When a Secret Kills (5 page)

It seemed like each time she opened her mouth she delivered a punch that left Colton breathless. And shocked. He finally found his tongue again. “Governor Martin? Are you insane? Are you sure you have the right person?”

She snorted and crossed her arms. “I was quite sane . . . still am, thank you. And I knew exactly who it was. I voted for the man. He was my very first vote after I turned eighteen. Trust me, I recognized him.”

Colton couldn’t sit still a minute longer. He stood and began to pace from one end of the room to the other. And back. “I don’t believe this.”

Her sigh sounded weary and for a moment he wondered if she’d recant her crazy story. Then she said, “It really doesn’t matter if you believe it or not. I’m here to prove it, with or without your help. I happen to be very good at finding the truth.” She walked to the window facing the front of the house and parted the blinds once again.

Colton frowned at her skittishness. She sure believed what she was saying. “And that attack in the airport? That was someone trying to shut you up before you could say anything?”

“Yes.”

Her simple answer made him antsy. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” She looked around. “Where are Serena’s animals? I didn’t think to ask her when she dropped me off.”

“Her fish died. The cat and dog are at the vet getting their annual checkups.”

She lifted a brow at him. “And you know this how?”

“Serena asked if I’d pick them up when I was finished here. She and Dominic have a date.”

Jillian looked out the window again, shut the blinds, and paced over to the glassed-in porch.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching. Waiting.”

“For what?”

“For him to strike again.”

Her flat certainty caused the first swirls of anxiety to kick up a beat in his gut. “Jilly, hon—”

She whirled. “Don’t call me that!”

He flinched at the ferocity in her eyes, the flare of her nostrils—and the ready-to-fight stance. Colton held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry.” He kept his tone soft, soothing. “I’m sorry.” The nickname had come easy, naturally, rolling off his tongue as though the past ten years had never happened.

Jillian spun around, keeping her gaze away from him, but he thought he caught a flash of tears before she could hide them. Colton sighed. Whether he believed her story or not, Jillian believed it. His mind almost couldn’t process the change in her. She’d been a sweet teen, a little shy and reserved, but good-hearted. And she’d loved him with everything in her. He knew that then. He knew it now. But this woman before him wasn’t the young high school sweetheart he remembered. Jillian had changed, and grown up strong—and suspicious.

Still facing the porch window, she asked, “What about Camille,
where is she?” Camille Hughes, the teen Serena had taken under her wing.

“Since the attempts on her life, Serena felt like Camille would be safer with her parents.”

She turned back to him, shoulders stiff, features composed. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure why. I’m uneasy and edgy and I don’t like it. Whenever I feel like this, something always happens.”

Colton felt his frown deepen. “This place is tighter than Fort Knox. You’re fine here.”

“Mentally, I get that. My gut’s screaming at me, though.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “I want to check on something.”

“What did you see?”

“Nothing. At least nothing really out of the ordinary.”

But she’d seen something disturbing enough to want to check it out.

Colton shot to his feet and followed her to the front door. She punched in the code to disarm the alarm and they stepped outside. He watched her take in her surroundings. She bristled like a spooked porcupine. The hot, muggy southern night made sweat break out across his brow and in the middle of his lower back. The smells of honeysuckle and freshly mowed grass hit him. But nothing that triggered his internal alarms.

Something had set hers off, though. Jillian hurried around the side of the house. Colton followed, watchful, but not overly concerned.

Behind him, a loud boom rocked the house.

A scream came from around the corner.

Spinning, he lost his balance as the ground shook. He went to his knees, arms outstretched. The front door of the house landed beside him. Flames licked through the shattered windows.

Fear caught his breath as much as the smoke covering him. “Jillian!”

She appeared in front of a haze of smoke, blood on her forehead. “Colton! Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the burning house. With his left hand, he grabbed his phone as neighbors stepped out of their homes to gape, phones pressed to their ears. He paused. The neighbors would handle the 911 call. He punched in Hunter’s number.

Hunter answered on the third ring. Colton cut off his greeting. “Someone just blew up Serena’s house. I need you out here now.”

“On the way.” Hunter severed the connection and Colton knew he was already calling in reinforcements. Hunter’s unspoken questions would be answered soon enough.

“What was it? How did—” Jillian gasped and gaped.

Smoke billowed toward them. “We’ll figure that out later. Right now, we’re too exposed. Whoever did that wanted you dead.”

“You think?”

“Sarcasm’s not your best asset.” He pulled her toward his truck. She stumbled along behind him. He opened the driver’s door and she hauled herself up and into the passenger seat. Colton climbed in after her and slammed the door shut. “Hunker down. No sense in attracting a sniper’s bullet if someone’s holed up and watching.”

But she was already hunched down, her eyes scanning the neighbors’ windows.

Okay. Now he was concerned.

Twisting the key, he looked at her. “Someone means business about getting rid of you.” Colton pressed the gas pedal and backed the truck from the front of the burning house. He pulled down the street and parked. Far enough away so he could watch the crowd gathering and keep Jillian safe if whoever had done this was still around and wanting to finish the job.

Shaking, she gave a humorless laugh. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Her lips twisted. “They would have succeeded too, if I hadn’t seen those birds.” She looked back at Serena’s house
and Colton followed her gaze. Tears flooded her eyes. “And they don’t seem to care if they have collateral damage.”

Through the truck windows he’d left cracked, the faint sound of sirens reached his ears. “Help’s on the way.” He blinked. “Birds?” He pulled a handful of napkins from the center console and leaned over to press one to the cut on her forehead.

She replaced his hand with hers. “When I was looking out the window. A whole mess of them flew into the air like they’d been disturbed. I wanted to know what disturbed them.”

“Disturbed birds? We’re alive because you saw—” He shook his head. Unbelievable. “It could have been a dog or—”

“I know that,” Jillian snapped. She pulled in a deep breath and said with less heat, “I know that. But for the past ten years I’ve been in the habit of checking every little thing that seems . . . off.”

They had no more time to talk. Fire trucks screeched to a halt in front of Serena’s house. Fire chief Hayden McDonald bolted from the truck and started yelling orders as hoses were hooked up.

Police cruisers pulled up and Colton waited for the unmarked cars to arrive within a few minutes.

He and Hunter had plans to make.

What was she going to do? Jillian watched the firefighters get to work on Serena’s house and shook her head at the senseless devastation. The cut on her forehead stung, but it wasn’t deep and had already stopped bleeding. The flames reached higher.

Oh, Serena, I’m so sorry!
She paused in her thoughts, then prayed,
But thank you, God, we’re still alive.

Officers swarmed the area, an ambulance arrived, and the neighbors clustered in a tight group to watch the action. Panic started to close in on her and Jillian took a deep breath, reaching for calm in the midst of the chaos. She could do this. She’d planned and
trained for this. God willing, she would accomplish her goal and survive doing it.

But at what cost? What about those who wanted to help her? Who placed themselves around her? People she cared about, people like Jeff back in California. Someone had already died because of her.

“Having second thoughts about coming back?” Colton’s quiet question jarred her.

“Yes.” She looked at the burning house and hardened her resolve. “Yes, but I know it’s the right thing to do.”

He studied her long enough to make her start to squirm. Finally, he said, “Then come on, let’s go give a statement. And while we’re out there, I want you to scan the crowd. See if you recognize anyone. Anyone suspicious.”

She snorted. “It won’t be anyone I know. Whoever did this was a hired killer. Your uncle’s not going to do his own dirty work.”

Colton’s nostrils flared, but he held his tongue and simply nodded. “Still, I want you to look.”

“Fine.”

They climbed from the truck. As they approached, two officers stood outside the taped-off area, far enough from the house so as not to interfere with the work of the firemen. Steady streams of water surged from the hoses. Colton flashed his badge, gave his name to the officer, and together they walked to the fire trucks.

Jillian spotted Alexia, her firefighter uniform making her look like something from an alien movie. She’d removed her helmet and sweat ran in small rivers down the sides of her face. Marks from her mask still creased her forehead and cheeks. When she spotted Jillian and Colton walking toward her, her eyes went wide and she broke away from the chaos to meet them halfway. Alexia threw her arms around Jillian.

“You’re all right?” Alexia asked.

“Yes. Scared and shaken, but alive.”

Concern in her eyes, Alexia shook her head. “What happened? Was there a gas leak or something?”

“Not exactly,” Jillian muttered.

Colton said, “I’ve called Hunter and a buddy at the ATF. He said he’d handle the case.”

Alexia’s eyes narrowed. “ATF. Someone blew up the house on purpose.”

Jillian shivered. But of course the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms would get involved.

Colton gripped his phone. “I’m asking Dominic to help as well.”

“The FBI?” Jillian asked. “But this wouldn’t be an FBI case.”

Colton lifted a brow. “It’s an FBI case if someone requests FBI assistance.” His jaw tightened as he looked at the house. “I’m officially requesting assistance. And besides, he’s going to want to be involved in catching the person who did this to Serena’s house.” He looked at Jillian. “I think I’m convinced there’s merit to your story. Parts of it anyway.”

Relief swelled inside her as Hunter pulled up to the scene. She looked at the house being soaked by several high-powered water hoses, then back at Colton. “The part where I insist someone wants me dead?”

“That would be the biggest part.” He shook his head and punched the touchpad. She heard him mutter, “I think we need to go fishing.”

“What?” she stared at him, puzzled. Had she heard him right?

“I’ll explain later.” His attention focused on something behind her as he made a quick call to Dominic.

She turned. Katie and Hunter. Serena should be here soon, but thankfully, her medical services weren’t needed at this scene.

Hunter caught her eye, then looked past her to motion to Colton.

Colton nodded and said, “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m going with you.”

She could see the protest in his eyes and simply notched her chin
higher. A sigh slipped from his lips, and without another word, he headed in Hunter’s direction. Giving the burning house a wide berth, Jillian followed Colton around the outside of the fence that separated Serena’s backyard and her neighbor’s. She saw Katie standing next to a large playhouse.

Colton nodded toward the main house and asked her, “Is anyone home?”

“Nope. I knocked several times. Nothing. We’ve got uniforms canvassing the area, questioning the neighbors. Hopefully someone saw something.”

Colton nodded and looked at Jillian. “Was this where you saw the birds?”

She thought about it, closed her eyes, and pictured them taking flight. “Yes.” She opened her eyes. “I think they came from the tree, though. I was looking out the window and they just all scattered like something scared them. And that—” she shrugged—“scared me.”

He looked from the playhouse to the tree. “I want the crime scene unit over here before we start messing with this area.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and punched a speed-dial number. “Rick? Colton here. How far away is your unit?”

“Right behind you.”

Jillian turned to see Rick.

Colton pocketed his phone. “Thanks for not wasting any time. If you’re here, you must be short staffed again.”

“I am. What do you have?”

Colton filled him in while Hunter and Katie discussed various possibilities about how the “bomber” had launched an explosive device from this yard without being seen or heard.

“How far do you think it is from here to Serena’s?” Katie asked.