CHAPTER SEVEN
‡
“It’s getting late. Why don’t you head over to the main house? I’ll let you know if we receive word from the team.”
Shailyn continued to chew on her thumbnail, her success in kicking the disgusting habit crumbling as the afternoon progressed. What if Moss had in fact killed himself? What would happen then? Would she go back into WITSEC because of the other psychopathic sycophants Moss had waiting in the wings to fulfill his demented destiny or could she finally reclaim her life and live in peace?
There would be no answers to those questions until they had confirmation that Moss was well and truly gone from this world. It was very likely that Moss was merely using his own exact gambit to reveal theirs as a sham.
“Shailyn?”
She looked away from one of the computer monitors displaying an online newsfeed from one of the local stations broadcasting live from the scene of a massive explosion in a remote section of a secluded area. Brody was regarding her with a peaked level of concern, but he didn’t know that she was an insomniac. She couldn’t just go to sleep like everyone else. What he could understand was her fervent need to confirm Moss’ death.
“I’m fine,” Shailyn replied with a small smile of reassurance offered up to ease his concern. The bright colors of his Hawaiian shirt were out of place in a situation like this, but she’d been told by Remy that it was a staple of his everyday wardrobe. The woman was clearly in love with the man despite the floral shirts, and vice versa. Shailyn and Remy had been introduced shortly after her arrival. It had been nice to have some female company that wasn’t some kind of hard-nosed federal agent. It wouldn’t surprise her if that was short-lived. She was used to leaving people behind with little to no warning. “Do you believe that Moss took his own life? The monster was in love with himself.”
Brody didn’t reply to her question right away. Instead, he focused on some satellite images that didn’t appear to be in real time. It was evident that the highly-detailed photographs were of the same area prior to the explosion, but he kept swapping back and forth between those and real-time images.
She quickly glanced up to the main overhead monitor displaying the smoldering cabin that had clearly burnt to the ground. The visual wasn’t the best given the distance, but it was sharp enough to convey the impression that there was nothing left but ashes on the ground at the site of where an old swamper’s cabin had been.
“I believe Moss is highly intelligent, and we can’t bank on any results until the DNA from whatever body found onsite is matched to what we have on file for Moss.” Brody clicked through some more images as he sipped coffee out of a white porcelain mug. His actions were that of a man settling in for a long night. “Unfortunately, that could take days to confirm.”
“What are you doing?”
Shailyn leaned in close as she wrapped her arms around her waist. She studied the monitor, still not sure of what Brody could possibly be looking for. He finally pointed to the images that seemed to be stacking up on top of each other as he continued to click through them.
“These pictures were taken by a reconnaissance aircraft a couple of hours before the explosion. We covered the entire area over the past few days. I’m looking through each picture we have of that same area to see if Moss appears on any of them. Actually, I’m searching for anyone who had been in the vicinity of the cabin.” Brody set his mug down on what looked to be some kind of new-aged coaster. There was a cord connecting the metal disc to one of the monitors. This place was full of weird gadgets, but her interest lay elsewhere. “It would be an easier way to prove Moss wasn’t inside the structure when the explosion occurred.”
The door to the outbuilding opened to reveal Remy and Brettany. It had been so nice to see her friend from her childhood, but they hadn’t had enough time to talk after being told of Moss’ phone call to Townes. There wasn’t much Shailyn could say in her defense that Moss had chosen to bring Brett into this sick and twisted game he was still playing with all their lives.
“Hey,” Brett greeted softly, slipping farther into Brody’s domain. There were computer monitors covering every square inch of what looked to be a custom designed desk. It was hard for Shailyn to tear her eyes away from the images Brody was painstakingly taking his time combing through in his quest to spot Moss. “We brought you something to eat.”
“Oh, I’m not—”
All three of them turned to give her disbelieving and stern looks at her most recent attempt at denying sustenance. Yes, she was already on the thin side…but living in constant fear had a way of doing that to a person. Remy held up a tray that appeared to be two servings of soup and an assortment of sandwiches. It was quite odd for her to have someone concerned with whether or not she ate dinner. She’d been on her own for a very long time.
“Thank you,” Shailyn murmured, taking a seat in one of the rolling chairs and adjusting the scarf she’d tied around her neck. It was odd that there was a small Christmas tree on a table near the back of the room. Nothing that had occurred lately coincided with the spirit of Christmas. “It smells delicious.”
The weather in Florida was too hot and humid for her to wear her standard turtleneck in an attempt to cover her scars. She had quite a few of them that were impossible to hide otherwise, so she compromised with a semi-opaque white scarf. There were times over the years where she’d had to make such purchases, but she had learned early on to make sure the fabric was soft. The nerve damage made it hard to tolerate any other type of material that would chafe.
The same went for sleeves on the blouses or other tops she owned. She always wore long sleeves, and today was no different than any other day. It was rather easy to do considering she was almost always in air-conditioned buildings. The white shirt she currently wore lay nicely over her collarbone, almost meeting the matching scarf so that no skin could be visible.
“Is there anything else we can get you?” Brett asked, sharing a look of concern with Remy. Once again, Shailyn found it odd that she had to justify her mental and physical health. “You’ve had a really long night and day. You must be exhausted by now.”
“Honestly, I’m not tired.” Shailyn indicated that Brett and Remy should both join her. Talking to them might keep her from finding a vehicle and driving out to the area where Townes and the rest of his team had gone for confirmation regarding Moss’ death. Sitting here and doing nothing had her itching to do anything useful. “How are your parents?”
“Let’s just say that they’re not happy that I’m here instead of back in Colorado where they can keep an eye on me,” Brett replied with half-smile and a shrug.
Shailyn was wise enough not to ask about the past few weeks Brett had endured regarding the loss of not one, but two friends who’d gotten caught up in an affair gone wrong. It hadn’t helped to brighten their reunion when Moss had slipped his slithering hand into the mix all because Shailyn and Brett had once been close childhood friends.
In the end, all this destruction fell at Shailyn’s damaged feet. Moss had left a trail of bodies for her to follow.
Brett and Remy carried the disjointed conversation while Brody continued to work and Shailyn thought over the last thirty-six or so hours. She had never expected to set eyes on Townes Calvert again, let alone be staying under his roof as if they were long lost friends.
He wasn’t anything like the man she’d met and become infatuated with years ago. He’d become somewhat mysterious. There were additional layers to his personality that shined through the house he’d built on acres and acres of land that offered a peaceful existence dressed up as an armed fortress. It was unlike the simple existence they’d both experienced earlier in their lives.
Shailyn found herself wanting to know more about the man he’d become, but she’d had to remind herself that this stay was only temporary. Whether or not Moss was truly discovered dead among the ruins of that cabin, her future most likely held the same monotonous routine as it had before in WITSEC—living under an assumed name in a random town chosen by the good folks within the program. She would do well to remember that her life was not her own.
“This could all be over soon.” Brett was so optimistic in her statement. Shailyn didn’t have the heart to tell her it really didn’t matter if Moss was dead or not. Nothing really changed…did it? “You can have your life back, Shailyn.”
“Exactly how does that happen?” Shailyn asked warily, instantly wishing she’d remained silent. Asking questions no one knew the answer to would get them nowhere.
Shailyn and Brody shared a look that had her accepting her fate. There would be no friendships started here that would last, nor would there be old ones renewed. She couldn’t allow herself to know the man on the white horse. It didn’t matter that the dragon was slain. The end result would be the same. She would continue her existence alone.
“It depends.” Brody must have finished searching through the various images the recon flight had provided him, because he cleared them off the monitor. The other online news channel still showed the burning embers under artificial light brought in by the fire marshals or forensics. He turned on his stool and met her accepting gaze. “Shailyn might do well to consider staying in the WITSEC program, thus protecting herself from wannabes or those simply looking to finish what Moss started.”
“You mean she wouldn’t get her life back?” Remy was already shaking her head in disagreement with that version of the story. The pretty blonde was still wearing the business suit she’d had on earlier. She was straightening out her lapels as if she were ready to do battle. Shailyn experienced a sadness that the two of them most likely wouldn’t become friends. “That makes no sense. The threat is neutralized. What are the chances that some other unrelated whackjob would even venture getting close to Shailyn? Besides, you said that would be one consideration. That would mean she could reclaim the life that’s been taken from her.”
“What kind of life would she have as Shailyn Doyle, though?” Brett asked skeptically, scrunching her nose as she listed possible scenarios. “The media would hound her relentlessly for months, looking for any kind of angle on an old story. Unless that is beneficial to the process of putting this whole thing behind her. I mean, no one would dare go near her if she’s being monitored twenty-four-seven.”
Shailyn was only too happy to lean back in her chair and allow them to discuss her future as if she wasn’t there. It prevented her from having to answer. Not to mention that she didn’t want to reply, because she was still too afraid of believing that the monster who’d dragged her into the darkness filled with nothing but pain could actually be gone from this earth without so much as a thunderclap.
It was sad, in a way. Not even Shepherd Moss’ death could erase the scars he’d left behind on people’s lives.
Shailyn would forever carry with her his mark of evil.
*
Darkness surrounded him, but all he had to do now was look for the light.
Shailyn would be waiting for him.