A Forever Masterpiece (The Masterpiece Trilogy Book 3) (5 page)

Becca stiffened.

"Ma'am, you did what you needed to do. You protected yourself and your friend. That much is obvious. We just need to make sure all ends are sorted before we can put out a full report. Take it easy, okay?" The cop's sympathetic tone helped.

"See? Told you." Hunter squeezed her shoulders. "Let's go check on Joe and get some rest."

Becca nodded.

Joe already approached them. "You saved my life tonight, Becca," he said quietly. "I don't know how I can thank you."

"I don't want thanks for taking someone's life!"
Hunter barely caught what she signed, but he figured it out. Joe on the other hand, looked utterly confused.

"I think I'm going to take her up to the room for the night," Hunter said softly. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" He really wanted to ask Joe what he knew. Torn, he glanced back at Becca and thought he should get her calm first.

"I'll follow y'all if you don't mind." Joe glanced around nervously. "I'm done for the night ... morning, too."

The trip back up the elevator and to the rooms was a tense one. Hunter kept a good hold on Becca as she kept stumbling around, probably from being so tired and partly from shock. Joe seemed like he wanted to talk, but held back.

Once the elevator doors opened, Joe exited first. As Hunter and Becca stood in front of their door, he turned around again. Joe's eyes were full of pain and confusion, especially as he stared at Becca. Then he pulled out his key card, slid it through the lock and walked inside his room.

Hunter turned on the small lamp in their room and pulled Becca in his arms. He cradled her close as she clung to him. He'd wait for her to decide to start the conversation. For now, the best thing to do was keep her in his arms until she felt ready to talk.

Becca pulled from his hug and flopped on the bed. She made a fist with her hand and stared at it. Hunter brightened the light and sat beside her. What was she doing? Thinking? Feeling?

Then she glanced up at him with tears running down her cheeks.
"It happened so fast. I can't believe he's dead. I know the man wanted to hurt us, but I didn't know it was going to turn out this way!"
Her eyes were full of terror and confusion.

Hunter raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Bec, that man came at you with a gun. Your body was full of adrenaline. He could have killed you or Joe, and it sounds like that might have been his intent. Why else would he attack you late at night when no one else was around? I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now, but you can't dwell on it, angel. At least, you can't keep beating yourself up for something you didn't intend to do."

She'd crushed the man's windpipe, making him unable to breathe, but it was the bullet that killed him.

"I lost my voice again. What happens with work? Why is all this happening again?"
Becca jumped up and paced the room again. There was a feeling of déjà vu. They'd been doing this just hours ago. He'd been right. Becca couldn't sleep, so she went to get a drink and snack, ran into Joe, and they got to talking. A random night, no set plans to be there, so how the hell did the guy know where to find Joe? Had they been watched this entire trip?

Hunter moved to hold her. He cupped Becca's cheeks in his hands and rubbed his thumbs gently across them. "Hey. Your voice will come back. You'll be fine at work. You won't lose your job over this. We'll get you through. If you need to talk to someone professionally about what just happened, we'll see what we can do about getting you an appointment with Dr. Ryan, or if not him, he might have a good idea who to talk to. We'll get past it." She actually allowed him to pull her close again.

Could this be a Sylvia plot? He racked his mind over and over again, wondering about all the possibilities. Or maybe Vince? Just because Vince gave them information didn't mean Hunter trusted him. Becca and Hunter knew too much now, considering he told Becca what he had to do to Sylvia all those years ago. If Vince wanted them quiet, why would he wait so long? Or this could be the work of Vince's father? Did that jackass tell his father that they were in contact with Joe now? Maybe he sent someone to take Joe out. It didn't explain the comment to Becca, though.

He managed to get Becca calm, and she fell asleep curled up at his side. Hunter couldn't get back to sleep. His mind raced with the endless possibilities of what tonight meant. Who was that man? How did they know where to find them? What did he want with Joe, and how did he know about Becca?

Hunter was about to turn off the light and try to rest when a soft rap sounded at the door. He slid out of bed, peeking back at Becca, then peered out the peephole. Joe stood on the other side. Hunter opened the door. "How are you?" he asked quietly.

"I can't sleep. I keep thinking about that man. Becca saved my life, Hunter," Joe rambled, stringing sentences together that bounced around from one feeling to the other. "I know she doesn't want me to bring it up ... If Becca hadn't shown up, I don't think I'd be standing here talking to you right now." His face was pale. Joe leaned heavily on his cane.

"I know. She's a wreck, but still hanging in there. I'm trying to piece together the connection. Why would he go after you, but whisper those words to Becca when she tried to get him away from you?"

"Wish I knew. He did good at hiding himself. Maybe once we get his name, there'll be some answers."

"I keep thinking Sylvia, Vince or his family, or Becca's grandparents. Which one of them has the most to lose?"

But why go after Joe? Hunter's suspicion about his old friend deepened, and he hated feeling this way.

Becca hardly slept last night. Every time she closed her eyes, an image of that man filled her head. Then images of a family in tears, trying to understand what happened to their father and husband.

Voices outside her room alerted her. Becca sat up in the bed. Hunter wasn't beside her. She blinked, trying to clear the fogginess inhabiting her head.

"I didn't think you had anything new, but figured I'd try anyway. Yeah, we're going to be delayed getting home. Becca- she's ... well how would you feel in her shoes? I figure if we're here a few days more, we'll hit a library and check the newspaper records. I think we need to find Sylvia and get her out of hiding. There are so many things to look up. Okay, thanks Jed." The door opened. Hunter stepped inside and rushed to her side. "The police have more questions," he stated softly, pulling her in his arms. "Are you up for it?"

Did she have much of a choice? Becca opened her mouth, hoping she'd have a voice. Nothing. Resigned to her fate, she stepped away from Hunter.
"Whatever I have to do, I'll do."

Hunter licked his lower lip. He'd been doing that lately every time he wasn't sure what to say. "Okay, then we'll get it over with as soon as possible. Hey, I called everyone back home to let them know what's going on. Do you want me to call Rissi? Your grandparents? Anyone back in Vermont?"

"Call Rissi. I don't want to text this to her. As for my grandparents, no. Leave them out of this. They aren't going to care, anyway."
Becca couldn't even think about them and what they'd say. If they heard about it somehow, whatever. She wasn't going out of her way to let them know anything. They'd made themselves clear when she left the house after her last trip there. Other than an occasional message here and there, they hardly ever conversed.

"Okay, I'll call her. I just got off the phone with Jed. He's looking into the guy-" He stopped.

The guy that she'd killed. Yeah, this time, Becca understood why Hunter didn't finish his thoughts. She simply nodded.
"Maybe we'll find the connection soon. I'm going to shower real quick, and then I'll be ready."

Hunter kept her in place by gently cupping her face in his hands. "I love you. Never forget that, no matter what. Since we're here longer, why don't we see if we can find anything out about what happened around the time you were brought to my parents?"

The events were so ancient. Okay, not ancient, but twenty eight years ago? With little leads, Becca didn't see how they'd come up with anything if Jed couldn't. It couldn't hurt, since they were here, but hope was fading fast. She signed a positive response to Hunter before closing herself off in the bathroom.

Three hours later, they left the hotel after another long round of agonizing questions. She avoided looking at Joe. Becca knew he meant well, but every time he tried to thank her for last night, she couldn't take it. Everything had happened so fast, she'd reacted naturally, but didn't want to think back on what she'd done and the aftermath of it.

They headed to a nearby library. The best they could do was search the news stories from the time frame they were given of when Becca had been brought to the Beckmans.

Hunter led the way in the library, all three of them silent as they were lost in thought. At least, Becca figured they were. She was, for sure.

In the back corner of the building, they found the computers with the archived newspapers available. Hunter pulled out a chair for Becca, kissed her cheek, then took the spot beside her. Joe moved to sit on the other side of Hunter.

"I guess let's start a week or two before the day you said Becca's brother approached Dad," Hunter suggested. "That was in July of 1986, right?"

Becca's birthday, at least according to the fabricated certificate, was in August. When was her real one? How old had she been when she became Rebecca Lange? Couldn't have been that old if she'd been passed off as a newborn, right? What would cause a family to send a little boy to strangers with a tiny baby? What was so bad?

"Yes," Joe answered. He already had his eyes glued to the screen as he scrolled through something.

Becca stared blankly at the screen before her, not even sure where to begin or what to look for.

"Definitely not finding anything on a missing baby. There's an ongoing story about home invasions and killings, but nothing about a missing baby," Hunter muttered. Becca wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or not. Either way, a chill ran through her, thinking of the things that were going on around the summer she was born.

"I remember that. 1986 was a rough year for this town," Joe replied. "There were a lot of incidents surrounding the story about a ring of corrupted cops. Things got ugly for a while. Glad I wasn't working in that department. I would not have wanted to represent dirty cops."

Becca barely paid attention to their chatter. She couldn't concentrate. Scrolling through these newspapers didn't find a thing.

This whole search might prove to be hopeless, and she'd just have to live with never knowing.

Three agonizing days later, the police gave them the okay to go home. To Becca's surprise, her voice came back this morning. Good. She'd feared losing it much longer. One thing she'd never understand is why and how it came and went like it did.

They'd cleared her yesterday. There was no suspicion over her about the death of the man, but did it ever weigh heavily on her heart. What about the man's family? Did he have young kids? Who would tell them that their father wasn't coming home? But as Hunter said, the man had the intent to hurt or kill that night. Still, Becca couldn't help but wonder about his family. Even if she tried not to care how she felt about the attacker, someone out there loved him. Parents, siblings, cousins, best friends. A girlfriend or wife. Regret dug a hole in her heart. She fought down another wave of nausea. Hunter wrapped his arm around her as he led them far away from the hotel.

Time to go home, and she couldn't wait to get there. They still weren't sure who the man was working for, but they had a name. Nathan Canter. Forty years old. Lived in Maryland. The one that got her the most was no criminal record in his history. So what possessed the man to come by late one night with a gun? What did he want with Joe? How did he know about her, too? Did Sylvia play some sob story to an unsuspecting man and draw him into her web of lies and hatred?

They parted ways with Joe at the airport. Becca stood back as Hunter said his goodbyes. He hugged Joe before they both came back to her.

"Take care, Becca," Joe whispered before he hugged her too. "I'll see you both at Thanksgiving."

Becca hugged him back. "Safe travels home." What else could she say? Hopefully Joe wouldn't try to thank her again. Saving his life was the only option, but what she had to do ... Well, she just didn't want to be thanked for it. Not like that. No way. Maybe Hunter had a talk with him, because Joe never brought it up again. He tipped his hat, grabbed his rolling bag, and headed toward the terminal.

With Joe's departure, Becca and Hunter headed off to wait for their own plane home. Flying was actually becoming easier on her. She never imagined it to be that way, but the flights didn't deathly terrify her any more.

Hunter took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Ready to go home?"

"More than ever." She needed to get as far away from here as possible.

On the flight back, they barely said a word. Then, out of the blue, Hunter turned to her.

"I was thinking about hiring someone to watch out for things. A bodyguard maybe."

"What? For who?" He wouldn't be suggesting this for her, would he?

The look on his face gave him away. "You," he said slowly. "I'm going to be honest, Bec. I think the attacker was either working with Sylvia, Vince's father, or possibly your grandparents. It could be someone trying to stop us from getting to the truth. I might be off base, but if I am right, that opens up a whole new can of worms." Hunter leaned close. "And if it's Sylvia, well ... I'm not taking chances. Not with the way she feels about us already. I also told Joe he should probably seek protection. This obviously wasn't random. Not with what he said to you that night."

The alarm in his voice sent a wave of goosebumps up her arm. Her hand flew to her throat, messing with the dolphin pendant on the necklace from Hunter. "If I killed her accomplice or boyfriend, she'd really hate me," Becca whispered. Sylvia already blamed her for Rusty's disappearance, and everything else.