by Desiree Holt
“Why would I be kidding?” She gripped her hands together and willed herself to stop trembling. She could still barely process what happened.
“But then…” His voice trailed off. His eyes raked her from head to toe, assessing her.
“Mark Halloran and I have been…friends all our lives. He always teased me about my height. That’s where the name came from. I’ve been Tidbit since I was twelve.”
“I think the coffee is ready,” Tia broke in. “I could sure use a cup. Why don’t we all go into the kitchen?”
“Good idea,” Rick said.
Faith got the coffeemaker going again, but was careful to brew tea for herself. She was still hyper from the caffeine she’d absorbed earlier. Big mistake, she told herself. Now she could hardly stop her hands from shaking. Or was it the near miss that had her trembling so badly?
When they were seated at the table, each with a steaming mug of liquid, Rick nailed Faith with a cold glare.
“Okay. Truth or consequences time. You say you want to get help for Mark, but why? As far as we know, Mark’s dead.” Bitterness crept into his voice. “Killed by the same people who nearly did in my brother. And I’m not a person whose name people toss around lightly, or who can easily be contacted. So give.”
She sipped at her coffee, trying to collect her scattered thoughts. “You’re right. I had to dig very deep to find you.”
“Here’s another question. How the hell did you even know who I was? I have no idea of what your relationship with Mark is…was…but I’m, damn sure he didn’t discuss me with you.”
“To tell you the truth,” she sighed, an ache in her heart, “I think we almost waited too long to find out what that relationship is. And no, he never told me about you. Mark…compartmentalized his life. He had this outrageous idea he had to protect me from everything beyond the two square feet around me. That we would just be status quo until he was through playing solider…” She broke off and swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks.
I will not cry. I will not fall apart in front of this man. Mark needs me. I’m his only hope.
“Here.” Tia grabbed napkins from the counter and shoved them at her.
Faith blotted her eyes and balled up the napkin. “Sorry. I’m not usually such a running faucet.”
Rick’s face softened a little. “That’s okay. Take your time.” His mouth twisted in a rueful grin. “You were talking about Mark playing soldier.”
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…That’s not…”
“That’s all right. Don’t worry. I understand.”
“Do you?” She leaned toward him. “Do you really? Like I told you, Mark and I have been friends… I mean really friends, before anything else…for a very long time.” She paused to weigh her words. She didn’t want to give intimate information away to this man unless she had to.
“Go ahead,” he urged.
“But despite how we felt…feel…Mark didn’t think we could move forward as long as he was in the service. Too risky, he said. We needed to do what we needed to and then see where we were when he was finished.” She twisted her hands together. “Can you understand how I admired what he was doing but resented it at the same time?”
“Yeah, I can.”
“When I learned that he spent time with you and your…friends and might join Phoenix when his current tour was up, it was a shock but that’s why he kept that to himself.”
Rick narrowed his eyes at her. “And just how did you learn all this?”
She gave him a watery smile. “What’s that old line? I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”
All the muscles in his body tightened. “Miss Wilding. I need to know some things here. Like exactly why you contacted me and how the hell you even knew to call me. How did you find out about Phoenix?”
“I found out about your brother because he’s in Mark’s unit. You’re listed as his only close relative.”
“Yeah? Just where did you find this information? We’ve gone to great length to be impenetrable to random searches. Yet someone got you information. I want to know who and how.”
“I’ll tell you what, Mr. Latrobe. You help me with my problem and I’ll even introduce you to that person.”
“Rick,” he corrected. “Call me Rick. I think we’re way past being formal here. And what kind of problem are we talking about?”
“I’m talking about someone sending me threatening messages and trying to kill me.” She had her mug in a death grip. “Whose cage have I rattled that would take such drastic steps to shut me up?”
Rick rubbed his hand against his cheek. “I’d say you pushed someone’s button. We’ll need to go over everything you’ve done for the past few days. I want to check both those messages out too. What else?”
“How do you think they got to me? To go after me?”
“I think if you tell me why you ferreted me out, we might find the answer to that. And what you mean about Mark sending you messages.” His eyes were like bolts of lightning staring at her. “Tell me, Miss Wilding. Messages from a dead man? What kind of crazy story is that?”
“Faith,” she corrected. “As long as we’re dropping formalities.”
“Fine. Faith. Let’s not be coy here, okay? What did you mean you have a message from Mark?”
She got up to refill her coffee mug. “I get the impression you know Mark pretty well.”
She sat down in her chair again, aware that Tia was watching both of them with avid interest. Waiting to see if I’m going to let Mark’s secret out. Well, I don’t have much choice anymore. “How much do you know about Mark’s special ability?”
Rick’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “Special ability?”
Faith pursed her lips. He knew. She could tell by the involuntary flicker in his eyes. “Mr. Latrobe. Rick. I think we need to be honest with each other. We each have an agenda here. We have to put them both on the table and we can’t play games with each other. So I’ll ask you once more, do you know about Mark’s special ability?”
Rick stared into his coffee cup, then looked up as if he’d come to a decision. “If you’re referring to his telepathic ability, then yes, I know about it. We discussed it because Major Gregorio wanted him to be tested for a special unit Delta Force is working on. I wasn’t aware anyone else knew about it.”
“As I said before, Mark and I have been friends forever. We discovered that we could communicate this way years ago. It’s been a…special bond between us.” She brushed a stray hair away from her face and visibly pulled herself together. “All right, then. Before I go on, I assume your interest in this whole thing is because of your brother. I understand he’s still unconscious at Walter Reed Hospital.”
Again the same, emotionless eyes reading her face. “Actually he’s no longer there. And that’s all you need to know about that. But I think what you have to tell me may coincide with Joey’s situation.”
Faith just sat for a moment, gathering herself to plunge into her story.
Tia patted her arm and got up to make fresh coffee. “Go on,” she said in a soft voice. “You’re out of options and this guy seems like someone you can trust. It’s obvious Mark did.”
“You’re right. I don’t have any more time to waste.”
Staring into her coffee mug, she told Rick about communication between Mark and herself, the details of the messages, trying to remember as much of each one as she could. She also told him about her empathic abilities and her belief that Mark was undergoing terrible torture. In return, he reluctantly told her about Joey, about John Gregorio’s phone call and about snatching his brother out of the hospital.
“Joey’s conscious now and giving us some information.”
Faith grabbed his wrist. “About Mark? What happened to him? Then you know he’s alive, right? Do you know where he is?”
“In a minute. Let’s get to what’s happening to you. People don’t just run around trying to kill innocuous authors. Who have you talked to ab
out this so-called project of yours?”
“No one. I was trying to take the roundabout way, get to Major Gregorio and see if I could pry anything loose from him and if he’d listen to what I had to say without thinking I was crazy. The only people I’ve talked to in the last couple of days, besides my aunt who I can swear to you isn’t involved in this, are the major, his CO Colonel Ryan, who was in his office when I got there and Trey, er, Senator Winslow.”
Rick lifted one eyebrow. “You and the senator on first name terms?”
“He’s been a good resource for me for my books. I couldn’t get Major Gregorio to return my calls, so…”
“So you used a little political muscle.” Rick’s mouth twisted. “I don’t suppose it occurred to you he could be involved in whatever’s going?”
“Trey?” She was shocked. “Oh, no. I don’t think so.”
“I promise you the major didn’t call out a hit on you. That doesn’t leave a lot of other people.”
“I can’t believe the senator would be involved in anything like this. Whatever this is.”
Rick looked at her for a long time, as if making up his mind about something. Finally he drained his mug and set it down with great care. “What I’m going to tell you goes no farther than here.” He slid a glance at Tia.
“You can trust her,” Faith assured him. “Believe me.”
He shrugged. “It’s your life and Mark’s we’re playing with here, so it’s your call. Okay. Here’s what Joey gave us.”
Using the information from Joey and the messages from Mark, at the end of an hour they had a very unpleasant and frightening picture of what had happened and what the situation was with Mark.
“But we have to find him,” Faith insisted. “I don’t know how much longer he can hold out.”
“We will. We have to do this quickly but carefully.”
“How will you find his exact location? You said Joey told you they moved him.”
“We’ll find him. But the question is what to do with you.”
“Me?” She looked at him, puzzled.
“You can’t stay here. They’ll make another run at you.”
“He’s right,” Tia agreed. “They won’t just say so sad, too bad and walk away.”
Rick nodded. “If someone wants to kill you badly enough to do that in broad daylight, they won’t stop until they get the job done.”
Panic suddenly clawed at her. “But what can I do? Where can I go?”
Rick stood up and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Give me a minute.”
He headed for the front hall, punching in numbers as he walked. Faith strained to hear what he was saying but he was turned away from her and spoke in a tone of voice too soft to distinguish the words.
“What do you think he’s planning?” Tia’s forehead was creased with worry.
“I don’t know.” Faith was trying to conceal her own anxiety. “But he’s right. We can’t stay here. Oh God, Tia. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Hey.” Tia rose from her chair and hugged Faith. “You didn’t drag me into anything. When I found that stuff on the ’net about Al Qaeda I could have told you to bag the plot and go back to the original book. Or said I didn’t want to work on this. I’m a big girl. I make my own decisions.”
“All right.” Rick was back in the kitchen. “Here’s the plan. Faith, do you have something like a gym bag you can just throw some things into?”
“Yes but for how long? Where are we going?”
“Later. Right now we need to get out of here. While I was on the telephone I spotted a plumbing company truck across the street. Now, your neighbors may actually have sprung a leak but it showed up just a little too coincidentally.”
Faith swallowed hard, willing herself not to panic. She had to trust this man. Her life, Tia’s and most of all Mark’s depended on it. “All right. I’ll go get ready. What about Tia?”
“She’ll have to come too. Sorry,” he told her. “It’s too risky to leave you here. Even if you go home they could follow you, grab you to use as bait for Faith.”
Tia paled. “But I can’t just pick up and leave like this.” She twisted her hands together. “People will ask questions. I mean…”
Rick ground his teeth. “They’ll ask a lot more questions if they have to identify your body.”
“God, Tia.” Faith felt as if they were falling through Alice’s Looking Glass. “This is all my fault. I am so very, very sorry.”
Tia visibly pulled herself together. “Quit saying that.”
“It’s nobody’s fault.” Rick’s voice was sharp with impatience. “Except for the person who dropped the dime on the mission. But we don’t have any time to waste here. Faith. Is there another way out of here except through the front?”
She nodded. “On Halloween the kids cut through the hedge at the back of my yard to my neighbors.”
“Okay. Go get ready.”
“You can wear some of my stuff,” Faith told the other woman. “We’re about the same size. Come on.”
“Tell me how to access your email while you’re doing this,” Rick told her. “I want to look at the message and also play the one on the recorder.”
Faith gave him the information as she and Tia headed upstairs.
“Don’t bring anything fancy,” Rick called after them.
Faith just snorted.
The two women were back downstairs in under ten minutes, Faith lugging an oversized duffle bag filled to bulging. They’d both changed into jeans and t-shirts and carried lightweight cotton jackets.
“Good,” Rick said. “Very good. All right. Here’s the drill. Tia, you go first. Through the hedge to the next street over. Faith, as soon as she’s out of sight, you go. Let Tia take the duffle.”
“And then what?”
“I’m going to get in my car and leave. They won’t follow me. They’ll think I’m leaving you alone so they’ll get a chance at you. I’ll pick you up on the next block.”
Faith’s heart hammered the whole time they went through the routine but in less than five minutes they were in the big SUV and speeding toward the interstate.
“Where are we going?” Faith asked.
“Right now, the airport. When we get on the plane I’ll answer all your questions.”
They had just pulled onto the interstate when Faith was hit with a sharp pain that doubled her over and left her gasping.
Rick slid her a quick glance. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Mark.” She struggled to breathe. “They’re torturing him again.”
Chapter Fourteen
Trey Winslow picked up the phone in his den, sure the call waiting for him would be anything but good news.
“You were right to be suspicious of Faith Wilding’s relationship with Halloran,” the disembodied voice barked.
“I just had a feeling.” A feeling of dread settled in his stomach. “What have you found?”
“Faith Wilding and Mark Halloran have been friends for more than twenty years. I promise you she knows about his psychic abilities.”
“Damn.”
“Worse yet. She may even have some of her own.”
“What?” The voice rose about twenty decibels.
“I suppose you also don’t know she has an aunt who is a psychic? That she belongs to something called The Lotus Circle?” He spat out a brief description of the organization.
“I don’t—”
“Of course not. Sometimes I wonder how you ever got elected. I’ll bet my job—which I may be doing—that my original suspicion is correct. The Wilding woman’s got the same psychic abilities he has. She’s got to be the one he’s been sending the messages to.”
Winslow felt a sweat break out on his forehead. “Have you talked to Escobedo about that? Has he confirmed it?”
“No, damn it. But he does have a man of his own with the same abilities. He’s supposed to be able to intercept mental messages.”
“And has he?”
> “Unfortunately that asshole Halloran’s obviously figured it out and is forcing himself not to think of her by name. Damn it,” he repeated. “We could all be looking at spending the future in prison if this falls apart.”
“Maybe it’s time to cash in our chips, take what we’ve got and all retire.”
“Oh,” the man barked, “wouldn’t that look sweet? A senator and a high-ranking member of the government suddenly saying bye-bye. Get serious, will you? We have to get rid of that woman. I’ve passed on all this information to those two idiots we hired. They’d better deliver for us.”
“We also need to find Joey Latrobe,” Winslow reminded him. “Your resources are far more extensive than mine.”
“I’m on it.”
“Well, you’d better hope we find him. And that your men get rid of the Wilding woman. I don’t think either one of us is ready to have our lives turned upside if neither of those things happen.”
Winslow slammed the phone down and poured himself a drink. He was afraid the sound echoing in his head was his world cracking around him.
* * * * *
“I don’t know who the man is,” Green said into the telephone, “but if he’s gone here’s your chance. Ring her doorbell. Tell her whatever you have to in order to get her to let you in. Then get it done.”
He snapped his cell phone shut and wiped his forehead with a white linen handkerchief. He and Brown were facing each other in one of the hotel rooms they’d rented, an air of apprehension hanging over them.
“He’ll screw it up,” Brown said at last.
“No. He won’t. He’s one of the best.”
Brown shook his head. “We need better than the best for this. We can’t afford another screwup.”
“There won’t be one.”
As he spoke the phone in his hand rang.
“Is it done yet?” the voice on the other end asked.
Green automatically reached in his pocket for a Tums. By the time they were through with this, his digestive tract would be completely shot, he figured.
“As good as.”
“Unsatisfactory,” the voice bit off. “We’re under the hammer here and she’s a loose cannon. Get rid of her now.” The dead air indicated he’d killed the connection.
