CHAPTER TWENTY
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“How sure are you that this plan of yours will work?”
Townes didn’t reply to Carter Doyle’s question right away as he mulled over the best way to answer. He casually peered out the glass window that was basically an entire wall facing the ocean. He’d known which location to drive to based on the security detail he’d put on Shailyn’s parents the moment Moss escaped federal prison.
“Carter, he’s doing everything he—”
“This is our only daughter, Pam!” Carter had raised his voice to get his point across, but all it did was prove to Townes that the doctor had let emotion cloud his judgment. “He took her out of WITSEC where she was safe. He has placed her life in even more danger than before, if that’s even possible.”
“I have no doubt that Moss would have eventually discovered Shailyn’s new identity and location. It was only a matter of time. I took every step necessary to ensure her safety.”
Townes had already gone over his reasoning with the Doyles as to why he’d manufactured Shailyn’s death and moved her to a new location with increased security. He would do so again and again if it meant he could get them on board with what needed to be done.
He faced Carter and Pam, addressing the one topic they had all avoided.
“I understand that I’m not your first choice for Shailyn. But you need to understand that we love each other, and I would lay down my life for her.” Townes’ phone vibrated, but he ignored whatever text had come through as he explained in detail what would happen after this investigation was closed…either with Moss behind bars awaiting the death penalty after being convicted of his most recent string of crimes…or dead. “This is our best chance to capture Moss. I’m asking on Shailyn’s behalf that you continue to plan her funeral and have it in two days’ time so that we all have the opportunity to live out our lives without Moss’ presence. Should things go according to plan, it’s only fair you understand that I intend to ask Shailyn for her hand in marriage.”
Townes wasn’t surprised when Carter turned away in frustration, but he was taken aback when Pam stood from her seat on the couch. She crossed the tiled floor and reached for his hands, which he held out for her to grasp.
“Townes, it’s not that we don’t believe you’re good enough for Shailyn. We thought it best at the time that you stay away from her, because I don’t doubt that she would never have entered the witness protection program if you hadn’t. She loved you back then, and I know that love hasn’t faded.” Pam swallowed, giving herself time to compose herself as tears filled her eyes. “One day, when you have children, you’ll understand just how hard it was for us to see her go away. She was—is—our world. All we’ve ever wanted was her happiness. You give that to her, just as you have proven what lengths you’ve gone to in order to bring her back to all of us. You have our blessing to marry our daughter, Townes.”
This wasn’t the conversation Townes had intended to have, but he was a firm believer in utilizing the paths provided. Dr. Doyle was rubbing the back of his neck in annoyance. He clearly wasn’t ready to have this discussion.
“Calvert, do you recall how we met?”
Townes vividly remembered how the two of them had crossed paths.
“The life you saved was a twenty-two-year-old boy who’d gotten mixed up with the wrong group of people. One percenters aren’t known for being the most law-abiding group, but there were reasons I ran with that crowd after I finished serving my country.” Townes wouldn’t defend his actions to a civilian, but he would respect the father of the woman he intended to marry. He and Shailyn hadn’t discussed their future in detail, but it was a given. “I respect everyone’s choice to choose their own way of life and the reasons behind their decisions are their own. No one is better than anyone else because they were born to privilege. Some of those very men you look down your nose at are the very ones risking their lives to ensure your daughter’s safety.”
“You think I don’t grasp the risk you and your men are taking for Shailyn?” Carter walked to the wet bar and poured himself a double scotch. It had always been his preferred drink, though it was rather early in the day to be pouring that heavy. Townes didn’t begrudge him the alcohol, though. He was technically getting ready to bury his daughter, and he certainly needed to act the part. “You seem to forget that I helped that young man without question.”
Carter had already called in that chip when it came time to protect his daughter. The good doctor finally turned to face Townes, but there wasn’t disdain written across his features the way he’d assumed. There was only a helplessness that he could relate too.
“Our daughter means more to us than anything else in this world, Calvert.” Dr. Doyle raised his glass in salute, but he downed the liquid for courage against the days ahead. “Her happiness means our happiness.”
Townes would take that as Carter’s blessing. With that out of the way, a few more details were discussed that would be needed in order to pull off the funeral. Brody would take care of the majority of the responsibilities as far as making arrangements with the funeral home. There could be no mistakes at this point.
Another thirty or so minutes passed before he was able to leave the premises without bloodshed. He’d missed two calls from Brody and one from Keane. A couple texts summed up what Brody wanted to convey, but Keane’s was rather vague.
“What have you got?” Townes asked as he opened his car door. The modest sedan had been courtesy of the U.S. Marshals Service, along with a title that served his purpose when needed. He did his job to the best of his ability, but the reasoning behind such a position was because of one woman. “And make it brief. I’m about to meet with Agent Gordon.”
“Lucas Grove is dead.”
Townes had just pressed the ignition button when the words penetrated his conscious thoughts. He took a moment to think through what this meant and came to the conclusion Moss had to have had a valid reason for going to such lengths.
“How, where, and when?”
Townes rolled down the window on the driver’s side door to get some fresh air. It was stifling hot with this black leather interior. He looked in the rearview mirror to see the security detail assigned to the Doyles.
“Grove’s throat was slit.” Keane was brief and to the point. “The word Caroline was written in blood on the hardwood floor next to his body.”
It was highly doubtful Grove had written his former fiancée’s name while he was bleeding out.
“Moss is cleaning up house.”
That could only mean that they were getting close to finding out who murdered Caroline Marinovic. There was no doubt that Moss was involved, even at the young age of twelve. Something occurred to Townes just then. What if Moss’ brother had been involved?
“Why not eliminate Grove when Moss left him in the Everglades? Why not wrap up loose ends then?”
“Because Moss was only delaying him until he could manage the task himself,” Townes surmised, a little bit of the puzzle falling into place. He shifted the gear into reverse, slowly backing out of the driveway. “Tear apart Grove’s house, his classroom, and anywhere else he spent his time. See if there is any evidence to support Moss was involved.”
A twelve-year-old boy with the high intelligence Moss exhibited could have easily conned an adult male into aiding and abetting him or them. Caroline Marinovic had been the start of Moss’ sick and twisted vocation. The question remained…what had she done to trigger his malevolent thoughts, causing them to become reality?
“I’ll be in touch.”
Townes disconnected the line and didn’t bother to connect his Bluetooth in the vehicle to reach Brody.
“I’m already on it,” Brody exclaimed, his voice all but drifting out the window as Townes shifted the sedan into drive. He had around a thirty-minute trip into the city. “The camera access of the street Grove lived on doesn’t have enough coverage of the backyards. I’ll pick through some satellite feeds, but I think I may have figured out where Moss went after leaving the secondary cabin location.”
“Where?” Townes was more than willing to change his plans should Brody come up with a valid location on Moss’ current whereabouts.
“I directed Royce over to Moss’ childhood farm. After doing some digging into the real estate there, I discovered the neighbor who lived on that same rural route had died a couple of years back. The property is in foreclosure and has basically been left abandoned.”
Townes had security details on numerous people who Moss might reach out to under this type of law enforcement pressure, as well as places he might want to revisit. His childhood home had been sold after his mother’s passing to a family of three. The local sheriff had scheduled regular patrols through the area, but it wasn’t in Moss’ nature to target families needlessly. Besides, he wouldn’t return there and potentially expose himself without reason.
A rundown home that was in foreclosure, though? Another knot started to unravel. Had Moss’ brother used that dwelling to have a roof over his head after the family land was sold?
“I figured it was worth a shot.” Brody had made the right call directing Royce there instead of Coen or Sawyer, both of whom were busy setting up the operation at the graveyard. “I take it you’re done talking to the Doyles?”
“Yes. It went better than expected.”
Townes held his cell between his ear and shoulder as he pressed the button that would roll up the window. The air had finally kicked on and was creating a comfortable atmosphere inside the sedan. He pulled the car to a stop at the intersection, switching his turn signal on to indicate a left-hand turn.
“I’m heading toward—”
The sudden and deafening boom that ricocheted through Townes’ ears was nothing compared to the jarring impact his body suffered from the collision of another oncoming vehicle from behind. The back and side windows imploded all at once, showering him with miniscule shards of safety glass. His neck snapped back with the force from the blow.
There was no reaction time. It was all impact.
Gravity and energy had taken over as their way in the world of physics.
His face took the blunt force of the airbag when his body jerked forward and the white powdered material exploded from the steering wheel. The meeting of metal on metal had dealt the blow that was entirely predictable. The seatbelt barred his body from flying through the windshield, but the safety harness wasn’t capable of preventing the darkness from taking over.