He’d been too arrogant, assumed no one would have a clue as to who his targets were or why he’d chosen them. But he hadn’t counted on Ava Jackson being a part of the plan. How could he? He hadn’t known she existed when he started putting everything together five years ago. He’d been so careful. Meticulous in his research and planning. How had Paul Jackson managed to keep his daughter a secret for so long?
It didn’t matter. What mattered now was that he knew about her, and the new plan would have to suffice. As long as she wound up dead—and suffered greatly while dying—in the end, that’s all he was interested in.
However, he would like to know if his aunt would survive. He’d seen the blood on her before they tackled her. At least she’d managed to do as he’d instructed and gotten rid of the evidence.
But that blood . . . it was a lot. Then they’d cuffed her before placing her on a stretcher and sliding her into the ambulance.
He hoped she would recover. She was the only one left in this world that he cared about. She was loyal and loved him without reservation.
Just like his mother and sisters had.
Grief choked him. Even now he could picture their absolute terror just before the bullets took their lives. And his mother . . . his gentle, kind, loving mother. How she’d tried to protect him—to protect them all.
While he’d watched from his hiding place. Unable to move, to breathe, to save them. He’d started to leave his hiding place, and only the sheer panic in her eyes when she realized what he’d planned had kept him still. And he’d watched them die.
He’d been unable to save them, but he could finally get them justice.
Soon.
He raised the binoculars once more, then headed to the vehicle he’d stolen that morning. He’d watched everything play out on his phone, thanks to the hidden cameras in the house. He’d known it was a trap the minute he saw the car heading up the drive. And then Ava had climbed out and walked up his front porch steps. After all he’d done to get to her, she’d come to him.
And he’d been powerless to do anything about it.
Unable to get his aunt out in time, he’d only been able to call her and warn her to play along.
And it might have gotten her killed.
Time to find out.
And he still had the kid to deal with.
What was the saying? Two birds with one stone?
Yes. Two birds. Or three or four.
Once again, Ava found herself in the hospital parking lot. She pulled her phone out. “Are you sure we have time to watch it?”
“It’ll take them a few minutes to get Frank stable,” he said. “They won’t let us see him before then. And we’ve waited this long to talk to Mickey, we can wait a little longer. You pull up the video while I send a text to Sarah.” He paused. “Speaking of texts, you never once texted me while you were in the house. And you didn’t call me and leave your phone on so I could listen in.”
She gaped. “You were serious?”
He scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Of course I was serious.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“I was terrified for you, Ava.”
“Is that how you came to be there?”
He grimaced. Then shrugged. “Sarah kicked me out. She said I was driving her crazy with my pacing and muttering and constant phone checking. When Dad was finally stable, she practically shoved me out the door and told me to go find you.”
“So you did.”
“I did.”
She reached up to stroke his cheek, noting he needed a shave. “I’m glad you did.”
His eyes darkened, and she dropped her hand, then looked away, not ready to admit her growing feelings for the man. But she’d admit her teenage crush was nothing like her adult one. Ava could feel his gaze on her for a long moment before he turned his attention back to his phone.
After he finished his text, he looked at her. “All right, I’m ready when you are.”
Ava held the phone so he could see it and tapped play.
John had sent her the part where her father was at the rail—just before he went over. The whole video was three minutes total.
He was standing there, looking out to sea.
“It’s hard to tell if he has any scuba equipment on him,” Ava said. “And an air tank would be too bulky.”
“But a small one would fit right in that backpack he’s got on his shoulder. Maybe even two or three of them. The backpack is a hiking bag. It’s big. And waterproof, if I had to guess.”
“That might give him enough air to get to shore. With flippers, he could go pretty fast.”
“And a wetsuit underneath that coat would help keep him warm.”
“They found his coat,” she said. “The water was around sixty-eight degrees. Cold—and uncomfortable—but not cold enough to kill him.”
People walked past him on the deck. It wasn’t terribly crowded, but enough so that someone occasionally blocked her view of him.
And then he was falling overboard. People screamed, pointing, some pulling out their phones and racing to the railing to shoot video or snap pictures.
“Go back,” Caden said.
She glanced up, saw his brow furrowed, and slid her finger across the screen to rewind the footage. “What did you see?”
“I’m not sure. We may have to throw it up on a bigger screen, but let it play again.”
She did as he asked.
“Stop. There.”
She tapped the screen. “What?”
“Rewind once more.”
Hanging on to her patience, she did so and hit play. What was he seeing?
Caden tapped the screen this time. “There. The guy that walked behind him and kind of bumped his backpack. I think I saw his hand slip something into one of the pockets on the side.”
“What? Really?” She watched again, this time in slow motion. When it got to the part Caden was talking about, she gasped. “He did. What do you think it was?”
He met her gaze. “I think it was a tracker and that’s how he followed your father from Japan.”
Ava processed that idea. “You think it could have survived being in the water that long?”
“Sure. There are waterproof trackers.”
“Right.” She knew that, it was just . . . “Okay, that makes sense.” She shook her head. “Unbelievable.” A lump formed in her throat and she closed her eyes. “But Nicolai wouldn’t have known my dad was going over. Unless he pushed him.”
“No, watch again. He’s kind of bumped from behind by another guy walking past, but he went over the rail under his own steam.” He pointed. “There. His hands were on the rail and he kind of just hauled himself over.”
“He’s alive,” she whispered. “I don’t really care how he wound up in the water. What matters is, he faked his death and I bought it.”
“I thought we cleared that up. You didn’t buy it,” Caden said.
“Yes. And no. But mostly yes. I didn’t want to believe he was truly gone, of course, but I think I was starting to accept that he was. Until the whole weird password thing. I couldn’t figure out why he’d change it when he was so adamant that I memorize the sequence of when he’d change it and how.”