Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(97)







Chapter Twenty-six


Three weeks later…

“You’ve got to come see this,” Becky said, hanging onto the doorframe of Vanessa’s bedroom, alarm in her tone and in her face.

“What is it?” Vanessa asked, in the process of making her bed. Every day was the same, she got up, she made her bed, she went to work, and she pretended her heart wasn’t shattered into a thousand tiny, bloody pieces. And every day the Knights tiptoed around her, handling her with kid gloves, pretending one of their own wasn’t the reason her heart was shattered into a thousand tiny, bloody pieces.

“Donna Ward and her CIA partner were both found dead in a hotel room this morning,” Becky said. “The victims of gunshot wounds to the head.”

“Jesus.” Vanessa skirted the bed to follow Becky down the hall toward the media room. “Not that I’m all that upset by their passing or anything. Donna Ward was a horror show, and I can only imagine her partner was, too. But still…Jesus.”

“It gets worse,” Becky said as they walked into the media room where all the Knights were gathered around the wide-screen television—it was set to the morning news. For two weeks they’d been kept in the dark about Rock’s situation, General Fuller remaining frustratingly mum on the subject despite Boss’s dozens of phone calls demanding answers. Then, last Friday, Fuller finally called to say Rock and Dunn were being released, and Donna Ward was undergoing psychological evaluation pending release while her accomplice at the CIA was stripped of all titles and security clearances.

“It’s been decided by the powers that be,” Boss had informed the group, and he’d been talking about the powers that be, “that it would be too damaging to the reputation of the intelligence community to hold trials, thereby dragging into the light the origins of The Project and the CIA’s initial involvement in said scheme.”

“And Billingsworth?” Ozzie had asked.

“A casualty of the system,” was Boss’s terse reply. “His murder is officially listed as unsolved.”

Which Vanessa felt was a grave injustice, but she’d worked for the government too long to really be surprised.

Rock’s name had been cleared of any wrongdoing, his record once again lily white. Dunn had been instructed to return to his job at the FBI as if nothing had happened. And Donna Ward? Well, Vanessa had hoped like hell that psychological evaluation proved her unfit to reenter society whereby she’d be confined to a psych ward for life.

Only, according to the news report, at some point she must’ve been released.

“…late last night. And it appears Dr. Dunn and former CIA agent, Dennis Wheeler, were both shot in the back of the skull at close range before their assailant, an as yet unidentified man, turned the gun on himself,” the pretty blond-haired news reporter was saying. “Local police suspect—”

Vanessa’s heart sunk. “Unidentified man? Who is she talking about?”

Though Rock had been released, he hadn’t returned home. Instead, he’d called Boss to say he planned to return to Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana, claiming he needed some time to clear his head. But Vanessa suspected he’d gone back to visit his parents’ and Lacy’s graves. After all that’d happened, all the twists and turns his life had taken due to the events surrounding their deaths, she figured he was seeking some perspective.

But could he have decided Donna Ward and the CIA agent needed to be—

No. Rock isn’t the killing kind, she assured herself. And he’s certainly not the kind to turn his weapon on himself.

Then a lightbulb blinked on over her head, and she answered her own question. “It’s Dunn, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Boss nodded. He was standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed, legs splayed, and he didn’t look away from the television screen when he added, “I figure it’s Dunn.”

“Jesus,” Vanessa whispered and realized her vocabulary needed some work. She’d used that same expletive three times in as many minutes.

“Jonathan Dunn could live with being a killer,” Becky mused, sidling up beside Boss, sliding an arm around his waist. “But he couldn’t live with being a murderer. And he couldn’t let the woman and man who’d turned him into a murderer live either. It’s so…so senseless and sad.”

“I’d say you’re right,” Boss agreed, bending to place a kiss by her temple. “On all fronts.”

Vanessa had to turn away. Ever since Rock left, Boss and Becky’s obvious love for one another, not to mention their overt affection, well…she was ashamed to say it got to her. Reminding her of everything she’d hoped to have and everything she’d lost when she’d gone all-in with Rock.

“Hey,” Steady whispered, coming to throw an arm over her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze even as he handed her a mug of steaming, so-thick-it’d-stand-up-on-its-own coffee, “you okay?”

And there they were again, the kid gloves…

Geez, she was a real piece of work. A real piece of sorry, lowdown, heartsick work.

“I guess you probably already know the answer to that,” she told him, taking the coffee, inhaling the dark, rich aroma. She didn’t have an ounce of pride left after that show she’d put on down in the chopper shop, so there was no use lying.

Julie Ann Walker's Books