“We have to make sure she doesn’t go back to the casino to warn him.” Murphy was right at his elbow again. Did he think the woman was hard of hearing?
“Damn it, Murphy.” Joe turned, his voice low and hard. “Get the hell out of here and let me do my job.” He’d reached the end of his patience. At the rate Murphy was screwing up, Joe might not salvage anything from this. With an effort, he reined in his temper again. It’d been a long night for all of them… and it wasn’t over yet.
“You’ve patched me up. Go on. Get out of here. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“You need to keep me in the loop.”
“I said I’ll call. Just let me take care of this.” Joe tipped his head toward the outer room. Finally, Murphy retreated and Joe followed, ostensibly to lock the dead bolt behind him, but also to facilitate his exit in case he had second thoughts. With Murphy gone and the door locked, Joe returned to the bedroom.
“Open the door, Cara.” This time he was rewarded with light in the cracks of the door. He smiled grimly. At least she was alive. Probably scared out of her mind, but alive. That was all Charlie had asked of him.
“Don’t make me break the door down. You know how these motels operate. They’ll use my credit card number to build a new wing before they’re through.” He drummed his fingers on the door, keeping his voice calm and unhurried.
“No one’s going to harm you. Do you remember anything that happened tonight?” He slipped quietly to the foot of the bed and sat. “I’m sure you have questions. We need to talk about what happened. Will you agree to that much?”
The silence lengthened. Just when he decided she wasn’t going to answer, the sound of the lock turning gave him his first ray of hope. Slowly, the door swung open. He tensed, watching her closely for some indication she might be planning to make a run for it.
The wisp of a smile curved her lips but did nothing to hide the fear and uncertainty in her eyes. “Does this mean you really are a serial killer?”
Joe chuckled and some of the tension left his body. “I’m just trying to keep you alive.”
Her hair was tousled, her clothes slightly rumpled, and there was a definite sheen to her eyes. Residual effects of the drug. She didn’t look too bad, considering. His gaze wandered over her appraisingly. The door she leaned against appeared to be the only thing holding her up. Still, she was stronger than he thought. She’d been through a lot tonight and was still functioning.
“Who bandaged your arm?”
“Murphy was a medic in Kuwait. He just left.”
“Who was Murphy afraid I would warn at the casino? About what?”
Damn Murphy. She wasn’t ready yet, but would she ever be? Joe shook his head, frowning. “Murphy is somewhat theatrical.”
“I’m free to go then?” She took two wobbly steps toward the outer room.
He rose to intercept her and she stopped, backing up. “When I’m sure it’s safe, I’ll take you back to the casino.”
Her gaze flitted around the room nervously. “Where are we?”
“My motel room.”
“How did I get here? Did you drug me?” Her eyes challenged him.
“That was Murphy’s idea. He’s a little paranoid. The drug should be out of your system soon. You feel okay, don’t you?”
“I feel like a fool for trusting you. Other than that, I’m just great.”
He couldn’t really blame her for that, but didn’t she realize how close she came to dying tonight? He pursed his lips and considered telling her. “You’re pretty good with a gun.”
She seemed to lose some of her confidence as she looked away. Her pulse pounded at the base of her throat.
“I need to call my brother. Let him know I’m okay.” She patted her pockets and then glanced at the bedside stand. “Did my cell phone make it here with me?”
“You can have it when I’m sure it’s safe.”
She glared at him. “This is unbelievable. I didn’t ask for your help, or your attention. There was a time I could have used a knight in shining armor, but I learned the hard way there’s no such thing. So I take care of myself now.”
A barely imperceptible movement of her eye warned him a fraction of a second before she bolted. She whirled and ran through the outer room to the door. Forcing the chain from its slot, she threw the dead bolt and yanked the door open about four inches before Joe caught it and slammed it shut. As she swung around to face him, fear swept across her face.
Damn it. He hadn’t meant to scare her, although a little healthy respect for the trouble she was in wouldn’t hurt. He grabbed her elbow roughly and, after relocking the dead bolt, dragged her to a chair in the far corner of the room. When he released her, she rubbed her arm and glowered at him.
“Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on? Who are you and why were those men trying to kill you?”
He pulled another chair around, straddled it, and sat facing her. “Name’s Joe Reynolds. Those men weren’t trying to kill me, at least not in the beginning.”
“Really?” Her voice dripped with skepticism. “What were they doing?”
He held her gaze, his expression unchanging, letting her come to her own conclusions. An instant later she gasped and looked at her hands. In that one fleeting glance before she dropped her gaze, he recognized stark terror. It was his turn to be confused. Just how much did this woman know?
A moment later, she met his eyes, her fear evidently under control again. “You think they were after me?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“Someone wants you dead. Any ideas?” Either she already knew about her brother, or there was someone else she was scared of. Possibly the man who left his mark on her throat.
“Yes. I’ve got a few ideas.”
“Care to share?”
“I’ll tell you all my secrets when you tell me yours.”
He looked down and she laughed scornfully.
“I didn’t think so. I’d like to leave now.”
“When it’s safe…”
“Yes. I heard you the first three times.” Cara smiled humorlessly. “So, you’re going to keep me here against my will… for my own protection?”
Joe nodded again.
“I hope you weren’t planning on sleeping.”
A smile tugged as his gaze ran the length of her. “I’m perfectly capable of keeping you occupied so you aren’t tempted to leave.”
Her body tensed as anger hardened her expression. “Who are you? Why do you care? The last thing you need to do is get involved in a domestic dispute, especially this one.”
“Domestic dispute?” Aw, hell! Charlie didn’t mention this complication. As Joe studied her, his confusion was mirrored on her face. What the hell was going on?
“This isn’t about David, is it?”
“David?”
“Ex-husband. Bad temper. Mafia connections.”
Caught off guard momentarily, he tried not to show his surprise. “No. It’s not your ex-husband… but that explains your talent with a gun.”
“No, it doesn’t, but there’s no one else who would want to hurt me. This is all a big mistake.”
“No mistake. There is someone else, and he wants you dead.”
“Who?”
He hesitated briefly. “Your half brother, Brian Sinclair.” He carefully watched her expression and mannerisms. He could usually tell when someone was lying, and right now he really needed to determine how much Cara knew about her brother’s illegal activities.
“Brian?” Cara shook her head. “That’s insane. Brian’s the only good thing in my life.”
“That’s a damn shame. Do you know he sells automatic weapons to the highest bidder in places like Somalia and Ethiopia so twelve-year-old kids can go to war with enough firepower to level a village?”
“That’s impossible. Brian would never take a chance with my father’s company. He’s an honest man.”
“So honest he put a contract out on you t
onight just for laughs.”
“You don’t know Brian. He wouldn’t do that.”
Joe’s gaze locked on hers. Was she really so naïve? Did she expect him to believe she was that gullible? His restraint began to slip and anger spilled into his voice. “You remember Charlie Dugan?”
Confusion furrowed her brow. “Charlie? What does he have to do with any of this? You’re wasting my time.” She jumped up, and he pushed her roughly back in the chair.
“You didn’t seem very upset when Charlie disappeared, even though the two of you dated for three months. Didn’t you care about him? Or was there more to it than that? Were you in on it, Cara? Did you set Charlie up?” His hands shook as he grasped the back of the chair and struggled to keep his rage under control.
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tried to get up again, but his warning glance put her back in her seat.
“Dugan worked for me, undercover. He learned something about your company, but your brother killed him before he could tell me what it was. What he did tell me before he died was Brian Sinclair is embezzling from the company and plans to pin it on you… after you’re dead.”
“What?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Charlie wouldn’t believe you were involved. He made me promise to keep you alive. That’s the only reason I’m here. He was a good friend, and if I find out you had anything to do with his murder, I’ll personally stake you out for your brother’s next hired gun to find.”
Caught up in his anger, her soft gasp and sickly pallor didn’t register right away. When it did, her expression went from indignation, to confusion, to horror in the space of a few seconds. She made no denial. No acknowledgment. Her eyes met his. Never before had he seen such emptiness. Tears rushed to her eyes and her eyelids worked furiously to keep them back. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sounds escaped.
The agony in her eyes nailed him and made him feel every inch the callous bastard he was. His anger disappeared, along with the last of his doubts. He knew now, with certainty, she hadn’t been involved in Charlie’s death. Cara didn’t even know he was dead, and Joe had made no effort to soften the blow.
Chapter Three
* * *
Friday, 10:55 pm
CARA ONLY HALF comprehended Joe’s threat, or anything else beyond your brother killed him. Pain knifed through her, and she struggled to breathe. Anger, denial, sorrow, guilt. As soon as one emotion surfaced, it gave way to the next.
Charlie was dead?
No. He’d simply tired of waiting for her to acknowledge their relationship, and he’d moved on… or her ex-husband coerced him into leaving Portland… not dead. It couldn’t be true, but the fury in Joe’s eyes said it was. He seemed convinced Brian killed Charlie. The idea was ludicrous… and yet, her brother hadn’t been surprised when Charlie disappeared. He hired a new CFO before the day was over.
My God! Is it true? Could I have been so blind?
Tears stung her eyelids. Panic numbed her, as her breathing wheezed in and out of her lungs. She was losing it, but no way in hell would she have a meltdown in front of Joe. Desperate to escape, she glanced at the door then at him as he leaned back and frowned. From the corner of her eyes, she spotted the sliding glass door on the wall behind her, jumped up, and stumbled out onto a small deck overlooking the beach. Thankfully, Joe didn’t follow her.
It was hard to even stand under the crushing weight of guilt that bore down on her. Charlie… undercover? She’d been close to him. How could she not have known? Was it her fault? Did she fail him when he needed her the most? Each question drove the knife deeper into her heart.
He’d wanted to move their relationship to the next level, but she wasn’t ready. After he stopped calling, she assumed he’d given up on her. When he didn’t show up for work, and all of his things were moved out of his apartment, Brian suggested her ex-husband might have paid Charlie to leave town. It was easy enough to believe… but maybe she’d been afraid to dig any deeper.
Charlie had been a good friend to her. A kind and patient man. Given enough time, she could have trusted him, and they might have been more than friends. She missed him a lot when he disappeared.
Apparently, though, it had all been a lie. He’d only been pretending, and she was merely a means to an end. Still, he didn’t deserve to be murdered. Was it possible Brian had him killed? Would her brother hire someone to kill her? Cara pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to stop her thoughts from swirling out of control. She didn’t want to believe any of it… but she had to know for sure.
The surf roared as the frothy waves rolled onto the shore. To the south, a bonfire lit up the beach, and a handful of people sat around the flickering light. A couple walked along the water’s edge in darkness. She could barely make out their silhouettes. These people would all go to bed tonight, get up in the morning and begin another day.
Life goes on . . . but not for Charlie. She shivered as terror washed over her. Earlier tonight, on another dark stretch of beach, she would have died, if not for Joe. He gave her another chance. What was she going to do with it?
She had to know the truth.
Cara swung around and collided with Joe. The crashing waves had covered the sound of his approach. His eyes held a question as he studied her, but she saw no sign of the fury he’d unleashed against her only moments ago. He stepped aside and let her go through the door first, then followed and closed the slider.
Her back to him, hiding the tears that rimmed her eyes, she asked the question that was tearing her up inside. “Was there anything I could have done to save him?” When he didn’t answer right away, she turned to face him.
His gaze, almost tender, searched her face.
“Was there?”
“No, there was nothing anyone could do.” Frustration clouded his expression.
“Is there any proof Brian did what you say he did?”
“Your brother apparently wanted me to know what would happen to the next man he caught snooping around. He recorded it, and the tape was still running when I got there. It was his sick way of warning me off.” Joe took a step closer. “I’m not going to lie to you, Cara, the tape is gruesome. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take my word for it?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Like hell she’d take his word. Did he really think she’d believe her brother was a murderer simply because he said so?
“It won’t be easy to listen to.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and the sympathy in his eyes angered her.
She shrugged off his hand. “Just let me listen to the damn tape.” Where did he get off feeling sorry for her? He didn’t even know her.
Immediately, his expression became guarded again. When he didn’t respond with anger or sarcasm, as she’d expected, instant remorse prickled at her conscience.
Exhaustion and shock drained what was left of her fight. She sighed and looked away. “Please… I need to hear it for myself.”
Joe pulled a small cassette tape from his shirt pocket, snapped it into a tape player he retrieved from one of his bags, and handed it to her.
“Alone.” Cara turned toward the other room.
“I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.” Joe’s calm voice followed her across the room.
In the solitude of the bedroom once again, she pushed the PLAY button.
Gruesome wasn’t even close. The hideous pain and torture Charlie endured was more than she could comprehend and had her wishing over and over again that death would take him and stop his suffering. Guilt followed and then anger grew, until full-blown fury consumed her. It was Brian’s voice giving the orders, although it seemed impossible her brother was capable of such cruelty. Obviously he was, since burning human flesh, breaking bones, and slicing off various appendages appeared to be firmly within his realm. There was only one explanation. The brother she thought she knew was a stranger… and a monster. She didn’t really know Brian.
Charlie lived long enough for Joe to reach h
im. Joe had told her what Charlie said, but to hear his voice ripped at her heart. You have to keep Cara safe, Joe. Promise me.
The tape ended abruptly, leaving her sickened, exhausted, and angrier than she’d ever been. The shame was so great she didn’t know if she could bear it. Turning the light out, she dropped onto the bed and prayed for sleep as she lay frozen in a fetal position, numb, staring into the darkness. Sometime in the early hours of the morning she dozed fitfully.
Something jarred her awake. A sound? No. Someone was in the room with her. David! How did he find her?
The familiar terror washed over her as she rose to her knees and scanned the room, every muscle tensed. A ribbon of light trickled through the outer door, left slightly ajar, casting shadows that disoriented her.
Where was he? Concentrating on the dark corners of the room, she stared and squinted until her eyes ached. He was here. She was sure she caught the whiff of the musky cologne he always wore. God, she hated that smell. She had to get out of here. Where was he?
There! On the other side of the bed. So close!
Cara scrambled to her feet, landing on the narrow strip of carpet between the bed and the wall. Shoving herself backward, she slammed into the wall behind her. There was nowhere to go. The dark figure, sitting statue-like six feet from her, would easily catch her if she tried to run for the door. Her gaze fastened on the shadow across from her, waiting for the slightest movement. Her heart beat out of control and her breathing came hard and raspy, the only sound in the room.
A spark of anger ignited within her. What was he waiting for? He always wanted the same thing, and he wanted her to be as terrified as possible. Well, she wasn’t going to give him that. She wasn’t going to be afraid of him any longer.
Slowly, carefully, never taking her eyes from the silent figure, she felt along the floor with her foot. Finally, her toe struck something. Not too heavy—square—flat. A book. The Bible that had been on the nightstand? She must have knocked it off in her panic. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it would have to do. Her foot slowly drew the book closer to her body.
All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel Page 3
