All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel (26 page)

“Good. I’m glad you’re not going to pretend you don’t know what happens next. That makes it easier for both of us.”

“Just tell me why. You’re my brother, for God’s sake.”

“Half brother. No one asked me if I wanted a baby sister following me around, competing for Dad’s attention. I think Dad left the house the minute you were born. When your mother passed away, someone had to take care of you. You always looked up to me like I could do anything. I tried to be a good big brother, Cara. It wasn’t my fault everything changed.”

“I don’t understand, Brian. What changed?”

“They threatened Kathy. It’s either you or her. I have no choice—I have to protect her.”

“Who threatened her? We can help you. You don’t have to do this.”

“I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, any one of which would land me in jail. Tell me, sis, if I go to jail, who keeps them from getting to my wife then?”

“I will. I’ll keep her safe.”

Brian laughed. “Right. Who’s your friend, Cara? I figured you had some help in Lincoln City.”

She glanced at Walker, who cocked his head slightly to the left—toward Charlie’s office. A kernel of hope took root. Joe was hearing every word they said.

“No introductions? Oh well. It doesn’t matter. Take him downstairs and wait for me. I’ll deal with him later.” Brian motioned his men forward. One of them took the gun from the holster beneath Walker’s jacket. The other shoved him toward the door. Walker tripped and fell against her.

“The code!” he whispered as he clung to her.

“Three-two-seven-six,” she replied in a barely audible voice just before the man shoved Walker roughly away and out into the hall.

She wasn’t really alone with Walker gone, but she was still terrified. Joe was right next door. Ty and Rayna would be on their way in. They wouldn’t let her or Walker die—if they could help it. The coldness in her brother’s eyes stole what little hope she had.

“It was supposed to be a nice, clean suicide in Lincoln City. Despondent woman, upset over her recent divorce, washes up on the beach. End of story. You managed to live through that, but you’ve only delayed the inevitable.” Brian motioned her toward the door. “Let’s go. Can’t have you committing suicide here in the plant. Might attract the Feds.”

“Stall him, Cara.” Joe’s voice in her ear startled her, but she coughed and recovered quickly.

“You’ve already attracted the attention of the Feds. Who do you think I’m working for?”

Surprise registered on her brother’s face for an instant before he scowled. “Did you know Charlie Dugan was investigating us?”

“Yes. For the ATF. How long did you think you could get away with selling illegal weapons?”

“So you gave that lousy Fed information? How could you turn against your own brother?”

“Half brother.” Her voice shook with the scorn and fury that gripped her. “Do you hear yourself? How could you kill Charlie or hire someone to kill me? How could you think it was all right to sell automatic weapons to murderers in third-world countries? For that matter, how could you possibly think it was okay to steal from our father’s company?”

“You are well informed, aren’t you? You don’t get it, do you? This is all your fault.”

“My fault?”

Brian paused, listening to something outside the office. Cara heard it too. The elevator had reached the lower level and immediately started back up.

“What the hell?” Brian said.

“Distract him, Cara.” Joe’s voice in her ear. “I’m right outside.”

She inadvertently glanced toward the hallway. Brian caught the direction of her gaze and must have guessed what it meant. He smiled and stepped behind the door, his gun trained on the opening. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, sis?”

“Has your paranoia gotten so bad you’ve taken to hiding behind doors now?”

“Nice, Cara, you’re doing great.” Joe’s voice again. “Stay back away from the door.”

The elevator stopped on their floor and the doors slid open. Brian slammed the office door shut and locked it. He turned to face her, determination in his cold, gray eyes. He raised the 357 Sig and pointed it at her.

“Guess I’ll have to settle for an accidental shooting. It will be my word against theirs.”

He was going to kill her—the brother she’d grown up with and loved. She’d held out hope until this instant there was still some good in him, but it vanished in a heartbeat. Knowing her life depended on what she did in the next few seconds, she raised her chin in defiance and looked him in the eye then dove behind the desk.

On her knees, head low, Cara struggled to get the knife from beneath her dress, ripped it from the scabbard, and jumped back to her feet. Brian swung the gun barrel toward her. She drew back her arm and hurled the blade with all her strength. At the last moment he twisted his upper body. The knife missed his chest and stuck with a thud in his right arm. His hand jerked in the same instant he pulled the trigger.

The bullet struck her left shoulder, blowing her back against the wall like a rag doll. Brian, clutching his wounded arm to his side, walked toward her still holding the 9mm level.

The door splintered and slammed back against the wall. “Sinclair!” Joe roared. Large-caliber gunfire reverberated in the room, but for some reason she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Something heavy hit the floor near her.

Then… silence.

Friday, 10:11 am

“W
E NEED TO
get her to a hospital, Joe,” Walker said.

“We’re taking her to Kalispell.”

“She’s lost a lot of blood. She’ll go into shock.”

“Stop the bleeding. This is Dennelli’s town. The sooner we get her out of here, the better.”

Joe hated himself right now. He should have moved faster. He should have stayed with her. He should have stood his ground with Murphy. He screwed up all the way around, but he wasn’t going to do it again. Her wound wasn’t life threatening, as long as they controlled the bleeding and kept her from going into shock.

When he saw her on the floor in the corner of the office, pale, not moving, blood everywhere, he thought she was dead. He came so close to losing it before Walker found her pulse. She hovered on the edge of consciousness, but Joe couldn’t tell if she recognized him. It would be best if she was out of it for a while. She was going to hurt like hell soon enough.

Murphy arrived within minutes, and now there were ATF agents everywhere. Joe took the notebook from Sinclair’s lifeless fingers and handed it to him. “I hope this is worth it.”

Murphy was doing everything he could to accommodate Joe’s needs, even putting his chopper at their disposal to get Cara to the airstrip as soon as she was stabilized. He couldn’t fault Murphy for the way he was handling this, but Joe was furious. Everyone scrambled to stay out of his way.

Walker looked up from the floor. “Okay, I’ve stopped the bleeding. The bullet went clear through. She’s stable, but we need to move.”

Joe knelt down beside her and brushed his hand along her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled weakly. It didn’t last. Her face contorted with pain. She gritted her teeth and grabbed the edges of his jacket in her fists.

“She needs morphine,” Joe said over his shoulder.

“Take it easy. I’ve got it right here.” Murphy knelt beside him and slid a needle into the muscle of her right arm. When he stood, he handed the metal container with the rest of his syringes to Walker. “Try not to give her anymore, but if you have to…”

Walker nodded.

She relaxed within seconds. The morphine left her eyes glazed and empty. Joe scooped her up against his chest and started for the chopper. Walker went ahead, clearing a path. Murphy trailed along behind. Walker jumped aboard and Joe handed Cara to him, then climbed in and reclaimed her, holding her on his lap.

“How… bad… is it?” Her voice faded.

“You’re going to be good as new.” Joe smiled.

“Brian?” It was barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry.” He was surprised he meant it. Not because Sinclair deserved any less than he got, but because it was one more thing to hurt her.

She closed her eyes again, and a single tear ran down her cheek. He brushed it away tenderly.

At the airstrip, the chopper set down right beside the waiting jet. They loaded up and took off in less than ten minutes.

“We have to get her feet up and keep her warm to minimize shock,” Walker said.

They placed her on blankets on the floor toward the back of the plane. Joe covered her with more blankets, and Walker propped her legs up on pillows. Joe sat on the floor beside her. Rayna took a seat nearby, staring at Cara’s pale features. Ty and Walker took turns walking by to check on her. With everyone on this plane pulling for her, she had to get better. Didn’t she? Joe tried to remember what his life had been like before she exploded into it.

Forty-five minutes into the flight, she stirred and her eyes opened.

“Welcome back, Party Girl,” Joe said when her gaze finally focused on him. “Are you comfortable?”

“Cold.” Her whisper caused a flurry of activity as his three trained soldiers hustled to find her another blanket. Rayna finally handed him one. He leaned over Cara, tucking it around her carefully.

“I’ll have Murphy send you somewhere tropical first. Switzerland could be on the cold side.”

She frowned as she pulled her right hand from the blankets. Ignoring his protest, she reached for him. He wrapped both of his hands around her icy cold one.

“What… would you say… if I told you… I don’t want to go?”

He hesitated, weighing his words carefully. “I’d say that’s probably the morphine talking.”

She frowned again. “I sound perfectly… lucid to me.”

“I’m not sure you’re the best judge of that right now.”

“I’ll… tell you later then. Any idea when you might… take me seriously?”

He wanted her to stay so damn bad it hurt, but he couldn’t allow her to make a decision that important when she might not remember it tomorrow. He looked away. He was afraid, even strung out on drugs, she’d see the desperation in his eyes. Finally, he met her gaze. “If you say that again after we’re home, I’m holding you to it. Now, get back under the blankets—before I crawl under there with you.” He leaned close to tuck the blankets around her again.

“You smell good…” Her eyes fell shut.

He sat back and shook his head. “Damn, Cara… as usual, your timing sucks.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Friday, 11:56 am

A
S A TEENAGER,
Cara spent all her time with guns. In morbid fascination, she wondered what it would feel like to be shot. The horror she imagined back then paled in contrast to reality. Her whole body went numb on impact, but all too soon her torn and ravaged nerve endings came awake with excruciating pain. She held her breath and clamped her lips tightly to keep from screaming Joe’s name… or maybe she did.

“I’m here, Cara.” His voice came from far away, yet when she peered through eyelids too heavy to open all the way, he was right beside her, concern etching deep furrows in his brow. God, it hurt, but the words she struggled to tell him couldn’t escape her gritted teeth. Somehow he knew, and it must have been him who made the pain go away. Every time after that when she opened her eyes, he sat beside her looking worried and haggard.

Everyone spoke in hushed tones, but it was too much effort to open her eyes. Was she dying? She tried to ask, but her tongue wouldn’t cooperate, and Joe laughed softly. What the hell did she say, anyway? Oh, forget it… she was too tired to deal with it now.

Arms encircled her, lifting, and she forced her eyes open enough to glimpse his face as he carried her effortlessly from the plane to the Hummer. He wore that same concerned look. Maybe she was dying.

“Home yet?” Her words slurred badly, and she tried again. “Are we… home yet?”

“We just landed in Kalispell. We’ll be at the hospital in five minutes. How bad is the pain?” He slid into the backseat and settled her in his lap.

“Hospital…? Why?”

“You were wounded. We have to get you to a hospital so they can patch you up.”

“Then can… I go home?” Sleep—safe and warm in her room. That was what she needed. Didn’t he know?

“As soon as the doctor says it’s okay, I’ll take you home.”

Something else niggled at her brain and made her uneasy. What was it? Suddenly, she jerked her head up and focused on his face. “Walker? Is he all right?”

“He’s fine, although pretty upset with me right now.”

“Why?”

Walker’s voice reached her from the front seat. “Joe flew you halfway across the country before he found a hospital he was satisfied you’d be safe in.”

He was okay. She shivered with the relief that coursed through her.

“Nice job with the knife, Cara. That throw probably saved your life.”

Joe’s jaw clenched.

“Don’t blame yourself,” she whispered. He looked away from her. Cara laid her head on his chest again, comforted by the steady rhythm of his heart. Surely his strength was the only thing keeping her here. Soon her eyes closed again.

Friday, 5:37 pm

C
ARA SQUINTED AGAINST
the bright light. Where was she? Machines surrounded the bed she lay in, a few beeping, all attached to her in some way. A hospital? Why couldn’t she remember? It was impossible to move, and her left shoulder seemed heavy and thick with bandages. Was she hurt? Shouldn’t she feel something? She squeezed her eyes closed. Think. How did she get here? Her eyes flew open again. Joe. He carried her… because… she’d been shot?
Oh God… Brian
. She held her breath while memories washed over her.

She was terrified when the doctor told her she was going into surgery. Joe never left her side. With his calm, sure strength he took her hands and looked into her eyes. “Don’t be afraid, Cara. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His absolute confidence left no room for doubt, but she couldn’t bear to release his hand as they wheeled her gurney toward the operating room. His face, smiling down at her, was the last thing she remembered.

Now, her gaze moved around the room until she saw him standing by the window, one arm braced against the casing above his head. Thank God he was here.