Closer Than You Think

‘It’s only FedEx. Chill, Faith. You almost scared me to death.’

  A louder male voice intruded. ‘Put the package on the floor and your hands in the air, sir. Greg, back away and walk over to Faith. Leave the box where it is.’

  Agent Colby, she thought. He’d somehow come up behind the man. She could see the deliveryman pale. Where was Agent Pope?

  Even paler than the deliveryman, Greg did what the agent said, backing away from the box and joining Faith in the bedroom doorway.

  ‘Faith, go back upstairs to the bedroom and close the door,’ Colby said grimly. ‘Do not open a window or pull back a shade. Sit on the floor, up against the wall on either side of the window. Do not come out until I tell you to. We’re on lockdown until further notice.’

  Faith took Greg’s trembling hand and helped him do as Colby demanded.

  ‘What’s going on?’ the boy asked, shaking all over.

  ‘I’m not sure. But you weren’t supposed to open the door,’ she said gently.

  ‘It was only the FedEx man.’

  ‘He’s wearing the right uniform. But you don’t know who he really is.’

  He shook his head. ‘We can’t sit against the wall by the window. The paint’s wet.’

  ‘Then we sit in the closet. Come on.’ She turned on the closet light and motioned him in first. ‘We’ll leave the door open.’

  She wished like hell she hadn’t left her handbag in Deacon’s room. She wanted her gun. Unhappy with her unarmed situation, she saw an X-Acto blade Deacon had used to scrape old paint from the window pane and grabbed it. Then she stood inside the closet door, waiting.

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 4 November, 9.35 P.M.

  Standing to the right of the guest house door with Bishop on the left. Deacon knocked.

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ Stone called from inside. ‘I don’t need any food.’

  Deacon knocked again, but said nothing. If they had to go in, they’d identify themselves, but right now he was hoping to bring Stone to the door.

  A labored sigh came from inside the house. ‘Fine. Come in. It’s unlocked.’

  Deacon gave Bishop a shrug and a nod. She pushed the door open, took a quick look and walked inside, Deacon a half-step behind her. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘We appreciate the invite.’

  Expression flattened with shock, Stone whirled around, one hand sliding under his jacket.

  Bishop raised her gun. ‘Don’t do that, please.’

  Indignation filled his eyes. ‘Who are you? What the hell gives you the right to barge in?’

  ‘You told us to come in. I’m Detective Bishop, Cincinnati Homicide. This is my partner, Special Agent Deacon Novak, FBI.’ She showed him her badge, Deacon following suit. ‘We just have a few questions for you. If you’d pull your jacket back, please? Then put your gun on the floor. It’ll be more comfortable if we can chat without pointing guns at each other.’

  Stone looked from Bishop to Deacon, then slowly did as Bishop asked. ‘I didn’t invite two cops into my house. I thought you were someone else. You did not identify yourselves.’

  Bishop blinked at him innocently. ‘Of course we did. Just now. If you missed it, I can repeat it for you. If you’d have a seat, I’d be ever so grateful.’

  Stone sat, his mouth curving in a confident smile. ‘To what do I owe this dubious honor?’

  He’d focused on Bishop, almost ignoring Deacon. Which was fine. Bishop could more than handle herself, giving Deacon the opportunity to watch. The fact that he was a suspected killer aside, Stone O’Bannion gave off a vibe that Deacon simply did not like.

  ‘We’re investigating a murder in which your name has surfaced,’ Bishop said. ‘If you’ll indulge us?’

  ‘Can I stop you?’

  Bishop smiled. ‘Not without looking guilty. Could you tell us where you were on Friday night between eleven and one?’

  ‘Would you mind putting your gun away?’ Stone asked blandly. ‘I’m cooperating, as you can see. I’d be much more cooperative without a gun in my face.’

  Bishop slid her weapon back into its holster, but kept her hand on the gun’s handle. ‘Better, I hope. Where were you Friday night? Between eleven and one?’

  Deacon’s phone buzzed and it took him a moment to place the assignee of the vibration pattern, but when he did, his whole body stilled. Agent Colby. Keeping his own expression as bland as Stone’s, he glanced at the message and his heart stopped. Actually stopped.

  Have a situation. Pope stabbed. Will need new safe house for witness. More soon.

  Deacon’s pulse stumbled into an erratic rhythm. Faith, he thought. And Greg and Dani.

  ‘Agent Novak?’ Stone asked mockingly. ‘Anything wrong? Perhaps you need to leave?’

  Deacon fought back the urge to knock the smirk off the asshole’s face, pasting a bland smile back on his own. ‘Not at all.’ Be all right, Faith. Please be all right.

  And Agent Pope too, of course. What the fucking hell had happened?

  ‘You were about to tell Detective Bishop where you were on Friday night.’ Deacon caught the flicker of worry in Bishop’s eye. ‘While I make a quick phone call.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to tell you,’ Stone said. ‘But I was going to ask why you want to know.’

  Deacon heard Bishop reiterate their titles as he dialed his house, wishing that he’d gotten Faith another cell phone already.

  ‘When I ask where you were on Friday,’ Bishop was saying, ‘you need to stop wasting my time and tell me.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you’re terribly worried about my time,’ Stone flung back. ‘Or my Fourth Amendment rights. You two can take your questions straight to hell as far as I’m concerned.’

  Deacon’s home phone went to voicemail, so he hung up and texted Greg’s phone. R u ok?

  A new text came through, this one from Adam. Just heard abt trouble @ your house. On my way there. Deacon exhaled quietly as three certainties presented themselves.

  First, Adam would take care of things. He might not like Faith, but he loved Greg and Dani. Deacon texted a brief Thx. Hurry.

  Second, whoever had threatened Deacon’s family would pay. He kind of hoped Stone was involved, because he’d really enjoy wiping that damn smirk off the guy’s face.

  Third, Stone couldn’t have stabbed Agent Pope. Colby and Pope checked with each other every fifteen minutes, and it was a forty-minute drive from Deacon’s house to this one. That didn’t mean Stone was not guilty. It simply meant that there might be two men involved.

  But Stone held the position of lead suspect at this point because he was twitchy, his father had covered for him, he’d left the house at the right times, and he had mud on his boots.

  And to top it all off, I don’t like him.

  Deacon’s shoulders sagged in relief when a new text popped up from Greg’s number. It’s Faith. We’re okay. Hiding in closet. Colby has house on lockdown. Don’t know any more. Will call soon. Be careful. Don’t worry about us. Just catch this SOB.

  That she would tell him to be careful made him smile inside. Her admonition to catch the SOB helped him focus. Pocketing his phone, he looked up to see Bishop watching Stone coldly as Stone stared at them, bored. Or pretending to be.

  ‘So glad you could join us, Special Agent Novak,’ Stone drawled. ‘Do you have anything you’d like to share with the class?’

  Arrogant sonofabitch. But Deacon only smiled. ‘I’m sorry I interrupted as you started to tell Detective Bishop where you were on Friday night.’

  Irritation blazed in Stone’s eyes. His gaze ran up from Bishop’s toes to her face, pausing meaningfully to leer at her breasts. ‘You show me yours first.’

  Deacon wanted to blacken those leering eyes, but Bishop didn’t blink. ‘You’re a reporter,’ she said. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t heard about all the brouhaha out at the family manor.’

  ‘Not my family,’ Stone said. ‘Nothing to do with me, whatever it is.’

  ‘You’re not even the least bit curious?’ Bishop
pushed. ‘What kind of reporter are you?’

  ‘The kind that asks the questions,’ he answered coolly. ‘Not the kind that answers them.’

  Oh yeah, Deacon thought. It’ll be a pleasure to take this guy down.

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 4 November, 9.55 P.M.

  The door opened and Faith held her breath, clutching her pathetic little blade.

  ‘Dr Corcoran?’ Colby asked.

  She let the breath out. ‘We’re here. In the closet.’

  Colby came into the room, no smile on his face. ‘Agent Pope has been stabbed.’

  ‘By the FedEx guy?’ Faith asked, horrified.

  ‘I don’t know, but I don’t think so. The deliveryman is in the living room in handcuffs.’

  ‘Who stabbed Agent Pope?’ Faith demanded. ‘Is he seriously hurt?’

  ‘Don’t know who stabbed him. I found him against the side of the house, bleeding pretty badly, but he’s conscious. The knife’s still in his chest. Someone had dragged him from the back of the house. I’ve called a forensics team in. For now, the house is on lockdown. I’ve got a message into Agent Novak asking for a new safe house for both of you.’

  Greg’s eyes were huge. ‘What kind of knife is it?’ he demanded.

  Colby didn’t answer, deliberately ignoring the question. ‘I’m going back to Pope,’ he said loudly in a way that annoyed Faith, like he was talking down to Greg. ‘I need the two of you to stay put in this closet. Do you understand? Stay put.’

  He turned for the door and the next five seconds were a blur. Greg leapt from the closet to clutch a handful of the back of Colby’s suit coat. ‘What kind of knife was it?’ he shouted.

  Snarling, Colby spun, and, pinning Greg’s arm behind his back, shoved him face first against the freshly painted wall. ‘Not a wise move, kid. What the hell is wrong with you?’

  Greg’s face was a contorted mass of pain, fear and misery. One cheek pressed to the wall, tears ran down the other side of his face. ‘What kind of knife?’ he whispered.

  ‘Agent Colby, let him go! You’re hurting him!’ Faith snapped. Greg’s hearing aids were in, so she assumed he could hear her. She drew a breath, fighting to stay calm. ‘Let him go. You need to see to Agent Pope. I’ll take care of Greg.’

  Colby stepped back, breathing hard. ‘Call me if you need me.’

  Faith nodded grimly, realizing that not only had she left her gun in Novak’s bedroom, she’d left the cordless landline in the kitchen. How quickly she’d moved from not trusting cops and taking care of herself to total mindless complacency.

  Because I’m tired. I’m tired of all of this. And now one more person was hurt.

  She waited until Colby had left the room before gently turning Greg around. His right side, shoulder to knee, was covered in green paint, as was his cheek. He pulled away, slumping against the ruined wall and sliding to sit on the floor, his chest heaving like a bellows.

  He turned his face away. ‘Leave me alone.’

  Faith knelt beside him, gripping his chin hard enough to force him to look up at her. ‘Why did you ask about the knife, Greg? I need to know.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said thickly.

  ‘It does. I assumed that whoever did that to Agent Pope was here for me, but you panicked about the knife. Why? This is important. If this attack wasn’t about killing me, the police need to know. They might miss a lead elsewhere if they’re looking for clues here. People have already died, Greg. More might. Please tell me.’

  Greg closed his eyes. ‘Some kids at school threatened to hurt Dani.’

  Faith exhaled heavily. Novak had said that Greg had made a bad decision for the right reasons, and now Dani’s reaction when she and Greg had argued earlier made a lot more sense. She squeezed his chin lightly until he opened his eyes. ‘You got suspended for protecting Dani?’

  Greg nodded miserably, biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to cry. ‘They said they’d make me pay. They said they’d make her pay. I didn’t know they’d do this.’ He dropped his head back against the wall, closing his eyes again. ‘Everything is so fucked up and it’s all my fault. I fuck up everything I touch.’

  ‘I know how you feel.’

  His eyes opened, one blue and one brown. ‘You can’t.’

  ‘Oh yes, I can. When this is all over, I’ll tell you a story that’ll turn your hair whiter than Deacon’s.’ She was encouraged by his single chuff of laughter. ‘I promised you I wouldn’t do therapy on you and I won’t. But if you want to talk, I can listen very well. Now let me get something to clean the paint off your face. You’ve got a Hulk Smash thing going on.’

  Greg laughed again, two chuffs this time. Then sighed. ‘I ruined the wall.’

  ‘Technically, Agent Colby did that, but he’s running on adrenaline right now. As are we all. Do you have any clothes here yet?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, but I can borrow a pair of Deacon’s sweats.’

  ‘Okay.’ She smiled up at him. ‘You’ve got white and green streaks in your hair now. You could start a new fashion trend. Let me use your phone so I can call Dani and tell her what happened so that she can take appropriate safety measures.’

  He handed her his phone and Faith dialed, unsurprised when Dani picked up on the first ring. ‘Who is this?’ she demanded, panic in her voice.

  ‘It’s Faith.’

  ‘Oh God. That’s a relief. Greg only texts. I thought something was wrong.’

  ‘Something is. Greg and I are okay. He’s worried that you might not be because Agent Pope’s been stabbed.’ Quickly she filled Dani in. ‘Do you have security guards at your shelter?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dani said shakily. ‘We have a retired cop who volunteers. Will Pope be all right?’

  ‘I hope so.’ Faith could hear sirens. ‘Looks like the cavalry’s coming. I’ll keep you up to speed. Just be careful. I don’t know what happened to Greg or what kind of trouble he’s in, but he seems to think this threat was directed toward you, not me.’

  A weary sigh. ‘I’ll be careful. Tell him I love him.’

  ‘I will.’ Faith hung up and returned the phone to Greg, who had watched her every move. ‘Dani says she loves you.’ She got up, suddenly ready to sleep. Adrenaline crash. ‘I’m going to get a wet cloth to wash the paint from your face. Stay here. I’ll be back.’

  As she hurried through the living room, she spared a pitying glance for the terrified FedEx man still kneeling on the carpet, his hands cuffed behind him.

  ‘I don’t know what’s happening,’ she said before he could ask.

  Outside she could hear raised voices, but no specific conversations. The windows were thick and extremely well insulated. Novak had wanted his house to be secure.

  ‘I’m just delivering a package,’ the FedEx man said, his voice trembling. ‘That’s all.’

  Faith crouched next to the box, noting the return address without touching it. Daphne Montgomery, Hunt Valley, Maryland. A Daphne had signed the group photo on Novak’s desk, so this was likely a legit delivery. ‘I’m afraid that you walked into the wrong place at the wrong time,’ she said sympathetically. ‘Hopefully we can get you out of here quickly.’

  She grabbed the cordless phone, then ran back to Novak’s bedroom for her gun, looping her purse over her shoulder and opening the flap so that she could get to her weapon if she needed to.

  Feeling far more confident, she called Novak’s cell phone from the landline as she wet a cloth in his bathroom.

  He answered immediately, his voice almost a whisper, but his relief as clear as if he’d shouted. ‘Thank God. Colby says you two are all right. Are you?’

  ‘Yes, but Greg’s shaken up. He told me he thinks Pope was stabbed by whoever threatened Dani.’

  A beat of silence. ‘Did you tell Colby?’

  ‘Not yet. Should I?’

  ‘No. Let me do it. Thanks for calling me. My heart stopped when he sent me that text.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll take care of Greg and I cal
led Dani to tell her to be careful. She says she has security at the shelter where she is.’

  Another beat of silence. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything,’ she said softly.

  ‘You’re taking care of my family. That’s a lot. Just tell Greg . . . Hell, I don’t even know.’

  ‘How about that you love him?’ Faith supplied.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said gruffly. ‘That. Thanks. I’m in an interview now, but I’ll call when I can.’

  ‘Deacon, wait.’

  ‘Yes?’ he asked, his whisper going from gruff to . . . intimate.

  The one word curled around her, leaving her warm. And missing him fiercely. ‘Greg answered the door to a FedEx delivery. I tried to stop him, but he’d already opened the front door. Anyway, the package needed to be signed for. The return address is Daphne Montgomery in Hunt Valley. If you could verify with her that she sent a package, they could uncuff the poor FedEx man.’

  ‘Daphne?’ She could hear his smile. ‘I can’t right now, but I can give you her number. You could call her. I’ll send her contact info to Greg’s phone. I’ll call you when I can.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 4 November, 10.15 P.M.

  Deacon hung up, swallowing his exhale. They’re both okay. He met Bishop’s worried eyes and gave her a small nod, saw her relax.

  Stone O’Bannion watched them both warily. ‘What’s going on here?’

  Bishop pointed to his shoes. ‘Where have you been digging, Mr O’Bannion?’

  Stone didn’t blink. ‘Why is that your business, Detective?’

  Bishop was annoyed, but hid it behind a serene smile. ‘Please answer my question, Mr O’Bannion. Unless, of course, you feel it incriminates you in some way.’

  Stone made a show of rolling his eyes. ‘I’ve been interrogated by gorilla thugs of Third World dictators far scarier than you two, so don’t even try to intimidate me.’ He cast a glance at Deacon. ‘Although I have to say that none of them have looked like you, Agent Novak.’ He returned his gaze to Bishop, openly appreciative. ‘Or you, Detective.’

  Bishop didn’t rise to the bait. ‘Perhaps you missed part of our introduction. I’m a homicide detective. Agent Novak and I are conducting a murder investigation. You and your father have come up as persons of interest.’