Let It Burn (The Barrington Billionaires Book 4) Page 8

  “Not exactly. He said it was his fault.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “That’s not the same.”

  To me it is. I carry the guilt of those who died because of my mistake. I killed them just as surely as if I’d rigged the box myself.

  She pushed, “How? How did he say he caused it?”

  “He didn’t. He just said he was sorry. We didn’t have a long heart-to-heart over it. He said he was in danger and begged me to take you back to Florida. You know the rest because you showed up.”

  She turned to face away from him, shaking her head. “Whatever happened to your brother was an accident. My uncle might feel guilty about it, but he would never do anything to harm anyone.”

  “I’m not so sure about that, Helene. A lot of people disappeared after my brother died. Their names are listed in my aunt’s journal.”

  “Then maybe your aunt killed them, but my uncle never would.” She brought a trembling hand up to her lips. “If my uncle was that horrible a person he wouldn’t be afraid, would he? But if he’s afraid, he’s innocent.”

  “I don’t know that one proves the other.”

  “It does to me. Take me to the clinic and I’ll prove to you that my uncle did nothing wrong. I know where the records from that year are kept. They’re all in boxes in the back of the file room. My uncle said he was looking for them, but he didn’t know where they were. We could bring them to him, and he could prove his innocence.”

  “He made it sound like whoever was coming for him might come soon.”

  Her teary eyes flew to his. “And you left him?”

  Andrew growled defensively, “He had just said he killed my brother.”

  “No, he didn’t. He never said those words.”

  Andrew threw up his hands. “I give up. You want to stay and try to clear your uncle’s name? Fine. You’ll probably get him killed, along with you and me, but you know what? At this point, you’re probably doing us all a favor.” He opened the passenger door again. “Get in.”

  “Why?”

  He left her there by the open door and walked around to the driver’s side. “We can walk to the clinic if you want, but driving is faster.”

  She hastily climbed in the passenger seat and buckled herself in. “The files will clear everything up. You’ll see.”

  He watched her muster a brave face, and his heart pounded loudly in his chest. She remained loyal to her uncle even through this shitstorm. Outside of the Corps, he couldn’t remember ever having that kind of faith in anyone or anyone having that kind of faith in him. He wanted her to find something to clear her uncle, but he didn’t believe for a second that she would.

  Still, that didn’t stop him from starting the car and heading toward the clinic.

  Chapter Eight

  Helene used her name tag to open the front door of the clinic. The night security man recognized her and stood. “Ms. Franklin, I wasn’t expecting anyone tonight.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to be here.” She spoke quickly thinking that everything would go a lot smoother if Andrew said as little as possible. “We were having dinner when my uncle realized he’d forgotten a box of old files he wanted to read through to decide if they should be shredded or added to the database. It could have waited until tomorrow, but you know my uncle. He likes things done right now. Family. They can’t fire you, but you can’t say no either, so here we are.” She shot him a bright smile that softened the other man’s expression.

  “Of course. Tell me if you need me to help carry the box.”

  Helene linked her arm with Andrew and gave him a tug. “I brought my own muscle, thanks.”

  As she and Andrew walked down the hallway, Andrew whistled in appreciation. “You lie like a pro.”

  She shrugged and, not wanting to draw attention from the security guard, forced herself to walk slowly. “I may not have traveled much, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. It’s not like I could hide a year’s worth of files under my shirt.”

  “I never said you were an idiot.”

  “You don’t have to. I see it in your eyes. You think you’re smarter than I am. You’re not. And I’m going to prove it to you.”

  She could have sworn she heard him say, “I hope you do,” but she wasn’t sure. She told herself that his opinion of her was insignificant in the face of everything going on. I should have told him I could do this part alone. She had a feeling, though, he wouldn’t have listened to her anyway.

  He followed her through her office to the file room. She went straight to where she’d stacked the old file boxes. Since she hadn’t known how to do much when she’d first started working in the records department, she’d spent a good chunk of time in the beginning simply organizing. The boxes before her were completely out of order and some were shoved sideways as if someone had returned them to the pile in a hurry. She looked for the boxes that would have been full of files from the year Andrew’s brother died but didn’t see them.

  “They have to be here,” she said, starting from one end of the pile of boxes and going over them again. “All of the other years are here. I don’t remember any missing.”

  Andrew kept his silence beside her.

  The sound of her office door opening and closing made Helene swing around. Andrew withdrew behind a stack of files and pulled his gun. He motioned for Helene to call out.

  “Hello?” Helene said nervously. “Is someone there?”

  The security guard appeared in the doorway. “Just me. I wanted to make sure you were able to get into the file room.”

  Helene forced a smile. “I did. Thank you.”

  The guard looked around. “Is your friend still with you?”

  Andrew tucked his gun away again, quickly undid the buttons of his shirt, and mussed his hair before stepping out from behind the files. His grin was sheepishly guilty. He made a show of buttoning his shirt. “I am.”

  “Oh,” the guard said and cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll be at my desk if you have trouble locking up.”

  Helene met Andrew’s eyes and understood how his ruse might buy them a cover story for being there longer. “Please don’t tell my uncle.”

  “Of course,” the guard said and turned on his heel, leaving with a haste that implied he wished he hadn’t checked on them.

  When he was gone, Helene returned to hunting for the box. Thanks to Dr. Gunder, everyone at the clinic already thought she was sleeping with Andrew. Her reputation there was also the least of her worries. After checking and rechecking the pile, she hunted through the more recent files. Eventually she stopped and went to her computer. She searched every area of the database for anything about the Barringtons, but there was nothing. Eventually she asked, “What was the name of the nurse you were looking for?”

  “Pamela Thorsen.”

  “Nothing. There’s nothing here about your family or her. Do you have any of the other names?”

  He named two doctors, the one who delivered the babies and another who was on duty that night, but she couldn’t find them either. Remembering what her uncle had said about not all the files being uploaded to the new database, she retrieved paper copies of random files from the years before and after. Everything from those files was in the database. Everything. She finally stopped typing in names and simply looked across at Andrew in confusion. “I don’t understand. It’s like your family was never here. There’s no record of anyone you’re looking for either. Are you sure you have the names right?”

  “As certain as I am of anything in this mess.”

  “Someone is covering their tracks, erasing everything from that time.”

  “It looks that way.”

  “We have to tell my uncle.”

  Andrew crossed his arms across his chest. “I’m sure he knows.”

  Helene stood. “You think he’s responsible?”

  Andrew looked skyward as if appealing for help. “You don’t?”

  Anger swept through Helene. Andrew didn’t know her uncle. He didn’t k
now anything about him. She pushed past him and walked out of her office without bothering to close or lock any of the doors behind her. Andrew fell into step beside her. “Where are you going?”

  She didn’t answer him. She strode up to the security guard’s desk and plastered a huge smile on her face. “You’re not going to believe this, but I think someone already picked up the files we need. My uncle must have asked someone else to get them. Do you remember anyone leaving with a box of files recently?”

  The guard shrugged. “No, but I work nights mostly.”

  She bit her bottom lip and feigned a pout. “My uncle will be so upset with me if I tell him I don’t know where those files are. Is there anyone who would know?”

  Andrew stepped forward. “Or is there a camera outside the office that you could review the footage?”

  The guard reluctantly looked at the control panel in front of him. “How far back would I have to search?”

  “Start with today,” Andrew said smoothly.

  “It’s really important,” Helene pleaded softly.

  Grudgingly the guard pressed a few buttons and called up the feed from that camera. He scanned backward from their arrival and stopped. “I think I found it.” He bent to study the video closer. “It looks like Dr. Stiles left with a box of something around seven.”

  Helene leaned over the counter. He had to be mistaken. “Are you sure? Are you sure it’s my uncle?”

  The guard gave her a look. “I would hope I can recognize the man who signs my paychecks.”

  Shock mixed with confusion and Helene swayed on her feet. Andrew put his hand on Helene’s arm to pull her back from the guard’s station. “Don’t you hate when messages get confused? Helene, he probably told you that you don’t have to pick up those files. You need to pay better attention.”

  “I guess,” she said slowly, still trying to absorb the fact that her uncle had been late to dinner because he’d been at the clinic removing old files. He hadn’t brought them with him into the house. Had he planned to? Was there a chance that he’d taken the files with the intention of showing them to Andrew?

  Andrew began to lead her away and she stumbled. He placed his arm around her and said goodnight to the guard as they left the clinic.

  My uncle took the files. Did he also wipe the computer? Why? What is he so afraid of?

  She allowed Andrew to guide her back to his car and buckle her in. He didn’t start the engine, though. He simply waited, looking at her with a mix of pity and something else in his eyes.

  “Where’s my phone?” she asked. He turned, found her purse in the backseat of his car, then handed it to her. She took out her phone and brought up her uncle’s number. “I need to talk to him. If he took the files it was for a good reason. You’ll see. We’ll sit down with him, talk it out.” She angrily used the back of her hands to brush the tears away from her cheeks. “He didn’t kill your brother. I know he didn’t. But he may be in some kind of trouble. If he is, will you help me help him?”

  She hated that she had to ask anyone, never mind Andrew, for help, but her heart broke imagining her kind uncle alone and scared. No person, or creature, deserved that.

  When Andrew didn’t answer her, she turned in her seat to face him. “Please.”

  He started his car and ground the gears as he pulled out onto the road. She took his response as a yes and said, “I’m going to call him now, but head back to his house.”

  Andrew drove without giving any indication that he’d heard her, but when they came to the turn that would lead them back to her uncle’s he took it.

  With hands that were shaking so much she almost dropped her phone, Helene called her uncle and held her breath while it rang several times.

  As they drove toward Stiles’s home, Andrew reflected on what he’d said to her when she’d asked to be taken to the clinic. He’d said that she was probably going to get them all killed but that she’d probably be doing them all a favor. He glanced at the woman beside him. His gut twisted painfully at the idea of losing her. She not only had the fight of a Marine, but the loyalty of one, too. She had to be afraid, but she wasn’t giving in to it. When he’d first met her he would have said it was because she was too innocent to comprehend the real danger they might be putting themselves in, but that wasn’t it. She genuinely loved her uncle, and she wasn’t leaving without him.

  He wanted to grab the phone out of her hand, because he had a sinking feeling that when she spoke to her uncle her love for him would be tested in a whole new way. Stiles was an unknown risk Andrew wanted to forbid Helene to open herself up to, but there were some things in life that even a Marine couldn’t protect someone from. She could no more walk away from her uncle than Andrew could have walked away from a firefight.

  Her dedication to her family brought Andrew’s emotions to the surface. He realized he might have a second chance at his life. Exercising had brought his body back into shape, but it hadn’t lifted the numbness that had made him indifferent toward his own survival. He hadn’t gotten as far as holding a gun to his head, but he’d understood how a man could, and it hadn’t scared him. He’d already felt mostly dead.

  No matter what happened, he knew his life would forever be different because he’d met the woman beside him. She reminded him that true courage started in the heart; it was born in believing. She looked down at her phone; her uncle hadn’t answered her call.

  Her eyes flew to his and her tears returned. “He might not be near his phone.”

  Andrew reached out and took one of her hands in his, giving it a squeeze. For her, he would try to believe in possibilities. “Call again.”

  She sniffed, nodded, and did. This time her uncle did answer. She put him on speakerphone. “Uncle Clarence, are you at the house? We’re driving back for you. You’re not alone. We’ll figure this out together.”

  “Where is Andrew?” her uncle asked hurriedly.

  “He’s beside me,” she said, squeezing Andrew’s hand. “He’s willing to help you, too.”

  “Put him on the phone.”

  “He can hear you,” Helene said.

  “You should both be in the air by now. Why aren’t you?” Stiles asked in a tight voice.

  Years of taking orders made Andrew pause before he answered, but there was no chain of command here. “Your niece isn’t quite as helpless as you seem to think she is. There was no way to take her without hurting her.”

  Helene chimed in, “We just left the clinic. I know you took files from it. Is someone blackmailing you? What kind of trouble are you in?”

  “The clinic?” Stiles asked, his voice rising as he spoke. “You were supposed to be gone. Oh, my God. I can’t go back now. Where are you?”

  “We’re almost at your house,” Andrew answered. It was only then he noticed the street was blocked off and smoke was billowing up into the night sky.

  “I’m not there,” Stiles said in a high pitch. “You can’t be there, either. Helene, all that matters now is your safety. Get out of Aruba. Now.”

  Andrew pulled over to the side of the road and instantly regretted that he had because Helene bolted out of the car and rushed down the street toward the emergency vehicles and fire trucks. He heard her cry out, “Your house is on fire.”

  “Andrew,” Stiles yelled, “get her out of there.”

  “Who did this?” she asked from the middle of the road about one hundred yards away from the action.

  “Your uncle set the fire. Didn’t you, Stiles?” Andrew barked the question. “You’re destroying the evidence against you.”

  With huge eyes, Helene looked from the burning house, to the phone, to Andrew, and back at the house. “What did you do, Uncle Clarence? What did you do?”

  Her uncle’s voice broke. “I was young, scared, and didn’t understand that when you make a deal with the devil it’s forever. You won’t hear from me after today, Helene. I have to disappear, or you’ll never be safe. Everything that’s burning in the fire had to disappear, too. Wa
lk away from all of this. Go home. Tell no one about what you think happened here. Every single person you tell is someone you make a target. This is bigger than you know. Don’t ask questions. Go home. Now.”

  Helene shook her head vehemently. “You didn’t kill anyone. I won’t let you destroy the proof that could clear you.” She took a step toward the house, but Andrew grabbed her arm.

  “Andrew, get her out of there. Helene, remember that I love you.” With that, he hung up.

  Helene tried to rip her arm away from Andrew, but he held her. “We have to go in there. There might be something left that will help him.”

  The woman beside him faded away, and for a moment Andrew was back in Iraq. Three of his Marines had just headed into a building to pick up a crate Colonel Ahearn had sent them for. One last mission before their tour ended and they headed home. Andrew was on watch on the street. He heard the explosion as if he were actually back in that horrifying moment. He was once again radioing in the incident, rushing into the building, coughing as the smoke burned at his throat. He fought to put out the flames that stood between him and the men he considered family. He hadn’t allowed himself the luxury of feeling anything when he realized all three of them had fallen because the crate had been booby-trapped. There was no need to check if they were alive, the damage to each was irreversible. He assessed the dispersed contents of the box as he mentally planned how many trips it would take to get all three bodies back to his vehicle before the fire overtook them. It appeared to be a pilot seat from a MiG, which he left for last. By the time he went back for it, the room had been engulfed in flames and all he could do was watch it burn. A part of him had known the truth that day but hadn’t been willing to accept it. He’d gone back to his Hummer, looked down at the tarp he’d covered the bodies of his friends with, and, on the inside at least, died along with them.

  Helene’s struggling brought him partially back to the present.

  “Let me go,” she demanded.

  The past was just as much a part of that moment as her uncle’s burning house. His hand bit into her arm. She wasn’t going anywhere near that building. “No.”