Scarlet Falls: Hour of Need Part 32

Grant and the cops raced across the asphalt. Ellie! Blood soaked her pale blue sweater. Grant skidded to his knees beside her, his hands on her head, seeking the damage. He had to stop the bleeding. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't.

"Grant." She wriggled in his grip. "I'm all right."

His fingers delved through her hair. Her hand came up and covered his, stopping his frantic examination of her scalp. "I'm OK. It's Victor's blood, not mine."

Unable to comprehend her words, Grant turned. Victor was on his back. The cop's bullet had caught him in the shoulder. They'd handcuffed him. One officer was applying pressure to the shoulder wound while another tried to stop the bleeding from a huge gash on his head. Ellie's blow with the ice skate had split his forehead open. His skull gleamed white through the blood. Once Victor was restrained, an EMT took over.

Ellie's tug on his arm broke his stare. "Please, let's get away from him."

"Of course." He scooped her off the ground.

"I can walk," she said.

"I know, but I want to hold you right now." He wished he never had to let her go.

She leaned her head on his chest. "That works for me."

He carried her to the gra.s.s twenty feet away and set her down. A second EMT knelt beside her.

"I'm fine," she said.

Grant took her hand. He needed constant physical contact to convince himself she really was all right.

"Let me make sure." The EMT cleaned her face with water and gauze. "That's the best I can do. I don't even see a scratch. You're sure nothing hurts?"

"Positive. Thank you."

The EMT walked away.

McNamara approached. He stood in front of them, both hands propped on his hips. "You're not hurt?"

"No," Ellie said. "But I don't understand what happened."

Grant squeezed her hand. She might be physically uninjured, but the events of the last week would leave a psychological scar. "Lindsay Hamilton didn't commit suicide. Regan and Autumn killed her by accident in a prank that went horribly wrong. For some reason, Victor helped them cover up their crime."

"Oh, no." Ellie pressed a hand to the base of her throat. "Victor said Regan seduced him."

"So she threatened to tell unless he covered for her." Grant glanced at the cop. "What's the age for statutory rape in New York State?"

The cop sighed. "He's older than twenty-one, so sixteen. Third-degree rape is a cla.s.s E felony. He could have gotten four years in prison."

The rear door of the building opened. Mac came out. Julia peered around his body. He scanned the situation before allowing her to run out from behind him. Sobbing, she ran to Ellie and threw her arms around her mother. Even as Ellie comforted her daughter, Grant kept hold of her hand. After the horrors he'd endured over the past week, he'd finally gotten lucky.

Chapter Thirty-Seven.

Grant crept into the bedroom of the Residence Inn. Carson and Hannah shared a double bed. His sister was on her side, snoring, one arm draped over the boy. Grant tugged the covers over Carson's shoulders. Moving to the portable crib, he reached down and played a hand on Faith's back. Well past her witching hours, she slept soundly. The rise and fall of her body under his palm tightened his chest. He could have lost all three of them in that fire.

With a deep breath, he left the room and softly closed the door. He walked past the second bedroom, where Julia and Nan slept, and into the kitchenette. The sight of Ellie making coffee stirred more emotions inside him, grat.i.tude, affection-and desire. Always desire, it seemed.

Stepping up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her body. "I should have gotten another room. Then you could be sleeping, too."

"It's dawn, and I'm too keyed up to be still." She leaned back, resting her head against his chest. "The couch opens if you want to lie down."

Her hair was still wet from her shower, but Grant could still see it splattered with Victor's blood. He'd never get that sight out of his head.

"I'm fine." He rested his chin on her head. "McNamara will be here soon. He texted me a few minutes ago." The street had still been blocked by emergency vehicles. After they'd finished answering questions at the police station, the cops had dropped them all off at the motel. A uniform had brought Grant's phone from the rental sedan and some clothes from Ellie's house. The convenience store across the street from the motel had supplied them with enough staples to get through the night.

A soft knock sounded on the door. Reluctantly, he released her and let Detective McNamara in.

"Thanks." The cop accepted a cup of coffee and sat at the small oak table. Ellie and Grant joined him.

"Do I need to wake my lawyer?" Grant asked.

"Please don't." McNamara sighed. "I'm only here to give you an update, not arrest you."

Last night at the police station, Hannah had neatly cut off an obstruction of justice charge.

The cop downed half his mug. "Here's how it shakes out. Regan and Autumn were p.i.s.sed that Victor was giving this new girl attention. They decided to torment her. But it backfired. Victor felt bad and started looking out for Lindsay. Regan and Autumn got madder and meaner. They planned that stunt in the woods knowing Lindsay was close to quitting the skating club. They thought they'd pushed her over the edge. As you saw," McNamara nodded at Grant, "it went as wrong as it could, and Lindsay died."

With the replay of the video playing in his head, Grant reached for Ellie's hand. She anch.o.r.ed him.

"Regan and Autumn went to Victor. Regan had plenty of leverage on him. In case there's any question about Lindsay killing herself, he gives the kids an alibi. He also took Regan's burner phone. She wanted to keep the video, but Victor knew that was a bad idea. He also knew that deleting the video wasn't enough. It could still be recovered, so he takes the cell as a condition of his cooperation, planning on destroying it after he finishes at the rink for the night. But it went missing. The only other person in the rink that night was Kate.

"Victor and Kate had had an affair about a year and a half ago, so their working relationship was already strained, but she started treating him very oddly. They argued. Kate overheard his conversation with the girls. She took the phone from his jacket in the office. Victor threatened to tell Lee about their affair if Kate didn't give the phone back. But in the end, he knew she'd do the right thing. So he hired Donnie to kill Kate and recover the phone."

Disbelief floored Grant. "So the target was Kate, not Lee."

"That's insane." Ellie turned her hand over and squeezed his fingers.

"How does an ice-skating coach find a contract killer?" Grant asked.

"Donnie played hockey under the scholarship program for troubled kids," McNamara answered. "And Victor was Donnie's first client. As far as we know, Donnie never killed anyone before he was incarcerated. Most of his early crimes were Internet-based. In fact, he knew how to find Lee and Kate by hacking into Kate's online calendar app. But after he was a.s.saulted in prison, the Aryan Brotherhood helped him kill his attacker, who was a member of a rival gang. Donnie developed a taste for violence. His girlfriend's death was caused by autoerotic asphyxiation. They were both into BDSM. That last night Donnie was with her, he got carried away."

Grant intertwined his fingers with Ellie's.

"The fireman ran across some other things we've been looking for in the house." McNamara pulled an envelope out of his briefcase. "Your brother's will. There's nothing in it that pertains to the case."

"Where did you find it?" Grant touched the envelope.

"Your brother was using the old dumbwaiter as a hidey-hole. He'd boarded up the opening, but the shaft is brick, and the contents survived the fire," McNamara said. "The Hamilton file was in there as well."

"So what did Lee know?" Grant asked. "Though I guess it doesn't matter, since he wasn't the target."

"Something we all missed." McNamara tapped the edge of the table. "Lindsay had received hara.s.sing pictures on her phone, but her phone had been wiped by a virus. Lindsay had a friend back in California that she texted extensively with. His name is Jose. Lee called him and found out that Lindsay had forwarded one of the photos to him before her phone was wiped out. It was a particularly nasty picture of a doll made to look like Lindsay and hanging by a string. Here's where Regan and Autumn screwed up. The picture was geotagged."

"Geotagged?"

"The location where the picture was taken is embedded in the picture. This particular picture was taken at Regan's house," the cop said. "So Lee really did find something to tie one of those girls to Lindsay's hara.s.sment."

"And Corey Swann?" Ellie asked.

The cop nodded. "Not saying a word, but he was in possession of the burner phone he used to text his threats to you. The camera mounted in front of Ellie's house was wireless and motion sensitive. He used your own wireless network to send himself footage. Seriously, 'Julia1' isn't a very secure pa.s.sword. He could watch the house live or view the captured feed at his leisure. Possession of the burner phone is enough to charge him with extortion. I'm sure we're going to find all sorts of evidence in our investigation."

The cop got up. "Call me if you have any other questions. I'll let you two digest all this and get some rest."

Ellie locked the door behind McNamara. Still sitting at the table, Grant tapped on the envelope.

"Are you going to open that?" she asked.

"No. I should wait for Mac and Hannah." He stood and stretched. "That couch is looking pretty good. How about we stretch out and close our eyes until everyone wakes up?"

He tugged her to the sofa and pulled her down next to him. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he leaned back and closed his eyes. McNamara's information was almost too much to absorb. Kate had an affair? She'd been the target of a killer because she'd withheld information from the police. She'd sat on that phone for weeks, afraid of losing her husband when he found out about her infidelity.

Ellie put her hand in the center of his chest, right over his heart. "Are you all right?"

"I just need a little time to take it all in."

Faith cried from the bedroom.

"I'll get her." Ellie stood.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. "No, I got it."

Maybe the last thing he needed was time to think.

Chapter Thirty-Eight.

"Excuse me." Grant stopped at the nursing station on his way to his father's room. Only one day had pa.s.sed since the fire. Ellie, Julia, and Nan had returned to their home. Hannah and the kids were still in the motel. Lee's house wasn't salvageable.

A nurse in pink scrubs looked up at him over her reading gla.s.ses. She blew short, gray-blond bangs out of her eyes. "Yes, sir?"

"I'm Colonel Barrett's son." Grant hesitated. "I was here last week, and the visit didn't go well. He got agitated when I said I was his son. He doesn't recognize me."

Her mouth twisted in a sad smile. "That happens a lot. He didn't know your brother most of the time either, if it makes you feel any better."

"Really?" Grant pulled back in surprise.

"Yes. Your brother just went with whatever the Colonel called him."

"I don't understand."

"If the Colonel thought your brother was Private First Cla.s.s Andersen, your brother answered to that." She swept her gla.s.ses off her face. "Mr. Barrett just wanted the Colonel to have a calm day. He found reading to him worked better than trying to have a conversation. The Colonel gets agitated when he can't get the words out right. He knows he can't remember things, and it frustrates him. Dementia also makes emotions hard to control." Empathy shone from her eyes. "Try calling him Colonel instead of Dad, and use your first name. I know it hurts that he doesn't remember you, but it isn't his fault. Dad implies you have a relationship, and he'll instantly feel stressed trying to make the connection. Some days you might be surprised, and he might know you, but that's not going to happen often." She paused. "You can't fix this."

Grant accepted her statement as the truth, finally.

"His overall health has deteriorated significantly in the last year." She reached out and touched his forearm. "I'm sorry. Do you want me to have the doctor call you?"

"Yes, please." Grant gave her his cell numbers. "You should change the emergency contact numbers anyway." He gave her Mac's and Hannah's cell numbers as well.

She entered the information into the computer system.

Grant digested her advice on the way down the hall. His father was awake, staring blankly at a mute TV screen hanging from the opposite wall. Cloudy eyes blinked at Grant. "Who are you?"

"h.e.l.lo, Colonel. I'm Grant." He took a deep breath and waited.

"What are you doing here?"

Grant spied the book on the tray. "I'm here to read to you."

His father nodded, still wary, but seemingly satisfied with the response.

Grant walked closer and eased into the seat next to the bed. He picked up the book and started reading aloud. His father settled back and closed his eyes. Calm. Lee had been right. It didn't matter if Dad knew their names. Maybe a lot of things didn't matter.

Two chapters later, after the Colonel fell into a deep sleep, Grant knew exactly what he needed to do. No, not just what he needed to do, what he wanted to do.

He drove back to the motel with a sense of purpose.

The silver Mercedes was parked in front of the unit. Inside, Kate's parents sat at the dining room table with Hannah. Carson sat on her lap. Faith bounced in a baby seat on the floor.

"Uncle Grant." Carson hurled his body across the room.

Grant scooped him off the floor. The boy was shaking. "What's wrong, buddy?"

"They said they're going to take us," he sniffed.

Grant scanned the faces at the table.

Stella Sheridan stood, brushing the wrinkles from her gray slacks. "We thought, since the children currently have no home, we could just take them with us now. It would save everyone time. The sooner they get settled in their new home, the better."

"I don't think so." Grant hugged Carson closer. Tiny fingers fisted in his sweatshirt.

Stella crossed her arms. "The more you let them get attached to you, the harder it will be when you leave, Major."

"That would be true, if I was leaving." Grant shifted Carson to his hip. The boy smelled like gra.s.s and sweat, as if Hannah had taken him outside to run around.

Hannah's head snapped up. "What are you saying?"