All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel (38 page)

On deck, she searched the horizon for the chopper and saw it off the starboard side. Together they raced for the bow and dove into the frigid water. She gasped in shock as she surfaced and automatically started swimming. With only one good arm, she’d never make it. Thank God Joe was right beside her.

The helicopter was above them now. The water churned, trying to suck her down. Joe’s powerful arm went around her, helping her stay afloat. She relaxed against him, still amazed he was there.

Tyler lowered a cable, and Joe hooked it to a harness he wore. He wrapped both arms securely around her, and the cable slowly raised them from the water. As soon as they were on board, the chopper lifted and started back toward land. She clung to Joe, drawing on his strength. He didn’t let her go when he pulled the detonator from his pocket, pressed a sequence of buttons, and the yacht behind them exploded. Fire and debris shot into the air, followed by a black cloud of smoke. The shock wave caught up with them and rocked the aircraft.

Walker gave a low whistle. “
Holy cow!
How much explosive did we need?”

Cara stared at the burning debris. Shouldn’t she feel something? Remorse? Regret? The only emotion she could muster was relief.

Joe pulled her tightly against his chest. “It’s okay,” he whispered. His eyes conveyed the same relief she felt. It was over.

“Thank you for coming, Joe.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shirt.

Walker touched her shoulder. “I gotta hear this story.” He grinned. “You can tell me when you’re ready.”

“Are you sure you’re all right? Did that bastard…” Joe peered into her face.

“No, he…” She trembled violently. Joe drew a blanket around her, but it wasn’t just the cold. Her life, as she knew it, was over. Brian, David, Charlie… all dead. She survived—thanks to Joe—and she could start over. She was scared to death.

“It’s going to be all right,” Joe whispered in her ear. Cara clung to his words, wanting desperately to believe they were true.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Saturday, 6:05 am

A
DOCTOR WAITED
at the ranch when they arrived. Joe insisted she be checked out and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Finally, she gave in, too exhausted to argue. Dr. Johnson told her to rest—apparently you needed a medical degree for dispensing that advice—and left some pills to help her sleep, even though Cara said she didn’t need them. Joe made her take one and sat with her until she fell asleep.

She woke up eight hours later. Walker sat in the chair beside the bed. Joe was gone.

“Hey, sleepyhead. I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up.” He smiled like he really was glad to see her.

“Where’s Joe?”

“He went into town to bring Dillon home. Damn dog won’t let anyone else near him.”

“Is he going to be all right?”

“That fleabag is tougher than nails. A little old forty-five slug isn’t going to keep him down for long.”

“Is Joe still blaming himself?”

“He’s mad as hell he didn’t get some time alone with Dennelli. He’s likely to take it out on anyone who crosses him.”

She laughed halfheartedly.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked.

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I don’t know if I ever will be. You saved my life, though. If you hadn’t bullied me until I came to terms with those handcuffs, I’d still be there.” She shuddered. It could just as easily have gone the other way. She’d been lucky.

He sat beside her and took her hand, his grin lopsided. “I don’t remember me bullying you. I do remember you almost blowing yourself up, though. You aren’t planning to tell Joe how you learned to set those charges, are you?”

He winked at her when she laughed. “That’s between you and me. Joe doesn’t need to know.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“As soon as I know for sure David is dead, I can probably go home if I want. Has Murphy found out anything?”

“Considering the amount of explosives and the heat of the fire afterward, we may never know for sure who died on that yacht. Anyway, I was hoping you’d stick around for a while. We’ve gotten kind of used to you, and there’s always something exciting going on when you’re around.”

“Very funny.” She pulled her hand from his and laid it on his arm. “I was only supposed to stay until I wasn’t in danger anymore. Joe put his life on hold to help me. I can’t ask any more than that. I’ve got some thinking to do. I need to get some perspective on everything that’s happened, and I can’t do that here. I have strong feelings for all of you, especially Joe. But are they real or part of some post-traumatic stress disorder?”

He chuckled, and Cara remembered the first day she’d met him. It seemed like an eternity ago.

“I haven’t grieved for my brother yet, or for Charlie. I’m not sure who I am anymore. I would have gladly murdered David in cold blood if Joe hadn’t… and I’m responsible for that too. Somehow, I have to learn to deal with it all. I can’t be objective here.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. We’re going to miss you. Joe’s going to miss you.”

Just then Joe appeared at the balcony doors. Walker kissed her cheek and excused himself. Joe walked over to the bed and sat in the spot Walker had vacated.

“Is Dillon okay? Why didn’t you bring him up?” Cara asked.

“He’s going to be fine, but it will be a couple of days before he’s ready for the stairs.”

“Are you all right?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“I’m…” Cara’s voice broke and she looked away from him.

“Why did Walker leave so fast?” He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, and a lone tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.

“I need to talk to you, Joe.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Three months later, Rome, Italy

Sunday, 2:34 pm

H
OW MUCH TIME
did it take to heal? A month in Cancun, two in Europe, and still Cara couldn’t make the decision to return to the States. It was like she stood again on that platform on the high ropes course, prepared to jump. Then, as now, she hesitated too long. She let the fear and doubt take hold, until she was caught between knowing she absolutely couldn’t do it and realizing there was no other way.

She’d told Joe she needed time to grieve for Charlie and come to terms with her brother’s role in his murder. Charlie’s death was harder to put behind her than her brother’s, or all of the ugliness associated with the memory of David. In time, she realized she had loved Charlie, even though her emotional upheaval at the time wouldn’t allow her to let down her guard and accept it. Once she reached that conclusion, she finally laid his memory to rest.

Brian was dead because he’d tried to help her. For his efforts, he’d taken her place as the object of David’s threats and bullying. If only he’d come to her. Together they might have figured some way out. Instead, they each let the other down, and now he was dead. It could just as easily have been her. At first, she wished fervently it had been her, but time was slowly beginning to heal the wound and allow her to forgive herself. He was gone and there was nothing she could do about that. In time, her father might even forgive her for living when his son didn’t. She bore scars from Brian’s death in more ways than one, but she knew someday the wounds would heal.

David’s death set her free. It was weeks before she stopped feeling guilty for the relief her newfound freedom brought. Months had passed since the last time she woke in the night, bathed in cold sweat and scared out of her mind.

In fact, it had been awhile since she’d felt afraid of anything—unless she counted going back and facing Joe. A lot could happen in three months. What if he’d moved on? What if he didn’t want her anymore? What if she stayed here and never found out? As much as his rejection would hurt, she had to know. She had to go back and face him.

She made the airplane reservation for the next day. Once the decision was made, the apprehension lessened in her flurry to pack, make arrangements for transportation, and say good-bye to the handful of friends she’d made during her stay in Rome.

Returning to her room that evening and seeing her luggage packed and ready to go, she was overcome by loneliness. Forever packing up, moving on, she had no real place of her own. She made herself a promise—somehow she’d find that place fate intended to be her home, and she would never leave.

She dug the business card Joe had given her from her purse. Maybe she should call him—let him know she was coming. No… she couldn’t take his rejection over the phone. She had to see him, stand in front of him, and hear him say the words.

Cara shoved the card back in her wallet and noticed another piece of paper partially sticking out. She pulled on it, intending to straighten it, when she realized it was a ticket from the casino in Lincoln City. The three hundred and seventeen dollars she’d cashed out after Joe interfered with her losing streak. Forgotten until now, it gave her an idea.

She hurried downstairs to the lobby, used their copy machine, and the man behind the counter agreed to send an e-mail for her. On the copy of her winning ticket, she scribbled “leaving Italy tomorrow.”

“No name?” the clerk asked.

“Just like it is.” She handed him the card with Joe’s e-mail address and walked away before she could change her mind. It was done. Now she’d know.

The following Sunday, 8:46 pm

S
IX DAYS HAD
gone by since her plane landed in Portland. She’d rented a car and driven straight through to Lincoln City, eager for a resolution now she’d finally made her decision. There’d always been the possibility Joe would come just to tell her it wasn’t going to work for him. Never once did she consider he might not show. By the sixth day of playing the same penny slot machine for hours at a time, she was ready to admit he wasn’t coming.

A man sat next to her for a good part of the evening. He was fortyish with thinning hair, brown eyes, and a stocky build. He ordered drinks regularly, and she wouldn’t have minded except he insisted on talking to her.

“Want to get some coffee?” He emptied his drink.

Her gaze shot to his face. Was it just a coincidence he’d spoken those exact words? She glanced around the casino, studying the faces of the other players. No one looked the least bit familiar.

“Hey, I asked you a question. The least you could do is answer.” The man leaned toward her. His breath was practically a living organism of its own.

“Thank you, but no.” She held his gaze until he looked away. Immediately he cashed out, took his glass with a few ice cubes left in the bottom, and walked away grumbling.

Cara hit the spin button a half-dozen more times and then cashed out as well. Joe wasn’t coming. She couldn’t stay here any longer, gambling, breathing secondhand smoke, and yearning for a life that wasn’t meant to be. It was a good decision. She’d learn to live with it later.

The cool March evening air felt good on her skin as she left the smoky casino and breathed in the crisp coastal air. As she rounded the corner of the building and stepped off the sidewalk into the parking lot, heavy footsteps approached from behind. Before she could turn around, the drunk from the casino swung one arm around her waist and pulled her close, while his other hand grabbed her right elbow.

“Come on, honey, you and I are going to have a drink before you go.”

She opened her mouth to tell the man to remove his hands when a familiar voice made her forget what she was going to say.

“Cara?”

Her eyes snapped up to meet Joe’s, not fifteen feet away, and a smile settled on her lips.

“You stay out of this. I saw her first,” the drunk said.

“Cara? You got this?” A grin seeped into Joe’s expression.

She nodded and turned her attention to the man who was still glowering at Joe.

“Don’t worry.” Joe backed up a couple steps, holding his hands up in front of him. “I’m only here to help you up once she’s finished with you.” Joe eyed the drunk. “Go easy on him, Cara. I don’t think he’s too steady as it is.”

The man smirked and started dragging her back toward the casino. She waited until they reached a section of pavement bordered by sand and tall grass. Joe was right. The man already leaned away from her. It only took a small push in that direction to get him off the sidewalk. He dropped her arm to steady himself. She swung full circle and swept his legs out from under him. He went down with a grunt and got up slowly. She swung around again. This time her foot connected with his jaw. He roared in pain and went down hard.

“Shit! You’ll be sorry you did that.” He struggled clumsily to his knees.

“My advice would be for you to stay down,” Joe said from the sidewalk. “She can go on like this all day.”

“You crazy bitch!” The man scrambled to his feet and backed away.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Cara watched him until he rounded the corner of the casino and disappeared from sight, then turned slowly to face Joe.

He stood casually, his thumbs hooked in his pockets. His eyes sparkled with amusement, and the grin she’d missed so much was right where it should be.

“I’ve created a monster,” he drawled.

She sighed heavily and asked the question that was tearing her up inside. “What took you so long?”

He ambled a few steps closer. “When you left Rome so suddenly, you caught Walker off guard. He couldn’t get another flight out for twelve hours. By the time he got to Portland, you were long gone. It was a week before Ty bothered to open that e-mail from a hotel he’d never heard of and couldn’t pronounce and figured out it was a message from you. Clever, by the way.”

“You had Walker watching me?”

“Don’t be upset. I did it to make sure you were safe. That’s my job, remember? I didn’t quit on you just because you left. Besides, he had orders not to interfere unless there was something life-threatening that you couldn’t handle by yourself. Thankfully, he’s been bored out of his mind.”

“I’m not upset.” Relief left her breathless. “I just wish I’d known. It might have made it easier.”