Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(17)



“Daddy?” Sam whispered.





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Chapter Four




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ZACH’S HEADLIGHTS SLICED across the shouting figure. He slammed on his brakes and curled his finger around the trigger of the 1911 before pressing the window control.

The smell of burned rubber filtered over the glass. The gate behind him whirred closed, clicked, and locked into place.

The streetlight illuminated Brad Walters. He crossed his arms, his intense gaze sweeping the interior of Zach’s truck.

“Are you crazy? What do you think you’re doing?” Zach snapped.

“Someone climbed over our fence into your yard. I saw blood.”

Zach schooled his features into a skeptical expression that was a lie, of course. He didn’t have much doubt Jenna Walters had sneaked into his house. A pillow and afghan had vanished from the sofa. Some canned goods were missing from the pantry. His jaw tightened in irritation. Brad Walters and his missing wife were a distraction he couldn’t afford.

He gunned the gas on the truck.

“Look, I’m sorry about your wife and son, but I can’t help. You looked yourself. As to the blood, it happens. Paparazzi, fans seem to think they have the right to snoop. File a missing persons report.”

Mostly truth. Jenna Walters was probably long gone, along with the guy’s son. Zach’s final scan of the security system hadn’t detected any heat signatures inside the place.

“You know something. I feel it,” Brad snarled. He slammed his fist against Zach’s window. “I want to look again.”

He didn’t need this. “Then climb over the backyard and knock yourself out. But I have somewhere to be.”

He shoved the truck into gear and swerved onto the street. He wasn’t staying in the open for a second longer.

A quick glance in the rearview mirror solidified his decision. Brad’s face had turned red under the streetlamp. The guy needed an anger management class. Any guilt about not revealing that Jenna had probably been in his backyard and even inside his home washed away like the golden sands of the nearby beaches.

So much for a completely covert escape. Brad Walters was an irritant, though, and Zach had more dangerous predators after him. He still wasn’t sure he could reach his safe house in Colorado in one piece.

On high alert, he gripped the steering wheel. He checked his mirrors over and over, watching for signs of anyone tailing him as he headed south on La Jolla Shores Drive.

When he was certain no one followed, he took a side road and shifted direction toward the freeway. West and north.

Toward the Colorado cabin only one of his brothers knew about. The place that housed the secret life he could never reveal. To anyone.




Sixteen hours.

Zach kneaded the back of his neck. He’d stopped a few times to buy gas at the most out-of-the way stations he could find, paying cash each time, tugging a ball cap over his face to prevent anyone from recognizing him.

Now he was wired from one Red Bull too many as Fools Peak loomed in the distance.

He didn’t stop to consider the irony of his cabin’s location—situated two miles high in the mountain chain better known for Aspen or Vail, magnets for the rich and famous. He negotiated curve after curve, going deeper and deeper into the forest. Pine and aspen lined one side, a steep rock face lined the other.

He’d fallen in love with the spot the moment he’d seen it. Three years, a plethora of machinations to cloak the transaction, and a barrelful of cash later, he had the perfect base. State-of-the-art security and toys in the middle of nowhere. Mountain climbing galore, gorgeous lakes. Who could ask for more?

And no one knew.

He squeezed back the twist of loneliness. He’d never brought anyone here. And he never would.

He rubbed at the grit in his eyes and blinked back the burn. He hadn’t slept for three days. Probably why he’d become so introspective all of a sudden. He needed to recharge, then log into the secure computer and try to figure out who had betrayed not only him, but the country.

The only good news. He hadn’t been followed.

With a last turn, Zach pulled up to the large cabin, its solid wooden walls and isolation finally easing the tension in his neck.

He needed some real food, a soak in the hot tub, and sleep, in that order. He grabbed his duffel from behind the seat and shifted it onto his shoulder.

June had finally brought spring to the mountains—except at the peaks that still held a dusting of snow. He caught sight of a few tufts of daffodils against the bright blue Western sky. The hardy flower fought to survive. At this elevation, though, even in summer, a slight nip hung in the air.

A small sigh escaped Zach. He’d hoped to come here for a vacation away from the press, not as a haven to save his life. Though, truth be told, he’d built it for just that reason.

He even had a plan in place to disappear.

He didn’t want to have to do that. His mom…Zach closed his eyes. She loved him, even though he’d disappointed her. Even when he’d sat in the hospital covered in his father’s blood…she’d loved him.

Zach didn’t deserve her.

He unlocked the cabin and stepped inside. Dust had settled everywhere. He tossed his duffel on the sofa and walked out back to check the helipad. The chopper was still there. He’d ditch the pickup in the garage and use the Range Rover. The vehicle’s ownership had been buried so deep even Theresa wouldn’t be able to uncover it.

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