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Authors: Melissa_Schroeder

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By the time they drove past Paradise Cove, Conner was
counting the number of Brent’s fingers he would break. Micah didn’t get the car
in park before Conner was out and striding to the door of the resort. Devon and
Micah caught up to him when he started toward the front desk.

“Don’t, I have the room number,” Devon said.

“And?” he asked as he started toward the elevator.

Devon rattled off the number. He was about to take the
stairs when the doors opened. They waited while people got off, then he strode
into the car. The boiling anger he’d felt was now exploding. The minute the
doors opened, he bolted, looking for the room. He banged on the door with his
fist.

“What?”

“Brent Edwards?” he bellowed.

The man on the other side of the door hesitated. “Who wants
to know?”

Conner opened his mouth to answer, but Devon stopped him.

“This is Devon Ross with the Honolulu PD. There is an
emergency with your mother.”

“His mother?” Conner whispered.

Devon shrugged. “From what I read, he is a real mama’s boy.”

“My mother?” The locks flipped and the door opened. The man
he saw standing on the other side of the threshold was a big brute, at least
six foot and extra. He had to weigh close to two hundred and fifty pounds—most
of it muscle.

“What’s wrong with my mother?” he asked.

Conner didn’t answer. All the rage he’d barely controlled
took over. He balled up his fist and hit the bastard in the nose.

“Fucking hell,” Brent yelled as he covered his face with his
hands. Blood came seeping from between his fingers. Before Brent could respond,
Conner hit him in the stomach. But what he hadn’t expected was another man,
even bigger than Brent, coming at him. He tackled him with such force, Conner
and he fell onto the ground.

By the time they pulled them apart, Conner had gotten a few
hits in, but not without receiving a few himself. He was feeling a little dizzy
by the time he stood.

“What the hell is this about?” Brent asked. He was now
holding a towel to his nose.

“Jillian.”

Brent shook his head as if he were trying to clear it. “My
cousin Jillian?”

Conner rolled his shoulders. “Don’t play stupid. You came
here, you sent her threatening mail, played with her brakes.”

He glanced at his friend, then back at him. “When?”

“Now.”

“When?” he asked again.

“Okay, I’ll play along. This past week.”

“There is no way,” Brent said. “We’ve been here this week.”

“Yes, and that’s why I want to know what the fuck your game
is.”

“Let me explain,” his friend said. “My name is Justin. I’m
his husband. We’ve been on our honeymoon.”

For a second, no one said anything. “You’re married?” Conner
asked.

“Yep, we went to DC and did the deed, then we flew out
here,” Brent said. “We’ve been here most of the time, other than a quick trip
to the luau down the road last night.”

Conner couldn’t wrap his head around the situation. He was
so sure it was her cousin, and now he might have an alibi. He had to be lying.
“I know that the attacks have to do with your family.”

“Dude, I seriously didn’t have any idea where Jillian lived.
We stayed out of each other’s way.”

Conner opened his mouth to ask another question, but Justin
stepped in. “Before we answer any more questions, you have to tell us who the
hell you are.”

“My name is Conner Dillon, and I’m staying over at Jillian’s
for the month. She’s a family friend.”

“Is that what they call it?” Micah murmured as he stepped
forward. “My name is Micah Ross. Conner hasn’t explained it properly, so let
me.”

Micah outlined the two incidents quickly. “There was no
indication of a reader fixated on her and there was no one in Conner’s FBI past
who was following him. It all goes back to the family.”

“But your mother calls for money constantly for you,” Devon
said.

Everyone turned to look at him, and he winced. It was then
that Conner realized he might not want these people to know who he was.

“I’ve had access to the records. Your mother has asked
Jillian numerous times for money over the last few months. When she was turned
down, your mother filed papers trying to remove Jillian as trustee.”
 

Brent sighed and sat down at one of the chairs. “My mother
is insane. From the time she was a kid, she resented Jillian’s mother. She was
always brighter, smarter, and my grandmother adored her. When she died,
Grandmother was devastated. I was young, but I remember. My mother, she was
thrilled.”

A cold chill sunk into Conner. “Thrilled.”

He nodded. “She was finally the oldest. She thought she
would control everything. But as much as I think my grandmother was a bitch,
she was a smart one.”

“Your grandmother?”

He nodded. “She knew that the one person who would keep us
all in check would be Jillian. I promise that I haven’t had her go to my cousin
for money in two years.”

“And you didn’t come here to find Jillian?”

“I’ve been a little busy. I do know Mom lost some money.”

His husband snorted. “Please. She didn’t lose the money. She
went gambling. The woman has a gambling habit that she passed on to her son.
Don’t forget she has the drug habit, too.” He looked at Conner. “Oxycontin.”

Brent smiled. “Mom had always been able to keep it under
control. Then Dad left. He was never really there to begin with, but he left,
and Mom hated dealing with the embarrassment of having her husband marrying a
woman younger than her son. Since then, Mom has gotten worse, but I don’t live
in Atlanta anymore. I moved to Seattle to be with Justin and help him run his
shop.”

“Shop?” Micah asked.

“We customize motorcycles.”

“Can you think of anyone who would have it out for her in
the family? You all seem to have a motive, but do you know someone who thinks
she is beneath you.”

“Most of them do. I never did. Truthfully, by the time I was
old enough to know what was going on, she had gone to college. Then she was
completely gone.”

Justin shook his head. “Babe, tell them the truth. Your mother
has the most to gain.”

“What?” Conner asked as the chill that had worried him was
now sending waves of fear through him.

“His mother. She will control everything if Jillian is
killed. And God help the rest of the family at that point.”

Before he could say anything, his phone went off. The number
was from Atlanta.

“Dillon, here,” Conner said.

There was a pause on the other side of the phone. “Yes, sir,
I was trying to get ahold of Ms. Sawyer. She isn’t answering, so I called her
contact, which is a Maura Dillon.”

“Yes, that’s my sister.”

“So I surmised. You really should tell your sister when
things are bad because she is none to happy with you. She apparently didn’t
know about the threats to Ms. Sawyer.”

He was impatient as the worry that had plagued his gut
earlier today grew. “What did you need?”

“I wanted to let you know that it has come to my attention
that her Aunt Blanche knows where she lives. I found out that someone from my
firm told her several months ago.”

“When?”

“About four months ago. I am very sorry for this.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“Ms. Sawyer? I thought she was there in Hawaii.”

He almost threw his phone against the wall. “No. Jesus,
Blanche.”

The man cleared his throat. “That is the problem. No one can
locate her.”

Panic now threaded through his blood as he thought of the
ramifications. “Thank you.”

He hung up as the man continued to talk. He punched
Jillian’s number but all he got was a busy signal.

“Busy. I can’t get ahold of her.”

“The other side of the island is getting hit hard now. The
lines will be down probably,” Micah said.

“We have to go.”

“What does this have to do with my mother?” Brent asked.

“She apparently knows Jillian lives over here. To top it
off, she seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Shit,” Justin said. “She’s probably the one.”

That had Conner stopping. “What makes you say that?”

“She was furious when Brent came out. She tried to beat him
with a poker. As it is, it took seventeen stitches. And that isn’t the first
time.”

Brent sighed. “When she is mad, especially when she’s
drinking, she can be bad.”

Now, the panic was quickly becoming replaced with terror. It
was screaming through him as he tried to keep himself in check. “Fuck. Let’s
go.”

“Wait, I can go with you,” Brent offered.

Conner already had the door open. “I don’t have time.”

“It might be smart, depending on if she is there, Conner.
Brent might get her to calm down,” Micah said.

“Okay, but I’m not waiting.” He grabbed a piece of paper off
the desk and wrote down the address. “Use the GPS and meet us there.”

He rushed through the door then down to the stairwell. He
wasn’t going to bother with the elevator. Conner wanted to believe that he was
overreacting, but as he heard Micah running behind him, he knew he wasn’t. The
something that had been missing now clicked into place. There had always been
something kind of personal about the pictures, something that told him it was a
person who knew her well.

He pushed those worries aside as he ran through the lobby.
He didn’t even stop when he saw the rain. It looked like a fucking monsoon was
hitting, but he didn’t pay attention.

All that mattered was getting back to Jillian. He tried once
more to call and got the same busy signal.

“It’s the storm,” Micah said. “We don’t get many, but when
we do, they can cause a lot of problems.”

Conner nodded but said nothing as he tried to get ahold of
Mick. Busy. He was pushing the buttons to call Jillian again as Micah pulled
out onto Farrington Highway.

“We’ll get there, don’t worry,” Micah said.

Conner prayed that he was right because any other option
wasn’t acceptable.

 

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

Jillian splashed water on her face, trying to wake herself up.
Now that the storm had hit, she was starting to get kind of sleepy. It was
dreary out, and the rain was lashing against the windows. There was an odd kind
of rhythm to it. It made Jillian think of getting her E-reader and cuddling in
bed with it. She wished Conner was there to snuggle with her.

Jillian opened the bathroom door when all the lights went
out.

“Mick?” she called out.

Silence greeted her. Not the pleasant silence that she
sometimes relished. This was odd, almost unsettling. It could be because of the
storm, but something else wasn’t right. Jillian looked out the window and
noticed that the house next door had light. That wasn’t right. They were on the
same line, so if she had lost power because of the storm, they should have too.
A flash of lightening brightened the room. She noticed a pair of shoes on the
other side of the kitchenette table. She knew then it was Mick. Jillian hurried
over to him. He was lying on the floor, his head bleeding and his eyes closed.
She leaned down, but a chilling voice stopped her.

“Hello, Jillian,” Aunt Blanche said.

Jillian slowly turned in the direction of the voice. She
couldn’t see much without the lights, but what she did see scared the
ever-living crap out of her.

Blanche was a woman who always dressed properly, without a
hair out of place, and her clothes were always from the best stores. Now,
though, her hair was a mess, her face dirty, and her clothes looked as if she
had been sleeping in a ditch. Even in the dim light, Jillian could see the
crazed look in her aunt’s blue eyes.
 

“Surprised?”

Jillian tried to inch closer to Mick. A flash of lightening
brightened the room, and Jillian saw the gun in her hand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Jillian stilled, her panic tickling the back of her throat.
She swallowed it. She needed to be smart to get out of here and save Mick.

“It was you.”

Blanche smiled. It was all teeth and almost as lethal as the
weapon she held. “Yes. Always. I am always the one who has to get things done.”

Jillian’s heart was beating so hard she was afraid she might
pass out. She fought the tears that burned the back of her eyes. Showing
Blanche her fear would be a mistake—one that her aunt would use.

“How long have you known where I lived?” Jillian asked. She
was proud of the fact that her voice wavered only slightly.

“Four months.” She shrugged. “Not too hard to bribe someone
for the information.”

“Why?”

“Why?” she asked in a parody of Jillian’s voice. “My whole
life I spent trying to please that bitch. I did everything right. I went to the
right school, pledged to the sorority my mother wanted me to, and I even
married a man I loathed to please that bitch.”

“Grandmother.”

“Jesus, I was glad when she finally died. Truth be told, if
she hadn’t died then, I was ready to do the job.”

“You didn’t kill her.” Jillian knew that was a fact.

“No, the cancer did that. Thank God. She deserved it, you
know. She spent my life making me miserable. Until your slut of a mother ran
off with your father. Oh, my, that pissed the old bitch off, and then,
everything was wonderful. It was as if your mother was no longer alive.”

“Then she wasn’t.”

“She was going to change her will. You know that if Mother
had died then, I was going to get everything. Then you were born. I’m sure that
you don’t know that your bitch of a grandmother kept the announcement of your
birth in her bedside table. As if she cherished you over my son.”

A lump formed in Jillian’s throat. “Did she? It was hard to
tell.”

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