All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel

by Dixie Lee Brown

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  * * *

  Friday, 4:00 am

  JOE’S ALARM JARRED Cara awake, and she held her breath as he crawled from the bed. Fear clawed at her chest. Why did she agree to stay here? She knew what he was up against. He might never return. She bit her lower lip and fought down the panic turning her insides to butter.

  He dressed in the bathroom, probably hoping she’d sleep. As though she could. She slipped into her robe and paced the length of the room until he opened the door and his gaze locked with hers.

  She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. “Please don’t go. We could leave the country—hide until David gets over it and moves on.”

  “You’re the one who said he’d never give up. I have to finish this. I won’t live worrying about him coming after you.” He pulled her closer and his voice softened. “Your new life begins today, Cara, and that includes never having to look over your shoulder.” He leaned back and one hand tilted her chin up. “Do you remember what you promised?”

  “Yes.” She pulled away from his hand and looked at the floor.

  “I need to hear you say it.”

  She hesitated, taking a deep breath. “I promise I’ll stay here and wait for you to call. You better call me, Joe.”

  “I will. I promise.” He pulled her close again and kissed her hard, pressing something into her hand, before abruptly setting her away from him. Without another word, he grabbed the rest of his gear and left.

  She gripped the cell phone he’d slipped into her hand, while fear tingled in every nerve ending. He’d call her. He promised. She trusted him.

  A few minutes later she heard the choppers. They came in one at a time, loaded up, and lifted off. Four military transport helicopters in all. She sat on the edge of the bed and listened until the last rotor faded into the distance.

  After a few minutes of silent prayer, Cara got up and turned her mind to what she had to do. She showered, dressed, and started to put on the sling, before deciding she could go without it for a while. When she was ready, she dialed Sam’s number. She had to tell him she’d changed her mind. Later, she’d figure some way to make it up to him.

  He didn’t answer his phone.

  Cara redialed every ten minutes until the first light of dawn began to steal across the lake. Still no answer. Did something go wrong? Maybe he changed his mind. She dialed one more time and frowned when it went to voice mail. Maybe there’d been an accident bringing the boat across the lake. If he couldn’t answer his phone, she’d have to go find him. With worry for Joe and Sam making her tremble with nervous energy, she changed into her running clothes and left the house.

  Dillon charged from his kennel when she released him, eager to accompany her. An attack of guilt caught her as she crossed the compound. She knew Rayna and Sanchez would worry if they discovered her missing. It was their job to keep her safe—and that meant keeping her here, but Cara didn’t have time to argue with them now. It’d be easier to explain after the fact. Anyway, she’d be back before they knew she was gone. At the gate, she punched the security code into the keypad. The heavy metal fence rolled open, and she ran through. Just outside the gate, she dialed Sam’s number again. Still no answer. Calling Dillon to heel, she started off at a slow, careful jog.

  Dillon was as impatient with her leisurely pace as Rayna had been. He took off ahead of her, following first one scent trail, then another. No need to worry about him. He’d be back to check on her before taking off again. She rounded a corner and approached the spot where she would leave the trail. From there, she’d push downhill, through trees and brush, to the lake where Sam had agreed to meet her. If the boat wasn’t there, she’d know he’d run into some kind of trouble.

  The pathway closed in around her as overhanging trees crowded the narrow trail. She slowed to a walk just as loud rustling came from the bushes on the slope above her. Joe’s warning about wild animals popped into her head, and fear quickened her breathing. She reached for her gun before she remembered it was in the bag Sam had taken from the house. It would be in the boat, if there was a boat, forty feet below the trail. Keeping her eyes on the undergrowth that seemed to be the source of the noise, she grabbed her cell phone and then stopped. Who could she call that would be any help to her in the next five seconds? Then she remembered Dillon and whistled, loud and shrill.

  As the rustling grew louder and drew closer, she moved to the edge of the trail. Should she leave the path and run toward the lake, hoping Sam and the boat were there? It wasn’t likely she could outrun a wild animal, especially through dense underbrush. She tried to think calmly as she backed away from its approach. Running at least offered a chance, whereas standing still in front of a bear or a mountain lion did not.

  Her decision came too late. The rustling stopped a few feet from her. A tall, dark form slapped away the last of its cover and stepped onto the trail.

  “Sam? What are you doing up here?” Her legs turned to rubber as relief flooded her. Staring at him in disbelief, she laughed to cover her panic. “You scared me to death.”

  “I’m sorry.” He stepped toward her. Something in his stance made her wary.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “It will be.”

  An instant too late, she saw his raised hand. The object he held caught the light for just a second as it dropped toward her. A needle jabbed her neck, and a burning sensation crawled along her skin. He grabbed her arm as she stumbled away from him. Incredulous, she stared at him, his face blurring in front of her eyes.

  “Why?” Her voice croaked around a tongue that already felt too large for her mouth.

  Dillon’s menacing growl broke through the haze that clouded her mind. She pulled away from Sam’s hand on her elbow as the dog lunged. Sam managed to get his arm up just in time to protect his face. He swore as Dillon clamped down on his forearm. Blood soaked through his sleeve. Sam tried to shake the dog loose, but Dillon held on, a vicious growl coming from deep inside.

  Sam pulled a gun and Cara screamed, lunging for the dog. “No!” She couldn’t let him hurt Dillon. Her body betrayed her, however, moving too slow and clumsily.

  The gun’s loud report startled her. The dog yelped and went quiet.

  “Dillon!” The cell phone dropped from her hand as her legs gave out. Sam caught her, and everything went black.

  Friday, 8:03 am

  CARA WOKE WITH a blinding headache, the rumbling of some kind of engine vibrating the contents of her nauseous stomach. Her hands and feet were bound tightly and something covered her mouth. She was wrapped snugly in what she assumed was a blanket, and she couldn’t breathe. In panic, she started to kick and flop around, groaning.

  Suddenly, the cover was torn off. She looked into Sam’s grim face. He knelt beside her and ripped the tape from her lips.

  “No need for that anymore. It was just a precaution in case you woke before we got on the plane. As you can see, we made it.”

  “You lying pig!”

  “Now, careful. If you can’t be civil, I’ll put that gag back on.”

  “How much is David paying you?” She hoped she was wrong, and her heart sank when he confirmed her suspicion.

  “Enough to make it worth my while. I offered you a way out of this, if you recall.”

  “Am I supposed to be sorry I didn’t take you up on it? You’re the same kind of monster he is.” She flinched as he leaned close to her face.

  “Honey, you don’t know what kind of a monster I am.” He slapped the tape back on her mouth, stood, and walked away.

  Cara was helpless—trussed up like a sheep for the offering. Instead of going to kill David, she was being delivered into his hands. She knew what that meant. When he was done, he would kill her. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t fight. She couldn’t even scream. All she could do was lie there, anticipating, and feel her heart turn black with hatred.

  Friday, 8:10 am

  JOE LED TWENTY of his best men, geared up and
ready for battle, as they rappelled from choppers to the back side of Dennelli’s wooded estate. They traveled rapidly downhill toward their target. Walker, and three others with sniper rifles, already circled ahead of them. It was their job to take out the cameras and any sentries they ran into. So far, they hadn’t encountered any opposition.

  “Joe, we got all the cameras. I haven’t seen a soul outside.” Walker reported in through his earpiece microphone.

  “We’ll take the house on my order.” Joe was wired and ready. He’d wanted this dirtbag since the first time Cara talked about him. He wanted revenge for everything Dennelli put her through, but mostly he wanted her to be free so she’d never have to be afraid again… and so she’d stay with him. The airwaves were quiet as the men assumed the positions they’d drilled on most of yesterday. Four men would go through the back door, two in through the garage, four more through the front door. The rest would remain outside Dennelli’s palatial residence to watch their backs. When everyone was in place, Joe gave the order.

  They all moved as one, advancing on the house, breaking down doors, going from room to room amid cries of “clear” as, one by one, they came up empty. After they searched every room, the men drifted back outside, clearly disappointed there hadn’t been any action.

  Joe was furious. He yanked out his phone and dialed. “What the hell is going on, Murphy? Did you miss the fact Dennelli isn’t even here, or did you think we needed some practice?”

  “What do you mean he’s not there?”

  “The son of a bitch is gone.”

  “Calm down. They were there late yesterday. They must have cleared out in a big hurry.”

  “No shit! Why didn’t your intelligence people pick up on that?”

  “I hate to be the one to suggest this, but maybe someone leaked news of your imminent arrival.”

  “My men are handpicked. I trust every one of them.”

  “What about your housekeeper? Dugan’s sister? Cara? Are they all trustworthy too?”

  The thought of Irene turning against him was laughable. She was loyal to a fault and believed she owed him more than she’d ever repay in her lifetime. Rayna was rash and had been known to do stupid things on occasion, but she wanted to belong too badly to screw up like this. Cara? She promised him. He believed her. He’d stake his life on the fact she wouldn’t do anything to warn Dennelli. She hated him more than Joe did.

  “If there was a leak, it didn’t come from my end. What about your staff?”

  “This op is strictly off the books. No one knew about it but me. Not even the chopper pilots knew what was going on.”

  “Then what the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. I’ll get back to you.”

  As Joe hung up, the phone rang again.

  “Cara’s gone. I can’t find her anywhere.” The words gushed from Rayna, her voice high-pitched and scared.

  Joe’s gut clenched in sudden fear. “Take it easy. Tell me what happened.”

  “Sanchez heard a gunshot about thirty minutes ago, down by the lake. We didn’t think too much about it until we saw Dillon wasn’t in his kennel. I went to see if he was in Cara’s room, and she wasn’t there.”

  Joe had an image of where he’d seen Cara last and moved away from the men standing close enough to hear before he spoke again. “Check my room. She was there when I left this morning.”

  “She’s not there. We searched the house and the grounds, and then we went around the lake trail. Joe, we found Dillon. He’s been shot.”

  “What?”

  “He’s alive. Sanchez is taking him to the vet. He thinks the dog will be okay, but… we found Cara’s cell phone on the trail beside Dillon.”

  “Sam!” Joe hissed the name. “Son of a bitch. Have Sanchez go by Sam’s place. If he’s there, hold on to him until I get there. I need him alive. Shit! My guess is he’s long gone, and so is Cara.”

  “I’m sorry, Joe. She was my responsibility and I screwed up. What can I do to help find her?”

  “With Sanchez in town, you’re in charge, Rayna. Make sure no one gets in and take care of Irene. Don’t blame yourself. This one’s on me.” Joe swore again as he ended the call.

  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

  “WE 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

  SAM 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 bre
ath 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.