The Callahan's: Secret Sins Part 23

Thankfully, he was saved from reply as Dr. Mayan moved quickly from the operating room.

Her surgical greens were unstained, other than the line of sweat at the edge of the hair covering, and a smile curved at her Cupid's-bow lips.

Archer turned fully to her. "She's okay?"

Relief was already tearing through him.

"Excellent," the doctor a.s.sured him. "The ammo was a real dud, literally. She has some st.i.tches, but the surgeon did an excellent job. She shouldn't have more than a thin scar, which will disappear over time." She squeezed Archer's arm firmly. "Our girl was d.a.m.ned lucky, Archer."

"Our" girl. Mayan hadn't seen Anna but a few times over the years, yet, like everyone else Anna met, the doctor was protective of her.

From the corner of his eye he watched as the Corbins slowly eased back, then turned and left the waiting area entirely. b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. He was definitely going to have a talk with Robert.

"When can I see her?" he asked.

Krista frowned, and turned to where the Corbins once stood. "Well, I was going to let the family see her first," she sighed. "But since they've left-" She turned back to him, smiling softly as she patted his arm in understanding. "Come on, then. They should be moving her from recovery now. She's actually been out of surgery for a while now, but I wanted to stay with her until she came out of the anesthesia. She was asking for you before I left the room."

She was asking for him rather than her family?

The knowledge of that had his chest tightening, emotion swirling to the surface that he didn't dare contemplate. Emotions he didn't want to look into or decipher just yet.

"Caine." He turned to the deputy who was entering the waiting room. "I want you at the house. Go over it completely. Someone was at the door to the study. Nash found ammo casings from the shootings; get his report and see what he's found."

"On it, Sheriff," Caine promised. "When you've left the hospital, get hold of me."

Archer nodded and turned to the doctor without daring to pause. He'd seen the message in the deputy's eyes and, whatever the other man had to tell him, he didn't want to say anything in front of witnesses. And Archer didn't want Sorenson or his daughter to suspect if there was information incoming.

Whoever had shot at Anna meant business, and he was d.a.m.ned if he would underestimate them again.

Four hours later Wayne entered the back door under cover of night, the woods behind the house sheltering his arrival.

"Have you seen anything?" he asked the man who turned from the living room window to watch him solemnly.

"Nothing. If anyone's watching her, then they didn't come out when I fired on her or after I returned."

Wayne nodded slowly. "Excellent. All we have to worry about is Archer and his deputies now. I wondered if Crowe cared enough to place a protective detail on her. It's nice to see he doesn't."

Satisfaction built inside him, as did antic.i.p.ation. "If she hasn't left within the next week, take her, however you have to. Just make sure you're not caught or identified."

He nodded carefully. Every movement he made was always done carefully, deliberately.

"Your daughter returned, I see," the other man stated. "Why not see if she can get her very good friend to visit? It would ensure taking her without being caught.

"Make d.a.m.ned sure Amelia isn't harmed when you take her."

"She won't be harmed, nor will she be able to identify me," he promised. "If she hasn't made plans to leave, then I'll take her that night."

Wayne was a fool, Amory thought.

He was playing fast and loose with the rules, and actually believed that by making a move on Anna Corbin, he could make it appear as though someone else were trying to kill her.

Someone besides the Slasher.

He wasn't fooling anyone.

It didn't matter when the FBI came in, before or after Anna Corbin died. And it wouldn't matter when the state police took over the investigation. It would still have the same results.

Both their deaths.

Thankfully, he had only a week left in town himself. He'd take Ms. Corbin, and he'd ensure Wayne was revealed in the process.

Revealing himself wouldn't be a problem.

Amory Wyatt didn't really exist anyway.

"Do you think she really loves me as she seems to, Amory?" Wayne asked him then, his voice reflective. "She doesn't seem to hate me, does she?"

His daughter hated him more than anything on the face of this earth. Even as they spoke, she was attempting to find some hint of proof to tie him to the Slasher's reign of blood. Amory could see it in her eyes and her actions each time he saw her slipping into Wayne's office after he left or the house.

Amelia Sorenson was no one's fool. But there was no proof for her to find in that office, where she was currently going through files and desk drawers. No, the proof was in a very well hidden cabin in the mountains. A location her friend, Anna Corbin, would know soon enough.

"I do," he lied to the other man. "I believe she sees a father whose only goal in life is her protection, and I believe she loves you as any child should."

As any child should love the father who she knows is a monster. An unprincipled, evil creature whose only true hunger is for blood and pain.

Sorenson nodded, a sickening smile of thankfulness about his lips.

No creature such as Sorenson should ever believe himself deserving of love, let alone feel thankful that it might be his.

"She's a good girl," Wayne stated softly. "Perhaps once Anna is gone, one way or the other, I'll reward her for her loyalty."

Amory nodded absently as he turned back to the window to ensure that Crowe Callahan's agents were still well hidden. Too bad they hadn't seen the other man slip into the back of his house.

"She would make you an excellent wife, Amory," Wayne stated then. "We could find my inheritance together. The captain's treasure is just awaiting us, my friend. Enough gold and jewels to finance several generations. Your children's children would be rich."

Amory turned back to him slowly, tilting his head thoughtfully as he watched the other man.

"You'd allow me to court her?" he asked, pretending interest.

"If you want her, then I insist upon it." Wayne nodded. "You'd make a much better son-in-law than any other man I know."

"Thank you." Amory smiled back at him as though pleased. "I'd like that. I'd like that very much."

Fortunately for him, he was already married.

Married, with his own children and wife far away.

Far, far away.

And soon to return to.

Midnight, Archer's study The meeting had been put off twice.

Entering the study, Archer glanced at the man awaiting him, but he had to admit, the man who had accompanied was unexpected.

"Ryan, what's going on?" he asked, watching Ryan Calvert, the fourth of the Callahan brothers, who had been believed to have died at three months of age from a fever.

He hadn't died. His mother, Eileen Callahan, had sold him to a wealthy couple out of Boston for enough money to save her husband and her ranch.

Now, at forty years of age, the adopted son of a renowned Boston surgeon and his socialite wife, the other man amused himself with the covert lifestyle he'd learned in the CIA.

A covert lifestyle that had been focused on finding the ident.i.ty of the man, or men, called the Slasher for the past twelve years.

The other man, Deputy John Caine, was another story.

"I asked what the f.u.c.k was going on here?" Archer repeated himself, anger brewing in his tone as well as his senses.

"Sorry, Sheriff," John muttered as he turned fully from the map of the Slasher's kills. "We had to be d.a.m.ned sure we could trust you before I revealed who I was and why I was here."

"Who you are?" Archer leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring back at the younger man.

"It was my order, Archer," Ryan told him. "When I found John, he was packing for Corbin County. I had his ident.i.ty changed and used my contacts to build his history. And I ordered that he hold the truth back from you when he would have told you."

"Why?" Archer growled.

"Because you're too close to the man we've been investigating," John answered. "Ryan and I both wanted to be certain, as close as you were to him, that you wouldn't reveal what we told you."

"Who the h.e.l.l is he?"

Archer could feel the fury really beginning to build in him now.

First he'd get the name, then he'd teach Ryan and John both the error of keeping such vital information away from him.

"You can't go after him, Archer." Ryan rose slowly to his feet.

"Do you want me to kill you instead?" Archer asked carefully.

"I guess you'll have to," John sighed. "You'll give me your word you'll help us continue the investigation without revealing what you know, or we'll walk out of here. And if we do, then we may never find his partner until he actually ends up killing again."

"Then you haven't identified both men?"

All he needed was one of their ident.i.ties; he could beat the truth about his partner out of him.

"We haven't yet," Ryan agreed, his deep blue eyes somber. "Come on, Archer. You're an officer of the law. You know how important the proof is. Give me your word. I won't play games, and without it, I'm going to walk out of here in about ten seconds flat."

Archer turned to John.

"I can't, Archer." John obviously read the determination in his eyes. "I'll leave the County first."

Was he willing to let it walk away?

"You have my word," he snarled. "But you'll d.a.m.ned well get out of my way once we find him."

"You'll get there first or stand in line," John bit out furiously then. "Let me tell you why I'm here. I walked into my mother's home four years ago and found her tortured, raped, and murdered. The MO was the same as the Slasher's. Exactly the same. Except I knew the only f.u.c.ker searching for her and it wasn't a serial killer, and she sure as h.e.l.l wasn't a Callahan's lover. My sister lay in her bedroom-my f.u.c.king teenage sister-all but dead. As far as he knows, she is dead. He's already struck at my family and, by G.o.d, I will have my piece of him first."

For the first time since he'd known him, the cool demeanor and cynical mockery were wiped away, replaced by a rage that Archer knew well.

"Who is he? I gave you my promise," he snarled.

"My biological father." John's voice was guttural, burning with such fury that Ryan flinched. "The son of a b.i.t.c.h that fathered me and hunted my mother like a f.u.c.king animal in his efforts to find me. Wayne Sorenson."

It was a d.a.m.ned good thing he was sitting.

Archer stared at the deputy in shock.

Not because he'd named Sorenson as a suspect. Archer had a file on him as well. It wasn't knowing the County attorney was a killer, it was knowing John was his biological son.

"He caught up with her in Canada, just after we returned from France with my stepfather and half sister." John's tone was ragged and edged with pain. "She'd changed her name, but somehow he'd managed to find it. My stepfather and I were arranging for a private flight back to France when he found her and my sister. She didn't survive it. My stepfather barely survived it."

"h.e.l.l!" Raking his fingers through his hair, Archer turned and moved behind his desk.

Once there, he picked up the side and moved it back to reveal the safe hidden beneath it. Pulling the door back, he quickly keyed in the digital code, opened the steel door, and pulled a file free.

Leaving the safe open he moved to the front of the desk and handed the file to Ryan.

"It details the last twelve years of the investigation," he told the two men as the deputy stood beside the other man, leafing through it. "Everyone he a.s.sociates with and their backgrounds as well. If I could tie him to just one person, if I could find so much as a hint of suspicion that they could be his partner, then I'd have enough to convince the governor to issue a sealed search warrant."

"You don't have several men in here that we've seen sneaking into his home," Ryan said quietly. "Benson Markle, Tiberius Graeme, and Amory Wyatt. I've run all three of them, and there are gaps in their lives that can't be accounted for. Graeme was actually missing for days after four of the girls were kidnapped twelve years ago. Markle was missing during the last three. Neither Amory nor Graeme even existed before they came here, but I've had several hints from some of my overseas sources that Wyatt may be National Security and could, or could not be, on a case."

"Amory lives several houses down from me," Archer mused. "I've not seen him do more than basically say h.e.l.lo or good-bye to Sorenson. Markle is just a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I've had him under investigation for the past six years for other things, though I've never seen him with Sorenson, or Graeme-" His lips pursed thoughtfully. "It's not Graeme, I'd bet on it."

"Why's that?" Ryan stared back at him intently.

"Graeme's in the Witness Protection Program," he revealed. "What he was, or might be into now, I don't know for sure, but I know the Marshal that oversees his case has had him out of the County giving depositions somewhere each time he's been missing."

Ryan nodded. His hair, a darker blond than Archer's, fell over his brow before he pushed it back.

"That leaves Markle and Wyatt," he stated. "What do you think about those two?"

"It could be either of them," Archer admitted. "Markle is as cold as a blizzard. He puts f.u.c.king ice to shame. He attends the socials, but he hides and watches from the grottos rather than joining in. Wyatt's quiet, keeps to himself, and as far as I know he's never had so much as an argument with anyone. But, like you said, before coming here, he didn't exist."

"If you had to pick, which one would you say it is?" Ryan asked.

"If I had to pick, Markle," Archer answered after a moment's thought. "Amory Wyatt's a friend of the Corbin family. He and Anna's father go hunting a lot together, and he's made himself a part of the community. Markle, on the other hand-" Archer shook his head. "I could see him killing without mercy."

"I'm meeting with my nephews in a few days' time," Ryan sighed. "And I'll tell you now what I'll be telling them. Earlier this summer, in my cover as an a.s.sa.s.sin, I accepted a job in Corbin County. I met with the buyer in a cabin in the mountains. He wanted the Callahans, their lovers, and anyone with so much as a chance of having conceived one of their children, dead."

"Did you ID him?" Archer felt the fingers of one hand curling into a fist.