Tilly went on to say that Leanna had admitted that she knew about the killer who was taking out all of the daughters of Gerald Johnson as he believed most of them had serious mental problems. He was intent on protecting his family name and made up an elaborate plan to take care of the problem. He also had a personal vendetta against Kacey and Leanna because he’d fallen for Leanna, not knowing who she was, and he’d despised Kacey as well for being born to Gerald’s mistress. He had bad feelings for Robert Lindley, too, but until he’d eradicated all of the “Unknowings” as he’d called them, he would take his time with Robert.
During the recitation Kacey recalled Cameron’s taunts after he’d hit her with the rifle butt. He’d believed she and Leanna and the rest of Gerald’s female offspring weren’t mentally sound when his own mental illness was the reason he’d targeted all of them.
Tilly wound up by adding that Cameron had admitted his deadly deeds to Leanna when he’d tried to kill her years before, but she’d gotten away and found Trace. She’d left her son with Trace fearing Cameron would take his sick vengeance upon Eli. But her fear for Eli was the reason she came back, to save the boy everyone assumed she’d abandoned and to stop Cameron in his tracks.
“We were horrified,” Tilly finished. “And trapped. We wanted Eli to be safe, but we were worried sick about you all. Ed even tried to start the old John Deere in hopes of getting to the Foxx’s, our neighbors to the north and calling the police.”
“Dang thing wouldn’t even turn over in the cold,” Ed admitted. Both he and his wife looked worn out and beleaguered.
Pescoli returned with Eli who was interested in poking at the fake marshmallows floating in his hot chocolate. She also brought several cups of steaming coffee. Kacey took one, more for the warmth than anything else.
She turned to Ed and Tilly, softly asking the question that was now haunting her, “So . . . Eli is Cameron’s son?”
“Not according to her. She was very adamant on that,” Tilly said and Ed nodded his agreement.
“I’m my dad’s son,” Eli put in, blowing across his cocoa.
“Of course you are.” Kacey walked across the room and hugged him fiercely, sorry he’d overheard her; she’d thought he was out of earshot. She was so glad that he was safe. She would have to deal with his questions about his mother, she knew that, but she was willing to do it; to be with him and to be with Trace. Her feelings about Leanna were torn, but she couldn’t deny that the woman had sacrificed herself for the sake of her son.
Alvarez’s cell phone jangled and she looked at the screen. “I’ve got to take this,” she said, before walking into an adjoining room.
She was gone about ten minutes and when she returned, she said. “Looks like we can convict Cameron Johnson for more crimes than we know. The team who went to his house found a secret room down in the basement. There are pictures of the victims, information about each of them, many already dead, some who escaped.”
Kacey thought of Gloria Sanders-O’Malley, the fitness instructor.
“I’m going to have to call Jonas Hayes in L.A.,” Alvarez said to Pescoli. “I think we can tie Cam Johnson to Shelly Bonaventure’s supposed suicide.”
“He was the creep who attacked me in Seattle,” Kacey said. “He admitted as much.” She sighed and shook her head. “If we’re done here, can I get a ride to the hospital?”
Pescoli nodded. “I’ll drive.”
Turning to Eli, Kacey said with a smile, “Come on. Let’s go see your dad.”
As it turned out, Kacey wasn’t alone in wanting to go to the hospital. Pescoli a
nd Alvarez planned to question Trace when he woke up and Ed and Tilly, though tired, drove to St. Bart’s as well.
But being back in the familiar hospital halls was a little surreal for Kacey. Though everything looked the way it had the last time she’d been here, after all she’d been through, it seemed different. Changed. She told herself that it was because of the fact she’d been hit in the back of the head with the butt of a rifle, but it was more, a deeper disconnect that all had to do with meeting a murderer face-to-face and killing him. Though she felt no regret for taking Cameron Johnson’s life as he’d intended to murder Trace, she still felt out of step. She’d dedicated her professional life to helping heal, to save lives, and now she’d purposefully taken one.
Shake it off, she told herself and after leaving a protesting Eli with Tilly and Ed, made her way to the Recovery Room as she was a doctor on staff. Alvarez and Pescoli were right behind her, but hung back to give her a second’s privacy when she headed to the bed where Trace lay.
He was just coming around and woozy, his leg bandaged, his hospital gown askew. His leg had been saved, the femoral artery nicked but repaired. He moaned, his head dark against the white sheets. He blinked slowly awake.
“Hey, there,” she said, leaning over his bed as the Recovery Room nurse stepped away to allow them some privacy.
With obvious effort, he tried to focus.
“It’s me.” She took his hand and her heart squeezed at the sight of him, his hair rumpled on the pillow, his jaw dark with beard shadow. God, she loved him and for a few harrowing minutes she’d thought she’d lost him forever. “Trace?”
One side of his mouth lifted in a dopey grin, but his eyes were far from clear. “Kacey?” he said, his voice rough.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Her throat nearly closed as his grip tightened over hers.
“Eli?” he whispered.
“He’s fine.” Tears burned the back of her eyes. “And he’s here, waiting to see you. He’s with the Zukovs, just down the hall.”
He seemed relieved, then goofy again. “Oh. Tilly. Ed.”