Living on the Edge

by Susan Mallery

  “What?” she asked.

  “Explain these. You’d better talk fast because I’m about ready to take you back to your ex.”

  The threat chased away any lingering warm fuzzies. She grabbed the pages and tried to read them. Fear made it hard to concentrate, and she had to study each word until it made sense. When that happened, she knew she’d stepped into an alternate universe.

  The e-mails were from her to Christopher, begging him to take her back. She pleaded, she bargained, she offered sexual favors that made her blush. When she’d finished the first one, she knew she didn’t want to read any more, nor did she know what to say.

  She could feel Tanner’s fury filling the room. Whatever credibility she’d built up with him had just expired.

  “I didn’t write these,” she told him, frantic with worry but without any idea as to how to convince him.

  “They’re on your computer.”

  “I figured that, but I didn’t write them.” She stared at the typewritten pages and wished they’d been written by hand. At least then she could demand handwriting analysis to prove her point. “I swear, it wasn’t me.”

  “Then who?” he asked, obviously not interested in believing her. “Oh, wait. Let me guess. Your ex-husband broke into your condo, typed these on your computer and left them for me to find.”

  “Maybe.” Although she knew it sounded improbable, it had to be true. Panic swelled inside of her. “Tanner, I didn’t do this. I don’t want anything to do with the man.”

  “Right.” He turned to leave.

  Madison knew he was her only hope. Without Tanner on her side, she was as good as dead. Maybe not right away, but as soon as Christopher didn’t need her anymore.

  She pushed aside her computer and scrambled to her feet to chase after him. She grabbed his arm before he could step into the hallway.

  He glared down at her. “I told you not to take me for a fool. That I wasn’t interested in any sick games you and your ex might want to play.”

  “I know. I’m not playing. I’m not doing anything. I’m the innocent bystander in all this.”

  His dark eyes were unreadable, but she felt his anger. Helplessness made her stomach tighten.

  “I’ll do anything,” she said frantically. “Tell me how to prove my innocence. I’ll sign anything. I’ll—” a lightbulb went on “—I’ll take a lie-detector test.”

  His gaze narrowed slightly. “They’re not dependable.”

  “They have to be worth something.”

  “I prefer drugs.”

  She didn’t know exactly what that meant. “Truth serum?”

  “Something like that. Still interested in me finding out the truth?” Contempt filled his voice.

  She dropped her hand to her side and swallowed. While the idea of being drugged so Tanner could probe her brain didn’t make her want to do the happy dance, it beat the alternative of being returned to Christopher.

  “All right,” she said slowly. “You can drug me.”

  A muscle in his jaw tightened. “You won’t have any control,” he told her. “You won’t be able to keep the truth from me. It’s not a pleasant experience.”

  He sure wasn’t going out of his way to make it any better, she thought grimly. “I doubt it is, but I can’t think of another way to convince you I’m not lying. Can you?”

  He shrugged as if he didn’t care. Most likely, he didn’t. As far as he was concerned, she’d tricked him. Tanner wasn’t the sort of man to forgive that.

  “So how does this happen?”

  “I give you an injection, we wait twenty minutes, then we talk.”

  “All right. I have to shut down my computer.”

  “Come to the control room when you’re done. You’ll also want to go to the bathroom first.”

  Because why? But she didn’t ask because she didn’t want to know.

  Tanner turned off the security system in the control room so Madison could enter without setting off the alarm. He crossed to the cabinet on the far wall and opened the metal door. In addition to office supplies, extra ammunition and communications equipment, the space also held a first-aid kit and several different drugs, including sedatives and chemicals known to make people willing to talk.

  Tanner studied the options before picking up one small vial and tapping it. The powerful drug not only induced the patient to tell the truth, it erased the memory of the interrogation. For his purposes, even a very small dose had the side benefit of making the recipient feel woozy and spaced-out.

  He set down the vial and stared out the window. He’d been furious when he’d found the letters. After finally deciding he could trust Madison, he’d had proof that she was jerking his chain. He’d been determined to get rid of her within the hour.

  But her shock had been genuine and her willingness to do anything to prove that she hadn’t written the letters made him willing to give her another chance.

  What concerned him much more than her lying or not lying was that he gave a damn. His reaction to finding the letters had been personal. He’d felt as if she’d betrayed him and he didn’t like that. Why should he care? She was a job, nothing more. Maybe she wasn’t the useless, rich drama queen he’d first imagined, but she wasn’t anyone he could like or respect.

  Or was she? Was there any other explanation for his reluctance to drug her? It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear the truth, it was that he didn’t want her to feel sick and out of control. He cared about her reaction.

  “You’re losing it,” he muttered to himself.

  A flicker of movement on one of the monitors caught his attention. He saw Angel walking up to the front of the house. There was something about the grim expression on the other man’s face that warned him the news wasn’t good.

  Tanner pulled open the door before Angel could knock.

  “It’s Kelly,” Angel said flatly. “He died about an hour ago. Complications from the surgery. He never surfaced after the operation. I know you’re busy here, so I’ve already talked to his family. Shari, his fiancée, was with him at the end, as was his mom.”

  Tanner felt the sharp pain lance through his gut. “He was a kid.”

  “Yeah. And a good soldier. We were lucky to have known him.”

  Tanner shook his head. “You tell the other men?”

  “Not yet. I will. I wanted to let you know first.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Angel nodded, then turned to leave. Tanner closed the door.

  He’d known Kelly for over six years. The kid had come to him when he was barely twenty. He’d wanted a job because he thought the dangerous work was glamorous. Tanner had sent him away to grow up and get some seasoning. And to find out if Kelly was serious.

  The kid was. Three years later, he’d returned after serving a tour in the Army. He’d seen action in Iraq and had left with a couple medals. Tanner had been impressed enough to offer him a temporary assignment. Kelly had proved himself and had joined the team.

  Now he was dead—a kid cut down before he really had a chance to live—and all because something went wrong on what should have been a textbook operation.

  “I’m ready,” Madison said.

  He hadn’t heard her walk down the hall. Now he stared at her, at her elegant and expensive clothes, at her perfectly colored hair, and knew she was to blame. Rage filled him.

  “He’s dead,” he said. “Kelly O’Neil. Irish. His family came over here nearly a hundred years ago. He has two sisters, a mother and a fiancée. He just got engaged. Shari, his fiancée, was with him when he died. There are death benefits, a life insurance policy. Not a whole hell of a lot of comfort to a family who just lost a twenty-six-year-old kid. He’ll never get married, never have children, never grow old. And for what?”

  Madison paled. “It’s my fault.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  She started to speak, then turned and ran.

  Chapter 8

  Madison leaned against the tub and tried to
catch her breath. Her stomach still rebelled, but she thought she was done vomiting. A shudder shot through her, making her curl into a ball. Every part of her ached—her heart most of all.

  A man was dead because of her. She’d never thought she would ever have to think that, had never wanted to. The horror filled her until it was impossible to have any other thought. She tried to tell herself that it had been Christopher and his men, not her, but she had been the reason Kelly had been at that house in the first place.

  She didn’t know what to do, what to think. How could she atone for this? There were no words, no actions. A family had been destroyed forever because of her.

  She pushed herself up so she could sit on the edge of the tub. After covering her face with her hands, she waited for the tears, but there weren’t any. It was as if her body felt completely numb, yet filled with too much pain to contain.

  Slowly, awkwardly, she stood, then stumbled to the sink. After washing her face, she reached for the toothbrush and used it. It was only when she grabbed the hand towel that she saw Tanner reflected in the mirror. He stood just outside the bathroom. Waiting.

  “Ready?” he asked calmly.

  “What?”

  “Are you ready to start the interrogation?”

  She wasn’t sure what frightened her more—the word interrogation or the coldness she saw in his eyes.

  “I’m not going through with that now,” she told him.

  “You’ve already agreed. Backing out isn’t an option.”

  Before she could protest, he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the bedroom. She was too stunned to fight him, or maybe deep down she thought she deserved whatever he wanted to do. Maybe if she went along with it, she would be able to breathe again and not feel so horrible about what had happened to Kelly.

  He led her to the control room. She crossed the threshold, then balked when she saw the table beside the chair and the vials and needles on the table.

  “No!” She tried to twist free.

  Tanner only tightened his grip on her. His fingers dug into her skin and made her wince. He guided her to the chair, then released her so suddenly that she stumbled into the seat. Seconds later her forearm was strapped to the arm of the chair.

  This wasn’t happening, she told herself. He couldn’t be doing this.

  “I trusted you,” she told him.

  His dark eyes didn’t even flicker in response. “Big mistake.” He picked up a vial and a needle.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. She tried to pull free of the chair but couldn’t. Somehow this had become about more than the letters. They were involved in a battle of wills and she knew she couldn’t let him win.

  Unfortunately she didn’t seem to have any choice.

  He dabbed her arm with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol. She inhaled the sharp scent and gave a strangled laugh.

  “Oh, right. You’re going to pump me full of chemicals that will screw with my mind, but God forbid I should get an infection.”

  The needle pierced her skin. She felt the momentary prick of pain, then nothing. No heat, no burning. Nothing.

  “How long?” she asked.

  “About twenty minutes.”

  Too much time to sit there wondering what it was going to feel like, she thought.

  Tanner stepped back. She stared at the clock and started counting the seconds.

  At first she didn’t notice any change. Then gradually her body began to relax. She had the sense of getting lighter and lighter until she felt as if she could float away. In a way it was like being drunk, but with more intensity. Her body wasn’t part of her anymore. He released her arm, but she couldn’t move it.

  Then he was there, in her face. He’d pulled up a chair so he was right in front of her.

  Angry, she thought hazily. He was so very angry with her.

  Tanner waited until Madison’s eyes had fully dilated before beginning the questioning.

  “Tell me your full name,” he said.

  “Madison Taylor Adams Hilliard. Taylor for my mother.” She shook her head a little. “What was he thinking? He had to have known.”

  “What was who thinking?”

  “My father. By the time I was born, he had to have known.” She reached her fingers toward him but couldn’t move her arm. “You’re furious. I can see it shimmering around you. All sharp angles and knives. I’m sorry.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

  Tanner swore under his breath and looked at the needle on the table. He’d given her more than he’d planned. Or maybe not. Maybe after hearing about Kelly’s death he’d wanted to put her at risk. And so he had. With her slight build, she wouldn’t have much body mass to absorb the chemicals. She would get the full impact right away.

  “Tell me about Christopher,” he said, making his voice gentle. “You met at a party.”

  She swayed in her seat. “My father brought him. He was nice. Funny. He complimented me on the caterers. Most people compliment the hostess on the meal, but I never cooked. I liked that he got the irony of it all. He took time with me. He made me feel…strong.”

  An odd trait to cause someone to get married, he thought.

  “Was he ever angry? Did he have a temper?”

  She flinched. “Yes. Not at first. Not until after we were married. He didn’t like how I spoke to the bartender on our honeymoon. He thought I was being too friendly. It wasn’t about sex—she was a woman. But he didn’t want me fraternizing with the staff. He said it didn’t look right.”

  “What happened?”

  “He yelled.” Her blue eyes darkened with pain. “He didn’t hit me. In a way, that was worse. He told me I was useless. That I couldn’t do anything right. He told me he was sorry he’d married me, but he would stick it out because it was the right thing to do. I didn’t feel strong anymore.”

  Tanner felt his anger begin to fade. “Did you love him?”

  “No,” she whispered, as if afraid Christopher would hear her and punish her. “At first I thought I did, but not for long. He frightened me. I tried not to let him know, but I think he guessed. Then I decided to ignore him and live my own life.”

  “When you got involved with the children?”

  A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Yes. With them.”

  “Are you glad you’re divorced?”

  Her expression turned fierce. “Yes. I’m sorry I ever married him. I’m sorry I bought into his lies. I don’t even hate him. Hate would mean energy and caring, and I refuse to waste either on him. I simply want him out of my life.”

  “Did you ever write Christopher letters begging him to take you back?”

  “No.”

  She spoke without hesitation, but he already knew the truth. Maybe he always had. His reaction to those letters had been visceral—as if someone he cared about had betrayed him. The unexpected emotion had caused him to react. Not exactly a moment to be proud of.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She sighed. “Don’t be. You saved me. He’s going to kill me, you know. Unless we can stop him. I think it’s been his plan for a long time. He never forgave me for that family.”

  “What family?”

  “The one I brought home.” She shook her head and smiled. “Middlewood. I remember thinking it sounded so British, but they were from Mississippi. Cajun, mostly, but someone somewhere had picked up the last name. Little Jenny had been born with several bones missing in her face. I arranged the surgery, the transportation, all of it. But then there was a problem with the hotel and it was a holiday weekend and they had nowhere to go.”

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  “Took them home with me. Christopher was not happy. He flew into a rage and screamed so long and so hard, I packed everyone up and drove east until I finally found us a hotel room in San Bernardino. I thought he was going to kill one of us.”

  She stared at him. “I knew then it was over. That the marriage was dead and if I didn’t leave, I would be d
ead, too. Back then I didn’t think he would really kill me physically, but I knew he would make me so weak that I would start to disappear. I didn’t write those letters.”

  “I know.”

  “I just wanted to live my life. Without him. With my kids.” The smile returned. “They’re so great. Tough and sweet and determined. They don’t care about the surgeries or the recoveries. They never complain about the pain. They just want to be normal. I could do that. Oh, not me personally. Doctors perform the real miracles. But I could help. I could pull it all together. And the more I worked with those kids, the stronger I got.”

  Her words shamed him. She was everything she claimed, and he’d been too caught up in his own pain to notice. He’d abused his position in her life to bully her. In his own way, he was no better than Hilliard.

  “Why do you talk about being strong and weak?” he asked.

  “Because I have to stay strong. I have to make life better. I never wanted to be useless or frail or crazy.”

  “You’re not crazy.”

  Her eyes had dilated so much, they were black instead of blue. She blinked. “It’s there, you know. The fear of it. Lurking. Breathing like a great beast. It calls to me, but I turn my back on the sounds. I ignore the whispers.”

  “What whispers?”

  “The ones that say I’m like my mother. That I’m crazy, too.”

  He knew he shouldn’t ask. That it wasn’t his damn business. But he wanted to know.

  “Your mother’s been gone for a long time. What does she have to do with anything?”

  “She was weak,” Madison whispered. “Crazy. She would go away for long periods of time. They always told me she was resting. When I was little I used to wonder why my mother was always so tired, but as I got older I realized they were just keeping the truth from me. She was locked away in a mental institution.”

  “You don’t have to tell me this,” Tanner said, sorry he’d asked. Not because he didn’t want to know, but because it was wrong to be listening.

  “She was so beautiful,” Madison continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “So beautiful. Everyone said she was. They said I looked like her, but I didn’t. Not even close. When she was home and feeling better, she would play with me and dress me and do my hair. But when she was sick…”