Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls) (25 page)

Actually, the arguments sounded reasonable to Ellie, but she didn’t say it. The Hamiltons were suffocating in guilt and blame. They didn’t want to believe they were partially responsible for their daughter’s death.
That
she could understand.

“You don’t think that’s possible?” Grant asked gently.

Mrs. Hamilton twisted her hands. “She always
seemed
happy before we moved.”

“She was happy,” her husband snapped. “We should have moved back, but you made her feel inadequate for wanting to give in to those bullies.”

Mrs. Hamilton recoiled as if he’d slapped her.

Her husband rose. “I’m sorry.” He bolted through the French doors, crossed the back porch, and descended the wooden steps to the ground. He strode into the meadow toward the woods. His anger left an electric-like charge in the room.

Mrs. Hamilton watched him go with a dead eye. Then she turned to Grant. “Your brother seemed particularly interested in copies of the threatening text messages Lindsay received, but I don’t know why. The messages came from a burner phone, and the police couldn’t prove who sent the calls. The phone never turned up. I’ve no doubt it was destroyed. Lindsay had received photos and video as well, but her phone was wiped out with a cell phone virus attached to one of the messages. Even the police experts weren’t able to recover them. I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a cell phone virus.” Mrs. Hamilton paused and picked at her fingernails. “We were supposed to meet with your brother again the Monday following his death.”

Grant’s torso tilted forward. “Do you have copies of the texts?” When Mrs. Hamilton nodded, he asked. “Would you mind letting me read them? I promise to bring them back.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter now. It’s not an open case. I’ll make you a copy.” Mrs. Hamilton rose and left the room. She returned in a few minutes with a sheaf of papers in her hand. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but thank you. Since your brother died, we haven’t been able to find another lawyer who will take the case.” She paused. “That’s not entirely true. We’ve actually had dozens of attorneys calling and knocking on the door, but none have been of the same caliber as Lee. We didn’t want to damage our case by hiring someone disreputable. We wanted to be taken seriously.”

“I won’t share these with anyone, and if I discover anything, I’ll let you know.” Grant stood. “Thank you for your time.”

Mrs. Hamilton showed them to the door, and they returned to the car.

“What do you think?” Ellie fastened her seat belt.

“They blame each other and themselves. He wanted to move back. She didn’t want to give up. So he feels guilty for not fighting for his daughter, and she feels guilty for her decisions.”

“It’s a toxic environment. I wonder how their marriage fared before Lindsay’s death.”

“Who knows?” Grant turned the car around. “Having your child commit suicide could break anyone, but then again, the fact that they couldn’t really come to an agreement over their daughter’s predicament tells me they likely had problems before it happened.”

Ellie’s purse buzzed. She fished her phone out of the side pocket. Her nerves quivered. “I don’t know that number.”

“Is it the same number he used to threaten you before?”

“No.” Ellie pressed the message bubble.

“He’s probably using a burner phone once and destroying it. That’s what I would do.”

She read the message aloud. “I didn’t tell you to talk to the Hamiltons.”

Grant’s gaze swept their surroundings. “I don’t see how anyone could know we were here.”

Ellie glanced behind them. “Unless he was watching the Hamilton’s house from the woods.”

“How would he know to do that?” At the end of the driveway, Grant stopped the car and got out.

“What?” Ellie followed him.

“How did he know where we were?” Grant circled the vehicle. “Do you have a flashlight in the glove box?”

“Yes.” Ellie got it for him.

She rubbed her biceps against the breeze as he circled her car, running his hands under the bumper and fenders. He dropped to the ground and shone the light across the vehicle’s undercarriage.

“Damn it.” He pulled off a two-inch black box that had been duct-taped to the undercarriage of her minivan.

“What is it?”

“Looks like a GPS tracker.”

“Oh my God.” Ellie’s jaw dropped. She put a hand over her mouth. “He can track my movements with that?”

“Yes.”

“Will he know you took it off the car?”

“No, as long as it’s still transmitting, he’ll just assume your van is where the unit is located.” Grant got to his feet. “I know I promised I wouldn’t tell McNamara, but I think we should call him.”

“He said he’d hurt my family if I did that.” Fear gathered in Ellie’s throat.

Grant held up the device. “But we’re no closer to delivering that file.”

Tears burned at the corners of Ellie’s eyes. What should she do? Grant was right. His thirty-six-hour promise had expired, but he was asking, not forcing her to change her mind. She couldn’t deliver what Hoodie Man wanted. But going against his instructions and involving the police felt dangerous.

“Look, I can’t stand sitting back and letting this all play out without taking action. How about we go back to Lee’s, we’ll read through these texts, and we’ll make a plan?”

Ellie’s phone buzzed again. “He sent another message.”

Get that file by tomorrow or your family is dead.

Chapter Thirty-One

Grant looked up from the page of text messages on the desk. “These are really nasty.”

“They are.” Sitting across from him, Ellie had her own stack of papers attached to a clipboard. “What kind of kid tells another to kill herself?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter how nasty the messages were if no one can prove who sent them.”

Ellie rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know what to do. He’s going to message me tomorrow. We don’t have the file.”

“We have two options. We could call the police. Or we could make our own file. He has no way of knowing it isn’t the real file.”

“I never thought of that.” Ellie shifted backward, her skeleton straightening as the small hope he’d just presented gave her strength.

“I’m still thinking, but I think I can do even better than that.” A couple of ideas were rolling around in his head. The thought of taking this campaign on the offense sent a bolt of energy through him. His desire to personally take care of Lee’s killer was the real reason he hadn’t insisted Ellie call the police. “Have you found any clues in those texts?”

“No.” Ellie set the clipboard on the desk, stood, and stretched. “I have to run home for some clothes, and Julia needs clothes for skating practice tonight.”

Grant went hard as his mind played a reel of their last visit to her house. They shouldn’t do that again. Ellie didn’t deserve to be hurt, but the solace he found with her was difficult to resist.

“I’m coming with you.” Grant stood and picked up the baby monitor on the desk. “I’ll let Hannah know.”

“I’ll tell Julia and Nan and see if there’s anything else either of them needs from our house.” Ellie left the office and headed upstairs, where Julia was finishing her homework before skating practice. Worn out from another night of little sleep and an outdoor play session with Grant and the dog, Carson was out cold.

Hannah was in the kitchen working on her laptop. Grant poked his head through the doorway. Piles of papers were spread out on the table in front of her. The baby was sleeping in the corner.

“Maybe the kids are actually vampires who don’t like daylight,” he said.

Hannah sighed. “That would explain a lot.”

“Work or estate stuff?” he asked.

She lifted her head. “Yes.”

“Where’s Mac?”

“He went upstairs. Said he’d get some sleep now and take the first baby-walking-night-watchman shift.”

“Good.” Grant nodded toward the baby. Her screaming fits had been spaced further apart the last two nights. He prayed the colic was easing. “Want to risk putting her in her crib upstairs?”

“Hell, no.” Hannah grimaced. “Haven’t you heard? Never wake a sleeping baby.”

“I’m running next door with Ellie for a few minutes. She needs some things.” He set the baby monitor on the corner of the desk. Since the baby wouldn’t sleep in her crib at night, Grant had put the baby monitor base in Carson’s room. The house was so big, he couldn’t hear the boy from downstairs. “Can you listen for Carson?”

Hannah nodded. “Sure.”

“Text me if either of them wakes up.”

“All right.” She bent her head over her papers again.

Stepping in front of Ellie, Grant scanned the outside through front and back windows before turning off the alarm and opening the front door. Locking the door behind him, he reset the security system with the fob on his keychain.

At Ellie’s house, Grant went in first, Beretta in hand. A quick trip through the house verified they were alone. He ended the tour in the upstairs hall.

“It’s clear.” He holstered his weapon.

Ellie went into her bedroom. Grant followed, leaning on the wall while she set a small tote bag on a chest at the foot of the bed. She left the room for a few minutes and came back with an armload of clothes.

His phone buzzed. He read the display, hoping it wasn’t Hannah. He really needed an hour off. At a swipe of his finger, a message from Mac displayed on the screen:
Medical examiner released the bodies.

His mind resisted the news.

“Is everything all right?” Her eyes searched his.

He put the phone down. “Yes.”

“OK. I’m just about done here.” Her brows furrowed. She didn’t believe him, but he didn’t have the energy to explain. Exhaustion weighted his body, and he eyed the bed. Late nights with nightmares and crying children were taking their toll. “Would you mind if I closed my eyes for a combat nap?”

Ellie looked up from her packing, a folded sweater in her hands. “Not at all. Do you want me to leave the room?”

Grant stretched out on the bed. “Actually, would you mind lying here with me?”

“Not at all.” She eased onto the bed next to him.

He rolled over, put an arm over her body, and buried his nose in her hair. She smelled like flowers. “Wake me in thirty minutes.”

With years of practice, he slipped into a combat nap in seconds.

“Grant?” Ellie’s whisper pulled him back. “It’s been an hour, but you can sleep more if you like.”

He opened his eyes. “You were supposed to wake me in thirty minutes.”

“You were out cold.” Her face was inches from his. Her hand rested on his shoulder. Contentedness washed over him. The moment felt almost painfully ordinary in the quiet bedroom. That was the most restful chunk of sleep he’d gotten since he came home. He could get used to seeing her when he woke.

He reached up and touched a lock of hair that fell over her shoulder. He twirled it around his finger. Every moment since he’d received the call about Lee had been filled with worry, grief, and fear. He didn’t want to let this peaceful moment end. Just for a few minutes, he could pretend that waking to a beautiful woman was his normal. What would it be like to have moments like these all the time? Instances of intimacy that were earth-shatteringly common.

“Do you want to sleep more? You’re up most of the night.”

Sleep? That was not anything close to what he wanted to do right at this moment. He dropped her hair and curled his hand around the back of her neck, tugging her down to lean across his chest. Suspicion and desire darkened her eyes. Both emotions sent Grant’s blood rushing south. He lifted his head and touched his lips to hers. The soft moan that slipped from her throat pulled his hips off the bed. Her mouth opened. He slipped his tongue into her heat, wishing for more. Ellie could heal him. But it was selfish to ask for her help. Whatever transpired between them couldn’t be permanent.

But he tugged her across his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he deepened the kiss. His tongue stroked hers. She answered, opening her mouth for more. He delved deeper, want and need building until they blotted out the pain he’d been carrying for more than a week. All he wanted was Ellie. He wanted to steep himself in her until nothing else existed, and he wanted it badly enough to ignore the limits of their relationship. Just for now. One afternoon. That’s all he was asking.

He slipped a hand under her sweater to caress the smooth skin of her waist. Her soft groan spurred him to move higher until he cupped her breast through the cotton of her bra. Her fingers clenched in his T-shirt, and the scrape of her nails against his skin made his erection pound. His hips lifted off the bed, seeking her body. She sat up, peeled her sweater over her head, and tossed it on the floor.

“Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, she flicked the front closure of her bra and freed her breasts. Small and round, they were in perfect proportion to her slim body. Grant cupped one in the palm of his hand. His thumb flicked over the nipple. Ellie arched back, the pleasure on her face transforming her wholesome looks into an erotic dream.

Needing more direct contact, he levered his torso up on the bed and whipped off his shirt. He slid his jeans off his legs, reached into his pocket for his wallet, and took out a condom.

Ellie stood and stripped. When she rejoined him on the bed, he rolled until she was beneath him. Skin on skin, heat on heat. This was what his body demanded. Her hand slid down his abs until she stroked his erection. Anxious to get started, it pulsed in her palm.

He gripped her wrist. “Let’s slow this down a little.”

“Says the man who isn’t used to having kids around.” Ellie reached down and cupped his balls. His hips surged toward her. “Our time is limited. I can guarantee you’ll be summoned just when things are getting good.”

The truth in her statement rang in his heart. “Things are already pretty good, but indulge me, just for a few minutes.” He wanted, needed to savor her so he could remember these moments in the lonely hours when he returned to Afghanistan.

He slid down her body. The salty, sweet tang of her skin drove all thoughts save her from his mind. Moving down her belly, he licked and tasted. The pitch of her moans guided him to her sweet spot. Her body arced. Her hands reached for his head. A primitive and shameless groan made his erection throb. Her fingers tightened on his scalp. He wanted this moment to last for as long as possible, but she was right. Their time was limited.

With a heavy feeling that almost felt like regret, he opened the condom and sheathed himself. He moved up the bed. One hand slid between her legs, testing.

“Grant.” Ellie wrapped her legs around his waist. Her whisper was breathless and urgent in his ear. “Now. Please. I’m more than ready for you.”

He nudged inside her, intending to be gentle. But pleasure flooded him, and his body surged into her without input from his brain. She bowed backward.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why did you stop?” She arched, her heels digging into his ass, pulling him even deeper.

“I thought I’d hurt you.” He panted, his muscles shaking with the effort of holding still.

“Obviously not.” Her hips moved beneath him. “Now stop thinking. That’s an order.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled back and surged forward again. Her body tightened around him as if it couldn’t get enough.

Her eyes widened. Her pupils dilated. “Grant.” His name was a moan from her lips. “More.”

Levering his torso on his hands, he swung his hips forward. Her body bent backward. Her nails dug into his shoulders. His body, his need, took over, increasing the speed and urgency of his motions. She kept pace, her hips thrusting to meet him, their bodies locked into a natural rhythm.

Ellie’s limbs tensed. Her eyes closed, and a guttural sound emanated from her lips. She clamped around him, and he let go. Pleasure shot through his spine as he surged into her one final time. Ellie wrapped her body around him, riding out the pulsing wave of their joint pleasure.

Grant’s arms gave out, and he collapsed on top of her. She eased her legs from around his waist. He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Thank you.”

“I think I should be thanking you.” Her words were light, but her eyes were worried. “Next time you say you need room to maneuver, I’ll be more than happy to comply.”

Knowing there likely wouldn’t be a next time turned the moment bittersweet, but Grant refused to let go of this small happiness. She’d just given him a gift. Soul-cleansing freedom from the grief that had been strangling his heart for days. Ellie’s warm body was better than any therapy, but their afternoon was fleeting. As she’d said before, their time was limited. “I remember the first time I saw you.”

“The barbecue.”

“Yes. You were wearing a yellow sundress. Your legs were tan. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. If I hadn’t been shipping out . . .”

Ellie cupped his jaw. Her eyes were moist. She pulled his head down and kissed him tenderly on the lips. Grant’s heart swelled until it threatened to burst from his chest. It was too much, too fast, and the timing was all wrong. But he could be happy with nothing more than Ellie in his life.

“I’ll be right back.” He eased off her body and went into the bathroom. He’d dispose of the condom quickly and return to her bed. But when he walked back into the bedroom, ready to flop down on the mattress and enjoy her naked body, she was sitting up. His cell phone was in her hand.

“You have a message.” She held the phone out to him.

Remembering the previous text, his grief and anxiety returned in an instant flood, almost as if their lovemaking had never occurred.

The message was from Hannah. The baby and Carson were both awake, and Hannah was needed on a conference call.

Disappointment flushed through Grant. No time for postsex intimacies. Those few minutes—way too few—with Ellie had energized him. They’d shown him what could be, and because of that, it could never happen again. He wouldn’t want to leave her when the time came. And he didn’t want to get used to something he was going to give up.

“Do you have everything you need?” Grant reached for his socks. “That was Hannah. We need to get back.”

“All right.” She pointed to his calf. “What’s that?”

“Shrapnel.” Grant brushed his hand over the patch of gray bumps below a burn scar on his lower leg, where tiny bits of metal had been embedded since his first tour in Iraq.

“They just left it in there?”

“Doctor said they’d do more damage trying to dig it out than leaving it alone. It’s been in there for years.” He shrugged. “I know it’s ugly, but it doesn’t hurt.”

She reached for his shoulder and turned him away from her. He felt her finger lightly trace the puckered pink scar on his back. “And this?”

“Bullet. Also Iraq.”

He turned back to her and took her hands. “Now you see why I didn’t want you to get attached to me.”

Instead of answering, she leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“We’d better go.” Moving away from him, she dressed.

With a fresh wound in his heart, Grant did the same. He stuffed his feet into his boots and picked up her bag of clothes. Ellie locked up as they left the house. He scanned the street, looking for any signs of surveillance. Was Hoodie Man, as Ellie called him, watching right now? He hadn’t relied on GPS technology alone. The picture he’d sent to Ellie clearly showed he’d also been doing personal surveillance. But tonight, Grant didn’t see or feel any eyes on him. A few cars were parked along the street. No signs of occupation, but he made a note to do another check later. He’d had enough waiting for the police to do things legally. Grant’s leave was ticking away. He needed this situation settled and his family and Ellie’s safe before he returned to the army.