to his feet. “What? Are you insane? What evidence?”
“A witness has come forward,” Justine inserted. Susan’s accusation most likely was a lie, but Justine didn’t add that part.
“That’s absurd! I’ve never hurt anyone, especially my own daughter. I must speak with Alex immediately!”
Trey remained seated. “I’m not saying I believe it, but we need proof you’re not involved. Signing the exhumation order would be a step in gathering additional evidence to exonerate you.”
“With the most recent events, Susan admitted to fearing for her own life,” Justine added.
Fredrick blinked. “She’s worried someone will try and hurt her?”
Trey nodded. “We have to find the real killer and protect Susan. I know you want what’s best for her.”
Fredrick slid onto the chair, shaking his head.
Several long seconds passed.
Finally, he said, “Yes, of course. The truth is the sole means to exonerate me from this ridiculous accusation and protect my wife. What do you need from me?”
“Your cooperation,” Trey said.
“What about the governor?” Justine asked.
Fredrick nodded. “Consider it done. Bring me the forms needed to authorize the exhumation.”
“Thank you, sir.” Trey bolted from the room and returned with the documents in seconds.
Once Fredrick had signed the forms, they returned to where Susan and Alex sat waiting. “You’re free to go.”
Susan quirked an eyebrow, her gaze bouncing between Fredrick and Trey. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve authorized the exhumation,” Fredrick said.
Susan jumped to her feet. “No! You can’t do that. Fredrick, no!”
“It’s for the best, darling,” Fredrick pleaded. No longer the strong businessman, now a concerned husband.
“Alex, stop him!”
“I can’t, Susan.”
Susan pointed a finger at Justine. “You won’t get away with this! Dr. Curtis won’t perform the examination.”
“Dr. Curtis’s services aren’t needed,” Justine said triumphantly.
FBI forensic anthropologist Taya McGill-Stryker was already on her way. For once, Justine had an ally in high places.
TEN
Justine tucked the pillow under her head, exhausted. The bright blue LED letters of her clock read 1:00 a.m. Clover padded across the bed and curled into a ball beside her, purring.
Winds ushered in the promise of a rainstorm, whipping tree branches against the house and waving her bedroom drapes. Justine shoved off the covers and walked to the open window, pausing to glance over the pasture. Fresh air laced with humidity filled her senses, and she tied back the curtains, inviting the breeze in.
“Thank You, Lord.” Gratitude overflowed her heart. They were close to solving the case. With Mr. Nolan’s capitulation on Kayla’s exhumation order and his promise to contact the governor and remove the ridiculous seventy-two-hour restriction, they’d made huge strides. Even Will had happily—or as happily as Will did anything—reported Barney had returned to his food-motivated self.
Things were definitely looking up.
Trey settled on the couch downstairs gave her a sense of comfort, though he probably longed to sleep in his own bed. Everything was coming together, and life would get back to normal. A bittersweet reminder that once they’d completed the investigation, Trey would be gone.
She sighed. That was best for everyone.
Sliding under the cool cotton sheets, Justine exhaled contentment and closed her eyes.
Sleep beckoned, and she willingly drifted off.
A thunderous roar jolted Justine awake, and she glanced at the clock. Nearly 3:00 a.m. Clover’s spot was vacant. Probably off hunting for mice somewhere. Lightning splintered the night, illuminating a shadow near the window.
Justine jerked upright, hand groping for the table lamp. The sensation someone watched her sent a shiver tingling down her spine. She flipped on the light and scanned the empty room.
A second roll of thunder and the sky opened, pouring down rain.
Maybe closing the window would be best. Justine scooted off her bed, planting her feet on the cool wooden floor.
Someone grasped her ankles, and she flew forward, landing with a hard thud, and knocked over her side table. The antique lamp crashed and shattered. Hands ripped her backward, dragging her across the old rug.
She clawed at the floor covering, failing to get traction and stop the assault. Her hand caught on a piece of glass, tearing into her skin.
Justine screamed, but the sound was muffled as the attacker smashed her nose into the worn hook braids. She fought, trying to throw him off, but he held her down, smothering her.
Magnum’s barks erupted outside the door.
Footsteps and a knock. “Justine, are you okay?”
Trey, help me!
Stars danced in front of her eyes, and she flailed, desperate for air.
The assailant’s hand threaded through Justine’s hair. He yanked back her head, restricting her cry.
“You should’ve walked away.” He breathed against her ear, then slapped tape over her mouth. A sting in her arm sent a cold tingle oozing through her veins.
Justine jerked, and something toppled to the ground.
He cursed. “No matter. I got enough injected to shut you up.”
Dizziness consumed Justine, and her mouth numbed.
The room spun, blurring her surroundings. Her arms were heavy, impossible to move.
“Figuring it out now?” The intruder cackled, something oddly familiar in his tone. He stayed behind Justine. “Don’t worry. You’ll be wide-awake to enjoy your demise.”
“Justine?” Trey knocked again.
In one swift motion, the man hefted Justine, then tossed her onto the bed. He rolled her over and pulled the sheet to her chin, tucking her in. Darkness and a black balaclava disguised his face. “Sweet dreams.”
Movement around the room ratcheted up her terror.
And then she smelled it.
Gasoline.
Justine turned her head, heard the splash of liquid hitting the floor.
Oh, Lord, no! Help me!
“Justine!” A thud against the door.
The intruder sat on the windowsill. “He won’t get in to save you.” A flash of lightning silhouetted his terrifying presence.
Thunder crashed, just as the man dropped the match, igniting the trail of gasoline. Like a speeding race car, the blaze zipped from the window to the door.
Frantic, Justine tried to roll, willing her body to move, but the quicksand of her bed held her down.
“Justine!”
Three repetitive thuds.
Smoke filled the space, burning her lungs.
A macabre dance of orange flames engulfed the room, a juxtaposition to the torrential downpour outside.
And the memories came crashing in, surrounding her with their terrifying claws. Dragging her back to the night of her father’s attempt to kill her and her mother.
But then, rescue had come in time.
Tonight, she would die.
“Justine! Hang on!” Trey called through the fog in her mind.
“Hang on,” a voice repeated, sounding so much like sweet Mrs. Scranton, the brave neighbor who’d pulled her from the inferno.
The woman who’d rescued Justine not just from the flames but from her nightmare childhood.
But Mrs. Scranton wasn’t here now.
Smoke stung her eyes, and she squeezed them shut. Lord, fight for me.
The heat intensified around her.
“Magnum, stay back!”
Strong arms lifted her. She was flying.
Then moving swiftly. Justine couldn’t open her eyes.
“I’m here. I’m here.” Trey’s voice carried to her.
Water splashed onto her face, and she sucked in a breath.
Painful coughs racked her body. Trey rolled her to the side, and she wheezed, gasping. Her lungs fought against the smoke’s intrusion.
“Are you okay?” Trey leaned closer. “Can you sit up?”
Justine blinked, rain cascading down her face. Unable to move, she watched the long wisps of fire reach out from her bedroom window.
“Send rescue. Structure fire, one party injured,” Trey said. “Help’s on the way. There’s—”
Barking in the distance. Justine turned her head and spotted flames from the Dog House.
Trey was already running across the property.
This wasn’t happening.
Her boys! Justine forced her energy into moving her hand, finally gaining a weak response from her fingers. The progress infused her with hope.
Frantic barks from the Dog House tore at her heart.
Were they okay? Lord, help Trey!
She couldn’t see him, and he’d been gone too long.
Where was Will?
Tingling returned to her hands, and Justine groped at the wet ground, nails grazing the grass and digging into the dirt beneath. The fire danced into the night air, stretching too close to the tree beside the house. She forced herself up and crawled across the lawn.
Six canines and Clover bounded toward her, then smothered Justine in a flurry of licks, wagging tails and the comfort of wet dog smell.
Trey rushed back to her side. “They’re all okay. Can you stand?”
“Will,” she gasped in reply.
Trey helped her up on wobbly legs. He braced her with an arm around her waist. “Will.” She coughed.
“He wasn’t in the building. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found.” The accusation in Trey’s tone struck a fresh wound to her heart.
Will wouldn’t do this.
Would he?
Sirens screamed in the distance, and the strobing lights of the fire truck and ambulance added to the fire’s radiance. The rescue vehicles pulled onto the property. Trey hoisted her into his arms, running for the two medics who’d burst from the rig.
“I think she’s been injected with something. She’s struggling to move and speak.” Trey placed her onto the stretcher as a female paramedic leaned in.
The woman ran her hands over Justine’s arm. “I see a puncture wound. Ma’am, do you know what you were injected with?”
Justine shook her head.
“We need to get her to the hospital.”
No. She couldn’t leave the ranch. Her boys. “No!” Justine said, startling herself. “It’s. Wearing. Off,” she stammered.
Trey corralled the dogs, securing their leashes. He moved them away from the burning buildings.
Justine gaped at the fire raging all around her.
Would the nightmare ever end?
* * *
Trey stood beside the garage. A mixture of fury, self-disdain and sorrow weighed down his shoulders.
A firefighter approached. Trey tried to remember his name but came up blank.
“It’s clear. We restricted the flames to the bedroom where they started, but there will be smoke and water damage throughout the house. Once daylight hits, the fire marshal will come and check it out.”
“It’s arson,” Trey said.
“Yep, accelerant marks around the bedroom prove that. Miss Stark is refusing to go to the hospital.” He gestured to where Justine sat on the lawn, gaping at the house.
“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” Trey shook the man’s hand. “Thanks for everything.”
Trey surveyed the damage as the firefighters and paramedics exited the property. Thankfully, the rains had helped stave off the flames, but the structures appeared badly damaged, and his heart hurt for Justine. Wet ash and soot lingered in the air, mingling with the fresh smell after the storm.
The constant condemning thoughts battled for attention. How had he let this happen? Who would do this?
He’d fallen asleep, but not before doing a full walk-through of the home and surrounding buildings. How had he not heard the intruder? Even Magnum hadn’t warned him. Had the interloper been inside the entire time, waiting? Or had Magnum not reacted because he was familiar with the man?
And if that was the case, Will topped his suspect list. Trey had issued a BOLO for Will, who’d mysteriously disappeared after they’d spoken last night.
Fury boiled his blood.
The sun would rise soon, and they’d determine the full extent of the loss. And their next steps.
Justine walked toward him, caressing Clover and accompanied by all five rescue dogs, keeping watch over their rescuer.
“Hey. Feeling better?”
Justine shrugged. “Whatever the jerk injected me with wore off quickly. The paramedic said he must’ve missed or failed to get it all inside the vein. Still no sign of Will?”
“No, but are you really surprised?” Trey bit his tongue. Now wasn’t the time. Once he pulled up the cameras, he’d have the proof against Will to convince Justine.
The rescue rigs disappeared from sight.
“Why would someone do this? Don’t answer that. I’m sure it’s pretty obvious.” Justine turned to Trey’s pickup. “If you hadn’t suggested locking the diary in your toolbox last night, it would’ve been destroyed.”
Perfect segue. Trey rushed to the truck, dropping the tailgate and entering the code on the lockbox. Justine joined him, and Trey tugged open the drawer, withdrawing the damp book. “Good thing you remembered. It still needs to air out.”
She took the diary, holding it gingerly. “I need to keep the pages separated so they don’t dry together. Let’s go inside and see if there’s anything salvageable from the case files.”
“Let me grab my laptop.”
Justine waited beside the porch steps, apprehension in her expression.
“Ready?”
They moved through the house, Justine’s footsteps slowing as they entered the hallway, then walked into the back room, directly below her bedroom. Soot and water dripped from the ceiling. The files were saturated, along with Justine’s evidence board.
Trey collected the box, and they went outside. “We’d better head to a hotel.”
Justine’s laugh held bitterness. “And what hotel is going to take my five dogs and overfed cat?” She gestured to the menagerie. “I’m not leaving.”
“You can’t stay in there.” Trey pointed to the house.
“It’s almost daylight. Not as if I’ll get a ton of sleep. We can sit out here.” Justine slid onto the porch swing.
The sun peeked over the horizon, filling the sky with streaks of orange and blue.
Dropping beside her, Trey placed his laptop on his legs and logged in. “Maybe the cameras caught the perp.”
He focused first on the house cameras.
“Got him.” Justine leaned closer to the laptop and pointed to a shadow slinking near the side of the house. “He avoids the cameras, as if he knows they’re there.”
Trey shifted to the barn’s vantage point. If he caught Will sneaking out of the structure, Justine would have to believe him. The video showed Will entering the outbuilding around midnight, after they’d parted for the evening. Then the screen went black and remained off.
“Did someone disconnect the camera?” Justine asked.
“Someone who knew it was there,” Trey clarified, selecting the footage to before they’d returned to the ranch. He watched with the intensity of a starving hawk.
The screen came to life, revealing Will sitting on the countertop in the barn. His cell rang. “What? I’m working. I’ll get the money. Just need a little more time.”
He sighed and stuffed the phone into his pocket.
Justine met Trey’s eyes.
Motive.
They continued watching as Will walked to each kennel, grumbling as he opened the doors, leaving Barney for last.
Trey gripped the laptop’s edge. If he hurt that dog...
“Boys, I’m in a mess. Y’all are the only friends I have.” Will dropped to the floor beside Barney, and the other canines surrounded him. “Nobody wants to employ an old codger full-time, but I can’t make it on these side jobs. I need to move and find real work, but how am I s’posed to up and leave Justine? She needs my help.”
Barney whined and thumped his tail.
“You understand what it’s like, being unwanted, don’t ya, boy?” Will leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. “Lord, You’re our Provider. Please make a way for me and Justine. Even that annoying cop friend of hers. Justine’s trying hard to be a light in a dark world. Bless her, Lord, and somehow allow me to be here for her. I’m grateful You’re using an old homeless man.”
Trey paused the video, loath to speak the words Justine deserved to hear. “I might’ve been wrong about Will.”
Justine’s eyes shone with satisfaction. “Humility is a wonderful trait.” She sobered. “Will’s not the monster you labeled him, but it doesn’t explain where he is.”
Why would Will disappear? Or had the intruder gotten to him? He thought about the tree house incident. Was Will in danger?
“Let’s check out the Dog House.” Trey set down his laptop and led the way to the barn.
The door had been removed by the firefighters, and it, like the house, dripped wet from the fire hoses. The dogs wandered in, sniffing around the room.
“Trey, look!” Justine pointed to Will’s accommodations. His bed was unmade, and his boots were beside the bed. “Will’s in trouble. He’d never leave without his boots, or that.”
They rushed to the black Stetson lying on the floor.
“Magnum.” The dog moved obediently to Trey’s side. He held out the hat and boots. “Track.”
Magnum sniffed both and shot out the door, forcing Trey and Justine to jog to catch up. The Malinois scurried through the property to the old brick silo, circling the building several times, then poked his head through one of the square open spaces. He dropped to a sit and barked.
