CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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Shailyn was back to her regular sleeping habits of getting two hours here and there. It appeared that those four hours she’d managed to attain in Townes’ arms the other night was a one-off. A part of her longed to see if it could happen again, but she didn’t want to be the cause of his lack of rest. She was fairly sure he hadn’t slept with her in his arms. He, too, was running on little sleep as it was.
The sun was slowly rising over the horizon, casting an orange glow over the peaceful water of what she would call a small lake. It certainly didn’t look like a pond, the way Townes described it. She was standing on the deck overlooking the massive body of water on the estate’s immediate northern side, contemplating the various avenues that were in front of her. Honestly, she couldn’t remember a time she watched the sun rise without being behind a window. She was afraid she could get used to this.
One of the U.S. Marshals had mentioned during her ordeal that Moss’ trial had received so much national press coverage, it was doubtful she could ever leave the witness protection program. The FBI once gave a public statistic of twenty to fifty active serial killers in the United States, and that didn’t include the psychopaths who thought it might be fun to try and get their name in the paper by finishing what Moss started or his acolytes who followed him like a god.
Yet this sanctuary Townes had created here made her think such a thing as claiming back her life was eventually possible. In the days spent under his roof, she’d stopped checking her personal items to see if they’d been moved. She didn’t feel the urge to examine every lock in the house to ensure they were secure. She could trust others to keep her safe.
The problem she encountered every time she thought about salvaging what was left of Shailyn Doyle was that every scenario involved keeping Townes in her life.
He had his own personal reasons for taking her out of WITSEC. Moss had become his adversary, and Townes needed to motivate his opponent.
Was she just a means to an end?
Shailyn had never once given thought to being with a man after the agony she suffered under Moss’ hands. Her body was no longer something anyone would want to see, but for Moss or one of his minions. She bore so many scars on her flesh that it was near impossible to recall what she once looked like with fair, unblemished skin.
Was it possible to be loved for who she was on the inside, or was that just a fairytale to make damaged women feel better about themselves?
“Good morning.”
Shailyn startled as she turned to find Brody walking up the wooden steps from the path that led to his open office next to the team room. He was wearing one of those bright, colorful Hawaiian shirts he had a penchant for, but it was the manila folder in his hand that caught her attention the most. She was curious as to the news it might hold. His ability to sneak up on her like that made her realize she was getting too complacent, even for the fortress that Townes had built.
“Good morning.” Shailyn shook her right hand to try and ease the burning generated from the hot liquid that had sloshed over her fingers when she turned so suddenly. She was grateful when Brody stopped by the patio table where some napkins were positioned in an adorable square flower vase. She had a hard time believing Townes had chosen such décor, but he was constantly surprising her. Technically, everything that had happened over the last few days had astounded her. “Thank you.”
Shailyn took the napkins and wrapped it around the white porcelain mug she’d brought outside. The coffee soaked into the white material, causing it to stick. It was better than nothing, and she wasn’t ready to go back inside the house. She wanted to know what it was that he had discovered.
“You’re up early.” Brody’s tone suggested he was aware of her secret in that she didn’t sleep much, but he continued talking before she could address his assumption. “Is Townes in the kitchen yet?”
“No.” Shailyn once more eyed the manila folder in his hand. A familiar unease settled over her at the thought that Brody had some news regarding Moss. “Did you find something that contradicts the DNA results?”
Brody appeared rather shocked by her question. He didn’t miss a beat, though.
“No, not at all.” He hesitated before joining her at the wooden railing. “You know, it would be an anomaly should the body turn out to be anyone other than Moss. DNA is ninety-nine percent accurate when sampled and processed by a certified lab, not to mention the FBI forensic guys.”
“I was a victim of a serial killer,” Shailyn reminded him wryly. It was easy to see that she’d made strides in accepting her past. Her therapist would be very proud she could talk about the former event without having an anxiety attack. She leaned her forearms against the wood and stared out over the calm water. Maybe this place was magic. “I was already in that one percent group when I survived an attack of that nature.”
“I like you,” Brody said with a smile as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the railing. “Look, we’re going at this from every angle in the known universe. I understand that Moss’ intelligence is off the charts. Is it a possibility he somehow paid off some technician to fuck with the results or the sample? Absolutely. Which is why we’re doing deep background checks and interviews on anyone who was in the chain of custody of those DNA samples. Moss also had no siblings we are aware of, so a familial DNA match is out.”
“Why would a sister or brother…” Shailyn let her words trail off as she finally comprehended his meaning. “You considered that maybe the body was that of a close relative.”
“Like I said, we’re not ruling anything out. Our job is to confirm even the slightest possibility that the corpse wasn’t Moss.”
“Brody.” Both he and Shailyn turned at the sound of Townes’ voice. She was used to him being serious, though he tended to be a little more lighthearted around her for obvious reasons. The man standing just outside the patio door wasn’t someone she knew. “I’d like to speak with you in my office.”
“Townes, he was just—”
“Now,” Townes barked, causing his loose strands to fall and conceal half his face. “Shailyn, you have the day to relax. Your parents are scheduled to be here tomorrow at noon, so I’ll have lunch served in.”
And just like that, the patio door was void of his presence.
“I-I’m sorry,” Shailyn said in somewhat disbelief. “He shouldn’t have—”
“His bark is much worse than his bite,” Brody shrugged off, as if this part of Townes appeared more often than it should. “You need to remember something, Shailyn.”
She forced herself to look away from the sliding glass doors. Brody didn’t appear at all bothered with the way Townes had addressed him. In fact, there was a smile on his face as if he were a kid about to enter an arcade with a pocket full of quarters.
“Calvert has spent the last four months tracking Moss down. I’m not talking about eight-hour days, either. This entire team has lived and breathed this investigation, but not like him.” Brody tapped the manila folder on his leg as if he were second guessing finishing his thought. “I didn’t need special software or a fancy degree from MIT to connect the dots, Shailyn. Calvert didn’t build this estate with all the state of the art security measures for SSI.”
Brody’s name resounded through the walls of the house, traveling out the open glass door. He only laughed and shook his head, turning on those leather flip-flops of his as he crossed the threshold.
He’d left her with some questions that only Townes could answer.
Why had he come back to Florida? He had no family here. He could have established SSI in Washington D.C. or some other major city in the U.S.
Was Brody suggesting it was because of her? If so, Townes was a Special Chief Deputy U.S. Marshal. He easily could have come for her at any time over the years. Yet he hadn’t.
“When was the last time you had a mani-pedi?”
Shailyn was caught off guard once again by Camryn’s sudden presence. The gorgeous actress was standing in the exact spot her brother had just vacated. Her natural beauty was rather intimidating in person.
“Um, I’m not sure I ever had one from a professional,” Shailyn answered honestly, thinking back to the days when she lived a normal life. She then peered at the fingernails of her right hand and closed them tight into her palm. There really wasn’t anything there to work with. “I don’t think—”
“Oh, don’t bail on me now,” Camryn pleaded, closing the distance between them. She grabbed ahold of Shailyn’s wrist and guided her toward the door. “I might not be as good as a professional in a nail salon, but I’m not too shabby. Ash had to go into the office, Cailyn is meeting some other reporter in town to work on an article, Remy went to work at the advertising agency, and Brett is on some conference call with the superintendent of her school and the school board. I need something to do. Besides, this will be fun. We can do some online Christmas shopping while we soak our feet. I’ve got a platinum card with no limit just waiting to be abused.”
Camryn was a force to be reckoned with and it was obvious that Shailyn wasn’t going to be able to say no. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. She was seeing her parents for the first time in years. She would like to make a good impression, and that included them not concentrating on the few scars visible on the back of her hands. The majority were on her arms, legs, and torso. Still, she would feel better conveying an appealing facade.
Shailyn’s acquiescence had nothing to do with the fact that they would be inside the house, close to Townes’ office. She couldn’t help but sigh in resignation upon finding his office door closed. Just what had been in that folder Brody had in his hand? Her curiosity was bound to get the best of her, but she would be patient.
After all, she’d waited this long for her life to change. What was a few more hours?
*
His face was still splashed across every news channel. It was rather satisfying to know he was of such importance in the public’s eye. Unfortunately, it was only a matter of time before something remotely newsworthy happened that would replace him, like some moron dropping a krugerrand in the pail of some grocery store Santa.
It was then that he would set his plan in motion.
He pushed off the rotting planks of the wooden porch with his shoe to set his rocking chair in motion. He was but a half mile from where his death had taken place. There was something very satisfying about being so close to the very site of his supposed demise.
Was Calvert starting to believe he was free of their past?
It would only be then that the fun would truly begin.