All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel (36 page)

Walker approached as he hung up. “What’s wrong, boss?”

“Cara’s missing. Someone shot Dillon and abducted her from the lake trail.”

“Garrett?”

“Sanchez is checking now.”

The same worries plaguing Joe stared at him from Walker’s eyes. It was a good bet Dennelli had gotten what he wanted, and they didn’t have a clue where to start looking.

Friday, 9:30 am

“W
E JUST GOT
a break.” Murphy sounded excited, and Joe gripped the phone harder, praying it hadn’t come too late. “We got David Dennelli’s name from Sinclair’s notebook, along with a few shipment dates and destinations. One of the shipments is today, heading to Shanghai. Unfortunately, we don’t know the ship or the dock. My agents are already doing a ship-by-ship search.”

“Dennelli has Cara. She’s missing from the ranch, and Sam Garrett has disappeared.” Joe rubbed his forehead in frustration. “It’s too coincidental she turns up missing the same day a shipment is scheduled. She’s as good as dead if that ship leaves port. Searching one or two ships at a time won’t get it.”

“It’s all we’ve got. It will have to be enough.”

Joe gritted his teeth against the rage in serious danger of flying out of control. “Are you telling me this is suddenly ATF jurisdiction again? When you find Dennelli, you’re going to… what? Arrest him? That’s not good enough for me.”

“Let me do my job,” Murphy said.

“Sure. You do your job. Then I’ll do mine.” Joe ended the call.

Tyler shot him a cautious glance. “What now?”

“Call the choppers. We need to get closer to the river.” Joe’s phone rang again.

“An employee at the airport recognized a picture of Sam,” Rayna said. “He boarded a private plane about eight this morning. They didn’t file a flight plan.”

“Was he alone?”

“The employee didn’t see anyone else.”

“Keep digging. We’ve got a lead on this end, but it’s a slim one.”

“We’ll find her, Joe.”

He hung up without commenting, as his control began to slip through his fingers.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Friday, 10:23 am

S
AM HUSTLED HER
from the plane into a waiting van, freeing her feet but keeping her hands bound and the gag firmly in place. Cara couldn’t see out, but it didn’t feel like they were anywhere near David’s estate. She was right. When the van finally stopped and the door opened, they were alongside a river. She looked around frantically for some landmark to tell her where she was. Her gaze fell upon the lighthouse, towering above the city on the highest hill. The Astoria Column, one hundred and twenty-five feet, with historic scenes sculpted on every square inch. Why were they in Astoria, at the mouth of the Columbia River?

Sam threw a coat over her shoulders to cover her bound hands and ripped the tape from her mouth. He draped his arm over her shoulders, a jagged knife held in his hand. “One word and you won’t be as pretty anymore,” he whispered.

Cara stared at the vicious, serrated blade and fear stole any voice she might have had. She tore her eyes away and concentrated on the seagulls soaring overhead and the fishy-smelling coastal breeze as it dried the cold sweat that covered her body.

He pushed her out of the van, down some stairs into a small marina, where they boarded a speedboat. The engine roared to life, he unhooked the lines, and they headed out into the strong current. The open sea lay ahead of them and she braced for a rough ride.

He steered the boat north and revved the jet engine to full speed. The bow slammed through the waves, jarring the boat until she slid to the floor and wedged herself in a corner to keep from being thrown out. A few minutes later, she sucked in her breath when she recognized the two hundred and twenty foot Dennelli family yacht moving through the water ahead of them. Sam brought the speed boat alongside the yacht and threw a mooring line to a waiting man. When their boat was secured, he yanked her up and pushed her toward the front.

He unbound her hands so she could climb the steps onto the deck of the yacht but gripped her arm securely and shoved her along in front of him. They descended below deck to the master stateroom, where he left her, closing and locking the door.

Her gaze flew to the ornate iron headboard. They were still there—the handcuffs. Terror washed over her, robbing her of her ability to focus. She had to stay calm. If she gave in to fear, she’d never get out of this alive. Concentrate. She had to remember what Walker taught her.

She ran to the bathroom, praying some of her things were still there. One of the drawers held bobby pins, and she quickly pushed two of them into her hair, being careful to cover them completely. She had no plan beyond escaping those cuffs. Her heart nearly stopped when the door opened, and she forced herself to step out of the bathroom.

“You’ve kept me waiting a long time, Cara.” David’s voice was deceptively calm.

“You could have gotten on with your life.” She watched him warily.

“I told you I wasn’t finished with you yet. Did you really think I’d let you go? I hope you’re not counting on Reynolds to swoop in and rescue you. He has no idea where you are.”

“He won’t need a road map to figure out what happened. He’ll find you eventually.”

“Your confidence in him is touching. Lucky for me, Sam will soon be on his way to find your mercenary. I don’t expect Reynolds will be interrupting us.” He smirked and started toward her.

Cara tensed but held her ground. He grabbed the front of her shirt and slammed her back against the wall, holding her there with his large frame. His head dipped and his lips ground into hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She tried to get enough leverage to break his hold, but he was too strong and too close. Her efforts only made him laugh. She wanted to scream in frustration. In spite of everything she’d learned, it was impossible to escape. It would go easier for her if she submitted—let him get this over with.

The hell she would! She bit down as hard as she could on his tongue and lip, tasting blood. He roared in pain and took a step back. She laughed, but not for long. His fist caught her on the side of the head. The room shimmered for a second before she blacked out.

She woke up when he threw her down on the bed. Instinctively, she rolled, almost reaching the other side before he caught her leg and yanked her back. She kicked out at him, catching the side of his head, but it only slowed him down for a second. With little effort, he pinned her down, pulled her right arm over her head, and latched the cold, metal handcuff around her wrist. Her left arm was useless, sending shards of pain through her shoulder with each movement. He leaned close, wound his fingers in her hair, and jerked painfully until she cried out.

“Don’t fight me, Cara. You can’t win.”

“You son of a bitch.”

He laughed and slapped her hard. Pushing himself off her, he walked to the door, pulled it closed, and turned the lock. He removed his jacket, carefully hanging it on the back of a chair, and started unbuttoning his shirt as he strolled toward her.

“I’ve been looking forward to this.” An eager grin lit his crazed eyes.

His cell phone rang and he answered it, his gaze raking over her as he listened. When he hung up, he slid his hand beneath her shirt and fondled her breasts. Cara clenched her teeth and tried not to vomit.

“Our reunion will have to wait a little while. I have some things to take care of. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” He laughed scornfully.

“Go to hell.”

“Apparently, you haven’t learned your lesson yet. It’s good we’ll have some time later.” He leaned over her, his lips nearing her mouth as his hand encircled her throat. “Bite me again and I’ll strangle you right here.” He kissed her gently and then a second later bit down drawing blood. She gasped, and he laughed with pleasure. “I’ve missed this. I might even keep you alive awhile longer… if you behave.”

David was right. There was no way she could fight him. He always won, but he would kill her anyway. Why not force his hand and save all the degradation in between? The image of Joe’s face appeared in her mind. Gentle, patient, kind, hard-as-nails, vengeful—so many sides to him. Did he know she was gone yet? He’d be going crazy if he did. Or did he think she’d broken her promise and left on her own? Either way, she’d be letting him down again if she didn’t at least try.

Gingerly, she sat up, feeling the bruises already forming on her face and legs. She listened. No sounds came from outside her door. Quickly, she pulled out one of the hidden bobby pins and bent it to the right angle. A few seconds after she inserted it into the lock and wiggled it, the cuff fell open. She offered a silent thank-you to Walker.

She tiptoed to the door and listened again, before opening it a crack. No one in sight. Cara slipped out and sneaked down the corridor toward the stairs leading to the deck above. Halfway there, voices came toward her from the upper level. Hurriedly, she ducked into the closest stateroom and waited.

The voices moved away from her hiding place and kept going until she could no longer hear them. She sighed in relief and leaned back against the door, then gasped as her gaze fell on the two tables in the middle of the room. They overflowed with weaponry and explosives. Handguns, rifles, automatic weapons, grenades, and bricks of C-4 practically obscured the tables they rested on. Boxes of rifles and ammunition lined the walls, all marked
SINCLAIR ARMS DISTRIBUTING
. She frowned. What was David doing with all these weapons from her family’s business?

She couldn’t worry about that now. She’d just hit the jackpot. A plan began to form in her mind.

She chose a handgun, loaded up on ammunition, and grabbed two C-4 bricks and a detonator. Swallowing a wave of revulsion, she sneaked back into the bedroom she’d just left, loaded the Glock .40, and hid it between the mattress and box spring. One of the bricks of C-4 went into a crack on the inside of the footboard near the floor. The second she molded to the bed frame right below the pillows. At the last minute, she kept out a small piece of the clay-like substance. In short order, both charges were set and the detonator hidden in the pocket of an old coat in the closet.

Handcuffing herself to the bed again nearly made her gag, but she had to if her plan was going to work. The best she could do was cover the ratchets inside the cuff with the small piece of C-4 she’d put aside, allowing it to close without locking.

Waiting was the worst. Her mind dwelled on everything that could go wrong. Her plan hinged on convincing David she’d given up and would willingly participate in whatever perverted act he chose. That thought made her stomach roll. She was a lousy actress, and he wasn’t easily fooled. What if he didn’t buy it?

A sound caught her ear and she cocked her head, listening. A helicopter? No, the sound was gone now. She had only imagined it because she wanted so badly for it to be Joe. Why couldn’t she have met him a long time ago? Why was she even thinking about him now? If she was going to get out of this, she had to make it happen on her own. Her plan would work. It had to.

It was an hour before she finally heard footsteps approaching and looked up when David entered the room. His gaze slipped over her as she sat cross-legged on the bed, leaning against the headboard. He started shedding his clothes as he covered the distance between them.

“You’re right. I can’t fight you. You’re too strong and too smart. I’ll do what you want if you don’t hurt me anymore.” She dropped her gaze and waited, humiliated by her own submissiveness, even though it was only an act.

“You’ll do what I want, regardless. You’re not really in a position to bargain.”

“I thought you might like… something different. Something other than this.” Cara lifted her handcuffed wrist and met his gaze, letting a sultry smile curve her lips.

He studied her, and his eyes sparked with interest. Finally, he shook his head. “Nice try, but I don’t think so.” He smiled as he crawled onto the bed, grasped her legs, and pulled her toward him until the handcuff went taut. She breathed a sigh of relief when the C-4 held the bracelet together.

It was now or never. She forced herself to smile up at him. Her free hand wrapped around his neck, and she pulled his lips down to hers, kissing him with all the passion she could garner. He pulled away and looked at her suspiciously. She smiled again. He grinned eagerly, recapturing her lips. His mouth over hers smothered her cry as he ripped her shirt open and squeezed her tender flesh. Her mind screamed to get away, but she managed to stay focused as he pawed her.

He rose up to fumble with the waistband of her pants and push them down. She fought to keep the panic from her voice as he jerked them off and sprawled on top of her. “I’ll do anything to make things up to you, David. Isn’t there something special you’d like?”

“You’ll do everything I want before we’re finished.” He scowled, but the idea had been planted, and he’d obviously thought of something more degrading than the present scenario. His gaze narrowed on her face and he smiled sadistically then dug through his pants pocket at the foot of the bed for the key.

She sat up—ready. One try was all she’d get.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Friday, 11:55 am

T
HE CHOPPER PILOTS
got them as close to the river as possible, and Joe’s men spread out with Murphy’s agents to search the docked ships. It would take all day and part of the night to thoroughly inspect each ship on the wharf, but it was better than doing nothing.

Garrett had to work for Dennelli. Otherwise it would be strictly a coincidence, and Joe didn’t believe in coincidence. Thinking about Garrett turning Cara over to her ex-husband sent Joe’s rage spiraling out of control. He clenched his fists into white-knuckled balls to try to maintain a semblance of objectivity in front of his men. He failed miserably.

Leaving yet another ship with no results, his cell phone rang. “Yeah.”

“Listen carefully, Reynolds. Against my better judgment, I’m going to help you out.”