All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel (33 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Tuesday, 11:28 pm

C
ARA’S CELL PHONE
vibrated on the nightstand beside the bed and woke Joe from a light sleep. Beside him, she struggled up on one arm and tried to reach over him. He rolled over easily and beat her to it. There was only one person he could think of who would call her so late. The 5-0-3 area code on the caller ID confirmed his suspicion. He put the phone to his ear, pinning her wrist as she grabbed for it.

“What do you want, Dennelli?”

Silence greeted Joe. He’d obviously surprised the bastard.

“It’s late, Reynolds. Aren’t you done fucking my wife yet?”

“The good news is she’s not your wife. I’m curious. How do you live with yourself after you rape the woman you promised to love, honor, and cherish? Did treating her like that make you feel like a big man?”

“How I treat her is none of your business.”

“I’m making it my business.”

Dennelli laughed scornfully. “It must be tearing you up, Reynolds, knowing she’s leaving you to come back to me.”

Joe went rigid. What was the lowlife snake talking about? He glanced at Cara’s anxious red face.

Dennelli laughed again. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“Why don’t you fill me in?” Fury consumed Joe.

“Give me the phone…” Cara’s eyes pleaded with him.

He pushed her away and rolled from the bed.

“We made a deal. She comes home by Sunday, and I let all of you live.”

Joe swung around to gaze at her. The hopelessness in her eyes could only mean one thing—it was true. He turned his attention back to Dennelli as he struggled to control his rage. “I’m getting tired of your empty threats. Can’t you come up with something more original?”

“Cara knows I follow through on my promises. I promised her a long time ago she’d never leave me, not alive anyway, and here she is coming home so I can keep my word. The point is, I get her. I keep my promise. You and the Dugan girl don’t get hurt. You’re getting the better end of the bargain, Reynolds. I don’t plan on keeping her long, but I will enjoy her last few hours.”

“If you touch her, you’re a dead man,” Joe growled.

“We’ll see, won’t we?” Dennelli ended the call abruptly.

Joe swung back to Cara, anger and revulsion tying knots in his stomach. “You trust me? Always, you said. Right?”

“I was going to tell you.”

“When? On your way out the door?” She winced, but he couldn’t stop the angry flow of words. “He plans to kill you. Did you know that, Cara?”

“I assumed.” She didn’t look at him.

He slammed his fist into the nightstand and swore viciously. He understood why she’d agreed to Dennelli’s demands. She was protecting him, but didn’t she know the only way to hurt him was to hurt herself? Why hadn’t she come to him? The answer was staring him in the face—because she didn’t think he could protect her from Dennelli. He put on his jeans and walked away from her, stopping in front of the balcony doors.

“Tell me one thing,” he said over his shoulder. “Do you want to die?”

“Of course not.”

He turned to look at her again. “Then we’re doing this my way. You’ll do exactly what I say. When it’s over, and Dennelli is dead and buried, you can leave.” Joe didn’t try to soften the cold harshness in his tone. The woman had lied to him. At the same time, he fought the urge to gather her in his arms and smooth her worried brow. He raked his gaze over her naked form, noticed her tear-stained face, and forced himself to stand where he was. A moment later, he gathered the rest of his clothes and left.

Wednesday, 8:03 am

C
ARA LAY AWAKE
all night alternating between anger, grief, and gut-wrenching fear. By morning, her stomach churned at the thought of food so she skipped breakfast. Joe didn’t come to check on her, as had become his habit over the last few weeks. She hadn’t expected him to, but it stung.

In the shower, she scrubbed the last of his smell away and tried to forget the hurt and condemnation in his eyes when he looked at her. His scent still hung in the room and on her things—leather and spice. She threw her robe and comforter over the balcony in a fit of pique. For one brief second, she thought about throwing herself over the railing too. Who would miss her? Her psychotic ex-husband?

That thought returned her to reality. In three long years with David, she’d never once contemplated suicide. She’d be damned if she’d start now. What Joe thought of her was no longer important. Only one thing mattered now… removing David from her life permanently. Whatever it took, however long it took, she would accomplish that much. The first order of business was getting out of here.

She put on her long-sleeved cotton shirt and noticed she had more flexibility in her arm and shoulder. That was a good sign. She made her bed—the same bed she and Joe had shared—and packed her bag, including her gun and knife. When this was over, she’d repay Joe and Walker for their weapons… if she was still alive. This afternoon she’d figure out how to get her bag over the fence.

Revenge and hate drove her now. All of her thoughts culminated in making David pay for everything he’d ever done to her. It wasn’t rational. She wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. The likelihood she’d survive was slim, but the fact that she no longer feared death worked in her favor. Revenge was all she had left.

Sam arrived an hour later, and she met him in the great room. Rayna joined them, a frown on her face. She’d drawn the task of overseeing Sam’s visit for the day, but clearly she’d rather join Joe and his men in the study where plans were being made that would no doubt change the course of Cara’s life, one way or another.

“What’s going on around here?” Sam nodded toward Joe’s closed study door.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t invited to the meeting. Neither was Rayna.” Cara turned to the young girl.

Rayna glanced at her, rolled her eyes, and kept quiet.

“Top-secret stuff, huh?” Sam chuckled. “Well, wouldn’t want to intrude on that. We’re fine on our own, aren’t we, Cara?”

“If you’ll help me.” She spoke purposefully and stared into his eyes for a moment. He regarded her with curiosity and glanced guardedly at Rayna before turning his attention back to Cara’s shoulder. Her heart quickened. She’d gotten his attention.

“Do you think it’s too soon to start running—just a short distance?” Cara kept her voice calm and professional, but she glanced up and met his gaze, and her eyes flickered to Rayna.

“Uh… no. It wouldn’t hurt anything and running would be a good way to get your strength back, but you’d want a fairly smooth trail… like the ones along the lake.”

“Could we give it a try today?” Cara rested a hand on his arm, hoping to convey how important his agreement was.

“Sure, if you can get the guards to let the drawbridge down.”

“Rayna, what do you think?”

“About what?” Rayna obviously hadn’t been paying any attention to their conversation.

“Sam said it’d be okay if I went for a short run along the lake today. Do you think that would be okay?”

“I’ll check with Joe.” Rayna left, obviously eager to get into the study where the real action was.

As soon as she was gone, Sam pulled a chair around in front of Cara. “Okay, give. What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you as much as I can but, frankly, the less you know, the safer you’ll be. I’m leaving, and I don’t want anyone to find out until after I’m gone. Will you help me?”

His face crinkled into a smile. “Anything you need, Cara. Anything at all.”

“Thanks, Sam. I knew I could count on you.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Wednesday, 10:13 am

T
HE LAKE SHIMMERED
in the crisp air against the backdrop of pristine, snow-covered mountains. The sun shone brilliantly from a blue expanse that seemed to go on forever. Montana wasn’t called Big Sky Country for nothing. Cara drew in a breath of fresh morning air and shook her head, still not believing she’d gotten so lucky.

According to Rayna, Joe thought Cara going for a run with Sam was a great idea. Clearly, he’d agree to anything to get her out of the house so he wouldn’t have to see her. Rayna came along, ostensibly to make sure Cara didn’t overdo it, but she knew better. Rayna was there because Joe didn’t trust Sam or her. To emphasize his suspicion, he sent Sanchez along with them as well. For someone who put such stock in trust, he seemed to be having a good deal of trouble with it.

Cara chose a short trail that looped around toward the lake about a mile before it would return them to the gate. She set a slow pace, and Sam stayed with her. Rayna, impatient and apparently unconcerned she and Sam weren’t to be trusted, disappeared around a bend in the trail and stayed ahead of them all the way. Sanchez brought up the rear, politely allowing them their privacy. Within five minutes, Cara slowed to a walk, breathing hard. Sam fell in beside her.

“You’re a little pale. Are you sure you’re all right?”

She waved a dismissive hand in lieu of being able to speak, and they walked in silence for a few minutes while she caught her breath.

“I’m not going to ask why you’re sneaking out of here,” Sam said. “That’s your business. Just tell me what the plan is.”

“I need to get myself and my bag away from here by Saturday. I don’t know exactly when yet, but it will be easier if Joe’s not here.”

“This bag of yours—what’s it look like?”

“It’s a dark blue, oversized gym bag. Everything I own is in it, so it’s pretty heavy.”

“Maybe we could do the old attaché case switch like in the movies. Can you get it downstairs to the room where we met today?”

“I think so.”

“Good. I’ll come again tomorrow, with a bag similar to yours, and when I leave, I’ll carry yours out with me. I can arrange for transportation, too, if you like. The quickest way out of here without being seen is by boat.”

A shiver went down her back, and Cara fell silent for a moment. Did she trust Sam with her life? “You’re pretty good at all this spy stuff.”

“I’m a big James Bond fan.” He grinned broadly.

She smiled back, dismissing the niggling doubts in favor of the immediate goal. She stretched up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Sam. You don’t know how much this means.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Rayna waited impatiently for them at the gate, standing with her hands on her hips, obviously anxious to be rid of her responsibility and slip back to the men’s gathering.

With one look at Sam, Cara could tell he was irritated with Rayna and seemed to draw out his stay as long as he could. Cara finally said good-bye to him as the door to Joe’s study opened and the men swelled out on their way to the dining hall.

“See you tomorrow.” Sam squeezed Cara’s hand lightly before he left.

Wednesday, 12:11 pm

J
OE SCOWLED WHEN
he saw Sam standing beside Cara outside the study. The familiar way he touched her hand made Joe’s blood boil. He didn’t like Sam, and he sure as hell didn’t trust him. Maybe it was time to put a stop to his visits.

She smiled at the man as they said good-bye. Obviously, spending time with Sam made her a lot happier than she was the last time Joe saw her. God, he wished he couldn’t remember that scene so well. In the early hours of the morning, while sleep eluded him, he remembered her words—she wanted to talk to him. He recalled the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes. With the benefit of hindsight, he knew exactly what she wanted to tell him. Her secret would have been out in the open if he hadn’t put her off, more interested in her body and the things it did to his. When he learned the truth from Dennelli, he lashed out like the whole thing was her fault and accused her of not trusting him. That was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Now she’d never trust him again.

After Sam left, she glanced toward Joe. When he met her gaze, she looked away and hurried upstairs. The emptiness that slammed him almost dropped him where he stood. He had to force his lungs to draw a breath and let it out. With a tortured sigh, he turned his thoughts back to the task at hand. He’d make sure she was free of Dennelli once and for all. Then… he’d let her go.

While his men ate their lunch, he returned to his study and his plan. It was simple. They’d launch an attack on Dennelli’s estate in West Linn. Murphy was pulling intelligence regarding the size of his army, the sophistication of his weaponry, and the likeliest place for Dennelli to be found during the attack. The biggest problem—this target wasn’t sanctioned by ATF, or anyone else who owed Joe a favor. He, and the men who chose to follow him, were on their own. If they were successful, local law enforcement would be after them—the Feds too. They’d be forced to relocate to a country that didn’t favor extradition. They might never be able to return. A couple of men left in the face of that information. The ones who stayed would have to be enough.

This afternoon they would learn the layout of the estate, the positions of the sentries and the cameras. They would devise a plan to get onto the grounds and locate their target before anyone knew they were there. Murphy would do what he could—supply intel and a few choppers. Tomorrow they would drill, and then drill again until they worked as a unit. The following day would be the real thing. Joe finished examining the blueprints in front of him as his team straggled back into the study.

Wednesday, 3:30 pm

D
RIVEN BY HUNGER,
Cara went downstairs to the kitchen. Irene was absent, which disappointed her. She could have used a friendly face. She dug around in the refrigerator and found bread and leftover pot roast, made herself a sandwich, and poured a glass of milk. Leaving through the back door, she crossed the compound to Dillon’s kennel and let him out. She sat on the grass to eat her lunch while he sniffed and ran around. There wasn’t another soul in sight. The place looked deserted.

She washed her dishes and put them away in the kitchen, then let Dillon in the back door and hurried upstairs. As the dog curled up in his usual place, she grabbed her bag and went back downstairs. In the great room, she found a hiding place between a sofa and the wall. As long as Irene didn’t clean overnight, her bag would be safe there.