All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel (30 page)

“How do I know you won’t hurt them anyway?”

“I give you my word. You come back to me, and your friends live.”

She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. Loneliness engulfed her, and she had to force herself to breathe. “It’ll take me a few days to convince them I’m well enough to leave.”

“I’m not an unreasonable man. I’ll give you a week. Don’t think about running, though. That won’t save their lives.”

“Why do you hate me so much, David?”

“I don’t hate you. I own you. You’ve got one week. If you don’t show up, people start dying.” The connection went dead.

His words swirled in her head as she wrestled with the fear that threatened her resolve. Could she actually go back? She had no other choice. From the beginning, she knew it would come to this. Her friends’ lives outweighed everything else, even if it meant walking back into a life she swore she was done with. David would kill her eventually—she knew that. But, she didn’t have to make it easy for him. She’d learned a few things from Joe and Walker, and she no longer panicked at the mention of David’s name. Maybe, if she was smart and waited for an opportunity, she could turn the tables. It’d take strength, something she was sorely lacking these days. She only had a week to improve the range-of-motion in her shoulder. It would have to be enough.

Her heart ached as she thought of saying good-bye to her friends. How would she ever convince Joe to let her leave? She’d have to lie to him—tell him she was assuming the new identity Murphy created for her. In the morning, she’d call Murphy and ask him to bring the new itinerary he promised.

Drained and empty, she curled up on the bed. Her jumbled thoughts kept her from sleeping. She was still awake when her phone rang again and she jumped, her heart pounding. This time it was Joe.

Monday, 9:34 pm

C
ARA ANSWERED ON
the first ring, her voice sounding lonely and frightened. A pang of conscience hit Joe. He’d been wrong to leave the way he did. “Walker tells me I’m in your bad graces again. I was under the impression you wouldn’t miss me, so I didn’t think it was necessary to say good-bye.”

“I understand. You don’t have to explain. I’m glad you called, though. It’s good to hear your voice.”

He paused. This didn’t sound like the woman he left this morning. He’d become used to dealing with her hostility the last few weeks. How should he respond now that she sounded glad he was alive?

“Is everything okay?”

Her answer came with a slight hesitation. “I had a good day. Sam came out and gave me some exercises to help strengthen my arm muscles. Walker watched him like a hawk. It was really pretty amusing.” She trailed off with a strangled laugh. Was she crying? Damn it! Something was bothering her, and from six hundred miles away he couldn’t help.

“Are you okay with Sam being there?”

“Sure. Thanks for arranging it. I think it’ll really speed up my recovery.” She sighed and paused a second. “Did you find out anything from Murphy today?”

Her forced cheerfulness fell flat. He didn’t buy her everything-is-fine routine for a minute. “Murphy decoded a couple of names from Sinclair’s notebook. Both of them turned out to be dead ends. Either someone was feeding him false information, or he was a lot smarter than I thought.”

“Murphy isn’t giving up, is he?”

“He won’t let this go until he’s exhausted every possibility. It’s frustrating. We should have wrapped this up by now. If we had the notebook and Sinclair in custody, this investigation would be over. He would have given us the information we need.” Joe couldn’t keep the impatience from his voice.

“Don’t blame yourself for Brian’s death.”

“I don’t.” Anger flared with the images that flashed before his eyes—Cara’s limp body on the floor—Sinclair standing over her with a gun pointed at her head. If he had it to do over, he’d make sure Sinclair suffered a slow and painful death.

“I should have thanked you before now for saving my life, more than once, and for everything else. On top of that, you seem to put up with me when I can’t even stand myself, which is a good deal of the time these days. You should be nominated for sainthood.”

Again, that slight hesitation. What the hell was wrong? “Okay, Cara, you’re starting to worry me. What happened to the impatient, short-tempered girl I left behind this morning?”

“She’s lurking around here somewhere. I decided to try it without her for a while.”

“You want to tell me what happened to banish her?”

“I just realized how lucky I’ve been. I wish you were here.”

“Shit! You have the worst timing of anyone I’ve ever met. I’d get in that plane and come home right now if I hadn’t promised Murphy we’d follow up one more lead in the morning.”

“Don’t worry.” Cara’s laughter lightened his heart. “I’ll still be here when you get home.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely. Will you promise me something?”

“If I can,” he replied, again apprehensive.

“Take care of yourself tonight.”

“I always do.” Why was she worried about him tonight? Something was wrong. Not that he didn’t appreciate the change in her, but he always liked to know the reason when something flipped one-hundred-and-eighty degrees.

“It’s late, Cara. Get some sleep.”

“You too. Thanks for calling.”

As soon as the call ended, he dialed again, starting to talk the moment Walker answered. “Something’s wrong. Cara’s not herself. Are you sure Sam wasn’t alone with her today?”

“There was someone with them all the time. What’s going on, boss?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve got a feeling—and I think it’s worth checking out. Can you get a look at her call log?”

“You think she called someone?”

“Or someone called her.”

“What did she say to make you suspicious?”

“Nothing specific. She’s just… being too nice.”

That stopped Walker for a moment. “Well, that’s a new one.”

“Get back to me as soon as you can, Walker.”

Chapter Thirty

Monday, 10:16 pm

C
ARA WASHED HER
face, brushed her teeth, and changed into her pajamas—sweats and an oversized T-shirt Joe gave her because it was easier to get on and off. When she returned to the bedroom, Walker slouched in the chair beside her bed. His expression was anything but friendly.

“Walker, what’s up?”

“You tell me. Joe called all worried because something is bothering you. Want to tell me about it?”

“Nothing is bothering me.”

“Really? He asked me to check your phone.” Walker picked up the cell phone from the nightstand where she’d left it. “Who called earlier this evening? There’s a number with area code five-oh-three in your log. That’s Oregon, isn’t it?”

“It was a wrong number.” She walked toward him, her arm outstretched for the phone. Stupid move. It’d be easy for him to find out who the number belonged to. She should have admitted it was David calling to threaten her as he had so many times before. Walker would have believed her, and that would have been the end of it.

“Really? Let’s see who answers when we call.” Cara reached to grab the phone, but he held her off with one hand and put the phone on speaker. It rang twice before David answered.

“Cara? I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon. You haven’t changed your mind, have you? That would be disappointing.” He paused. When she didn’t answer, he hung up immediately.

Walker didn’t have to say a word. His disappointed expression and his unyielding glare accused her of being a traitor. She backed up to the bed and sat down. Any explanation she could offer would surely give her plan away, and she had to go through with it or people she cared about would suffer.

He didn’t ask her to explain, just took out his cell phone and dialed a number. Never taking his eyes off hers, he spoke into the phone. “We’ve got a problem, Joe.”

Tuesday, 6:42 am

W
ALKER SAT SILENTLY
in the chair by her bed when she finally went to sleep, and Rayna took his place sometime before Cara woke. One or both of them must have kept watch through the night, certainly not because they feared for her safety, but because she was now the enemy.

Rayna’s mood was dark and unfriendly, evidenced by the suspicious glare she wore from the moment Cara pulled herself awkwardly from the bed to sit with legs hanging over the side. It was clear Rayna wasn’t going to help her… but Cara had to try anyway.

“I need to call Murphy this morning. Walker took my phone. Do you think I could use yours?” There was at least a chance Rayna would consider their friendship in her decision.

Cara received an icy stare for her efforts.

“You’ll have to talk to Joe about that when he gets back. I’ll be outside when you’re ready to go down for breakfast.”

“What? I’m under house arrest? Whose idea was that?” She knew the answer. No one did anything without Joe’s approval.

Rayna shrugged as she stopped in the doorway. “Take that up with Joe too.”

Cara swallowed hard against the despair and anger that rose up to choke her. How quickly things changed. The people who’d been her friends yesterday now looked at her with cold distrust. Loneliness enfolded her heart so thick it was difficult to breathe, but she couldn’t allow anything to deter her from what she had to do. The good news was it wouldn’t be so difficult to leave people who wanted nothing to do with her.

David wouldn’t know they’d turned on her, though, and even if he did, he was no fool. He’d realize she cared about them, regardless of how they treated her. They would still be in danger if she didn’t find a way to keep her end of the bargain. There was no way around it—she had to go back, but she refused to be afraid anymore. There had to be a way to free herself and make sure he never threatened these people again. She just needed a plan.

She skipped breakfast, stayed in her room, and performed the exercises Sam had shown her. Layering on clothes, she walked laps around the balcony for thirty minutes before collapsing on the bed, completely exhausted and no closer to mapping out a course of action.

Her options were limited. Joe would have no choice but to let her leave if she called Murphy and put the new identity plan into play. That required a phone, however, and no one seemed inclined to trust her with one.

Sam would be here tomorrow. Perhaps he’d help if she could arrange some time alone to ask him. If not, sneaking out the gate in the dead of the night would be the only other alternative, although that might prove difficult now that she warranted a full-time guard.

There were a few things working in her favor. The first day she was here, she watched Joe open the front gate and memorized the security code. That would get her out of the compound if she managed to get that far. Another piece of luck—Walker hadn’t confiscated her weapon when he took her phone. She wouldn’t hurt anyone, but maybe she could bluff her way out. That was probably a good way to get herself shot again, but maybe David wouldn’t follow through on his threat if she were killed in an attempt to escape.

She reserved that option as a last resort.

Tuesday, 9:33 am

“P
LEASE TELL ME
you’re not holding her prisoner in her room.” Joe had been up at first light to check out Murphy’s final lead. Another dead end. He pushed the limits of the Citation’s capabilities getting back, only to find Rayna standing guard outside Cara’s bedroom and Walker in possession of her only link to the outside world.

“You said not to let her out of my sight. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Joe took a deep breath and reined in his temper. Walker didn’t know her the way he did. The harder they pushed, the more stubborn and determined she’d become, and the harder she’d push back. Hopefully, the damage could be mitigated. Otherwise, she’d never trust him again, and he wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of getting her to confide what Dennelli convinced her to do.

It filled him with rage knowing Dennelli had gotten to her here, inside Joe’s compound, where she was supposed to be safe. What did the slimeball want from her? What would disappoint him if she changed her mind? Joe knew the answer, and it fueled his anger. The son of a bitch wanted her.

“Let me have her phone. Tell Rayna to stand down and ask Irene to send up a tray of food. I think we should beef up the security around here. Find the list of our Panama team and start calling. Get as many men as you can, as soon as possible. It’s time we went on the offensive. This is going to end… one way or another.”

He returned a few phone calls in his study before going up to face Cara, hoping the food Irene sent up would gain him some small advantage. On his way upstairs, he met Irene coming down.

“She wouldn’t eat.” Irene frowned.

“Give it to me. I’ll see what I can do.” He took the tray and continued up the stairs.

At her door, he knocked softly, calling her name. No reply—he hadn’t expected one. He knocked again, louder, and pushed the door open.

The shades were pulled and the curtains drawn, casting a gloomy half-light over the room. Dressed in jeans and his extra-large T-shirt, she lay on the bed propped up on pillows, her good arm behind her head, watching him through narrowed eyes. It was plain to see she blamed him for Walker’s zealousness. That, on top of whatever Dennelli added to the mix, was no doubt responsible for the misery that shadowed her face.

He approached her slowly. “You need to eat something.” He set the tray on her lap. She ignored it, leaving it balanced precariously until he picked it up and set it aside. He could afford to give in on the food—he didn’t need to win all the battles, just the important one.

Turning away, he walked to the balcony doors, raised the shades, threw open the curtains, and cracked the door to let in some fresh air. When he returned to the bed, she stiffened then flinched away as he sat beside her.

“How’s your shoulder?” He touched the arm in the sling.

She still didn’t answer, just drew back farther and nearly stopped breathing until he removed his hand.

He expelled his breath slowly. It was worse than he expected. She was completely withdrawn. Why in the hell didn’t he come back last night when he might have kept the incident from racing out of control and maybe even gotten her to confide in him? Now he had to salvage the trust they’d built first and worry about Dennelli later.