Callahan And McLane: Targeted Part 11

Oh, Jayne. What did you do?

At least her sister was locked up and reasonably safe. If the man was following Ava and asking questions, it meant he didn't know where to find her sister. A good thing.

Is he dangerous?

She skipped the produce and went to pay for her olive oil and crackers, looking over her shoulder for David as she waited in the checkout line. She didn't see him. After paying she grabbed her items and went out the far door of the grocery store. She'd parked by the other door, but she knew there were a few trees and pillars at this end from which she could un.o.btrusively watch both entrances.

She stood behind the second pillar and watched. Nothing. His basket had held two items . . . both boxes of cookies. Things he could have picked up in the aisle where he'd finally approached her.

He hadn't been shopping; he'd been following her.

For how long?

She'd left the task force meeting in downtown Portland and then driven out to her office by the airport. After a few hours there, she'd gone straight to the grocery store . . . which wasn't anywhere near the small shop where she'd bought Jayne's painting. If David knew Ava was an FBI agent, he could have waited near her office building until he saw her leave and followed. Did he know where she lived?

Bingo's odd outdoor behavior popped into her head.

Had someone been in their backyard?

Dread crept up her spine. That would be very heavy-handed for a bill collection agency. It spoke of something much more important. Whom was Jayne mixed up with?

She had to talk to Mason. She'd forgotten to tell him about Bingo after the task force meeting.

Do I need to reach out to Jayne?

She wondered if Jayne's doctors would let her see her twin. Her stomach churned at the thought of facing and questioning her sister. Ava touched her left side below her ribs. She'd nearly died from a secondary infection after being shot that summer. She'd been mentally off her game, traumatized by Jayne's suicide attempt, which Jayne had made Ava believe was her fault. The months apart had been necessary for Ava to heal mentally and emotionally. She'd had to distance herself from her twin in every way.

Was she ready to bridge that gap?

Was Jayne ready? Her therapists felt the distance had been good for her.

"Dammit." Ava didn't know what to do.

She kept her gaze on both grocery store doors. People came and went, but not the man she was waiting for. He could have immediately left when she'd run off, realizing that she didn't believe their meeting was a coincidence.

He must have traced Jayne through the art show newspaper announcement, hoping she'd show up. Instead the second-best person had shown up: her twin. Is that when he'd started to follow Ava, hoping she'd lead him to Jayne?

She mentally ran through the information that would be available about Jayne on the Internet. It would primarily be newspaper articles on arrests. Jayne moved so frequently, she had to be next to impossible to track. Even Ava hadn't known where to find her half their lives.

But Ava had a more stable history. Any skilled skip tracer would figure out her home address through utility bills. "f.u.c.k." Both she and Mason were very careful about keeping their private lives out of reach of the public, but professionals who searched for missing people knew how to find almost anyone.

What will he do next?

"Do I care?" she mumbled out loud. It was none of her business. If Jayne owed someone money, then she needed to pay. Of course she didn't have any money to pay with, but it wasn't Ava's responsibility to get her out of debt. "Not my monkeys." Jayne could dig her own way out of her problems. Ava had already paid for enough of them.

She stepped out from behind the pillar, feeling foolish for allowing Jayne's problems to get in her head. I should know better. I do know better!

The man chose that moment to exit the grocery store, two cloth bags of groceries in his hands.

Ava scowled and stepped back behind the pillar. He'd bought more groceries and brought his own bags?

Confused, she watched him walk through the parking lot. He didn't search the parking lot as if looking for her. He walked straight to his car, a small convertible Mercedes that she didn't understand why an Oregonian would own, due to the weather. The license plate was out of her view. She stepped out again, trying to position herself to catch a glimpse of the plate.

He backed out of the spot and immediately turned, effectively keeping his plate from her view. She hustled into the lot, no longer caring if he saw her or not. She was determined to find out who was following her. His car sped to the road and turned, vanishing before she could see the plate. She couldn't confirm it was an Oregon plate.

"d.a.m.n." She stood in the parking lot clutching her oil and crackers. Should I go ask to see their camera footage? She knew she could show her badge and probably get plenty of cooperation. But she had pride in her ethics.

And she'd like to keep her job.

Was he a skip tracer? The Mercedes had looked new. She didn't know how much money people in that profession made, but she bet the really good ones were in high demand. Or was his source of income from something dirtier? More dangerous?

She unlocked her car, mentally cursing her twin. For two months she'd been able to keep Jayne mostly out of her thoughts. She'd known exactly where Jayne was and trusted that her therapists would keep her safe and out of trouble. Now she'd taken over Ava's focus without lifting a finger.

What would Dr. Griffen say? Ava fought the urge to call the kind therapist who'd helped her ease Jayne's control of her brain. She took a few deep breaths and tried to look at the situation from a distance. She'd tell me to move on. Let it roll off my back.

But she would bring it up to Mason. If someone had spied on their home, he needed to know.

Mason stared at the ground in their backyard. It looked the same as all the other barkdust in the yard to him. Messy. Splintery. Brown.

"It appears to you that someone stood here?" he asked.

Beside him Ava put her hands on her hips. "I thought it did. I'm not so sure now." She looked at Bingo, who sat next to her, his tail slashing through the gra.s.s. He gave a doggy smile, unconcerned about their discussion.

"Show me exactly where Bingo sniffed," Mason directed. Ava walked along the back of their yard, pointing and explaining what Bingo had done. Mason agreed it was unusual behavior for the dog. Usually he picked the closest patch of gra.s.s when he was let out of the house. But he did have a fascination for squirrels, and Mason could understand the dog's behavior if he'd felt his territory had been trespa.s.sed on by a gray, furry rodent.

Mason didn't know what to think. Ava's story about the man at the grocery store bothered him. She wasn't the type to get overly concerned about nothing. She had good instincts. Even though she'd proved she was extremely capable of taking care of herself, he worried for her safety. He couldn't help it.

She was his other half.

Any hint of a threat to her filled him with concern.

"The security system is good," he said. "Bingo is an extra layer of protection. If someone comes remotely close to the house, the dog lets us know." He looked over at her as they both stood in the darkening yard. She was listening, hanging on his every word, and he could see she was worried.

He knew she wasn't worried for her safety; she was worried about the drama in their lives.

Mason was a no-drama person. Ava was, too. But her twin had always projected her excess drama into their lives, and Ava hated it.

"She's locked away and it still hasn't stopped," muttered Ava. "I thought it was over."

"We don't know this is about her," Mason pointed out.

"That man asked about her. Twice," said Ava. "He wants to find her, and he's going to use us to do it. I don't know if he's dangerous." She raised her arms in the air, tipping her head back. "Am I wasting brain power worrying about it? I feel like I've suddenly dropped four levels in my recovery." She lowered her arms, meeting his gaze. "It wasn't just a physical healing."

"I know." He did know. All too well. "Let's call her therapist right now and see if anyone's reached out to her or the recovery center looking for your sister."

Relief flowed over her face. Ava simply needed someone to share the burden of Jayne. They had agreed she'd tell Mason when she needed help; he wanted to help, but she was horrible about asking. He had to push and prod his way into her problems, and it went against his personal rule to mind his own business.

They were both stubborn and independent people.

They turned back to the house and he caught her hand, holding it as they walked. The sky had darkened with low gray clouds and the backyard was quiet and calm. He looked up at the back of the home they'd bought together. A few strings of outdoor lights dangled over the deck, adding a warm, homey glow. Pride and contentment washed over him. He'd never known this was what he wanted. He'd a.s.sumed he'd retire and move to a warm beach and become one of those unshaven guys who read books and sit at a bar for companionship all day.

It sounded lonely and empty. At one time it'd sounded relaxing and warm.

He'd never so looked forward to fall. The cooling temperatures had brought back the lush green Pacific Northwest colors after the long, dry summer. He even loved the sight of the fluorescent-colored thin jackets the runners wore along with their gloves and knit hats. He'd hauled in a big load of firewood and stacked it in his utility shed, excited to use their woodstove in the evenings. Wine, a fire, and his soon-to-be wife.

My wife. He squeezed her hand and she glanced at him and smiled, her eyes lighting up in the dim evening glow. He'd left the wedding plans up to her. She occasionally asked him for an opinion, but he'd told her to let him know what time to show up and what to wear. Cheryl had mentioned Ava was struggling to make decisions, but he figured that was normal for a bride. She'd have one wedding in her life; this was it for the both of them.

At least for him. She could do whatever she wanted once he was dead.

He was going to die first; he'd made her promise.

She'd looked at him as if he were crazy, but agreed. He'd suspected she thought he was simply making a joke, but he'd been deadly serious. He didn't want to rebuild a life without her; he was done starting over.

He followed her up the deck stairs, and she pulled out her phone to call the therapist.

"Oh!" She halted before entering the house. "An email from Jayne." She frowned. "That's two this week. That's unusual."

Mason peered over her shoulder as she opened the email. It started with an explanation from Jayne's therapist that she was sending the extra email from Jayne because she thought it was beautifully written and showed a great improvement in Jayne's state of mind.

"Oh, brother," Ava muttered. She squared her shoulders as she scrolled down to the body of the email.

Mason wondered if Jayne had snowed the entire staff at the recovery center. He knew as well as Ava that someone like Jayne didn't make "great improvements" this rapidly. What Jayne did was adapt to situations and figure out how to use people to get what she wanted. Didn't her therapists see that?

Dear Ava, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sitting here in my room and I'm overwhelmed by the decades of h.e.l.l I've dragged you through. I see it so distinctly now. You were always the stable and good one, while I ran wild and tried to stir up everyone around me. My brain and body craved both physical and mental stimulation, and it felt good when the people around me were upset. It gave me a rush of energy that I could make that happen. I understand now that I was sick. It's no excuse. I should have known what I was doing was wrong. Actually I did know it was wrong! I just didn't care to stop it. It felt too good. It gave me something I needed.

How clear everything looks today. It scares me that I might not see it tomorrow. I know it's the medications that free my brain, take away the need for the constant stimulation. It scares me that my future is reliant on a pill bottle. What if they stop working? What if my body compensates for the chemicals and I go back to the way I was? Sometimes the future is scarier than my past.

Mason snorted. He'd seen what Jayne had done in the past to Ava. It was amazing that Ava wasn't in a nuthouse.

Sheer force of will had kept Ava's head above water.

I'm not asking you to forgive me. I realize that's a huge step. All I want you to know is that I can see it now. I see it all.

"No, you don't see it, Jayne," Ava muttered. "Forgiveness is the easy part. I've had to forgive you over and over because if I don't then I can't move on with my life."

I won't hurt you again.

Love, Jayne Mason read it again, searching for the subtext that Ava had taught him to look for. "Is she going to try suicide again?" he asked bluntly. "Because that's the only way I know of that she won't hurt you again."

"I don't think so," Ava said. "That last line is a bit dramatic but not in the usual Jayne way. I'm trying to figure out what's happened that makes her feel the need to apologize."

"Has she ever said anything like this to you before?"

Ava was quiet for a few moments. "Not exactly. Usually this sort of thing would spill out of her when she was drunk and regretting something she'd done. I will say her ability to experience regret has diminished over the years. In high school she used to have huge bawling sessions where she moaned about the things she'd done and beg me to forgive her. Looking back, I suspect it was her way of reliving the event and reiterating that she'd managed to rip out a piece of my heart."

Ava's matter-of-fact tone told him she'd cut off her emotions to a.n.a.lyze the email. She'd developed the habit of learning from her sister's behavior instead of being engulfed by it. He hated that Jayne still pushed her into that mind-set.

"I suspect you're right," he admitted. "The therapist seems to think this is a big step. You don't agree?"

"No, not at all." She gave him a shaky smile. "Jayne will never recover. She will always be searching for the next way to exploit the people closest to her. I think she likes the praise this letter must have earned her from her doctors."

From any other person's mouth, those words would have made Mason raise an eyebrow, believing they were too pessimistic. But over the last ten months, he'd learned that Ava knew exactly what she was talking about when it came to her sister.

He wrapped his arms around his almost-wife and pulled her tightly to him. A small shudder went through her as she leaned her forehead against his shoulder.

"I'll call the therapist tomorrow," he said. "Consider that task removed from your plate. We still need to know if anyone has been looking for Jayne."

"Don't argue with the doctor."

"I won't. I'll tell her how we view the email and let her handle that information as she pleases. I suspect my words will later haunt her when Jayne lets her down."

"She will, won't she?" Ava whispered.

"Every time."

14.

Bingo barked as if a dozen wolves were in the house.

Mason was out of bed and halfway down the hall before he'd fully awakened. He dashed into the kitchen, where Bingo leaped and snarled at the back door. His nails scratched the gla.s.s and paint as he threw himself at the door over and over. Seeing no one through the gla.s.s, Mason yanked open the door, and Bingo launched himself off their deck. The interior house lights still off, Mason watched as Bingo tore about the yard, barking at the top of his lungs.

Mason saw nothing to make his dog act insane. As he scanned the backyard, he felt Ava stop behind him.

"See anything?" she whispered.

"No."

"He's a good alarm. Do we need to call the police?"

His concentration was fixed on the dog, who'd stopped to sniff a patch of gra.s.s. "What do we tell them? Our dog is freaking out? Come drive through the neighborhood?"

Ava sighed. "I know. It sounds ridiculous."

"Bingo's calmed down. Whatever it was is gone."

"Whoever it was," Ava corrected. "He wouldn't do that over a squirrel."

"I thought he was going to break down the back door. He heard something he didn't like in the backyard."

"I hope he scared whoever enough to keep him out of our neighborhood."