Susan Sleeman - Holiday Secrets

Gavin stifled a groan. As far as he knew, his dad’s only experience with the FBI was watching TV shows and movies that often got things wrong. Murder investigations didn’t top the Bureau’s priorities, and the Feds rarely involved themselves in a case without being invited.

“No worries there,” Gavin said.

“I’ll be there in less than ten.” His dad disconnected the call.

Gavin returned to Lexie, who hadn’t moved, her gaze fixed on her father. Gavin squatted next to her and told her softly, “Dad’s on his way.”

She sighed. “I suppose now would be a good time for you to tell me why you wanted to see me.”

Though it was no longer necessary to locate her father, Gavin would still need to interview her and serve the warrant to search her father’s office and home. Obviously, there was no point in the FBI filing charges against a deceased person, but his records could contain information about other doctors involved in the fraud. Still, nothing needed to be done tonight, and he’d hold off on upsetting her until after she’d gotten some rest.

“That can wait,” he said.

She shook her head in wide sorrowful arcs. “You sound like my father. You both had these big things you needed to talk to me about. Turns out, he only wanted to give me that envelope. He tried, but it was so weird.”

“Weird in what way?”

“He was acting totally out of character. All jittery and afraid. Clearly, he had a right to be. The shooter was creepy and not at all concerned about committing murder.” She blew out an unsteady breath. “He said this would be his third strike, and he wasn’t going back to prison. He also took the envelope and said he’d killed Dad’s attorney in Mexico because Dad gave him the same information.”

So Dr. Grant had been hiding out in Mexico this last month. But why? “Did the shooter mention what the envelope contained?”

She shook her head. “He did say he was part of some syndicate. Said Dad was meeting with the head honcho today, and the killer wasn’t going to let that happen.”

Gavin nodded but didn’t speak. Dr. Grant wasn’t the only doctor in the fraud investigation. Gavin hadn’t yet found a connection between the doctors, but he supposed it was possible they could have formed a syndicate and this murder was related.

“And there’s more,” she said. “The killer knew my name. Called me Dad’s precious Lexie. Which means he didn’t know Dad very well as I wasn’t precious to him. Maybe once. When Mom was alive.”

Gavin had hoped she’d reconciled with her father in the past few years, but clearly she’d still had issues with him. And now, thanks to her father, a killer knew her name.

Gavin didn’t like it. Not one bit. He didn’t want the killer to know anything about her. “In what context did he mention you?”

“He asked if Dad gave me the information, too. Dad said no, but the killer didn’t believe him. Dad warned me before he died that this guy is dangerous, and he’ll come after me. Kill me, too.”

“Kill you?” Gavin’s voice shot up, spooking Lexie and Lightning. He lowered his voice. “Do you have the information he’s worried about?”

“I don’t know what was in that envelope and Dad didn’t give me anything else. But now that we know someone is looking for information, it makes sense that his office and house were ransacked.” She turned her big-eyed gaze to him. “What if the killer spotted me as he was leaving? If he did, he knows I saw him commit murder.” She shuddered. “Do you think he’ll come after me? Try to kill me, too?”

“I won’t let that happen, sugar. I promise.” Gavin wrapped an arm around her shoulders to help allay her fear, but his emotions were a different story.

If this man had killed once, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so again, and now he had Lexie in his sights.

TWO

Lexie didn’t know what to think. To feel. After Gavin’s father arrived, he’d escorted her to the main road where she now sat sideways in the front of Sheriff McKade’s patrol car, her feet planted on the asphalt as she waited to give her statement. She caught a glimpse in the distance of tall lights, their halos standing like beacons in the night over the plane wreckage, another set near her father’s body, warning all who came close of the horrific sight.

And it had been horrific. There was no question. Even for a trauma nurse. Seeing the once-solid plane in tiny bits scattered around the area. Seeing her father gunned down. Worse than horrific.

She shuddered and stared at her blood-caked hands. Her father’s blood. He’d lain in front of her, his life floating away, his eyes going blank and glazed. She’d seen death before. Of course she had. Many times in the ER. Always feeling sad for a life lost coupled with a bit of second-guessing as she ran the trauma through her brain to make sure they’d handled it right.

But tonight? What did she feel now?

Something, that was for sure, but it was hard to put a finger on her emotions. She definitely didn’t feel the deep, split-your-insides-open anguish she’d experienced when her mother had died. So was it guilt for not being able to save her dad? Maybe. Actually, now that she took the time to think about it, she felt numb. Cold inside and out. Alone. So alone.

Where are You again, God? Why take someone else from my life? From Adam’s life? Am I this undeserving of love?

Why was she even asking at this point in life? Nothing changed.

She wrapped her arms around her body and ran her hands up and down her arms to ward off the howling wind. Earlier, she’d tried closing the car door, but claustrophobia had set in and she’d had to open it again.

The sound of boots stomping across the road brought her head up in time to catch Sheriff McKade marching over to Gavin.

Gavin. What did she do about him? She’d been relieved to see him when he’d arrived. Practically thrown herself into his arms. But now what? Was he the reason for her numbness?

She shifted to get a better look at the pair. They stood strong, staring across the road, backs to her with hands on their waists in identical stances. They were both over six feet. Both had a head of thick, black hair, though she knew gray strands that had grown in numbers over the years intricately laced the sheriff’s.

Gavin suddenly crossed his arms and spun. His dark gaze landed on her and that familiar, angry frustration with his dad lingered in his eyes. Walt turned, as well. They spit a few more sentences at each other and Gavin suddenly stormed in her direction.

Lexie sighed. Nothing had changed. The same old Gavin, and the same reason he’d left town. Left her.

Gavin was the firstborn in a family of four siblings, and his father held his son to lofty standards that no one could live up to. Still, Gavin had wanted a career in law enforcement and the only option without leaving Lost Creek was to work as a deputy for his dad. He’d tried to make a go as a deputy for years. Really tried. Even if it meant he wasn’t always happy.

Then one day he’d disagreed with direct orders from his father on how to handle a domestic disturbance. Walt had wanted to sit back and wait for things to play out. Not Gavin. He was more of a “take action and sort things out later” kind of guy. Fearing for the wife’s safety, he’d stepped in. Tensions escalated and he’d ended up in a shoot-out with the husband, catching his wife in the cross fire. Emily had survived, and Gavin wasn’t hurt, but from that day on, his father no longer trusted him.

No matter how hard Gavin worked to right things between them, he failed and couldn’t continue to work with his father. His only choice was to leave town. At least, that was what he’d thought. Lexie still didn’t agree.