Aftershocks (10 page)

She stepped away, stalling by approaching the sliding door into the shack. It was the only thing she could call it. The weathered wooden walls had been warped by the ocean air, and the tin roof, while not rusted, still didn’t quite meet the walls in places. She shuddered to think what might crawl inside. The whole place could fit into the bathroom of the Stones’ summer cottage at the Cape. Twice.

Not relevant.
She peered through the door, surprised. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” She wasn’t joking. A heavy wooden table centered the left side, where the kitchen counter and small refrigerator were, while a narrow, almost-double bed sat against the far wall, covered in a quilt she recognized. It was a mirror of her own, made by her mother the summer he turned sixteen. A lump formed in her throat and she tightened her arms around herself.

“You don’t seem like someone who appreciates bush-beating.” She turned back to find him leaning against the rail, watching her, his beer bottle back in hand.

“Nope.”

“So you probably want me to tell you why I’m here.”

He shrugged and lifted the bottle to his mouth. For the first time, Zoe let herself fully register his presence. He was tall, bleached blond, wearing ragged clothes, the quintessential beach bum. But appearance wasn’t presence. Looking slightly deeper showed a body too well-developed for someone who hung out all day, even for someone who surfed or ran on the beach or played sand volleyball. And deeper than that was the waiting, watching, training that made him dangerous.

Made him exactly what she needed. What she’d always needed.

Crap
. She didn’t mean that. Maybe she’d had a need for Grant-the-man eight, ten years ago. Now it was just a need for Grant-the-mercenary. It was a job. She still loved Kell. Her heart turned itself inside out with missing him whenever she thought his name. He was the reason she was here. The reason she had to try to find the totems and turn them in, so everyone could just leave her alone.

She realized he hadn’t answered her and tuned back in to the present. He saw the shift and finally spoke.

“I know why you’re here.”

She lifted her right eyebrow, and he curled one side of his mouth up. The crooked grin was familiar and tempting. She almost relaxed enough to step forward and kiss him. Horror followed, so cold and intense it was several seconds before she was sure she hadn’t actually done so.

This was such a mistake.

“My mother sent me press clippings,” he told her, seemingly oblivious to what had just happened. “Congratulations on your engagement, by the way. And your business is doing well.”

He was fishing. She responded anyway. She’d have to be completely open with him or he’d never help her. The irony was like a poker in her belly.

“I broke the engagement and sold my business. If you know why I’m here, you probably know why I did that.”

He didn’t look surprised, only nodded approvingly. “You were separating yourself from people who could be used to manipulate you.”

“That wasn’t quite how I was thinking of it, but essentially, yes.”

“So what’s your plan?”

She shifted her weight and Grant pushed away from the rail.

“Sorry, let’s go inside. I only have one chair out here.”

Zoe followed him through the sliding door and took the seat he offered at the table. He detoured past the refrigerator before sitting in the matching wooden chair, offering her a can of cream soda.

“I didn’t know if you still drank it,” he said.

“I don’t.” She popped the top and sipped, unable to help the grin that followed. “I’m not sure why, now. Thank you.” Then she frowned. “You knew I was coming?” He hated cream soda.

“I knew what my mother planned. She didn’t tell me, but she’s not that sneaky. She told me I should help you, and I said I would if you asked for it.”

“She sent me a letter. You know, like those Christmas letters people send, all chatty and recapping the year?”

He shrugged, clearly not a recipient of such letters.

“Anyway, she told me what you’ve been doing and included your address.” Her lips twitched. “She sent it via FedEx.”

He rolled his eyes. “She sends me faxes.”

“I’m glad she did it, because you’re the only one I know who could maybe help me get out of this.” She told him everything that had happened—Henricksen’s visit and attempts to stay on top of things, despite his tied hands, the calls from Freddie, the guy from the cab who gave her the photos.

“What was in them?”

She took a deep breath. This was the hard part. “Me. My employees. My parents.” She swallowed, her throat dry, and took a swig of the soda. It didn’t help. “My…ex-fianc
é
and his parents. And his thirteen-year-old sister.”

“Shit.” Grant rubbed a hand over his face before fingering his scarred ear. “I thought for sure they’d want you.”

Another mouthful of soda did nothing to ease her nausea. “I’m hoping they still do. The note with the pictures told me to get the totems and rejoin the ‘family.’ ” She gagged and gripped the back of her neck, closing her eyes as if that would hold off the flashes of memory. Freddie brushing her hair. Pat reading her the old, brutal fairy tales and laughing when she cried. The way his people would touch and cuddle her.

Grant’s hand rested against her back, warm between her shoulder blades. It anchored her in the now, and the flashes slowly faded.

“What was the trigger?” he asked. “What made you leave everything and come here?”

He was good. His insight validated her decision, and one of the million coils of tension slid away. “I had some stupid idea that once I isolated myself and everyone was safe…” She trailed off. “I had no ideas. I have to find the totems, and I texted back to indicate I knew what they wanted and would comply. But I don’t
have
them. Distancing myself from the people who could be targeted was a no-brainer. But then they sent me a real warning.” She swallowed hard again, her eyes on his ear, which he was still rubbing. “They sent me your earlobe.”

His hand immediately came down to the table. “How do you know it was mine?”

She blinked. “I guess I don’t.” Why would they still have it?
How
would they have it? She hadn’t thought about that before. “It doesn’t matter if it was yours or not. It sends the same message.” The horror of that day screamed into her mind. The light, the glistening blood, the screams. The sobs of Grant’s brother, Jordie. She blinked again, and again, rapidly, until the visions faded. “They sent another photo of Olivia. Kell’s little sister. With the word ‘perfection’ across it.”

Grant hissed out a long curse. “They obviously thought that would be enough to send you to them with the totems.”

“They don’t know I don’t have them. And they don’t know me,” she added quietly. Grant’s head jerked up. She kept her gaze steady on him as she said, “They only think they do. I am not the compliant twelve-year-old they abducted, or the terrified thirteen-year-old who escaped them. I’m not doing their bidding, no matter what they try to do to me or anyone else. But I want them to think I am.”

Admiration flashed in Grant’s blue-green eyes. “Have they given you any instructions?”

“Just this.” She reached for her bag on the back of her chair and removed the note that had come with the stack of pictures, handing it to Grant. “And Freddie called my office on Friday. She gave my assistant a cryptic message reminding me what they’d done to you and demanding the key as well as the idols. She also said ‘Our perfect delicacy shan’t attend the reunion should you bring our party favors on time.’ I think the point is that they’ll leave Olivia alone as long as I’m doing what they want.” She rubbed her temples, overwhelmed by how everything just kept piling on. “I hope that’s what she meant, anyway.”

A deep breath helped her focus again. “Henricksen—the FBI agent I told you about?” After Grant nodded, she said, “He’s been reviewing all the old records, everything Pat’s people said about what they were doing. He found something that references a special blood moon being the most powerful to unlock the power of the totems.”

Grant snorted. “Bullshit.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Her bag was still on her lap, and her hand tightened hard enough around the strap to bruise her palm. “Not if Pat believes it.”

He inclined his head. “Good point. So what makes it special?”

“It’s a supermoon—”

“Close to the earth.”

“Right. And fourth in a tetrad, a grouping of eclipses. And the timing corresponds to some religious holy day.” She shook out her hand. “I didn’t pay attention to that part, because the details don’t really matter. That’s all just crap Pat feeds his followers to keep them zealous. He’s going to believe in the timing, though, and the full moon is in less than two weeks.”

“So what’s your plan, and where do I fit into it?”

She flushed. “I don’t exactly have a plan. I don’t know where to start. I was hoping, given your profession, you’d have some ideas.”

“You might not have details figured out, but you have to have some broad goals.”

“Well, yeah. Get the totems, destroy them, prove they’re destroyed so Pat gives up completely and has no need for Olivia or any other thirteen-year-old girl. Then go back to my life.”

Grant’s expression didn’t change, but the feeling in the room did. She realized he’d been holding himself back, treating her with wariness. But instead of sensing it because he stopped, like when white noise gets shut off, she sensed it because it deepened. Grew colder.

“Was this a bad idea?” she asked quietly. “Coming here?”

“No.” He stood and removed a paper-wrapped packet from the small refrigerator. “I’m glad you came to me. I can help.” But he didn’t look at her while he set a cast-iron skillet on the stove and gathered ingredients for pan-fried fish.

Zoe waited in silence, wondering if she should continue the topic or follow his lead. He didn’t say anything or look at her. The tension in the silence reminded her of the last time she’d seen him. He was wrong. Coming here
was
a bad idea. But pushing him would probably make it worse, so she changed the subject.

“How is your mother? She sent me that letter, but didn’t talk about herself much.”

“She’s good.” The tension eased subtly. “Still smoking and pretending it’s a one-time stress thing. Still working at the mill, though she’s been a supervisor for years, so that’s a bit easier on her physically.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of mental stress,” Zoe said.

Grant chuckled. “She says the same thing. Gripes that things were simpler when she was on the floor. But I don’t know,
my
stress level is a lot lower.”

She considered offering to help him cook, but there wasn’t really room, and he dipped, coated, and fried with practiced efficiency.

“Is she seeing anyone?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But she wouldn’t tell me.”

“Because you’d do such a thorough check on them, you could tell her what their favorite food was when they were five?”

She could see his crooked smile in profile, though he still didn’t look at her.

“Pretty much.”

They kept the chatter light, about his mother’s hobbies and Zoe’s family and her web company. He finished with the fish and dumped a bag of lettuce in a bowl, and they ate in silence that was only slightly tense.

“That was pretty fantastic.” Zoe sat back and patted her stomach.

“Thanks. About all I can make.” He waved a hand when she started to rise and gather the dishes. “It can wait.”

“Okay.” She settled back into her chair. His tone told her he was ready to talk business.

“Tell me what you’re really doing here.”

Chapter Five

Zoe’s dinner settled heavily. “I did.”

But Grant shook his head. “Stone’s family has money. Why aren’t you holed up in some high-security compound with all of them?”

The nausea returned, bringing a churning bitterness with it. She leaned to take his plate and set it on hers, adding their silverware. “They’re not like that. I mean, yes, they have money, but no high-security compound or anything. They’re just people.”

He cocked his head. “So they’re vulnerable.”

This time the nausea didn’t just churn. She stood abruptly, hoping her fish would stay down, and carried the dishes to the sink. “My intent is for them not to be. I sent Freddie a return text that I was getting the totems. They won’t do anything as long as they think their threat is working. I sent Henricksen the…package. That was enough for him to say he’ll keep an eye on Olivia and her family, but he can only do so much within the resources of the bureau. So I talked to Olivia’s mom and told her they should hire some security, just in case.”

The air temperature increased and the skin on her legs prickled. She knew Grant was standing behind her now.

“Interesting,” he said.

She turned on the water and stretched for the dish soap to put a couple of inches between them. “What is?”

“You didn’t tell mention telling your fiancé.” He turned and leaned back against the counter so he could watch her, arms folded.