Page 23 of I’ll Be There (Montana Fire #4)

“This is going to work, right?” Conner stood, one hand wrapped around the bar of his cell. “You got this.”

Kyle peered through the door. “Yeah. There’s no reason this guy would know about Liza—”

“It’s the NSA. They make it their business to know. We need to post a tail...”

“I think your buddy Micah has it covered.” He held the cell door open, and Micah walked in, Reuben, Seth, and Romeo on his tail.

“Hey,” Conner said. “Sit-rep.”

“He must have stopped for the night. GPS has Blankenship just outside of town. He’ll be coming here, if he’s following the signal, and Kyle will let him in.”

“I hate this.”

“It’s the safest place for you, Conner,” Kyle said. “We have eyes and ears everywhere. If you want to confront him, and get any confession on tape, do it here.”

Micah nodded. “And Pete is tailing Liza. He’ll keep an eye on her until we wrap this up.”

“What if he’s armed?” Conner said.

“Not in here, he won’t be,” Kyle said.

It made sense—all of it. After he’d spilled the entire story for Kyle, and convinced the deputy to let Jim Micah into the conversation, Kyle had come up with a plan. Or at least an idea, which Micah and Conner fleshed out.

He’d confirmed their story with Danny Boy’s cell phone, and even located Blankenship on the map, courtesy of Conner’s GPS program, which they’d pulled down from the cloud.

Blankenship would be expecting his shooter pal at the other end of his trip. Which meant that Kyle would be here to greet him, let him into a visitor-slash-interrogation room.

Surprise him with a hello from Conner. Then, locked inside the room, Conner would extract—politely—answers from Blankenship.

“Nobody gets hurt,” Kyle had said a couple times.

Micah had raised an eyebrow behind Kyle’s back that said, We’ll see.

Conner had spent the rest of the night pacing in his cell, four corners he knew well by the time Liza had shown up. Beautiful, concerned Liza. Who took in the story almost without blinking.

I want you to be all mine. But I also want this to be over for you. So get answers, but please, Conner, be careful too.

Yes. And he’d meant his words about walking away from smoke jumping, despite the fist in his chest.

“Show time,” Micah said.

“Stay put. Stay calm,” Kyle said as he let the troupe out.

Conner met Micah’s gaze a second before the door closed.

Please, God.

He hadn’t prayed much—if at all—since getting Blue’s call, but now...

Wow, he wanted to be a soccer dad. Build a life, a home, a family with this amazing woman. But he needed to shut the door on Justin’s death.

Keep his promise to find his killer.

Help me find answers.

Kyle came back, his game face on. “You’re up.” He opened the cell door and led Conner down the hall, into the interrogation room. “Nobody gets hurt.”

We’ll see.

He slipped Danny Boy’s phone into Conner’s hand. “From Micah.”

Conner slid it into his pocket. Stood with his back to the door, arms folded, listening to Kyle’s footsteps in the hallway. Silence, then more footsteps.

The door opened.

Conner took a breath, tightened his jaw. Turned.

He didn’t know what he expected with this showdown. In his wildest hopes P.T. Blankenship came in so surprised that he simply, what...confessed?

Maybe. Still, Conner hardly expected Blankenship to be grinning at him like he might be an old friend.

“Conner, what did you do to get locked up?” Blankenship came over to the table, set his cell phone on it.

Tall, clean cut, he had the rangy movements of a man who’d spent time in the field.

He wore a dress shirt, slightly rumpled, and a pair of dress pants, nice shoes.

Clean shaven, although maybe a few hours ago.

Conner frowned, nonplussed. “I, uh—”

“Killed a man in Canada.” Blankenship shook his head. “Listen, pal, I know all about it. That’s why I’m here. I figured you and I need to talk.”

Conner walked over to his chair, leaned two hands on it. “Yeah. Like why you’d send someone to kill me.”

“No one was trying to kill you, Conner,” Blankenship said. He sighed. “This is bigger than you. Bigger than me. And if we wanted you—or Harmony—dead, well, you would be.”

“Just like Justin?”

Blankenship gestured to a chair. “I’m going to sit now, because I’ve been driving for a couple days.”

“Yeah, ever since you heard your hired assassin, Donny or Danny or whatever his current alias was, ended up dead in a ditch.”

“No, Conner. Ever since I realized that someone was going to give you false information. Try and make you believe that something nefarious is going on here, when instead, the facts are easy. Blue is wanted in connection with Justin’s murder—”

“She didn’t even know he was dead! ”

“Probably because she left the killing to Kayle. She ratted him out as working for the NSA, then ran with the information he’d put together on the SOF as proof of his involvement.”

Conner frowned. “We called you. It was your voice on the phone asking, ‘Is it done?’” He finger quoted his last words.

Blankenship was playing with his phone, turning it like a card, over and over. “If we wanted Blue dead, she would be. My guys are already picking her up in Thunder Bay.” He looked up. “Our goal was to scare her. And frankly, you, from getting in too far with her.”

“Blue is innocent in all this.”

“Really? You need to ask yourself—why did she take your brother’s phone?”

“Because he gave it to her!”

“Or, because it had a list of all his calls on it—calls that she could use to prove to SOF that she wasn’t lying. She used it to incriminate him.”

“She called me—”

“I’ll bet she thought you were Justin.”

Conner stilled.

“Because if you were on the run, wouldn’t you want to know if the man you tried to kill would come after you?”

Conner was shaking his head.

“I’ll get you out of this, Conner. But it’s time to let this go. Justin is dead. I’m sorry. SOF killed him. I don’t know what’s cooking in your head, but it’s not accurate.”

“I found the money trail. I know you’re benefiting from government contracts dished out after SOF terror attacks.”

Blankenship got up. “You found nothing.”

“Vanguard Investments.”

The man raised a shoulder. “Something my sister is heavily invested in.”

“The trail leads back to you.”

“Do you want out in time for your wedding, or not? Because I was ready to tidy this up, but just say the word, and I’ll let you sit here until the Canadian Mounties show up.”

Conner drew in a breath. “How did you know I’m getting married?”

Blankenship shook his head, a crease between his eyebrows as if trying not to laugh. “I’m with the NSA. We know everything.” He then set the phone down and pressed a button.

The voice that came over the line dragged an icy finger down Conner’s spine.

“And after you finish hiking Devil’s Kettle, you should eat at the Naniboujou Lodge. It was built in 1920 and still has the original paint in the interior. They have an amazing wild rice burger.”

He pushed mute, cool eyes on Conner. “No one can hide from us. You never know when you’ll turn around and we’ll be there.” He picked up his phone. Pocketed it. “It’s time to let this go, Conner. Justin is gone, and you’re getting married. I think your bride needs your attention.”

Pete, please be with Liza! But Conner couldn’t look away from Blankenship, the tiny twitch of his mouth as if...

“This isn’t over,” Conner whispered. “I know what you did. And I will prove it.”

“It’d better be,” Blankenship said. “Or you might never have that honeymoon.”

Conner hit his feet.

Blankenship held out his hand. “I’m just saying, the red tape from Canada might tie up all those wedding plans. Doesn’t your bride deserve her perfect day?”

Conner blew out a tremulous breath.

“I hate those last-minute wedding snafus, don’t you?” Blankenship turned and banged on the door. “All done here.”

Conner pressed his hands on the desk, his arms shaking.

Hung his head as Blankenship walked out.

The door swished shut behind him, and he sank down in the chair, scrubbed a hand over his face.

Closed his eyes as the door reopened.

Silence.

“He had Liza,” Conner said, and looked up. “He said Blue had—”

“We heard him,” Kyle said quietly. Micah stood beside him, his expression grim.

Conner drew in a breath. “I...I’m not sure why I thought that would work.” He stood up so fast the chair dumped over. “I should have just—just—”

“What?” Micah said. “Waited for him with a sniper rifle?”

Yes. “No.”

“We don’t have enough proof. Not yet.”

Conner looked up, shook his head. “There isn’t any more proof.

There’s nothing connecting Blankenship—or Blue, for that matter—to Justin’s murder.

He was simply found in a field, his body burned beyond recognition, executed with a bullet to his head—a bullet that was never found.

It could have been anyone.” He cuffed his hand over his mouth, shook his head.

“It’s done. It’s over. And he—someone on his leash—was there, talking to Liza . ”

His own words left him a little weak. “He knew. He knew where I was, where she was. I can’t...this has to be over. Liza’s been through enough, if something had...nope. Not going to happen.”

“Take a breath there, Conner,” Kyle said.

He looked up at the deputy. “I need to get out of here. My bride is waiting for me. I spent enough time chasing this shadow.”

“The Canadian police are still investigating the crash. You’re not being charged with anything...and if your friend Reuben did the shooting, then—”

“It was an accident,” Micah said. “He was just trying to slow him down. Call it a citizen’s arrest.”

“I’m not sure what they’ll call it, but for now...get out of here. Go get married. I have to get home and get some shut-eye before tonight’s rehearsal dinner.”

Rehearsal dinner.

For Conner’s wedding , tomorrow.

Conner headed out the door, down the hall, and spotted Reuben in the lobby. “Call Pete. Ask him if he has eyes on Liza.”

Reuben raised an eyebrow but dug his phone out of his pocket.