Page 25 of Dark ’N’ Deadly

“How far is it to Flemington?” she asked.

“We’re in Flemington.” He slowed the Chevy Tahoe—his personal vehicle—as they neared a stop sign. “I live on the outskirts of town.”

“Didn’t know New Jersey had so many trees,” Jesse said from the seat behind them. “Figured it only had factories, oil refineries, and smokestacks puking out pollution.”

Eric laughed, a deep rumbly sound she was coming to enjoy. “We’ve got those, too, but this is God’s country here in western Jersey. It’s a well-kept secret.”

It’s not the only well-kept secret.

After the phone call she’d received that morning, she again questioned the wisdom of keeping things from Eric, because the number that had popped up on her screen—

Was my stepfather’s.

It had been ten years since she’d seen his number. Thinking about it twisted her stomach into a knot so tight it actually hurt.

The man was pure evil.

Being a boy, Jesse had been of value to him, but she’d practically been a slave. If she hadn’t escaped, the horrible things that would have happened to her on her eighteenth birthday…

This is the right decision.

If they told Eric everything, he’d be obligated to inform the prosecutor, and the government would demand even more of her and Jesse’s cooperation. There was no telling where it would end. Their names might become public, and if he ever found out about Jesse’s arrest, there would be consequences. Like Jesse said, their stepfather would surely kill him, and neither of them wanted to go into witness protection.

As Eric turned onto yet another back road lined with more trees than she could count, she shuddered.

“Cold?” Without waiting for an answer, he adjusted the vent away from her. “Better?”

She nodded. Not by a long shot. It would never be better, and now things were worse. Her world was about to tilt on its axis. There was no way her stepfather could have gotten her number unless Jesse had given it to him, but her brother swore he hadn’t done that, and she believed him. Unfortunately, he’d also confirmed something else.

Their stepfather paid the bills for Jesse’s phone, which meant he had access to her brother’s toll records and could see every number he called. Including hers. Then it had hit her—the absolute horror of her mistake.

Since their stepfather had access to Jesse’s cell phone account, he could log into it from any computer and track the phone’s location using a locator app most cell phones came pre-installed with. She never would have known about the app until she’d lost her phone and Nick had helped her find it using that same app. The only way to block someone from tracking Jesse’s phone was to either power it off or deactivate location services.

Since Eric had warned Jesse to leave the phone on at all times, shutting it off wasn’t an option, so she’d deactivated location services. But that had been less than an hour ago.

She tightened her arms around her waist. Was I too late?

Ditching the phone entirely would have been the best course of action, but they couldn’t risk it. The controlled delivery had to happen, or her brother wouldn’t stand a chance of working off the charges. That phone’s number was the same one Jesse’s New Jersey contact would be calling him back on, and she didn’t have the money to buy Jesse a new phone and have the number transferred. Nor could she reasonably explain to Eric why she’d done that.

Although she’d altered the settings on her brother’s phone as quickly as possible, what if their stepfather had already tracked it when Jesse had been in the federal courthouse?

What if he tracked it to Eric’s house? In which case, was Eric in danger? Were they all in danger?

There’d been no voicemail message on her phone. Her stepfather never left messages. If anyone wanted to speak with him, they always had to do it in person.

To stop her hands from shaking again, she clasped her arms tighter around her body. Fear of seeing that man again could do that to her, and he was a thousand miles away. She’d worked so hard to put that part of her life behind her. Only now was she finally starting to become the person she wanted to be and have hope of finding the kind of life she’d always dreamed of.

Five minutes later, they turned onto Main Street and she sat up straighter to take it all in.

On their right was the most beautiful stone church she’d ever seen. Immediately after that, perched in a triangular patch of grass surrounded by low black fencing was a memorial—Soldiers Monument—complete with an old black cannon. As they continued into the heart of the town, her somber mood fled, replaced by burgeoning excitement.

Both sides of the streets were lined with antique stores and every kind of novelty shop a girl could ask for. Collectibles and crafts of all kinds. Homemade ice cream and fudge. Cute little restaurants and a brewery. The sidewalk bustled with people, and she couldn’t wait to get out and walk into each and every store. This was exactly the kind of town she imagined opening her own place in one day. It made her blood sizzle with anticipation.

Eric parallel parked in front of the old Hunterdon County Courthouse, a magnificent yellow building with enormous white columns. Across from the courthouse was an equally impressive four-story red brick building with elaborate green-and-cream gingerbread railings and covered porches. The Union Hotel.

Eric finished parking then pointed to the courthouse. “That’s where Bruno Hauptmann was tried and convicted for his role in the Lindbergh baby kidnapping. And that,” he added, pointing across the street to the hotel, “is where all the reporters and onlookers stayed during the trial.”

“This place is beautiful.” Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she jumped out of the Tahoe and did a three-sixty. The temperature was warm, but not too warm, and she was eager to start exploring.