Still Life

  Parker wrapped his arm around her, securing her in his loving embrace. “He . . . ?” He nodded.

  She nodded again, so thankful she didn’t have to say it out loud. But now Parker knew.

  She swiped at her tears, now gushing. “It went on until I ran away, talking Skylar into going with me.”

  “But Skylar went back?”

  “Only when she learned her mom was dying. She ended up staying and has been there since.”

  “But you never went back.”

  “Only twice to see Sky, after Fred and Peter moved to Florida.”

  “Did you ever press charges against Peter?”

  And tell the world her shame? She shook her head.

  “Maybe it’s time you do. Maybe that’s what you need to fully heal.”

  Fully heal? No matter how many hours she spent in prayer or in the gym punching the bag until her hands bled, she doubted she’d ever be whole. Peter took a part of her and replaced it with hot shame.

  “It would be my word against his,” she said.

  “I’m not trying to push you by any means. I just thought. . .” He clutched her tighter into his embrace. “I’m just shifting into protective mode, where I want to kill Peter, but that’s something only you can decide. Pray about it. See where God leads you, but pray, for Peter’s sake, that our paths never cross.”

  God had been leading her to hand it all over to Him, to stop fighting it, repressing it, trying to forget, but the weight had only grown heavier.

  “Have you given it to Jesus?” Parker asked, beyond perceptive. “What I can only imagine involves pain, anger, hurt, fear . . . ?”

  Tears bounced off their joined hands. “I want to. I’ve tried.”

  “But?”

  “I’m terrified.” Letting go equaled vulnerability. Something she swore she’d never be again for anyone. But this wasn’t anyone—this was her Savior.

  Parker engulfed her deeper into his embrace, and for once she didn’t stem the tears.

  She’d told the man she loved her dirty secret and his eyes were filled with nothing but love. How was that possible?

  He watched from the woods. What were they doing in there? Hugging? Was she crying?

  Had he made her cry? What the devil was going on?

  Avery he’d handle, though she’d no doubt put up another fight. She was stronger than he realized, but he was prepared now. He just needed to get Parker Mitchell out of the way.

  38

  After receiving a quick update on the progress of tracking Anajay Darmadi, Declan moved into his office, realizing he hadn’t eaten lunch and it was nearly time for dinner.

  He was too preoccupied to eat. He pulled up Anajay’s record and photo on his computer, staring into the man’s dark eyes. “Who are you?”

  “Tanner Shaw. We’ve met before.”

  He looked up to find Tanner standing in his office doorway.

  “Tanner. I was just . . .” He pointed at his computer. “Never mind. What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about Hana and her family.”

  “Hana . . . from the ship?”

  “Yes.” Tanner strode in and sat opposite Declan. “Immigration won’t tell me anything, and I want to know what’s happening with them.”

  “That’s really thoughtful of you—”

  “But?”

  “I didn’t say but.”

  “But you were going to.”

  Yeah, he was. “However . . .” he began with a smile.

  She looked the complete opposite of amused.

  “However, once Immigration takes the refugees, it’s out of my hands.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “It’s just the way it works.”

  “Just because something is the way it works doesn’t make it right.”

  As quickly as she’d entered his office, she left.

  He sat back in his chair, knowing he needed to focus the rest of his energy on the manhunt for Anajay Darmadi, not chase after Tanner’s wishes.

  He tried to focus. Really tried, but Tanner’s big eyes, her passionate plea, the image of her getting Hana and Adam to laugh and smile under such awful circumstances replayed over and over through his mind.

  With a grunt, he lifted the phone and called an old friend at Immigration.

  Six hours later, with no sign of either Gary or Crystal, Parker looked to Avery curled up in the seat beside him, using the blanket he always kept in the rear as a bunched-up pillow. She wasn’t asleep, but she was exhausted. It’d been a very long, very crazy few days.

  “I think we should call Griff and have him send that patrol car over,” he said, knowing they were reaching the limit of their effectiveness.

  “And if Gary or Crystal return?”

  “Griff will let us know.”

  She yawned. “All right.”

  That had been far easier than he’d imagined. She really must be exhausted.

  Parker called Griff, and within twenty minutes another officer was in place.

  Avery looked over her shoulder as they pulled out of the park. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just stay?”

  Parker stifled a yawn. “I’m sure.”

  “Getting too old for an all-night stakeout, are we?” she teased through another yawn of her own.

  “Something like that.” He smiled, knowing she needed her rest. They’d been going for hours—days, actually—and Avery was carrying a burden he couldn’t fathom.

  Please, Father, help her hand the burden over to you and to finally let go of it instead of trying to shoulder the weight. I know being strong and self-sufficient is important to her, given what she went through, but please help her to realize you are waiting with open arms to carry this for her and that you can be trusted to take this. That she can be vulnerable with you. That you are safe. That I am safe. Show her who you are fully and let her be consumed by your overwhelming love.

  Parker held the door of Charm City Investigations for Avery. He just wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go. And he wanted to take her straight home. She was exhausted, but Griffin had called as they were leaving the trailer park—said the word pizza and explained they were all meeting up to discuss where they were at on the case—so Avery insisted on going, but he wouldn’t let her stay long. She needed her rest.

  “Hey, slowpokes,” Griffin said, walking by with a Styrofoam plate piled high with pepperoni pizza.

  “Thanks for waiting for us,” Parker said jovially.

  “The stomach waits for no man,” Kate said, biting into her slice of Hawaiian. Always Hawaiian pizza with her.

  Parker placed a sheltering hand on the small of Avery’s back, and instead of jolting out of his hold, she sunk into it, making his heart soar. “We better get in there before Kate finishes off the food. She may be little, but her appetite is far from it.”

  Kate stuck her cheese-covered tongue out.

  “Real ladylike.” Griffin shook his head.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m known for,” Kate said, plopping down in one of the five leather chairs encircling the coffee table and dangling her legs over the side.

  Avery wondered about Luke, and particularly about the dynamic between him and Kate before his disappearance seven years ago. Kate’s latest photograph offered little more than a sliver of hope. But a little hope was better than none.

  “Avery,” Finley said, practically barreling across the floor. “It’s so good to see you again.” She gave her a big hug.

  “You just saw her two days ago,” Parker said, but he totally knew the feeling. He loathed every minute Avery was out of his sight. He wasn’t him without her. Not the him that came fully alive in her presence.

  “Hence, good to see you again.” Finley smirked. “Griff has been catching me up to speed.”

  “Why don’t we all take a seat in here so we can go over everything together?” Declan called from the conference room.

  Everyone got their plates and took a seat for the second ti
me in close to as many days. Despite the awful circumstances, it felt like a family gathering together for dinner, and it made Avery feel a part of something good and healthy, which she’d never experienced before.

  “So run through the updates, Declan,” Kate said, tossing Declan a dry-erase marker. “You’ve got the board.”

  “First, did you tell everyone about the shooting?” Parker asked Declan, catching the story while grabbing his pizza.

  “Shooting?” Griffin said.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Parker said.

  “We’re here to go over Skylar’s case, not mine.”

  “We have time for both,” Avery said. “Please, go ahead.”

  Declan shared what he could, and when he finished everyone expressed gratitude he hadn’t been shot as well.

  “You need to be careful. Watch your back,” Griffin said.

  “Yeah, it made an impression, to say the least,” Declan said.

  “I imagine a bullet will do that,” Kate said, sitting cross-legged and cupping her mug of cocoa she’d made.

  Declan shook his head. “I still can’t fathom cocoa and pizza.”

  “Yeah, Katie, that’s just wrong,” Griffin said.

  “I’m not asking either of you to try it. Now, Declan, get back to the board.”

  Avery settled in to listen.

  Working the board was Declan’s thing—running logical, known facts. Griffin read people. Parker found stuff, and Kate . . .

  Kate. Avery thought a moment. She was a hacker extraordinaire, but in addition to her cyber genius, she somehow kept all the guys in line despite being—at least upon first impression—a rebel. She loved the guys fiercely and steadfastly like brothers. And she loved Luke, a man she hadn’t seen or heard a word from in seven years. It made Avery wonder about the depth of love they shared.

  “Parker, you start,” Kate said.

  “We started the day at Wells Fargo and Skylar’s safe deposit box.”

  “There was nothing in it,” Avery said, “but we identified Crystal Lewis as the one who forged Skylar’s signature.”

  “We searched her premises and located the safe deposit box key along with her fake Skylar Pierce ID, among others,” Griffin said.

  “Where are we at with Amanda King and Kyle Eason?” Avery asked.

  “I was thinking you and Parker could speak with them tomorrow,” Griffin said. “Kate and I think the lot of them are lying through their teeth, but I want to see what kind of read Parker gets off them.”

  “Sure,” Parker said.

  “Any word from your guy watching Crystal?” Parker asked Griffin, who shook his head.

  “Sorry, man.”

  Avery fought back a grunt. Gary and Crystal had to show up sooner or later. “But you know what I keep wondering . . .”

  “What’s that?” Parker asked.

  “What does this gig Skylar was supposedly working and the contents of that box—which we’re assuming involved the dirt she had on Kyle Eason—have to do with Sebastian Chadwyck?”

  “I don’t know that it does,” Griffin said. “There’s a good chance we’re looking at two separate things.”

  Avery inhaled and let it go. If they were going to fixate on anything or anyone in particular it had to be Sebastian Chadwyck. “Where are we on finding Sebastian?”

  “I’ve watched his credit cards,” Kate said. “No activity since the night of the showing.”

  “And no hits on the APB that was put out on his motorcycle,” Griffin said.

  “I also placed an officer down the street from Megan Kent’s place. I have a strong feeling she’s the one who’s going to lead us to Sebastian, but so far no movement.”

  “She did make a bunch of calls to one number,” Kate said. “I traced it, and it turned out to be a burner cell, so I’m assuming Sebastian’s, though it’s already been dumped. But she keeps calling the number.”

  “Sounds like she’s panicking. Tomorrow might be a good time for another visit,” Griffin said. “You and Avery made a connection with her. How about you talk to her tomorrow?”

  “You got it,” Avery said. “And Gerard?”

  Griffin shook his head. “I don’t believe he had any involvement in this other than choosing the disgusting exhibit theme and being an egomaniac.”

  That about summed him up.

  Declan shifted his gaze to Tanner. “Since we have our next steps figured out on this case . . . on a completely different note, I called a friend at Immigration, and he is seeing what he can find out about Hana and Adam.”

  Avery looked to Parker, confused.

  Tanner straightened, surprise and joy forming on her face. “Thank you.”

  Declan nodded.

  Okay, so something about the refugees, Avery assumed, noting the shift between Declan and Tanner. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was different, more congenial. Dare she say friendly?

  “All right,” Parker said, squeezing Avery’s shoulder. “Time to get you home.”

  She would have argued, but she could barely keep her eyes open.

  He’d spent the entire day readying his new studio for Avery. It was perfect. Just as she was perfect. He’d sketched out a number of poses but decided to go with his original vision. Now he just had to take her from Parker Mitchell.

  39

  Parker followed Avery down the narrow sidewalk leading to the alley by the rear of her Fed Hill townhome. There’d been no front street parking, so they’d had to go around the rear and then cut through the alley connecting the townhomes. As Avery unlocked her back door, Parker spotted a shift of movement in the shadows.

  His muscles coiled.

  “Here.” He handed Avery his gun and whispered in her ear. “Get inside.”

  “What?”

  The shadow moved and a man raced down the alley.

  “Go!” Parker shouted. He heard her door slam shut as he rounded the corner after the man. Without his weapon, he’d need to tackle the perpetrator.

  The brick alley was dark, cool. It only went through the row of townhomes connected to Avery’s before ending at a ten-foot-high fence on the east side.

  Sprinting, he made ground on the intruder, reaching out and tackling him just as he started up the fence.

  Pulling his knife from its sheath, Parker held it to the man’s neck, not risking any chance that he might be armed.

  The light from the streetlamp outside the fence hit the man’s face as Parker hauled him to his feet.

  Parker hitched slightly. “Gary?”

  “Gary?” Avery said as she opened her front door, stepping back and passing the gun off to Parker as they moved inside.

  Parker slipped his knife back into its sheath and aimed his gun at Gary. He’d patted him down in the alley but found only a pocketknife. If Gary had come to threaten Avery, he’d come sorely under-armed. A pocketknife would hardly faze her.

  “Take a seat on the couch,” Parker indicated with a wave of his gun.

  “What are you doing here?” Avery asked, pacing, arms linked across her chest.

  “Looking for you.”

  That was backward. He was looking for them? “Why?”

  “Because I want to know why you and those men were searching Crystal’s place.”

  “You saw us?”

  “I came around the back side of the park and spotted a parked car I didn’t recognize and then saw you guys coming out of Crystal’s place. What were you looking for?”

  “What she took from Skylar’s safe deposit box,” Avery said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Really? What about this?” She showed him the photo of Crystal pretending to be Skylar at the bank.

  Gary swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

  “What were you after?” Avery pressed.

  “What Sky had in that box.”

  “Which was?”

  Gary stalled.

  “Crystal is looking at federal charges for bank f
raud. You’re her accomplice. Now, we can put in a good word for you or say you didn’t cooperate. It’s up to you.”

  “What? I ain’t no accomplice.”

  “No? You made her the fake ID she used to commit fraud.”

  “I didn’t know she was going to commit fraud with it.”

  “What’d you think she was going to do? She’s over twenty-one. It’s not like the old days when we wanted to get into the bars underage.”

  “I . . . I didn’t know what she was going to do with it.”

  “Sure you didn’t. I bet Crystal will say otherwise.”

  “She’s not going to talk to you.”

  “After how you just rolled on her?” Avery said, pacing in front of him, hands fixed on her hips. “Please, she’ll be blabbing off everything you’ve ever done.”

  “Like Avery said, we can put in a good word for you,” Parker offered. “Sounds like you could use somebody helpful on your side.”

  Gary huffed and swiped his baseball hat off. “Fine.”

  Avery took a seat.

  “It was some test.”

  Avery glanced at Parker and then at Gary. “Test?”

  “Yeah, Crystal looked it up. It’s the one you take when you want to get into medical school.”

  “An MCAT?” Parker said.

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  This was all over some stupid test?

  “Was there anything else in the box?” Avery asked.

  “Yeah, another form. A rental agreement. Had the same guy’s signature on it, but the signatures were different.”

  Someone cheated on their MCATs, and Skylar had proof. “What was the name on the MCAT?” Parker asked, adrenaline coursing, wondering if it was who they suspected.

  “Some guy named Kyle Eason.”

  He strode to Avery Tate’s front window. Now there were two men in her home. Two? He’d have to wait another day to grab her.

  He raked a hand through his hair, the gel sticking to his fingers. This was taking too long. He had art to create. Longings to fulfill. If this went on much longer, he’d use the gun he bought and just take her—no matter who got in his way.