“Convenient. Cover-up?” Dace asked.
“Maybe. I have C.T. working his end just in case it’s a mislabeled file or something, but he saw red flags with the missing investigation as well. We don’t even have a responding officer to question. The only thing we have is a date, time, location, and brief description in a police report that was filed by an officer who doesn’t exist. The name belongs to a retired vet…who’s dead. He was never a cop.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Dace asked.
“Good question. I pulled up the scene of the accident and used the data I could grab from my evaluation, combined with the notes on the report, and tried to recreate the accident with simulations, but it doesn’t work. Not even close. What he wrote in that report couldn’t have gone down the way it’s described.”
“We need the investigative report, if there ever was one,” Dace said. “This shit just keeps spinning further and further out of control.”
“Are we looking at a murder then?” Wylie asked.
“I think we’re looking at a lot of shit.” Dace took a seat and looked at each screen on the wall in front of him. “We have Ivy’s attack, a mystery man with a kid, Ivy’s missing dad, Ivy’s dead mom, missing reports, missing people, a phone with Pentagon-worthy security, and a victim who won’t talk.”
“Don’t forget the exchange at the coast Eva’s working on. Cartel? Not cartel?” Wylie added. “We don’t have anything connecting it all, but those black SUVs in both places are enough for me to keep it on the radar.”
“Jesus.” Dace nodded. “And the fucking coast. What the hell is she running from? She had a breakdown last night – bad one – whatever this is, she’s scared shitless.”
“How do we know she’s the one running?” Declan asked.
“Are you serious?”
“As a fucking heart attack,” he replied. “She’s been in town a handful of days and look at all the shit surrounding her. We don’t know where she’s been or what she’s been doing. We can’t forget, keep your enemies closer. What if we’re her enemy?”
“You can’t really believe that Ivy is capable of any of this,” Dace defended her, his voice full of warning.
“I think we’ve learned over the years that nothing is as it seems and trust no one until trust is earned. I want to believe she’s the victim here, and the same girl we all loved like a sister, but man, don’t let your feelings cloud your judgment. She’s the only one on the suspect list right now.”
Dace slammed his fist on the conference room table. “For fuck’s sake, she almost died. Those assholes tried to kill her.”
“But they didn’t.” Luke shrugged. “Sorry, Dace, but Dec’s right.”
“So she took a beating for show? That was a hell of a performance.”
“Maybe. We’ve encountered some deceitful bastards who will go to any length to accomplish their end goal, so – this theory wouldn’t be too far-fetched.” Declan didn’t like riling Dace in this way, but reality checks in their line of work were important. “Let’s also not forget that high crime comes with big enemies, and maybe she was a target, but until we know, we need to tread carefully and leave all emotion out of this.”
“This is bullshit, and you know it.”
“I want to believe that, Brother. Believe me when I say that. But facts are facts, and our enemy might be right upstairs. Our job is to prove her guilt or innocence.”
Dace stood and paced the room. “Fine. Say she’s trouble. Then what?”
Wylie met his brother at the other end of the room and rested a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Then we do what we always do. Figure out what she’s guilty of and bring her to justice. And if she’s innocent in all this and the victim, then we fucking fight for her.”
Dace’s jaw tensed, his eyes looking everywhere but his brothers’ because he knew they were right. Deep down, he fucking knew it. He had to separate personal from business, and she was business right now. As much he wanted his brothers to be wrong, they weren’t. Not until they could prove it, one way or another.
“Fine. But let it be known that I believe she’s the victim, and someone wants her dead. We are going to get justice…and it will be for her. Mark my fucking words.”
CHAPTER 10
“She’s still not taking her pain meds, though I know she could use them,” Carly told Dace. “But she finally gave in and fell asleep a little bit ago. It’s a little fitful, but rest is rest.”
“I don’t get why she won’t take the meds. She’s so tired; you can see it. The pain makes it hard to rest…”
“And that slows the healing process,” Carly confirmed. “She’s sweet, but she’s a stubborn one. Says she doesn’t like how they make her feel. She said they make her loopy.”
“I think she’s afraid to feel loopy and out of control. She’s dealing with a lot of fear.”
Carly guffawed. “Watermark Tower is likely the safest place on earth. You guys have this place tighter than Fort Knox.”
“I wish I could get her to understand that.” Dace walked Carly to the door. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for her the past few days. I think she really enjoys your company.”
“Oh, no need to thank me. It’s been a pleasure to spend time with her. She’s going to get through this, Dace. You hang in there.” She patted him on the back as she exited the apartment. “Oh, hey…if you need me through the night, call me on the landline or come get me. I misplaced my cell phone again. I swear I wasn’t meant for technology.”
“If you let Liam know, he can shut it off in case someone got ahold of it, and we’ll just have him set you up with one of ours. It’s faster and easier than going down to one of the stores or ordering a new one.”
“That would be awesome. I appreciate it. You have a good night.” And Carly left.
Carly had been living in Watermark Tower for several months and served as a personal nurse to Daisy O’Reilly’s grandmother. Originally a nurse in McKenzie Ridge, Carly took a leave of absence when the man she loved and thought she’d spend her life with turned her world upside down in a very bad way. She’d been desperate for a quick change of scenery to clear her head, and since she was a close, trusted friend of the O’Reillys, it was a win, win.
Dace was there when Carly’s world fell apart and saw her heart break. She was kind, giving, and didn’t deserve what happened to her. He was glad Carly was there for Ivy too. It had to be just as healing for Carly as it was Ivy. Perhaps a bond would develop, and Carly could get Ivy talking if Dace couldn’t. That was his hope, anyway.
A moan caught his attention and had him moving in the direction of Ivy’s room. When a guttural scream emerged next, his quick steps turned to a run as he made his way to her. Night terrors. That was the only explanation for what he walked in on. Ivy was clearly still asleep but fully engaged in a physical war with someone or something as she sat up in her bed, blankets tossed about, swinging her arms, and screaming. Bloodcurdling screams. The kind in horror films that nightmares were made of, literally, in Ivy’s case.