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Authors: J.L. Saint

Collateral Damage (24 page)

BOOK: Collateral Damage
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Well double damn. She made sense. She also pointed out a fatal flaw in their situation that he needed to amend immediately. He started the engine.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the Walmart we passed to buy disposable phones. If you’re going to be my back up then we have to do it right.”

“That’s it?” she asked, eyes wide with surprise. “You’re the expert here. I’m completely out of my element and you’re going with my suggestion without any ‘you don’t know jack’ comments?”

“I’m Jack and you know me.” He grinned. “But seriously. Your plan has merit, and it’s not like you’re asking to play Rambo. Waiting at a closer place with transportation makes sense. My hardly-ever-wrong self can take advice sometimes.” He grinned again and she rolled her eyes. “Why so stunned?”

She shrugged and then averted her gaze, but not before he saw the shadows in her baby blues. “Not used to…never mind. It’s not important.”

Jack knew men who counted everything around them as being worthless. Collins obviously hadn’t valued her. Jack reached for her hand and squeezed. “Collins was a fool.”

“Yeah.”

“Then it would be a dumb idea to let his opinion of anything matter to you anymore, if it ever should have to begin with.”

She laughed and squeezed back. “You’re right. By the way, you don’t suck at relating.”

The grim disgust Jack had for Collins’s character was replaced by his own self hatred. He shook his head, wondering what she would say when she found out Collins’s blood was on his hands. He went to pull his hand away but she held on. “Just because I am capable of basic respect for another individual doesn’t mean—”

“Yeah, it does.” She looked him dead in the eye and gave him no room to argue.

It was all he could do to back out of the parking spot and drive. The urge to pull her into his arms and to kiss the shadows from her eyes was overwhelming. As it was, he couldn’t stop himself from leaving his hand in hers. Somehow, he needed the contact as much as he sensed she did at the moment.

Jack wasn’t sure what happened but something between them had changed, shifted, moved in such a way that part of himself molded to her. And that change made his need to kiss her and bury himself inside of her just that much stronger.

He’d started out this mission in a bad position. That had now worsened and he had no idea what in the hell he was going to do about it. For now, he had to focus on keeping everyone alive and figuring out what sort of hell Bill Collins had brought down on his family. After that the hard part would come. Then he’d have to deal with the collateral damage telling her the truth would bring.

Part of Lauren felt like a total idiot. Her emotions were stretched taut and on a razor’s edge, making her a bit more sensitive than she should be, a vulnerability that kept revealing to Jack things about herself that she hated. Low confidence being one. Her relationship with Bill being another. It was one thing to screw up choosing a partner in life and having your best friend know demeaning details. It was another thing to have a guy figure them out.

Her lack of judgment in character was a major flaw in herself. She’d like to think that Bill had been the consummate actor who didn’t reveal himself until the twins were born. She didn’t want to think she’d been so desperate to be loved that she’d blinded herself to his real character. However things had started, she eventually found out that relationships and life could get complicated really fast and leave a person with no good choices to make, only bad ones or worse ones. With Matt and Mitch on board, her sons’ wellbeing had taken precedence over her personal happiness until Bill’s behavior began to affect them adversely. At that point she’d filed for divorce.

She and Jack didn’t waste time. Within twenty minutes they had the cell phones up and running and had downed a couple of Power Bars and a drink, which did ease the burning in her stomach a little if not her worry. Their third and fourth attempt at reaching Conrad Gardner had failed and Lauren dropped Jack off a block from Gardner’s address. He would call her as soon as he reached Gardner’s house and report on his findings. She drove the half mile to the recreation center of Lake Hartwell State Park.

The summer day only had a hint of breeze to it, but the heat didn’t stop avid boaters from enjoying the sparkling blue-green lake nested along the Appalachian foothills. Soon fall would paint the lush vegetation a multitude of colors, leaving patches of gold and orange amid the evergreen pines. For now, everything was thick and green and steamy.

A soon as she entered the park, she knew something was up. Everyone at the beach-marina complex was lined up on the shore staring out at the lake rather than going about their recreational activities. Police were there, several DNR trucks, an ambulance and the fire department too. She was afraid that what was happening here was tied to everything else.

The smell of smoke hit Lauren the moment she opened her car.

Jack’s instructions had been to wait in the car at the populated marina with the engine running, the doors locked and her windows up. On the off chance that anyone approached the car, Jack had told her to drive away and to call him. Now she hesitated on what to do next. It seemed really dumb that she couldn’t walk twenty yards in a public place with a number of people around to find out what had everyone’s attention. But then, she’d promised Jack that she’d do as he directed and she’d already compromised her word.

Bottom lip caught between her teeth, she got back into the car, locked the doors and turned on the engine. After scanning the area carefully, she called Jack.

“What?” he answered in a low whisper that tingled in her ear and had her mentally smacking herself. Was there no part of her he didn’t stroke?

“Something’s going on,” she told him. “Police and rescue are at the marina, and everyone is lined along the shore, looking out at the lake. I’m going to find out what.”

Jack exhaled. “Fine. Keep me on the phone. I have Gardner’s house trailer in sight, but have yet to move in. For a security guru he doesn’t live high on the hog and he’s got zilch protecting his own home.”

Lauren frowned. “That’s odd. I always thought he lived in a big estate house like the others. Maybe this address is a family member’s. His grandfather owned a lot of property off the lake.”

“Maybe. So far everything on the perimeter check appears normal, but my gut is screaming.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m not liking the situation at all and even less now that you’ve called. Find out what’s up.”

“Okay. Hold on.” Lauren had parked as close as she could to the crowd and was quickly able to reach the lakeshore. What had everybody enthralled was immediately obvious. The smoldering hull of a boat rocked on the water not too far from the shore. It looked as if it was being kept afloat by ropes tethered to the surrounding rescue boats.

“What happened?” she asked the group of boys next to her. They all carried skateboards and sported low-slung shorts, Billabong tees and spiky hair cuts.

“It was like a movie, man. The dude’s boat blew up.”

“Yeah. Smack was in the middle of a tight trick on the steps over there when whammo.”

“We all hit the deck. Pieces of the boat flew way up into the air.”

“It was rad. Shame too. They’re looking for the man’s body. Heard somebody say the dude was a football legend or something like that.”

“Thanks.” Lauren reeled as the blood drained from her head. It had to be Conrad. He’d probably gone to his boat, thinking he’d be safe on it. She turned away and put the phone to her ear. “Jack, we’re too late—”

“I heard. Get in the car and head this way. Once you’re rolling I’ll hang up and check the house. Do not come up his drive until I call and give you the okay.”

Conrad glared at his watch. Sweat trickled down his back and his chin. Still wet from the lake, he’d stuffed himself up in the storage area above the rafters of his carport and it was hot in the airless space. It gave him a clear view of the front door of his trailer and set him up for the perfect shot, though, so he wasn’t about to abandon it. Once Lauren and her muscle showed, he’d nail the guy with his rifle and get her, then maybe torch his place to say good-bye to all of the shit that had tried to bury him all of his life.

Lauren had better hurry, though. He only had so much time before the authorities would likely appear, looking for someone to tell about his untimely demise. He was thinking he’d have to be gone by then, but maybe not. Maybe he could tie her to his bed and be enjoying her while the cops knocked on his door.

The thought had his heart racing with excitement. Doing her like that right under their noses with her dead muscle stuffed under the porch they were standing on. He practically laughed out loud. Who’d have known how much fun being his inner self could be? He glanced at his watch again.

Damn. It had been a good thirty to forty minutes since Lauren had tried to call him. Surely, she’d come looking for him, all worried about Bill’s bud and—

Tires crunched gravel. Someone was coming up his driveway. He could see Lauren in the driver’s seat as she turned the car around and faced back down the drive. She was alone. He couldn’t believe it. This was going to be a piece of cake with ass as a reward. He set down his rifle, about drop from his hiding place when a man exited from
his
house
!

What the hell?

Conrad squinted and stared hard, reaching for his rifle. How had the SOB gotten inside without Conrad having a clue? It was Lauren’s muscle. The man reached the steps and motioned her inside, clearly expecting her arrival. Had she sent the guy to kill him? Was she scheming to have the five million all to herself?

They went back inside his house before he could get the rifle in place.

After sitting stunned for a moment, he settled back into place, ready to nail the guy when he walked out the door.

Lauren didn’t know why but her skin crawled as she navigated Conrad Gardner’s drive. So much so that she swung the car around and pointed it back down the drive. Somehow the shadows lurking beyond the surrounding net of trees made her feel almost trapped. It didn’t make sense. She’d grown up rural and was more accustomed to isolated areas than most people who lived in the city. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the few times she’d interacted with Conrad, she’d always gotten the impression he was much more affluent than the scrubby drive and run down trailer indicated.

Not that she was a snob. She’d grown up on the side of the have-nots. She supposed it had more to do with finding out one more thing that she believed was in fact false. The ill thoughts made her feel even worse. Good God, the man could be lying in a watery grave right that second and she was questioning his social status. Maybe she had become a snob.

Jack met her on the porch. Once glance at his strained expression and his constant scanning of their surroundings told her he was ill at ease too.

“I’ve tried to call Bob and Ray again and got no answer. Do you think they’re dead too? I can’t take any more of this.” Half of her wanted to say to hell with finding out what Conrad might know about Bill. She and Jack just needed to get the hell out of there and do what? Sit in a hotel room until someone hunted her and her sons down? That didn’t sit well with her. And until they had feedback from the information Jack had given his commander, she really didn’t see another option.

“I don’t know, Lauren. If you had said to me yesterday that I’d still be this much in the dark about Bill’s activities, I never would have believed you. I’m sorry, but here may be our only chance to search for clues.”

“I know. Just ignore me.”

“No, you’re right. Brace yourself,” he told her before he opened Conrad’s front door. Her jaw snapped open and she was sure she would have swooned from the stench alone had Jack not had a grip on her arm.

“Oh my God.”

“Can’t see where God could possibly have a hand in this death trap,” Jack said. “I had hoped that you knew Gardner well enough to be able to see a clue in this mess.”

Lauren shook her head. “This is just beyond comprehension. The man has to have been seriously ill.”

“A hoarder. I’ve heard of them before, but had never really seen it manifested. It gets worse the farther back you go. Since we’re looking for a letter, I suggest we start with the kitchen area. From the empty envelopes in there, Gardner must have opened his mail during mealtime.”

Jack led Lauren through the sorry rooms to the kitchen and dining area. Even before she arrived, he wondered if they were just wasting their time. Finding anything here would be a miracle. He’d seen hovels all over the world and nothing seemed to match Gardner’s place in terms of years of junk just laying everywhere. Even the ground surrounding the back porch of the trailer was knee deep in the plastic containers, the kind the microwavable dinners came in. Mixed with those had been buckets of dirty engine oil, overflowing with water and scum. Recreational paraphernalia was spilled from an attached storage shed where expensive water skis, scuba tanks, gear and a top brand set of forged golfing irons lay scattered about, and all of it beaded with water—a waste of quality equipment that didn’t match the rundown, low-income hovel. There’d been a puddle of water on the back porch he’d had to step over so as not to leave any prints. And after seeing the inside, he wondered if it really was water or if Gardner had tossed some other liquid out the back door before leaving the house. He’d seen no evidence of rain on the terrain he’d covered coming to Gardner’s.

The front porch had been a surprise as well as the carport. No clutter there.

He wished that were true for the kitchen and dining area. Mail and things from tool sets to bar soap were piled amid dirty dishes on every surface without any apparent order to the overwhelming volume of junk. Another year or two and Jack doubted there would be a navigable path through the place. The place was a health and fire hazard.

Lauren was a trooper. She didn’t murmur a word of complaint as she searched. After a bit, he looked up at her. “I hate to say this. But if Conrad Gardner was blown up on his boat today, he is better off dead than living like this. Hell, it doesn’t even look as if he has thrown anything out in a long time.”

BOOK: Collateral Damage
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