Allison Brennan - Fear No Evil

“Would you try? I think Roger Morton went to school with Trask. Maybe there’s something in those records that will help us find his true identity. At the very least, we can capture the names of everyone who was at Stonebridge the same time as Morton.”

How could she not? She bit her lip, torn.

She’d have to find a way to do both at the same time without Dillon noticing.

JACK CAME INTO KATE’S ROOM an hour later and Dillon looked up from the reports he was reviewing.

“I think I have him,” Dillon began. “Not his identity, but where he went-”

“I have some news,” Jack interrupted solemnly.

“What happened?”

“The cabin was wired-a magnesium burn. Fast and hot, but what really did the damage was the dry wood and accelerant in the corners.”

“My God.” Dillon shook his head. “Was Lucy there?”

“No, another girl, already dead. Unidentified.”

“And Patrick and Connor, are they on their way back?”

“Back to San Diego.” Jack sighed, showing a rare flash of helplessness. “Connor has some burns, but he’ll be fine. Patrick is in a coma.”

“Patrick?” Dillon couldn’t imagine his little brother immobile. “How long has he been out?”

“Three hours. The feds have arranged for transport to the States. He’s alive, but needs surgery.”

Lucy missing, Patrick in a coma, Connor burned. Dillon glanced at Kate, her face pale. She quickly looked the other way, avoiding eye contact.

“And Trask?”

“They’re no closer than we are.” Jack stared at Kate. “Are they?”

Kate shrugged. “They have good people working for them.”

“Few are as good as you,” Jack said. “I think you know where they are.”

Kate spun around in her chair. “If I knew where that bastard was, I’d be there. Do you think I’m holding out on you? Do you think I would jeopardize another innocent girl’s life? Do you-”

Dillon put up his hand. “Jack, that was uncalled-for.”

“Oh?”

“Do you have a basis for accusing Kate of keeping information from us?”

“Instinct.”

Dillon looked from his brother to Kate and back. He was in a room with two people he didn’t really know. The brother he’d shared the womb with, and a woman he’d just met.

“Jack, give me a minute.”

Jack shrugged, left the room.

“You can’t believe that I-”

Dillon put up his hand. “Kate, you are under intense stress right now. You’re acting like Lucy is your own flesh and blood, and that means a lot to me. You’re doing it because of duty and guilt and revenge-because of Trask-but you’re also compassionate. You feel for my sister, and I won’t forget that.”

He took a step toward her, put his hands on her shoulders while she sat in her chair. She swallowed but didn’t take her eyes from his.

“I also believe you will do anything you think is right to stop Trask from hurting Lucy or anyone else. Even if that means lying. To me, to anyone.

“Don’t lie to me, Kate. I’m on your side. We are on the same side. Together we’ll find Lucy. Don’t play the maverick.”

“I’m not,” she said, her voice cracking.

Dillon ached for Kate, but not half as much as he hurt for what Lucy had already endured. What Lucy would suffer in twenty-four hours if they couldn’t locate Trask’s island.

“Trust me, Kate.”

Her blue eyes searched his, full of agony and conflict. Any other time, Dillon would work on her, using his special talent to get her to open up. He wanted to, but he didn’t have the time or energy to worry about Kate’s mental health until after they rescued Lucy. He only needed her to trust him.

Kate diverted her eyes and Dillon suspected that she wanted to tell him something. Instead she said, “Before the colonel came in, you said you found something.”

“Colonel?”

“Your brother. Jack.”

“He’s a colonel? How do you know?”

“The pin on his jacket.”

Dillon had missed it, or if he had seen the pin, it hadn’t registered that Jack had the same rank their father had had when he’d retired.

“Trask?” Kate prompted.

Though he felt like he was being manipulated away from a conversation he needed to have with Kate, his discovery was important.

He showed Kate the files he’d been working with. “Roger Morton’s classmates. I pulled all students in his class, the year before, and the year after. Since Roger and Trask have been together for a long time, and since Roger didn’t attend college, I suspect they were in high school together. Stonebridge Academy is an elite boarding school for the rich and privileged.”

“Logical, but that’s a long way to look back.”

“Not that long. Roger graduated high school in 1989. Eighteen years ago. A few years later, Trask Enterprises formed and a twenty-three-year-old was at its helm. No college education. The FBI couldn’t find a prison or military record on him. Where was he for those five years? Apparently from these files doing absolutely nothing and living at home in Massachusetts. He wouldn’t have had to work; his family is worth tens of millions.”

“So why even start working at Trask Enterprises?” Kate said, beginning to follow Dillon’s line of reasoning.

“Exactly. And who would hire someone with no practical experience to manage a business?”

“Nepotism. Friendship.”

“Right. Roger’s parents are in shipping, old established business. He could have worked for that company, but no. He did nothing until Trask opened up.”

“I guess your theory makes sense, but Roger could have met virtually anyone in those circles. His father could have called in favor after favor to get him a position.”

“Nowhere in these files is there any record of the FBI interviewing Roger’s father except for one notation that an agent went out after Paige Henshaw was killed, and Roger’s father told this agent he’d disowned his son when he started the online pornography business. He also said he didn’t know who Trask was.”

Kate’s eyes widened. “But they didn’t ask the right questions.”

“Namely, who were Roger’s close friends during high school?”

“Makes sense.” The brief excitement on Kate’s face disappeared. “But it does us no good now! We can’t get to Massachusetts and interview the man. We don’t have the time.”

“But Peterson has the contacts. He can get someone out there first thing in the morning.” Dillon picked up a piece of paper where he’d handwritten fifty-six names. “And ask the father if any of these boys were close to his son. Trask’s real identity is unknown to us, therefore he is probably using it to run a legitimate business or any number of things.”

“And if we can get a photograph…” Kate’s voice trailed off. She was the only person alive who had seen Trask in person.

“I’m going to call Quinn Peterson, okay?” Dillon held up his cell phone. The call could be traced, which was why Kate had only used her double-blind IM account to communicate with Peterson.

She nodded slowly, understanding that if Quinn wanted to, he could turn over the records and the feds could burst in and arrest her.

“I trust him,” she said.

Dillon left the room since the cell phone couldn’t pick up a reception inside. The night was cold and he pulled his jacket around him. He walked to the vista where he and Jack had spoken earlier. He didn’t know where his brother had since gone.

The reception was mediocre. “Kincaid?” Peterson said, white noise distorting his voice. “I’m on a military transport with Patrick.”

“How is he?”

“Alive.”

“Has he regained consciousness?”