Twisted Shadows (17 page)

An EMT finished putting a pressure bandage on Merritt. Another was bandaging one of Samantha's cuts. “That will have to wait,” said the first as he looked up from where he was kneeling next to Merritt. “They're both going to the hospital.”

“I'll go with them,” Nate said.

“No way,” said the officer, putting his hand on his holster. “That's Nicholas Merritt. We had a call someone was forcing another car off the road. You stay here until my sergeant comes. We do this by the book.”

Nate had no choice but to watch her climb the hill with the help of an officer as two EMTs carried Merritt up on a stretcher.

She looked back toward him, then continued her climb to the road.

Then she was gone.

The family gathered in the sunroom. They were all there, everyone but Paul Merritta. He had gone to bed, sedated and watched over by a nurse.

Victor poured them all a glass of wine. “What's he up to?”

George gulped down his drink. “Did anyone know about this disaster?”

“You're with the family's law firm,” Rich said wryly. “If you don't know, how would we?”

“Someone had to know she was alive. I know the background. I know about the accident. I also know Papa was out of town then. One of you had to help identify the bodies.”

No one said anything.

George glared around the room. “It had to be Victor or Rich.”

“Not necessarily,” Anna said. “Pop also had enough friends to see to it.”

Victor gave her a grateful look. “I swear it was as much a surprise to me tonight as to anyone. Don't you think my interests lie in maintaining the status quo?”

“But why?” George said. “Why bring her here?”

“We all know he wants Nick to succeed him. Maybe she's some kind of leverage.”

“And do any of us know what Nick wants?”

“Nick says she was attacked the night before last,” Victor said. “Maybe my brother thought she was in danger and believed she would be safer here. Or that Nick could protect her.”

“We all believed she died thirty-four years ago,” Rich said. “Who would—?”

He stopped in midsentence at the look on Victor's face. “You know, don't you, Victor?”

But Victor's face had gone blank.

“I still think it's because of Nick,” George said. “He's just been biding his time, building that goddamn company as a front,” he said bitterly. “You know Papa. You do what he wants and he walks all over you. He only respects those who stand up to him. Nick's no fool.”

“But what does the woman have to do with that?” Anna broke in.

“I don't know, but I see Nick's hand in it,” George said.

“However she came here, it's a disaster,” Rich said. “If she participates equally in our part of the estate, then Nick might be able to take control of everything. As the will's written now, he gets a third of everything if he agrees to take over the businesses. If Paul adds her, and she sides with Nick … they can control all the businesses.”

“I've seen his will,” Victor said. “She's not included.”

“Could he have changed it?” Anna asked.

“Damned if I know,” George said.

“You're the family lawyer.”

“He's never talked to me about the will. Pembroke still handles his personal business.”

“Can you talk to him?”

George shook his head. “He's never liked me. I took away the bulk of his business. I wanted to cut his retainer.”

Victor turned to Anna. “Talk to Reggie. You can twist him around your finger. Find out whether Pembroke has been in to see Paul.”

Anna frowned. “Even if he hasn't, it's only a matter of time. You must have seen the way he looked at her. And she apparently has Nick's protection.”

“How long do you think Nick's known about her?” Victor asked.

“He met with her yesterday,” Anna said.

Victor looked at her. “How did you know that?”

“No great secret. Nick told me.”

“He didn't say anything else? He believes she's really his sister?”

“He didn't, at first. I think he does now.”

“An imposter?” George said hopefully.

“With that hair and eyes? I don't think so,” Anna said. “And Pop would know. He would be sure with something this important. His body might be failing, but his mind isn't.”

“There's another question,” Victor said.

They all looked at him.

“Someone tried to kidnap her. Or worse.” Victor looked around the room.

“Don't look at me,” George said. “I didn't know about her until today.”

“None of us did,” Anna added.

“Someone did,” Victor said.

“Maybe they can take care of our problem,” George said with a small smile.

“Pop will kill anyone who harms her, particularly since he sent for her,” Anna pointed out.

“That begs the question as to why.” George said. “Why try to see her after all these years?”

“An act of contrition?” Anna asked.

No one believed that for a moment.

“He's dying,” Victor said. “He's not thinking right.”

A silence settled around the table.

George met Victor's eyes, then nodded.

Victor rose. “It's been a long evening. Let's see what we can find out and resume this conversation tomorrow.”

One by one, they left the room.

thirteen

McLean was waiting outside Nick's room.

Sam knew he was there. A nurse had informed her an hour ago.

She looked at her watch. Four hours since the accident. Nick had undergone surgery to repair a small artery and remove a bone splinter.

Her multiple cuts from the glass had been tended. There were none on her face, thank God.

She'd waited until Nick had been taken to a room, then sat with him. She'd been surprised that the FBI agent had not barged in.

She hadn't wanted to think about him or about those few moments when he'd helped her—or she had helped him—carry Nick to safety. She'd been so grateful.

She was still grateful. But she was also wary of the feelings he sparked in her. She'd caught the nuance, even the accusation, in the officer's words. Why
had
he been following them? Could he have prevented what had happened? It was a measure of the distrust that Nick had planted in her that she now weighed every word, every act, and wondered about the motives behind them.

Agent McLean had saved Nick's life. And probably her own.

So how could she have even the slightest doubts about his integrity?

Because Nick had taken a bullet for her. Because he didn't trust McLean. Loyalties pulled at her like riptides.

When Nick emerged from the anesthesia, his first question was about her. “Samantha … are you …”

“I'm fine,” she replied. “Thanks to you.”

His gaze roamed over her bandages.

“None are serious,” she tried to assure him. “That agent—McLean—was following us. He probably saved both of our lives by dragging you away.”

His eyes closed for a moment, then opened again. “Don't trust him,” he murmured. He tried to reach for a phone but his arm fell back. “The phone,” he said. “Can you dial a number and hand it to me?”

She saw the determination and did as he asked. She couldn't help listening to his slurred words. “Cal … there's been an accident. No, I'm not hurt badly but I'm in the hospital for tonight. Will you send Kelley over here? I want him to stay with Samantha.”

Apparently Cal was fully aware of who she was.

“Good,” Nick said, then gave the receiver back to her to set back into the cradle. “Wait here for a man named Kelley. He'll take care of you. I don't want you alone.” He moved, winced, then closed his eyes again. In minutes, he was lost in a drug-induced sleep.

“
Don't trust him.
”

She hadn't known what to expect, but not that. It showed the depth of the antipathy between the two men.

Then why had McLean saved him? Wouldn't it have been better to ignore the accident? It would have likely meant one less Merritta to worry about.

Or had he waited until the very last moment, when she was at risk, too? Nick had warned her he wanted to use her against the family.

Could it be …?

Could a law enforcement officer be that devious, that cold-blooded?

Yet she couldn't forget the sudden relief she'd felt when he'd appeared seconds before the car exploded. She'd known then she would be safe. As would Nick.

Could her perceptions be that skewed?

But she recalled the pain in her brother's eyes, remembered how he had leaned into the bullet for her, and she would do anything for him in turn. Believe anything. Or at least try to.

She wondered whether she should call his family, then decided that should be his decision. She knew she didn't want to talk to any of them. She and Nick had been followed from Paul Merritta's house. It had to be one of
them
who'd chased them off the road.

She stepped outside the door. McLean was there, just as she knew he would be.

Their gazes met. Her legs felt spindly, but she told herself it was only because of the events of the past few days.

“How is he?” he asked.

“He's asleep,” she said shortly, wishing he didn't look as attractive as he did.
He
didn't look like a mummy. Rather, he looked very much in control.

“Can I take you back to your hotel? I still want to talk to you.”

“I don't think so. I'm tired and I hurt in places I didn't even think could hurt.”

He grinned, and it went straight to her traitorous heart. “I've felt that way myself. All the more reason to give you a ride.”

“Thank you,” she said, “and thank you for doing what you did back there, but I need to have some time alone.”

“Do you really think that's a good idea?”

“I don't know the definition of a good idea any longer,” she said. “I just know I need some rest. You are not restful.”

He gave her a quizzical look. “You're probably entitled to anything you want at this point. But the police want a statement. I was able to delay it until tomorrow morning. I told them you would pay them a visit.”

“Why? I was the victim. I didn't see anything.”

“Because your brother was involved,” he said. “It's that simple.”

“And he's a Merritta?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Did Merritt tell you not to talk to me?”

She didn't say anything, but she was sure her expression gave her away.

“You really shouldn't be alone, Miss Carroll. Or is it Miss Merritta?” There was something about the way he said the last word. The slightest tinge of challenge. Why? Did he feel the same jagged edges of attraction that she did, and was he trying to dull them with animosity, just as she was?

“I appreciate what you did but I really don't want to talk to you,” she said, surprising even herself with the comment, she who had always respected the police, who'd always even been a little in awe of them and the risks they took for what was little more than survival wages. But she also felt fiercely protective of Nick at the moment.

He raised an eyebrow. “I checked you out.”

“You found the long list of offenses,” she retorted.

He grinned, and it was unexpectedly disarming. He had a rough charm. His eyes were a clear green, almost emerald, and their sharpness and intensity belied his rumpled clothes and hair.

“Found nothing,” he admitted wryly. “Not in Steamboat Springs.”

“How did you know it was Steamboat Springs?”

“All we need is a name, Miss Carroll. From there, we can write a biography on you.”

“How did you know I would be on that plane?”

“A guess.” He grinned again. “That's not exactly accurate. I met every plane from Denver.”

“And how did you know I was coming?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“A bug?”

His silence confirmed it.

“And Nicholas. Do you have one on him, too?”

He shrugged.

“And you have people following him?”

“It's a damn good thing I did.”

She suddenly felt foolish. She thought of all the precautions she had taken, but all they'd needed was her name on an airline manifest. They probably knew more about her now than she did.

Despite the attraction that sparked between them, she resented his intrusion into her life. Whom had he asked? The police department back home? Did the officers there now know she was related to an infamous family? She and her mother?

The gratitude she'd felt earlier faded, the words of her brother still haunting her.

“Are you sure I can't give you a ride?”

She shook her head.

“Then I'll wait and talk to him,” he said. The challenge was there. She wondered whether he knew about her hotel, whether anyone other than Nick knew about it. But she didn't want McLean here, either. Nick was in no condition to see him.

“The medical staff said ‘family only,'” she said.

His crooked smile told her he knew she was bluffing. But of course he would. He was FBI and used to elbowing his way into places where he was unwanted.

He started for the door, and unable to stop him, she followed him in.

Nick's eyes were closed but he opened them when McLean approached. He grimaced.

“Just came in to see if you were still alive,” McLean said.

“I hear you helped drag me out of a car. Going soft, McLean? Or did you have another motive?”

“It was the only way to get your sister out of danger. She wouldn't leave without you. Something else on your conscience.”

“Leave her alone, McLean.”

“She's not the one we want.”

“The one
you
want,” her brother corrected. His words weren't as slurred now, though the pain etched lines in his face.