Page 93 of Won't Back Down
I just had to hope that he chose the same area for all the reasons he must’ve chosen it years ago. I had no idea what the hell he’d been doing out there. No idea what connection he might have had to Joe Anderson’s murder or Gwen Busby’s disappearance. But if he’d gone so far as to see Willa effectively tortured and brainwashed to keep from remembering what had happened, chances were that whatever was trapped in her mind was incriminating as hell.
As I tried to wrap my brain around all of it, I began to question and doubt myself. What if I was wrong? What if he was exactly what he appeared to be? What if his connection with Collin Caswell was a total fluke? What if the danger was really from some other quarter, and O’Shea had simply taken Willa home?
The sight of his car right at the edge of Osprey Beach put those doubts to rest. It was parked cattywampus, with the doors hanging open, as if he’d gotten out in a hurry. Like maybe his captive had run.
I waved Daniel toward the beach, and he took us in.
The moment we’d landed, I was over the side, sprinting toward the car. A warning bell dinged, indicating the keys were still in it. Peering inside, I spotted Willa’s purse in the backseat.
“She was here.” But there was no sign of her now, nor of O’Shea. “I don’t think the doors would be open like this if he had her under control. I think she bolted.” Which meant she’d gotten away from him, at least for a little while.
Use that big brain of yours, Wren. Stay ahead of him.
“What you want us to do?” Daniel asked.
I tried to put myself in Willa’s shoes. If she’d run from him, she’d realized she was in danger. We were right by the woods that had always been her safe place. She’d have gone there. Probably found a place to hide.
I had no idea if O’Shea was armed. It seemed safer to err on the assumption than he was. Daniel could handle himself, but I didn’t want Gabi put in harm’s way. No way would she stay behind. We were losing the light fast. If Willa was thinking clearly, she might try to double back or lose O’Shea. But if she was riding instinct, I suspected she’d aim for where the horses might be.
“Split up. You two head north by the beach. Aim to cut into the woods where the crime scene tape is. I’ll go in from here. Be safe. We don’t know if he’s armed.” And we had absolutely nothing on us.
But I couldn’t think about that as I plunged into the woods, praying I’d made the right call.
How much of a lead did they have? Five minutes? Half an hour? My brain was all too happy to offer up a multitude of terrifying things that could happen in that span. I wanted to run. To pour on all the speed until I found them both. But I forced myself to maintain a steady pace, hunting for the trail in the failing light. Racing through here like a bull in a china shop would just announce I was coming. If O’Shea was paying attention, that seemed like a good way to get shot, or worse.
I was on Sutter land by now. There were no formal trails here, only what amounted to game trails worn in by the horses. Would Willa take the path of least resistance? Or would she stay off them in hopes of confusing her pursuer?
Instinct drove me north, toward the deepest part of the woods, and it was finally there that I heard it.
“Willa. Come out now. I know you can hear me.”
O’Shea. And he hadn’t found her yet.
I crept carefully toward his voice. If I could get the drop on him, I could immobilize him before he could do worse than whatever he’d already done.
“Come now, Willa. You don’t want one of these horses you love so much to get hurt on your behalf, do you?”
I’d reached the edge of the clearing. The same one where Willa had brought me after the hurricane. O’Shea stood in the middle, near the pond. The dull gleam of a gun barrel flashed in his hand. With all the limbs down from the storm, there’d be no sneaking up on him. There was simply too much debris to step on or try to dodge. Beyond him, I could see part of the herd, with several of them clustered in the trees. Because I’d seen them with Willa before, I suspected she was in the center, crouched down between equine bodies. They shifted uneasily, focus on O’Shea.
“What did you do with Gwen?”
I closed my eyes at the sound of her voice, both relieved and terrified that she’d revealed herself.
“I did nothing with her. I just saw that she was delivered where she was supposed to be delivered.”
Delivered? What the hell did that mean? Had Willa remembered something, or was she guessing?
“Delivered to who? For what?”
“That was never my concern. I just handled logistics. Look, I told you, I never wanted to hurt you. But I’ve worked too long and too hard for the life I have, to lose it simply because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? I thought you were a friend. Someone that I could trust.”
“Well, I was. So long as you couldn’t remember, I was happy to continue on as advisor to you about the family estate, exactly as I have for your grandfather for decades.” He paused, his lips curving a little. “And I truly did enjoy going toe-to-toe with your family’s lawyers to hand your father his ass. He had a long-standing deal with Anthony Strand, you know. Full development of all this beautiful land. They tried it before, years ago, but of course Henry wouldn’t go for it. So John thought he’d simply wait the old man out and pounce when he died. But he didn’t count on you. Well done there.”
“And what’s supposed to happen to the estate if you kill me?”
“Oh, well, I’m not actually sure, since Sawyer signed that post-nup. I don’t suppose you’ve already written up a will? Young people never think to do such things so early in a marriage. I expect it’ll be up to the courts to decide whether it goes to your parents or to your brother. But don’t worry, I’ll do what I can to try to save it from the vultures. I don’t want this land developed any more than you do. It’s really beautiful here.”