Operation Reunion Page 21

  In what seemed like only a few seconds, Cutter headed for the far left corner of the building with obvious purpose.

  In the beginning, it had been a stretch for Quinn to trust the dog completely, to accept that he would find what they were looking for and warn of any impediments, human or otherwise. But now he knew better, and he followed without hesitation.

  In the end, it seemed almost anticlimactic. Cutter signaled with a single, sharp bark that he’d found something. Quinn ran the last few feet and found Cutter at the entrance to one of the old game alcoves, one that was more walled off than the others, making it almost a private room. The dog was on his feet, his attention riveted on what—or who—was inside that space.

  It was obvious the dog didn’t sense a threat, but Quinn wasn’t quite ready to cede full assessment of the danger to a dog. Yet. Cutter might be smart, as dogs go downright brilliant, but the concept of firearms or even knives as weapons was asking a bit much.

  Now was the time for the flashlight. Quinn pulled it out and set it to spotlight mode, which was a wide, intense beam that could temporarily blind an opponent at night. With the light in his left hand and his sidearm as a precaution in his right, he made the move, leaning around the wall to look into the alcove.

  The light flooded the small space like it was a stage.

  Apparently Cutter had been right about the threat level. The man inside the alcove was huddled against the back wall, staring in apparent shock at the dog in front of him. He had a dark blanket pulled around him, making his pale face stand out even more. He wasn’t moving, but his hands were hidden by the blanket so Quinn stayed wary, although the man seemed pinned in place more by the sight of Cutter than Quinn and the powerful flashlight. Quinn supposed the sudden appearance of a fifty-pound dog could do that, although the guy was looking at Cutter like he’d seen one too many werewolf movies.

  Quinn registered all this in a split second. These were logistical details, the threat of the hidden hands, the lack of movement, the fear of the dog. Important, necessary, but not the overriding fact.

  That was, simply, that they’d found him.

  Because there was no doubt this man huddled in the blanket was Chad Tucker.

  Chapter 31

  “Guard, Cutter. Make a move and he’ll tear your throat out,” Quinn said pleasantly. Cutter growled for effect.

  Kayla smothered a gasp at the threat. She was shaking, knowing she’d be unable to believe what she’d heard come over the small radio until she got inside and saw it for herself. Now that she was there, she wanted to rush forward those last few yards, but both Hayley and Dane were solidly between her and the goal.

  And then Quinn was there, talking into his walkie-talkie.

  “—pole out at the road, see if you can jury-rig some lights. Stay alert—this is a big place. Cutter hasn’t triggered on anything else in here, but he’s pretty focused just now.”

  “Copy,” Rafe’s voice came back.

  Quinn turned to Kayla. “I’ve searched him for weapons, and he’s clean, but I still want you to stay back far enough that he can’t get his hands on you.”

  She started to say if it was her brother he wouldn’t hurt her, but she held it back. “It’s really Chad?”

  “Yes.”

  She shivered again, her emotions a tangled mess of anticipation, excitement, apprehension and a tinge of fear. But overriding them all was the sense that it was finally done, her brother was finally home.

  “Please, I need to see him.”

  “I know. Just don’t let your emotions overrule common sense. We don’t know the truth yet.”

  She nodded.

  “He doesn’t know you’re here. I want to watch his reaction when he sees you. It may tell us something.”

  “All right.”

  She was aware Dane hadn’t said a word, but that was better than having him make some comment that would tear her up even more inside. Still, she couldn’t help glancing at him.

  To her surprise, he softly said, “Go ahead. You’ve been living for this moment for ten years.”

  There was no criticism, no harshness in his tone, and for an instant he was the old Dane, solid, supportive, strong. Impulsively she reached out, took his hand and squeezed it. Then she turned and walked the last few steps to where that blessed dog who had begun all this sat.

  Now that the time was here she was a shaky mess, she thought, pausing to pet the dog instead of hurrying forward. But finally she turned to face the culmination of ten years of faith, loyalty and determination. Quinn turned the bright light on him.

  He was a huddled, dirty mess, with what looked to be a blanket tossed onto the floor beside him. He was unshaven, his hair scraggly and unkempt under a red baseball cap that had also seen better days. He put up a hand against the glare, blocking her view of his face. Kayla saw the hand was dirty. But it wasn’t that that make her heart leap—it was the little finger on that hand, crooked and bent slightly inward, a souvenir from a long ago incident with a car door.

  “Chad,” she whispered, barely able to keep herself from ignoring Quinn’s order to stay back.

  Her first thought was that the computer-aged picture had been startlingly accurate. Her second was that good as it had been, it hadn’t been able to show the haggard, haunted look in her brother’s eyes. He was twenty-eight, but he looked ten years older. Ten long, hard years.

  She realized that while he was lit up as if on a stage, she was still in shadow to him.

  “It’s me,” she said.

  He didn’t answer, just sat with a hand still up to shade his eyes from the brightness of Quinn’s powerful flashlight.

  A second later a bank of lights far above came to life. Rafe, she thought, out at the power pole on the road. They only lit this corner of the spacious building, but it was enough that Quinn shut off the flashlight.

  Chad dropped his hand then, and Kayla saw that although perhaps he didn’t look quite as badly as he had in the flashlight’s harsh beam, he still looked tired, dirty and worn.

  And beaten. Broken. Smaller somehow. It was definitely Chad, although the cocky grin, the swagger, seemed gone. Even the dimple that had so charmed everyone seemed to have morphed into just a long crease in a tired face.

  She wanted to go to him, wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him, but Quinn was close enough to stop her, as was Dane, and she had no doubts that they would.

  She stared at her brother.

  “Are you all right?”

  It was, she supposed, a silly question, but it was the first thing that came to her mind.

  “Is that your damned dog? Get him away from me.”

  For the first words she’d heard him speak in ten years, they certainly lacked something. Kayla looked at Cutter, who was sitting obediently, although he never took his eyes off Chad.

  “If it wasn’t for him, we’d never have found you.”

  “I don’t like the way he’s looking at me.”

  “He won’t hurt you.”

  Chad looked doubtful, but he let it go.

  “Who are these guys?”

  His gaze shifted from Quinn to Dane, and he frowned. Kayla drew back slightly; did he really not recognize Dane?

  Quinn stayed silent but glanced at Dane. She couldn’t see what passed between the two men, but it was Dane who spoke.

  “I’m the guy who tries to clean up the damage you leave behind,” he said.

  Chad’s eyes widened. “Burdette?” He looked Dane up and down. “It sounds like you, but...”

  “Ten years makes a difference. Whether you’re going up—” Dane looked at Chad in a similar fashion “—or down.”

  Chad didn’t even respond to the jab—there was no sign of the old rivalry. Her brother just seemed bewildered.

  “You’re still around?” he asked. “I mean, you two, together?”

  “For now,” Dane said.

  Stung by the reminder Dane’s words made clear, Kayla took a step forward. Dane put a hand on
her arm, stopping her. She shook him off.

  “Can’t you see he’s not a threat?”

  “What I see is the guy who ran and left you to deal with everything by yourself. Even if he is innocent—and I’m not convinced—that makes him a damned son of a bitch in my book.”

  Somehow his words, even though they accused her brother, made her feel better. He was angry, yes, but he was angry on her behalf, and that gave her hope.

  “I am innocent!” Chad burst out. “I swear, Kayla, I didn’t do it. You have to believe me.”

  She turned back to her brother. “Then why did you run?”

  “You know why. You know the police had me tried and convicted and on my way to the death penalty.”

  “All you had to do was tell them the truth, that you happened to get there right after, that’s why your fingerprints were in the wet blood. You got scared and ran, that’s all. Anybody would have.”

  Chad stared at her, looking nonplussed. Then, he smiled. To her discomfort, Kayla noticed a faint trace of his old smugness, the kind he’d shown when he’d done something he knew he’d get away with. But it vanished the moment Dane spoke.

  “Well, well,” Dane said. “If only you’d thought up that story at the time, eh, Chad?”

  Kayla flushed, but she couldn’t deny Chad’s reaction when it was right in front of her. Apparently her neat little story was just that, a story she’d made up to explain what had happened. Chad’s expression made it clear that it wasn’t the truth.

  “I’m hungry,” he said. “I can’t even think I’m so hungry.”

  Tension filled Kayla as she wondered what he would have said if he could think. Would he have gone along with her version of events? Would he have let her believe what obviously wasn’t the truth if only he’d been quick enough to grab at the out she’d given him?

  “You don’t need to think,” Dane said, “just talk. Tell her the truth. She deserves that after standing by you for ten years.”

  “Can’t we go someplace where I could eat?”

  “You buying?” Dane asked, and Chad flushed.

  “We can go someplace else,” Quinn said, the first time he’d spoken since he’d turned the flashlight on for her, “but if we do, I’ll be obligated to call the police first. I don’t feel like explaining why we let a double murder suspect leave the scene where we found him.”

  Chad blinked. “You’re not the police?”

  “No,” Quinn said. “But they can be here quickly enough. So now’s your chance to tell your sister the truth. Maybe your only chance.”

  Kayla had been watching him carefully, looking for any trace of the young, carefree kid she’d known. She found nothing. And for the first time in her life, she wondered how much of Chad’s cheerful bluster had been a facade. Maybe deep down he’d been as uncertain as she had once been, only he’d hidden it so well he’d never developed the real confidence of someone who’d learned their own worth as they built it. He’d never really grown up because he’d always pretended to already be there.

  “I didn’t do it,” Chad said stubbornly. “They pissed me off all the time, but I didn’t kill them.”

  Kayla should have felt vindicated. After all these years of believing just that, she should have been overjoyed at hearing it from Chad’s own mouth. But she wasn’t. Not that she didn’t believe him; she could tell he was telling the truth. But she knew that look, that hangdog expression, all too well. His appearance may have changed, but his expressions had not, and the way he wouldn’t look her in the eye was an old, familiar warning that her brother wasn’t telling the whole truth.

  “You always were a master of omission,” Kayla said. “So what are you leaving out now?”

  Chad seemed surprised. That she’d called him on it? She remembered that brief flash of smugness and realized sadly that he’d been feeling smug because, as always, she had come up with an explanation for him. His little sister would bail him out again, as she always had.

  “Nothing,” he insisted. He glanced at Quinn. “Who the hell is this? And who’s she?” he said, looking past Quinn to Hayley. “Is that their dog? Can’t you get him out of here? He keeps staring at me.”

  Kayla expected Quinn to answer, but he said nothing. Nor did Hayley, although she whispered something to Cutter, something Kayla guessed was a keep doing what he was doing because that’s what he did.

  Apparently this was all Kayla’s now. “They and their organization found you for me,” she said.

  Chad’s eyes flicked to Quinn again. “You’re them? The do-gooders?”

  Dane went very still. Kayla saw him exchange a pointed glance with Quinn. Quinn gave a slight shake of his head. And suddenly Dane was on the offensive.

  “Is that what your partner told you? That Foxworth was looking for you? That they wouldn’t give up until they found you? Why’d you come back if you knew Foxworth was here? Did he tell you to?”

  Chad frowned at the rapid-fire questions and shook his head as if he were having trouble sorting it all out. She understood that; she herself wasn’t sure what Dane was about here.

  “He didn’t say anything about any Foxworth,” Chad said. “Just said she brought in professional help this time, good help, and that I should get back here so we could figure out what to do.”

  “Well, well,” Quinn said, echoing Dane’s earlier comment as he glanced at him. “Nicely done.”

  “Learned a lot,” Dane agreed, seemingly pleased at Quinn’s praise.

  Kayla was feeling a bit confused herself. “Learned what?”

  “That he did just come back, which makes our homeless witness accurate. That he knew you had help this time, and that it was good help. So someone’s reporting to him. Which brings us to the other thing he just admitted.”

  “I didn’t admit anything,” Chad protested.

  “Sure you did,” Dane said. “You admitted there is a partner.”

  Kayla realized she indeed had been a bit slow.

  And that once more, Chad had deceived her, had lied to her face.

  What that made her, she didn’t want to think about.

  Chapter 32

  Kayla was shaken, Dane could see that. He had to remind himself again that seeing to her, comforting her, wasn’t his job anymore. At the same time, that little voice in his brain was telling him it was only human kindness to comfort someone in distress—it didn’t have to be personal.

  Didn’t have to become...intimate.

  Except with Kayla it usually did. He didn’t seem to have any amount of willpower she couldn’t overcome, not by trying, coaxing, wheedling. That wasn’t her way. She simply was who she was, who she always had been, and she was irresistible to him.

  Or had been, until her obsession had finally pushed him over a line he couldn’t cross and still live with himself.

  And now here she was, face-to-face with the object of that obsession, and Dane could easily tell she wasn’t happy with what she was seeing. He didn’t blame her; his own dislike for her brother aside, it had to be a shock to see the wreck he’d become at only twenty-eight. He barely recognized the once-handsome, charming Chad Tucker in the dirty, skinny guy with badly cut, scraggly hair and sunken eyes before them now.

  And he could see in Kayla’s face that she knew he was, even now, still lying to her. Or at least not telling her the whole truth. Hayley had moved to Kayla’s side and whispered something to her. Dane wondered if it had something to do with him because it was he Kayla glanced at for an instant before she turned back to Chad.

  “Who is it?”

  Kayla’s words were flat, emotionless. Chad shifted uncomfortably.

  “Who’s helping you?” she asked again. And then, as the conclusion he’d reached a while ago struck her visibly, she added, horror echoing in her voice, “Is it whoever helped you that night? Helped you get away?”

  Something about the way she said it got through to Chad. “You do think I did it! You think I killed them, don’t you?”

  He was nearl
y shouting, and Cutter let out a warning rumble. Chad drew back, glancing warily at the dog. Good boy, Dane thought.

  “Atta boy,” Hayley said to the dog, loud enough this time for Chad to hear.

  “I’ve spent ten years of my life trying to prove you didn’t,” Kayla shot back at her brother. “With no help from you. Nothing but a note every few months to let me know you were alive.”

  “Or to keep you dancing on his string,” Dane said. “So you’d be focused on looking for him, instead of—”

  He cut off his own words as Kayla’s head snapped around and she looked at him. It would be better if she got to that realization on her own. And she did it so quickly he knew she’d already thought of it before.

  “Instead of thinking about who did do it, if he didn’t?”

  “Yes,” Dane said simply.

  “But why would he do that?”

  “Good question,” Dane said.

  She whirled back on her brother. “Tell me the damn truth, Chad. Or are you so twisted now you can’t?”

  “I didn’t kill them,” he insisted.

  Kayla made a small, harsh sound. Dane knew her so well he could almost follow her thoughts. She’d waited so long to hear that from her brother, and now that she had, it only emphasized what he wasn’t telling her. She seemed to finally realize he’d been playing her all these years.

  She turned away, shaking her head slowly, like a wounded animal. It was more than Dane could take. He glanced at Quinn, but the man merely nodded; apparently he was satisfied with the way things were going. Dane looked back at Chad.

  “Then why did you try to kill your own sister?” Dane demanded.

  Chad gaped at him. “I didn’t! I wouldn’t.”

  He ignored the denial. “For that matter, how did you even know where she lives now?”

  Dane didn’t make a move toward the man, but Chad cringed backward anyway. He seemed shrunken, a long, long way from the swaggering, cocky bully he’d once been. He would have almost felt sorry for him—if not for the thought of Kayla nearly dying in her burning house.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”