‘Shit. Busted big time.’
‘She was pale and shaking and holding a rifle I didn’t even know she owned. She thought the man was there to kidnap me and she was going to blow his head off. But when she saw I wasn’t afraid, she listened to the conversation. She asked me why I’d done it. I told her everything, and she sat down on the floor and cried. Big, huge sobs. I hugged her, told her it would be all right. She said she was crying for me because I’d had to make that decision, because I’d felt so alone and had no one to help me. I thought she’d tell my mother, but she never did. She did take the gun away, though, and gave it to my grandfather when we moved to Ohio once Stone was able to travel. Mom sold the apartment in Lexington and never went back. My grandfather put the gun in his safe, but his combination was easy to guess.’
‘The date of the liberation of Bataan?’
‘You got it. When we moved to Cincinnati, I was still having nightmares. Stone’s were worse, so I took the gun and slept with it under my pillow. My grandfather’s house – which now belongs to my mother – has eight bedrooms, but Stone and I shared a room until I joined the Army. When he was really little, my having the gun made him feel better, knowing I could protect him. Later, he got his own guns.’ He sighed. ‘He has more weapons than a lot of small countries. Knows how to use them, too. He’s a helluva shot and he has black belts in three different martial arts.’
She was quiet a long moment. ‘Did you ever tell him what your father had done?’
‘No. He was so fragile for so long that I didn’t dare. But I did tell him that the men who hurt him were dead. I cut out the article from the newspaper and showed it to him.’ Marcus swallowed hard. ‘He slept with that article under his pillow until the paper disintegrated. I went to the library and downloaded a copy and laminated it at school. I don’t know what he did with it after that.’
‘You protect him.’
‘He’s my brother. He knows I carry a lot of guilt, but he thinks my hero complex is because I didn’t save him from the men that hurt him. And because I couldn’t save Matty. I’ve considered telling him a thousand times, but I always figure, what’s the point? He has enough issues to work through.’
She was quiet for so long that he glanced over at her. ‘You don’t agree?’ he asked.
She shrugged. ‘He’s your brother. But I suspect he may be stronger than you think. Anyway, back to the gun. Didn’t your grandfather ever miss it out of his safe?’
Marcus smiled grimly. ‘He knew. Who do you think taught me to shoot?’
She shook her head as if to clear it. ‘He let an eight-year-old have a loaded gun? What kind of man was your grandfather?’
‘A man who knew what it was like to fight with demons in your dreams. And he didn’t let me have it. Not at first. He kept putting it back in the safe and I kept taking it out. He kept changing the combination and I kept figuring it out. Finally we came to an understanding that I wouldn’t keep it loaded. He took the clip. He didn’t know I’d hidden a loaded clip of my own.’
She frowned. ‘That gun could have gone off in the middle of the night!’
‘No, because I kept the gun under one pillow and the clip under the other. I practiced until I could load it in seconds. But I was careful. I didn’t want Stone to get shot by mistake.’
She shook her head again, harder. ‘I was thinking about it going off and shooting you in the middle of the night.’
He hesitated, then decided to trust her with the rest of it. ‘I don’t think I would have cared, Scarlett. There were times I almost hoped it would.’
She turned fully in her seat to face him and it took only a glance to see that all the color had drained from her beautiful face. ‘What?’ she whispered.
‘I still wrestle with what I did that day. I know you think I’m absolved because of my age, but three people are dead who never got their day in court.’
‘You think they deserved their day in court?’
‘No, but my mother deserved to look her husband in the face and know that she wasn’t to blame for Matty’s death because she called in the FBI. I could never tell her.’
‘Because if you’d told her, you’d have had to tell her what you did too. Oh, Marcus.’
‘I made my bed. I’ve had to lie in it all these years. It’s hard enough now that I’m old enough to process everything that happened, but then I was just a messed-up kid. The year I was nine, I came damn close to not seeing ten.’
‘You wanted to kill yourself?’ she asked in a trembling voice. ‘When you were nine?’
He nodded gravely. ‘But I never did. Partly because of Gayle. That she knew and still loved me . . . it made a difference. And partly because Stone still needed me. I couldn’t leave him alone. But some days I wished for quiet in my mind because all I heard was killer, killer, killer.’
‘How did you survive the Army? You had to have killed the enemy.’
‘More than my share,’ he murmured. ‘The Army helped Stone conquer some of his fears. It helped me too. Because by the time I joined up, I was old enough to understand what I was doing and it helped me keep the perspective that the people who kidnapped Matty, Stone and me were the enemy. It helped me square it in my own mind. But it still haunts me. All of my kills do. That’s one of the reasons we rarely get physical with the people we target at the Ledger. I draw the line at gentle coercion. Although recently . . . especially after Mikhail, it’s been hard. I’ve found myself tempted so many times to just shoot the damn bastards and be done with it. Then they can’t hurt their families again. But I’ve stayed on my side of the line. Just barely.’
She nodded unsteadily. ‘Me too. So we’ll prop each other up. But you have to promise me if you ever consider . . . ending yourself again—’
‘I haven’t,’ he interrupted, ‘not since I was ten. That’s when Mom met Jeremy. We were a real family then. Mom was so happy. She got pregnant with Audrey and then we had a baby in the house again. Mom meeting Jeremy O’Bannion was the best thing to ever happen to us – the dad he didn’t have to be. He was only twenty-one when he met Mom. Only eleven years older than me. He could have taken the role of big brother, but he seemed to know how much I needed a father. And he’s always been that for me.’
Scarlett wiped her eyes. ‘I’m glad,’ she said simply, then pointed at the road sign. ‘This is the exit for Saint Barbara’s. Remember, don’t call me Detective.’
‘I won’t.’ He didn’t want to lie to the Bautistas, but he didn’t want to scare them away either.
She smoothed her dress and checked the visor mirror. ‘I look like I’ve been crying, but it makes me look like less of a cop, so the puffy eyes are okay.’
‘You look beautiful.’
‘Thank you. So do you. Do you need anything before we talk to Mila and Erica?’
He squeezed her hand. ‘Just be with me.’
‘Let anyone try to pry me away.’
Twenty-nine
Georgetown, Kentucky
Wednesday 5 August, 8.40 A.M.
Scarlett and Marcus met Trace in the vestibule of Saint Barbara’s. Scarlett had been nervous about seeing her uncle again, but Trace obliterated any nerves with a huge bear hug. She held on a few more seconds than she needed to, because for that moment in time he’d made her feel like a child again. Like the past ten years of her life hadn’t happened.
Like she wasn’t standing in a church of her own free will.
He set her down and tipped her face up, his smile changing to a frown. ‘You’ve been crying.’ He turned his frown on Marcus. ‘What did you do to her?’
‘He’s done nothing,’ Scarlett said firmly. ‘We’ve been talking and I’ve been emotional.’ She slid her arm around her uncle’s waist. ‘Uncle Trace, this is Marcus O’Bannion. He tried to help Tala, was with her when she died. Marcus, Father Trace.’
Marcus stuck out his hand. ‘Father,’ he said politely. ‘You’re the first member of Scarlett’s family that I’ve had the privilege to meet
.’
Trace looked down at Scarlett, his brows lifted. ‘Oh, he’s good.’
She laughed. ‘I know.’
Her uncle shook Marcus’s hand. ‘They’re waiting for you in the choir room. Scarlett, I’ve told them only that you’re my niece.’ He hugged her to him again. ‘You look very non-coppish. I’ll let you decide when to tell them who you are.’
‘Are they okay?’ Marcus asked. ‘Physically?’
‘Their feet are pretty cut up. They walked for miles without shoes. I’m so thankful they were picked up by a good person. The trucker recognized that they were afraid and he didn’t ask many questions. One of the women in the church washed their feet and bandaged them, but you’ll want to have them seen by a doctor. You won’t have any trouble communicating from a language standpoint. Their English is impeccable. But they didn’t say much. I showed them the pictures of Mr Bautista and young John Paul, but other than crying and giving prayers of thanks that they were safe, they didn’t say anything more. They’re still very afraid.’
He led them into the church and Scarlett suddenly found it very hard to breathe. She hadn’t been lying to Trace. After all the talking she and Marcus had done, her emotions were like a seething cauldron in her gut. Adding to that the memories of Michelle that had been dredged up when she’d found Tala dead in the alley . . .
She swallowed back the lump in her throat and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. But then Marcus took her hand and held it securely in his. Breathing in the scent of his aftershave, she let it calm her.
‘You okay?’ he whispered.
She tightened her hold. ‘Yes.’
They followed her uncle into the choir room and both she and Marcus went abruptly still. Two petite women sat on metal folding chairs, holding hands even more tightly than Scarlett held Marcus’s. The older woman was visibly trembling, her eyes bright with tears. The younger was barely sixteen, according to the copies of the visas Immigration had provided, but she looked so much older. Her expression was remote, her dark eyes cold and her shoulders bowed.
‘She looks just like Tala,’ Marcus murmured, sounding spooked. He released Scarlett’s hand and stepped forward, going down on one knee in front of the women so that they could look him in the eye. ‘I’m Marcus,’ he said quietly. ‘And I’m so sorry for your loss.’
Mila Bautista’s body began to shake with suppressed sobs, which broke free when Marcus put his arms around them both. Tala’s mother leaned into his shoulder and cried, her heart broken.
Beside Scarlett, Trace sighed softly. ‘He’s for real?’
Scarlett had to blink away her own tears, Mila’s grief and Marcus’s compassion reaching right into her chest and squeezing her heart until it felt bloodless. She pressed the heel of her hand to her sternum to relieve the ache. ‘Yeah. He’s very real.’
‘I read online that he met Tala Bautista in an alley and tried to help her. Is he in the habit of helping strange young women in the middle of the night?’
She glanced up at Trace who was frowning worriedly. ‘Yes, actually, but not like you’re thinking.’ She quietly explained the situation, adding that Marcus had been shot at a second time and that his friend and the doorman had been shot last night. ‘But I still have to wonder who was the target in that alley – Tala or Marcus.’
‘It was Tala.’ Erica Bautista had pulled out of Marcus’s embrace, stroking her mother’s hair as Mila continued to cry against Marcus’s shoulder. The girl’s expression was hard and angry, and Scarlett certainly couldn’t blame her for that.
Scarlett pulled another folding chair over so that she could sit facing Mila. ‘Why are you so sure?’ she asked softly.
‘Who are you?’ the girl asked, her eyes narrowing shrewdly.
‘My name is Scarlett. Father Trace is my uncle. Marcus is my boyfriend and I’m afraid for him, for his safety, so I came along. We want to help you, but nobody really understands what’s happening here.’
Erica continued to study her. ‘You’re with the police,’ she said flatly.
Scarlett blinked, startled. Mila pushed Marcus away, lurching to her feet in panic. Scarlett knew that if she stood up she’d tower over the woman, so she remained seated. ‘I’m not Immigration. I’m not calling them. I’m here as my uncle’s niece. I’m not going to turn you in to anyone. You have my word.’
Mila looked down at Marcus, seeking confirmation, and he nodded. ‘She isn’t lying,’ he said. ‘She really is Father Trace’s niece and she really is my girlfriend. And she really wants to help you. I called her two nights ago when I knew I was meeting Tala. I wanted a woman there that I could trust.’
‘You trust her?’ Mila asked, trembling so hard that Scarlett thought she’d fall down.
‘With my life,’ Marcus said simply, and Mila slowly sat back down.
Scarlett breathed a silent sigh of relief. ‘How did you know?’
Erica shrugged. ‘He is Father Trace Bishop. You are Scarlett. The article in the newspaper said that Detective Scarlett Bishop was first on the scene.’
Scarlett winced. ‘Oh. I didn’t mean to deceive you. Well, yes, I did, but only so I wouldn’t scare you. I meant what I said. I’m not going to turn you in.’
‘Your partner is with the FBI,’ Erica said coldly.
Scarlett mentally reviewed the Ledger article in her mind, then turned to Marcus, puzzled. ‘You didn’t mention Deacon in that article, did you?’
Erica’s eyes rolled. ‘I Googled you, Detective. I used the church’s computer. I used to use computers all the time before we came here. It’s not that hard. Even for someone like me.’
‘Someone like you?’ Scarlett said gently. ‘You mean a victim of a despicable crime perpetrated by evil people who deserve to be locked up for the rest of their lives?’
Erica looked taken aback. ‘No. I meant . . .’
‘I know what you meant,’ Scarlett said. ‘I also know your father was a teacher and your mother a nurse. I know you are educated and smart. I just don’t like being tripped up so easily.’ She smiled at Erica and watched some of the girl’s tension drain away. ‘Your sister was incredibly brave and sacrificed everything to try to get her family to safety. I won’t let her sacrifice be in vain.’
Erica’s lips quivered at the mention of her sister, and both she and her mother began to cry. ‘We told her not to go,’ Erica sobbed. ‘We told her it was too dangerous.’
‘She was desperate,’ Mila added, wiping her eyes. ‘Because of Malaya . . . Tala was determined that her baby wouldn’t be raised in that house. So she took the chance.’ Her fists clenched. ‘I want to kill that man for what he did.’
Marcus covered Mila’s fists with his hands, a comforting gesture. ‘Chip Anders?’
Fire flashed in the eyes of both women. ‘Yes,’ Mila hissed. ‘And his wife and that daughter they spawned.’
‘He’s missing,’ Scarlett said. ‘It appears he and his family were taken away by force. Do you know by whom?’
Mila and Erica looked at each other, satisfaction mixing in with their fury and grief. ‘Not by name,’ Mila said. ‘But he was very scared yesterday when he realized Tala was missing.’
‘When did he find out?’ Scarlett asked.
Mila opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Erica leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder and answered for her. ‘When the tamper alarm went off,’ the young woman said. ‘Our trackers were wired into the house alarm. Mama and I weren’t allowed to leave.’
‘But Tala was,’ Marcus said. ‘Her job was to walk the dog.’
Mila’s lips thinned and she looked away. ‘No. Walking the dog was Stephanie’s job.’
‘The Anderses’ daughter,’ Scarlett said. ‘She’s home from college.’
‘She’s a bitch,’ Erica snarled.
Mila looked startled. ‘Erica! We are in a church.’
Erica didn’t look like she cared. ‘She is, Mama. You call her a spawn, I’ll call her . . . what I called her.’ S
he looked Scarlett in the eye. ‘I hope whoever took her makes her suffer like she made Tala suffer. I hate her.’ Her fury disintegrated into a choked sob. ‘She killed my sister. Her or that boyfriend of hers.’
Scarlett’s ears perked up. ‘Boyfriend? We don’t know about a boyfriend.’
‘Drake Connor,’ Erica spat.
Scarlett took the girl’s hand long enough to give it a brief, encouraging squeeze. She could barely contain her excitement at this new information, which she sensed might be the link they were looking for. ‘What did he do?’
Erica dropped her gaze to her lap, but not before Scarlett saw the shame in the girl’s eyes. ‘Whatever he wanted,’ she said, her tone gone dead.
Scarlett glanced at Marcus. ‘Do you want Father Trace and Marcus to leave?’ she asked quietly, and Erica nodded.
‘We’ll be outside,’ Marcus said, giving Scarlett’s shoulder a stroke as he walked away.
‘We’re alone,’ Scarlett said. ‘You can tell me anything you want without shame.’
‘Everyone will know,’ Erica whispered miserably. ‘They will know anyway because why else would he buy three women?’
‘You’re talking about Anders now. He bought you. Not Drake, right?’
Erica scoffed. ‘Drake was poor. He didn’t have any money. Stephanie dated him just to make her father mad. Her father bought us, all of us. He sent my father and brother away to work in his factory and he made my mother take care of his mother.’
‘You mean his aunt?’
‘Her too, but when we first came, Mama had to take care of his mother. She was bedridden.’ Erica faltered. ‘She wasn’t mean like him. She wanted to tell someone that we were being forced to work for no money, that he was . . . using us. But then . . . she killed her. Mr Anders’s wife put a pillow over her face and suffocated her.’
‘Marlene Anders,’ Scarlett said, and Erica nodded. ‘So Chip’s mother was killed by his wife?’
‘Because she sympathized with us,’ Mila whispered. ‘Marlene liked nice things. Liked having servants. She just didn’t want to pay for them. She liked having control.’