Murder at Castle Rock (24 page)

Oh, okay. So I'm not dead after all. I'm just dreaming.
"I can't say that I've ever had the stalked-by-the-FBI fantasy before, but I suppose there's a first time for everything. Must be the pain-killers."

Emmett glanced at the snickering EMTs and turned a light shade of red. "I'm serious, Amelia."

"Right, I get it. Role-play. Then I get to be Mila Kunis." The fuzzy, drowsy feeling returned then, and it was lights out all over again.

*  *  *

The next time my eyes opened, it was to the blinding brightness of fluorescent bulbs. "Ack!" I threw an arm over my face. "Somebody turn that damn light off!" I cupped my hands over my eyes and peered out from my little finger cave. Four faces stared right back at me. Bronwyn, Jared—or was it Emmett?—Cliff Rogen, and Kat.

"Somebody dim the lights!" Kat demanded, rushing forward and putting her hand over my forehead as if checking for fever.
Silly Kat.
I didn't have the flu. I had a stab wound—which, for the record, hurts like a bitch. I would recommend steering clear of psychos with knives whenever possible.

I hoisted myself into a sitting position—wincing and muttering a handful of expletives as I moved my wounded leg. "I'm fine," I assured Kat as she reached behind me to fluff the pillow beneath my back. When my parents had moved to Texas after college, I'd listed Kat as my emergency contact, but the way she was fussing over me made me wish the ER had called my mother instead.

Even Bronwyn had traded her usual snark for a more serious demeanor. She scurried to my bedside, peering at me in awe. I noticed several dark bruises on her throat, but she seemed otherwise okay. "I totally thought you were dead," she murmured, her voice froggy. "You saved my life."

"I'm pretty sure you saved mine, too. That was quite a tackle you made—ever thought about trying out for a women's football league?" I managed a weak chuckle, but it was cut short when I jostled my leg. Fresh pain brought tears to my eyes. I flipped the blanket off my body and stared down at my heavily bandaged left calf. My leg appeared swollen beneath the gauze, and a sense of dread crept over me as my eyes found the wheelchair in the corner of my room.

"Don't worry—you'll walk again," said a voice from the doorway. A middle-aged woman in a doctor's coat entered the room and approached my bed. Her black ponytail was streaked with silver, and behind her glasses were kind, blue eyes. "I'm Dr. Stevenson." She reached out and patted my hand. "You lost a good deal of blood, but luckily a transfusion wasn't necessary. It seems your attacker wasn't strong enough to do irreparable damage, and the cut didn't sever any tendons." I thanked my lucky rock stars that Bronwyn had cracked Tony's skull.

"You do have forty-three, stitches, however," Dr. Stevenson continued. "You'll require physical therapy as your leg heals. I'll provide you with instructions for caring for and cleaning your wound when we discharge you tomorrow evening. I can also recommend a physical therapist. But for now, I don't care what the FBI says," she turned to give my visitors the evil eye, "it's well past visiting hours, and you need your rest." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Agent Larson, I'm going to have to ask that everyone leave and allow Miss Grace some time to recuperate."

Kat stepped forward to protest, but Jared placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let me handle this," he said in her ear. Taking a step toward Dr. Stevenson, Jared flashed her a charming smile. "Alright, Doctor,' he said pleasantly. "If you'll please allow me to stay here for Miss Grace's protection, the others will be happy to go home until regular visiting hours. As this is a matter of Amelia's safety, I have to insist that I keep close watch over her until our suspect is apprehended."
Suspect?
There was just no way Tony could've survived that fall from the tower. Could Stacy have escaped after I fainted?

"Very well." Dr. Stevenson gave a resigned sigh. "Just please try not to disturb the patient while she rests. She needs to save her strength. The road to recovery starts tomorrow."

The doctor ushered everyone out of my room, save for Jared. Kat waved a tearful goodbye, promising she'd be back first thing in the morning. She slid her arm around Bronwyn and walked her through the doorway with Cliff Rogen behind them. He paused to linger by the door as the doctor led my friends down the hall. "Really glad you're okay, ma'am," he said with a thick Southern accent. He dipped his head in a bow.

"So you
can
talk," I marveled. Hadn't I heard him say something else just before I passed out in the tower? "You're FBI, too." It was more of a question than a statement.

"So you remember, Mila?" The man I'd known as Jared grinned.

"Huh?"
Oh.
My cheeks flushed as I remembered letting my meds do the talking in the back of the ambulance. "Your name isn't Jared," I said slowly. "It's…"

"Emmett," he supplied. "Emmett Larson, FBI." Cliff cleared his throat. Jared—er,
Emmett—
gestured to the drummer. "This is my partner, Special Agent Gavin Addison."

Gavin smiled down at me with friendly brown eyes. "Pleased to meet you, officially," he said in that delightful twang. "I'm really sorry you got caught up in this mess."

"What mess, exactly?"

"It's sort of a long story," Emmett began just as an irate-looking Dr. Stevenson appeared in the doorway. She tapped her watch and gave Cliff—excuse me,
Gavin
—a reproachful look.

Gavin gave me a look of apology. "I wish you a quick recovery, Miss Grace," he said, bowing. "Agent Larson will fill you in once you've gotten some rest."

Dr. Stevenson glared at Emmett. "Agent Larson, please take your post in that chair over there, and let Miss Grace get some sleep," she said, her voice clipped. Emmett made a show of backing away from my bed and taking a seat, folding his hands behind his head.

I rolled over in the bed and pulled the blanket back over me. "Thank you, Doctor." I flashed a brilliant smile then yawned, closing my eyes. I lay still. The doctor turned off the light and gently closed the door, and I could hear her giving Agent Addison a good reaming as she pulled him down the hall. Once her voice had faded from earshot, I opened my eyes and sat up in the bed, clicking on the lamp beside it. "You were saying?" I looked expectantly at Emmett.

"Well…" He stood up to peek through the window blinds and make sure the Good Doctor wasn't returning anytime soon. Satisfied, he turned back to me. "We've been after the Stone family for months. Joey and his cousins were always just a step ahead of us in Las Vegas, and they're good about covering their tracks. We've had a hell of a time trying to pin Stone for any of the crime on the Vegas Strip, but recently some intel leaked to us about Shawn Stone. Our source claimed Joey's cousin agreed to pretend he had quit the family business out west so he could start a new underground venture near the Gulf Coast and East Coast."

According to Emmett, Shawn met with Owen Jefferson at a music conference in Vegas six months ago, and a partnership was formed. Shawn had already dipped his toes into the music industry by calling in some favors, and he'd landed the gig as Bobby Glitter's touring manager. Shawn would be able to book Bobby's comeback tour at venues along the East Coast that he and Joey wanted to purchase for their new franchise of underground casinos. They planned to use muscle if necessary to get venue owners to sell.

With Owen Jefferson owning a large percentage of the venues in the Southeast, Shawn and Joey agreed to bring him in as a partner and put him in charge of managing all venues that they purchased. He and his daughter, Stacy, would make a huge profit and eliminate a large chunk of their competition by acquiring control of those venues and managing them for the Stone family. Any owner who refused to sell would be dealt with by any means necessary.

"Unfortunately," Emmett said quietly, "Deering was hit before we could gather enough evidence to build a case against Stone and the Jeffersons."

My heart sank. "That's what Parker and Stone were arguing about that night."

Emmett nodded, taking a seat next to my bed. "Right. Agent Addison and I both have a musical background, so our source helped us land the gig as Bobby's supporting band. I've taken bass lessons since elementary school and was in a garage band in high school." He grinned. "We performed at several clubs around town and actually did covers of some songs from Bobby's old band, StarStorm. Gav's been playing since he was a kid, too. He's a great drummer but a terrible actor. We figured as long as he didn't speak and just played his set he could pass for one of those quirky rock stars who are the strong, silent type."

I arched a brow. Now I understood why the drummer had never spoken to me.

"This allowed us to go undercover on the road with Stone, monitoring his every move until we could build a solid case against him," Emmett continued. "We caught a big break when Stone approached me and propositioned me to be his muscle when convincing the first owner to sign over the deed to his venue. It was Parker. Stone said he'd met him in Vegas. He made an offer for the property, but Deering refused—so Stone got his goons to rough him up a bit and told him they'd be paying him a visit in Atlanta really soon.

"Meanwhile, Owen Jefferson did some digging on Parker, and they found out that he had no living relatives. If Deering wouldn't comply when Shawn came to town to buy Castle Rock, all it would take would be an unfortunate 'accident' to get Parker out of the way. There was no will on file, so his property would go to the state. Then Owen could use his connections in the Georgia state government to work out a deal for purchasing the property at a much cheaper price than they would have paid Parker."

"So, that night when you followed Shawn and Parker—Stone wanted you to rough him up?" I swallowed hard.

"Yes," Emmett looked guilty. "I wouldn't let it get that far, though—I got in his face and made a few verbal threats so I could keep Stone's trust, but I never laid a hand on him. Unfortunately, Stone had a hit man in his back pocket that we weren't aware of. When I didn't use enough force for his liking, he gave Tony the green light. Gavin and I were onstage with Bobby when it happened. By the time we found out, it was too late. Parker was already dead." He looked at me with sorrowful green eyes. "I'm so sorry, Amelia."

I bit my lip. I was right all along to suspect Shawn, but I'd never seen Tony or Stacy coming—and they'd never seen
Kat
coming. Stone thought he could just kill Parker and then buy Castle Rock for dirt cheap. No wonder Parker had married Kat in secret. If anything happened to him, Castle Rock would go to her.

"How did you guys figure out that Tony and Stacy were the killers?"

"Actually, I have you to thank for that," Emmett grinned. "Gavin stayed behind in the hotel on Tuesday night to monitor Shawn's emails and phone calls, trying to decode any hidden messages to Joey or his goons. In order to keep suspicion off us, I went out with Bobby and Candy for a night on the town like any normal band mate would. When we bumped into you and Tony at The Cavern, I knew I'd seen his face before—I just couldn't remember where. I shrugged it off for a while, but the more I saw him, the more it tore at me.

"At the same time, Detective Dixon did a background check on all the members of our crew. He'd found out about Shawn Stone's past, but sources claimed he'd sworn off the family business and was working in the music industry now, which checked out. What he couldn't find, though, were backgrounds for either 'Jared Flynn' or 'Cliff Rogen.'" Emmett looked sheepish. "Since we hadn't anticipated running into this kind of trouble, headquarters hadn't supplied us with full backgrounds. Dixon tailed us this afternoon and confronted us."

"Two trained FBI agents couldn't spot a local cop following you?" I glanced sideways at him.

Emmett looked embarrassed. "I probably would've figured him out if I hadn't been so distracted." He met my gaze, his green eyes sincere. "I was concerned that you were getting yourself in too deep by investigating Stone. I'd tried telling you to back off, but nothing I said was getting through to you, so…" His voice trailed off.

"So what?"

His cheeks burned. "So, I left you that note," he said quietly.

"That was you?" My eyes went wide. I thought back to the sign-in clipboard at my apartment complex.
Emmett's name was on that list, wasn't it?

"I know, I know." His chin drooped. "It was stupid and unprofessional—but I was starting to feel, well, desperate. I needed to make you to take the situation seriously without blowing my cover. But you were—"

"Stubborn." I finished for him. "I was too stubborn to listen to you, and I almost got Bronwyn killed." My eyes grew misty. "God, how could I have been so stupid?"

"Don't think that." Emmett laid his hand over mine, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm. I raised my eyes to his. "You saved that girl's life—and ultimately, you saved Kat, too. Tony would've gone after her as soon as the two of you were out of the way."

"And then you showed up." I lifted my gaze to his. "How did you know where to find us?"

"Dixon confronted me at your apartment building, and I decided that I'd need his cooperation if we were going to bring Shawn down. I told him the truth, and we headed back to the police station to brief Sinclair. While I was there, I got an FBI 'Most Wanted' update alert on my cell. When Tony's face showed up on my screen, everything clicked. He was really Antonio Spencer Stone, another one of the Stone cousins. I called Gavin back at the hotel just as he was decoding a text Shawn sent to Tony's phone. It marked you as the next target. We tracked Tony's phone to the tower and got there as fast as we could. When I saw you lying there, bleeding like that…" He squeezed my hand. "I thought I'd lost you."

"Huh?" I blinked at him.

Emmett laced his fingers through mine and dipped his face closer. "You're an amazing woman, Amelia." His lips brushed my cheek and then moved to my mouth. The kiss was slow and sweet, and it sent a shiver all the way to my toes—the ones that I could still feel now that the pain-killers were kicking back in, anyway.