Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  Stone waved a hand. “You look fine.”

  “I don’t feel fine.”

  His smile disappeared. “What hurts?” He pulled up the chair from the end of the bed and sat.

  That one act of caring did more to bolster her spirits than any smile could. “Nothing more than what was injured in the explosion.” She rubbed her chest. “I have a little trouble breathing, but the doctor said that’s to be expected.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t hear you yell sooner. I was conked out.” The drawn lines around his mouth told her he was telling the truth.

  “It would have helped if you hadn’t chained me to the bed.”

  He squared his shoulders. “I had no choice, and you know why.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Are you done tying me up?” She rubbed her bruised wrists.

  He cocked a brow. “If you give me your Girl Scout promise you won’t try to escape, I’ll consider your request.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I promise.” A wave of pain raced up from her chest. “When can I get out of here?”

  “The doctor wants to keep you overnight for observation.”

  Her body tensed. “Because?”

  “Smoke is insidious. It can cause harm even when you can’t see its effects.”

  A knock sounded on the door. Susan’s pulse jumped ten beats and her hands clutched the spread. The young man standing at the door might have on a cop uniform, but anyone could wear a costume. He waved to Stone and moved back out of sight.

  She jerked her gaze back at Stone. “Who’s he?”

  He leaned over and clasped her hand. His tender touch ignited a warmth in her belly she had a hard time identifying. He released his grasp, and emptiness claimed her.

  Stone leaned back in his chair. “I told the doctor you were under FBI protection, and he offered a hospital security guard to stand watch.”

  “That was nice of you to ask.” The added personnel would allow her to sleep better.

  “I was hoping you’d see it that way.” He pushed back on the chair and stood. “Now that the guard has arrived, I’m going down to the hospital cafeteria. I won’t be long.”

  “Do you have to leave?” She hadn’t meant for her plea to slip out.

  “I can stay a few minutes. You want to talk about what happened?”

  “The house caught on fire, that’s what happened.” If she got into a discussion about who-dun-it, Peter’s name might surface, and she wasn’t sure anymore that he was guilty.

  As an attorney, she never budged from her convictions and always fought for what she wanted. But what if she were wrong this time? Were principles more important than her life? Her dad claimed they were, but look where that got him—dead.

  “We’ll discuss it another time.”

  “Sure.” Her stomach grumbled. “I’m starving, and these people won’t give me anything until the doctor gives some nebulous all-clear order. Can you sneak in something good to eat for me? I’d kill for a juicy hamburger.”

  * * * *

  Stone had just stepped outside the hospital to find the world’s best hamburger when his cell vibrated. “Christ.” He didn’t need any more bad news. It was his boss. “Watson.” He crossed the street to his parked car.

  “It’s Thomason. How is Susan doing? Loving the warm weather, I suspect.” Part of his job was to check up on those in hiding.

  “You didn’t hear? Someone set the town house on fire. I barely got her out on time.” A car’s brakes squealed, forcing him to jump to the sidewalk. He better get his head back in the game or Susan would be left without a bodyguard.

  “Holy shit. Is she okay? Are you?” Richard’s voice rose.

  “We’re at the hospital now. No burns, just smoke inhalation. I’m good, but I’m worried about Susan, or rather Taylor, given her previous injuries.”

  “She has been through so much. Do we have any idea who did this?” Stone could imagine Richard pacing, tugging on his perfectly knotted tie, rearranging the items on his desk.

  “Fire Marshal is working it.”

  “Christ. We don’t need this. I’ll get right on finding you a new place. Obviously, he’s found you.”

  Stone reached his car and got in. He waited to start the engine until their conversation ended. “At least we know it’s not Peter Caravello. I heard he was in jail.”

  Thomason didn’t answer for a moment. “Who told you?”

  Shit. He wasn’t supposed to let on he knew. “Don’t remember.”

  He turned the key in order to lower the windows. He needed air, pissed he’d nearly mentioned the information Tom told him. Tom was not usually privy to the FBI information, yet somehow the guy knew everything.

  “Caravello could have pulled the strings from the inside,” Richard said.

  Richard used Susan’s logic. Relieved he didn’t press where his knowledge came from, Stone relaxed in the seat. “Perhaps.” He didn’t want to be discussing his theory about Peter’s lack of guilt with the Head of Security. “I’ll take you up on your offer to move as our town house is basically gone.” He chuckled, though only for effect. Stepping into another “safe” house was one step from stupid.

  “Good, but I’m afraid I had another reason for calling.” The deadly low tone meant the news wasn’t good.

  “What?” He gripped the wheel tight and sat up straight, scanning the parking lot to check if anyone had followed them to the hospital. It didn’t take a high IQ to guess they’d come here.

  “Juror number six was killed.”

  He slapped a hand on the steering wheel. “When?”

  “Sometime before midnight.”

  “How?” Sweat beaded his chest.

  Papers rustled in the background and phones rang. Richard must be moving across the office. “Gunshot to the head.”

  Damn. A different MO could mean a team of assassins was at work. “Who was it? I know Taylor will want to know.” Given she spent close to a year on the case, she’d gotten to know the jurors, even if recalling them took her a minute.

  “Travis Simmons.”

  His hand shook at the ramification. “Thanks.” He’d been about to hang up, when Richard called his name. “Yeah?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this. I put two people in a safe house and now both are dead. I don’t know what to do.” The man sounded sincerely distraught.

  Stone wanted to say, find the mole, but wasn’t sure he’d be wise to voice his opinion over the phone. “You’ll find a way to stop this guy.”

  “I hope. I’ll call you when I have an exact address for the new place to stay.”

  * * * *

  Richard Thomason had just hung up with Stone when his cell rang. Thinking it might be Watson again, he answered without checking the caller ID. “Yes?”

  “Where’s the girl?”

  His insides shot to liquid. He recognized the blackmailer’s distorted voice. He never should have given the bastard his cell phone number, but he’d figured his personal cell couldn’t be traced. “I don’t know.”

  “You’re the head of the goddamn relocation program. If you don’t know, who does?”

  Richard stepped past his secretary into his office, closed his door and lowered the shades. He could smell his own sweat. Despite the room’s good insulation, he lowered his voice. “They were in Florida, but someone burned down their town house.”

  “I know. I ordered the place to be torched. When my men came to check on her charred body, she wasn’t there. Where did she go?”

  Sweat pooled under his arms, and he loosened his tie. “I called Watson a few hours ago, but he didn’t answer.” Could the guy hear the way his voice wobbled?

  “That the FBI guy with her?”

  “Yes.” Shit. He shouldn’t have mentioned Stone’s name. He liked the guy, but not so much as to jeopardize his own wife’s well-being.

  Loud music blasted the background. The man must have covered the mouthpiece and yelled something in some foreign language. The annoying music stop
ped.

  “Sorry about that. This attorney woman, she’s a slippery one.”

  “What do you want from me? I told you where to find all the other jurors. As promised.” His guilty conscience ate away at him. If he held on, his family would be safe.

  “I want you to find the bitch and tell me where she is.”

  “I’ve done enough for you.”

  The man laughed. “Then I guess you won’t mind when your two pretty little girls and wife disappear for good.”

  His chin trembled as rage filled his gut. “If you lay a hand on my family—”

  “You’ll what? Come after me yourself? Ha. I know you can’t bring your FBI buddies with you because that would mean you’d have to tell them you were the one who got six of the jurors killed. And I’m not finished. Find the woman.” He hung up.

  Richard reached for his chair and slid down onto his seat. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He’d put his wife and children in jeopardy. He’d borrowed so much money to give Kathleen a second chance at life, and now he might lose the one woman he loved. How could he have known the man who loaned him money was connected to this loan shark?

  * * * *

  The smell of heat and grease from the fast food place didn’t help calm Stone’s stomach, but at this early hour, his options for a hamburger were limited. He placed his order, then checked back with the hospital to make sure Susan was okay. He didn’t trust anyone any more. Not the hospital, not the FBI. Hell, he barely trusted himself to keep her safe.

  Once they assured him no one had entered her room, he stepped away from the counter and dialed T-Squared. His gut churned knowing he’d have to break the news to Susan about Travis Simmons’ death. She’d be devastated on more than one level.

  “Joe’s Bar and Grill.” His friend used the code they’d established.

  “Thank God I got a hold of you.”

  “I wouldn’t have answered if hadn’t been you. You do realize this is when I sleep?”

  Stone stepped closer to the restaurant door, not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation. “Sorry.”

  “No problem. What’s up?”

  Stone told him about the fire.

  “She okay?”

  “She will be. Listen, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  The door opened and three kids rushed passed him, skateboards tucked under their arms. “I need the names of the remaining jurors on the east coast.”

  T-Squared whistled. “You know that’s illegal.”

  “So is killing people. Think about it. Even after we put those people into our secure houses, someone was able to get to too many of them. You tell me how.”

  Other than the sound of some construction noise in the background, silence filled the air.

  “You suspect a mole in the Bureau?” Tom said a moment later.

  A thin girl behind the counter placed an order next to the cash register. “Number twenty-three?”

  He held up a finger, then pulled out cash to pay for his meal. “Yes.”

  “You got a name of who you think might be leaking the information?”

  He maneuvered around two tables and stood at the register. “If I did, I’d be back in DC in a heartbeat ready to kill the guy.” The cashier’s eyes widened. He gave her his best smile, and her stance softened. “Look, I need to warn the remaining jurors their location might be compromised.”

  “That’s Thomason’s job.”

  He turned to the side in an attempt to keep the conversation more private. “That might be, but I need to do this on my own. No telling who he’s blabbed to, intentionally or otherwise.”

  “You think Richard is—”

  “I don’t know who to point the finger at.”

  Stone handed the cashier a twenty and she gave him back his change. After filling up the drink cups, he headed outside.

  “You think it’s wise to drag Susan around with you on this quest?”

  “I debated asking the Tampa office to supply her with another bodyguard, but how can I be sure they can protect her? She’ll be safer with me than in another safe house.”

  “You like her!”

  Best friend or not, he wasn’t ready to discuss his feelings. “It’s my job, and I’m good at it, now can you get me those addresses?”

  Tom groaned. “I’ll have to hack into the system to get the information. It’s not like they post the addresses on the bulletin board.”

  A wave of relief hit him. “I owe you one.”

  “I’d say you owe me about a hundred.”

  Stone laughed. “And the three times I saved your life doesn’t count for anything?”

  T-Squared cleared his throat. “You know it does. Back at you in a few.”

  Stone looked around the parking lot, jumped in the car and started the engine. The rich aroma of burgers and fries filled the car. As he drove out the entrance, two men in a white sedan glanced his way before looking away.

  He and Susan had to get out of Dodge. Now.

  Chapter Six

  Susan shifted in the car seat. She couldn’t wait to shower and get into the new clothes they’d purchased at the mall. Stone adjusted the side-view mirror, moved the air slider right, then left, and wiped the dash with his palm.

  She held out her hand. “Stop it. Please.”

  “What?”

  “Your obsessive behavior is driving me crazy.” She twisted around to face him. “What’s wrong?”

  His mouth screwed to one side. “Richard Thomason called last night.” He clutched the wheel so hard the beds of his nails turned white.

  “Don’t tell me he knew about the fire?” Her pulse rose.

  “No. He called because Travis Simmons, another juror, was shot in the head. He’s dead.”

  She leaned her head back to let the horrific turn of events settle in her brain. “Dear God. That makes what, six dead?” Her too-long nails ground into her palms, nearly cutting her.

  “Yes.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut to visualize Travis’ face. Only the memory of his stats surfaced. “He was a prominent doctor. That’s so unfair.” She sat up straighter. “Wait a minute. He called you last night? Why didn’t you tell me right away?” Susan couldn’t get a handle on his agenda. So much for being a team and not having any secrets. And here she’d mentally placed a white hat on his head.

  “I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Telling me now upsets me just as much.” Her lips firmed. “I need to be in the loop and you know it.” If he hadn’t been driving, she would have twisted him around to face her so she could get a read on his expression.

  “Fine. Next time when you’re struggling to survive, I’ll be sure to dump more bad news on you.” His lips pressed together.

  His consideration dumped a bucket of water on her fire, and suddenly the boring, scraggly pine trees whizzing by became interesting. “Maybe I came across a little harsh. I’m sorry, but not telling me the killer was one step closer wasn’t right.”

  He glanced at her. “You’re smart. I thought you’d figure something was up when I didn’t argue much about you leaving the hospital before the doctor was ready to release you.”

  That’s why he’d given in so easily. She developed a cough over night and the doctor thought another day of observation was in order. No way was she going to be a sitting duck for a killer. Two more jurors under protection had been killed. This madman would stop only when all of them were dead. He’d kill her, and maybe even the judge.

  Sweat slicked her skin from the late afternoon sun pouring through the car window. Or at least she wanted to believe it was the sun’s fault and not fear choking her. She couldn’t breathe for a moment and pressed the button to lower the window half way. The cool breeze poured in, and she inhaled deeply. The tinge of exhaust mixed with fresh green trees perked her up. She wouldn’t allow the bastard to cripple her with anxiety.

  “I can turn on the AC if you’d like.” His tone came out so sweet she wondered
if he was feeling guilty for withholding information.

  Okay, so he had a good reason for not telling her right away. She let herself be pissed, which was a whole lot better than being scared. “I’m fine.” She faced forward, not wanting to think about poor Travis and his family. “Did you believe the fire marshal when he said the town house blaze was a result of an overloaded circuit?”

  “No reason for him to lie.” He tapped the steering wheel. “What I don’t buy is the fact an electrician failed to install all of the fuses properly, especially in an upscale community like the one we stayed in.”

  Susan kept one eye on the side-view mirror, convinced someone was following them. A gray sedan had appeared and disappeared more than once, but Stone said her imagination was playing tricks on her.

  She replayed what the fire marshal had told them. “Could a lack of fuses actually cause a fire?” Her ex-husband had been the handyman in the family. She didn’t know squat about how circuits worked.

  “No, but a fire will erupt if some worker plugs in a space heater in a socket that isn’t rated for that appliance. It got cold last night. Turns out the heater the carpenter brought in clicked on. Without a fuse to stop the overload, the place caught on fire.”

  She took a sip of water from the thermos Stone has purchased for her. He’d harped often enough about keeping hydrated.

  “Could overloading the circuit have been done on purpose?” Like a bullet-to-the-head kind of purpose.

  He glanced up at the rearview mirror. His jaw tensed. She didn’t like it. Maybe the gray sedan was following them.

  “That would by my guess. It’s why I want to head north. But first, I need to shower at a motel.” He sniffed the air and scrunched up his nose. “I stink.”

  The way he skewed up his face made her smile. “Like I don’t?”

  “I can’t lie. It won’t hurt us to stay in Florida a little while longer, if only to get clean.”