JACE (Lane Brothers Book 3) Page 11

  And just like that we have a plan and something solid to go on for once. Why I didn’t consider Lynn from the get-go is anyone’s guess, but now that I have her in my sights I won’t leave till I have at least a starting point to find Roman and maybe do something about this mess so I can live my life in peace for a change.

  Trace and I rise and both go to give Jared a hug before leaving to go pack a few things. I don’t know exactly where Miah and Roman stashed Lynn, and the truth is I don’t care as long as the jet gets us there fast.

  “You okay?” I ask once we’re in our rooms and Trace heads straight for the closet, flinging my overnight bag at me as she exits with her own and an armful of clothes.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. This is all just so freaking unreal, you know? A few hours ago my main concern was how to tell the Bureau that I quit and they could kiss my ass if they didn’t like it. Now my best friend is missing, your brother looks about as sane as a serial killer, and I’m about to meet the woman who tried to kill your sister. This is all too much and yet, I’ve never felt this great,” she admits, shoving her bag closed with a huff.

  “How crazy is it that I like the thought of mentally breaking your aunt?”

  “Not crazy at all,” I reassure her, taking her in my arms for a tight squeeze before heading into the closet for my own change of clothes. “I’d have broken her a long time ago if Miah would let me use waterboarding.”

  That’s not exactly true, but I won’t admit to feeling a little sorry for the old girl and being unwilling to harm her in any way. She was my aunt, someone I loved and trusted for a long time.

  Well, at least I felt that way before considering she’s one of the masterminds behind a plot to kill us all and run a money-making terrorist organization at the same time.

  Now I may not be willing to hurt her, but to get Roman back and find Paulie for Jared, I am more than willing to let Trace loose on her and watch her crack like a freaking egg.

  “It’s not crazy, babe. This is our only shot right now and I’m not too broken up about watching her mind shatter, to tell you the truth. We need something to go on here, just one clue to point us in the right direction. These people are too well organized, and no amount of training or know-how will help us if they don’t show themselves. We know this. Just go in and do what you can and hopefully she’ll give us something. She’s arrogant and still high on her victory, so we should get something.”

  I take Trace’s hand and our bags and start for the stairs. Lynn…she’ll either start gloating or she’ll clam up. Only time will tell, and right now we’re running out of the shit.

  “Where are the two of you going?” I hear as soon as we hit the foyer and I groan when Ma comes stalking up with Pop hot on her heels and ready to start yelling.

  “Jason, this is getting out of hand. With Roman gone we think it’s best for you boys to stick close to home for the time being.”

  “Pop, I need to go and do some stuff.”

  “Jason.”

  “No, Ma. We’re trying to find Roman and Trace has a lead that she thinks will get us some answers as to where he may be. Now I know that leaving isn’t a good idea, and I understand your concerns, but Trace and I need to go. We’ll be back tomorrow night at the latest, and I’ll tell you everything then,” I say, kissing her once before nodding to Pop and taking Trace’s hand.

  She’s still saying good-bye when I pull her to the car waiting for us, Miah at the wheel, and shuffle her into the back seat before jumping in front with Miah.

  “You two ready?”

  “As we’ll ever be.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Trace

  I’m so nervous, my palms won’t stop sweating as we pull up to the “hospital” and the driver gets out to open the door. Our flight took a little over three hours. By the time we landed, Jace and I had been over my questions a million times, tweaking them here and there so as to get them exactly right.

  I have to play this right if I don’t want to tip my hand, and to that end I’m going in alone and posing as a doctor and not Jace’s girlfriend.

  But I am nervous, and not just because this woman is certifiably insane and one of the most evil specimens I’ve ever heard of, but because if I screw up the chances of us finding Roman alive are very slim.

  I can’t fail. I won’t fail. I just hope all that cocky confidence I had with Jared isn’t me blowing smoke up my own ass.

  “This way, please.”

  The doctor, a cold-looking man with bushy gray eyebrows and a limp in his gait, meets us at the door and we enter what looks like a horror-movie hospital that echoes with moans and the distinct smell of hopelessness and evil.

  Whoever is housed here is not good—that I know when the main gate buzzes open and I hear cackling and screaming.

  “Easy, babe. They’re all locked up nice and tight, so stop worrying. I also have a piece tucked into my boot, so you’re safe,” he whispers when I jump and shiver with fear.

  Man up, Mayfield! You’re a freaking agent, not a civilian. Remember that and grow a spine, I yell silently, breathing through my nose as tight knots form in my belly.

  We walk down a long, dimly lit corridor before the doc stops at a door at the end and produces a set of keys.

  “Mrs. Conrad will be in shortly. Mr. Lane, you can follow me to the room next door where a two-way mirror is available. Miss Mayfield, if I may suggest, leave the file with your colleague. Mrs. Conrad is sedated, but the old girl is not sane and she does not need a weapon to aid her. Even a file can be dangerous when dealing with these individuals.”

  Oh great. If she’s capable of attacking me with some empty cardboard, I feel really good about going in there alone, I think, swallowing as Jace pulls me close and whispers in my ear.

  “That glass isn’t bulletproof. If she makes one move your way I will nail her between the eyes.”

  Okay, now I feel sick, because that is hands down the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me, and I’m feeling almost turned on by his willingness to commit violence in my defence.

  Plus, I feel safe, knowing that he’s just a bullet away.

  How romantic.

  “I’ll be fine. Just go with Doctor Frank—with the doctor, and I‘ll see you in a few.”

  “Kiss me.”

  I obey and pull away a minute later with a smile and a wink when he looks green and ready to throw me over his shoulder and bolt.

  “It’ll be okay, Jace. I swear. Now watch how brilliant I am.” I chuckle, gritting my teeth against the need to start crying.

  You’ve done this before, I keep telling myself when Jace finally nods and reluctantly lets me go. I brace myself and enter the small white room, ignoring the mirror as I take my seat and start going over the interrogation in my head.

  The lab coat the good doc provided, coupled with the clear lens glasses and my ugly-ass shoes, give me a boost of confidence I needed about a minute ago before I let Jace witness my nerves.

  All I need to do is ask her enough to ascertain whether or not she is involved in the Patriots.

  “Well hello there. How nice to finally see a different face.”

  I turn to the door and stop my inner dialogue when the door creeks open and a thin, matronly looking woman breezes in, her demeanor that of a woman who thinks she’s above it all to the extreme.

  I see Ronny in her refined, vain movements so clearly that I don’t even blink the whole time as she glides to the mirror and starts priming her hair.

  “Mrs. Conrad, my name is Doctor Gates and I’ll be performing your assessment today. Please do take a seat.”

  She laughs and fluffs her hair once before turning to me with a wide smile.

  “Oh dear, can’t we exchange a few civilized pleasantries, at least? Surely this situation does not make it necessary for us to conduct ourselves like common rabble, dear.”

  Oh, God help me if this is not the living, breathing, carbon copy of Ronny. While they look nothing alike, I can see Ronny in e
very over-the-top hand gesture, facial expression, and manner of speech as Lynn Conrad floats over to the table and offers me her hand.

  Like I’d sully myself by touching her.

  “Mrs. Conrad, I am not here to please your vanity or coddle you in any way. You are a patient at this facility and it’s my job to talk to you about the events leading up to your institutionalization and your treatment thus far,” I say harshly, removing the tape recorder from my pocket and keeping it low beneath the table so she doesn’t see it.

  My answer does not please her, and I almost smile when she scowls and plops into the chair with a huff of displeasure.

  “What do you want form me?”

  “Just your recollection of the events that took place on the third of May last year when you shot your husband and kidnapped your nephew’s fiancée at gunpoint. Your intent to kill her and send her body home to Wyatt Lane is the reason you are housed in such a high security establishment, and it is the opinion of the other staff members and your primary doctor that you could qualify to be moved to a lower security hospital with less restrictions.”

  That gets her attention, and it’s a real effort to keep my face blank when she perks up and gets downright sweet all of a sudden.

  “Why, I explained to them all that I was drinking and taking some prescription pills at the time. That coupled with my grief almost sent me into a mania. I hardly remember all of it and…and it breaks my heart to think that I almost killed that poor woman, if not for my dear nephews stopping me.”

  What a crock!

  “I saw in the notes from previous sessions that you weren’t quite lucid when you arrived, so that supports you being on very strong drugs. However, we have yet to establish the facts that led up to the event. From family statements, I see that you were almost broke and under a great deal of stress, and yet the police report stated that your net worth was well over a million dollars.”

  Her eyes narrow and I swallow, keeping my expression blank.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, it doesn’t add up and the doctors think that you’re using the stress and pills as an excuse. Obviously that can’t be valid, because you were well and financially stable at the time.”

  “Of course I was! I’m no fool despite having married one, young lady. When I saw that Jerry was less than trustworthy and a moron besides, I decided to start my own venture. I made sure that I was taken care of and that my brother would be none the wiser. See, I’m not as helpless as they all thought.”

  And there it is. The vanity I was counting on.

  Now this next part is tricky and not something I can rush, but I’m feeling great after that little display, so I relax a little and narrow my own eyes in return.

  “Then explain to me how you could have needed the medication and alcohol.”

  “My son was killed.”

  Ah, still so stony. We’ll see how long that lasts, Lynnie, I think as her lips compress and her eyes turn sharp.

  “That is a well-documented fact. But that occurred four years before you attempted to murder Eloise Carver.”

  “Four years! It feels like yesterday that I lost my boy, and the pain is still as deep as it was the day I put him in the ground, you idiot! Are you a mother?”

  “No, I am not.”

  She scoffs at me and runs a hand through her thinning hair.

  “Well you’ll understand one day, girl, when you have children of your own. You’ll know the pain and work it takes to love a child. They killed my baby and just expected me to let it go without retribution!”

  “He stalked, kidnapped, and mentally and physically tortured Miss Carver,” I point out, watching her nose quiver with rage.

  “He just wanted her to love him.”

  “He wanted to hurt her.”

  That shuts her up and I can almost feel the violent rage coming off her in waves.

  “You have to see that hating your own family for your son’s wrongdoing is not healthy, Mrs. Conrad. To heal and move on from this, you have to make peace with your family and accept that they were not to blame. They have most certainly moved on from this and are even now living their lives, maybe not freely because I doubt that they will forget what occurred, but at present it is you and you, alone, who still suffers this pain. You need to accept and let go to finally heal.”

  “Heal! Heal?” she yells, flinging herself to her feet and sneering as the chair crashes to the floor with a clang.

  Steady, Trace, just keep your cool, I keep saying as she starts pacing frantically, her arms waving around uncontrollably.

  “You think I care about healing, you stupid bitch? All I care about is exacting vengeance on that whole family!”

  Bingo.

  “Ahem, not to upset you further, because I can see that this has been a waste of time, but I would like to point out that you cannot exact revenge from a cell in a mental hospital, Mrs. Conrad. In short, the only person who is being harmed here is yourself. Unless you finally come to terms with this and move forward.”

  That gets me a smirk before she starts laughing so hard she doubles over.

  “You think I’m not getting my revenge, you moron? I put it all together from the start. I have it all planned out, and even in here, it’s still being done. My niece will make sure of it, as will the others. By the time Wyatt Lane knows who is behind it all, he’ll be watching his precious bitch die a terrible death.”

  “Huh. Okay.”

  I rise to my feet and give my words just enough doubt to start her huffing again. See, I know people, and knowing Ronny, seeing that this woman is the same can of worms, I know that she can’t resist boasting, not now when her only pleasure is to show others how superior she is.

  “You don’t believe me? Well you should, you idiot. See, I planned it all. I started a group, a business, if you will, that not only put the law in my pocket but also netted me a large fortune and connections in the government. They all owe me. They all know that I have dirt on them, and they all will do what I tell them to do or I’ll reveal the contents of my safety-deposit box.”

  “From a mental hospital?”

  “No, you fool! Cleo has it all. She’s the one who helped me get it all set up in the first place. Her husband died in a car crash and she was left penniless and crippled. She had to use what she had to support herself and her family, so she called her husband’s friend Carl and he put her in touch with her source. Then we got Dobson, and after that the whole police department. So you see, I’m not as trapped here as they all think. It will happen without me. All of it will!” She laughs, spinning in circles and cackling madly.

  Well, that was just nice. Who knew she’d actually give me names?

  “Thank you, Lynn. You’ve been a great help today, and I appreciate your candor,” I say, pausing at the door with a smile.

  “Wha-what happens now? Will they put me someplace better? Will you tell them that I’m not fit to be locked away so cruelly?” she asks in a singsong voice that sends shivers down my spine.

  This is exactly why this chick can never be let loose on society and innocent people. She just basically confessed her every crime to me, a woman posing as her shrink, and she thinks I’m going to put in a good word for her?

  Thank God I never have to see her again after this, because as it stands, I am not sure I won’t be having nightmares about this creature for weeks to come.

  She scares me, she really does, and I want nothing more than to get as far from her as possible, as soon as possible. But first…

  I turn and smile kindly, shaking my head regretfully.

  “Wyatt says hi.”

  She’s still screaming and banging at the door as I meet Jace and take his hand in mine.

  “You are diabolical, lady,” he says, grinning so hard, his smile blinds me.

  “Thank Sally Kerns and her nastiness the year I turned sixteen and my boobs didn’t come in. I learned early on how to get others to follow my line of conversation
so I didn’t die of boredom or kill anyone for their insults. This was a piece a cake.”

  I don’t let on that my palms are almost bleeding because I clenched my fists so tightly in there, but I do feel really good right now, especially considering that I taped that bitch for one and all to understand just how cool I really am.

  The minute I see Jared, I’m ramming this tape recorder down his throat for ever doubting my skill as a ninja assassin, kickass mind bender.

  Take that, Jar. And take that, Cleo Conrad, because we’re coming for your ass and I don’t even care at this point that you’re old, paralyzed, and defenceless.

  She’ll spill the beans or I’ll break her legs so bad, she’ll never regain feeling in her limbs.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jace

  My heart is still pounding hours later when we disembark and meet Miah at the car. Trace is fast asleep and cuddled into me as I slide into the back seat and settle her more snuggly against my chest.

  My shoulder hurts like an open root on a rotten tooth, but I ignore it and just enjoy the heat and scent of her sleep-warmed body as Miah starts the car and pulls back onto the road just as the late afternoon sun start dipping towards the horizon.

  “She okay?” Miah asks, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror when Trace makes a sound in her sleep and clutches at my shirt before relaxing against me again.

  “She’ll be fine, Miah, she’s not weak.”

  No, she’s strong and so brilliant that I’m still riding high off the rush of seeing her expertly lead Lynn to her grave. I am the weak one here, because as great as that was to witness I will never forget the fear in her eyes in that split second before she turned to meet Lynn and the craziness that I knew the woman wears like a mantle.

  I’d stood at the mirror, practically glued to the thing with my piece in my fist the whole time, despite the doc glaring at me and insisting I put my weapon away before he called security.

  I do not hate Lynn, and I don’t want her physically harmed, but I’d been ready and more than willing to end her if she so much as made a move for Trace.