Deadly Secrets, Loving Lies

by Cynthia Cooke

  “He did?” She propped herself up on one elbow and stared down at him.

  “Well, one of them. We don’t know who texted you but we don’t believe it was Becca.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because she’s the one who texted me to meet you at the warehouse. I have to believe she wanted me there to help you. There’s no mole, Genie. No inside leak. It was Becca, and most likely she got the number from your dad.”

  Genie nodded. “She did. Dad confirmed that tonight.”

  “I hate to say it, but the one who’s been keeping the most secrets here has been your dad.”

  She sighed, knowing he was right. Her dad and herself. But it’s something they’ve always had to do. To protect themselves, because they weren’t like everyone else. They weren’t normal, and why she thought she could ever have a normal life…

  “There’s one more thing Cameron found out. Something we need to question your dad about in the morning.”

  Her stomach tightened. Her dad wouldn’t be there in the morning, either.

  “The clipping about the scientist in your dad’s box. Tom Garrison used to work for your father. And we think he might be related to Emerich. That’s his middle name.”

  The tightness within her turned and twisted. “My God.”

  “Do you remember the date of the clipping? Garrison disappeared the same weekend your mother died. I’d say there’s a good chance your dad was somehow involved.”

  Her whole body felt like a lead weight. She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t make herself speak, because somehow she knew, as horrible as it all sounded, that it must be true.

  “You okay?” Kyle asked, and pulled her back to him, sweeping his hands down her bare back.

  “Yes.” She thought of the vision of the man raising his hand above his head as if he were warding off a blow. Had it been Tom Garrison?

  Had her father hit him?

  Killed him?

  “You know, I honestly think your father has spent too many years at CTA, too many years living in secret, and it’s skewed his judgment. He’s all alone and doesn’t trust anyone. That’s not a good way to live.”

  His words resonated inside her. That was exactly the same way she’d been living for the last eight months, following her father’s instructions, believing his lies. She didn’t want to go back to living like that. Alone, miserable, and paranoid.

  She kissed Kyle. Tenderly at first, her tongue sweeping inside his mouth, tasting him. Absorbing him. She didn’t want to lose him again.

  “Soon, everything will be out in the open and we will finally be able to be together,” he murmured.

  His mouth moved over hers, igniting the slow burn that had been simmering beneath the surface. Heat encompassed her, moving quickly through her body. Her hands kneaded the muscles of his back, pulling him closer. His fingers traveled over her, all of her, stroking, caressing. He tore his mouth away from hers and ran his tongue over the sensitive flesh of her neck. Her head dropped back as a soft moan escaped her lips.

  “Cameron says Emerich is close,” he said softly as he kissed her. “He’s on a yacht not too far from here. A team is on the way to pick us up in the morning. By noon this could finally be over.” His mouth closed over her breast, sucking greedily, feasting on it and wreaking havoc with her ability to think.

  Over? Soon?

  Sensations swept through her body. She tried to ignore them, the heat, the longing and focus on what he was telling her. But the truth was, she didn’t want to focus. Right now, at least for a little while, she just wanted to feel the touch of his hands and the warm caress of his lips.

  His tongue flicked at her nipples until they hardened, tightening with each sensation that sent desire zinging to her core and had her pushing her body against his. Friction. Pressure. Yes. Now.

  “Cameron’s planning a raid on Emerich’s boat,” he rasped.

  Raid? That much she heard, though she couldn’t have heard him right. “Seriously?” she breathed.

  “Absolutely.”

  His fingers expertly moved between her legs, and her bottom came up off the bed as she pushed against him, searching for release, for ease to the tormenting heat.

  “We’ll be able to put these last eight months behind us once and for all, and get back on track with our lives.”

  “Yes.” She gasped as his stroking between her folds stole her breath. Her heart raced, her pulse thumping in her most sensitive places.

  Genie wanted to believe him, but to get back on track like he promised, she’d have to trust him with her father’s truth, and to tell him about herself. About Becca and Cat. Could she do that? Were they her secrets to tell?

  He slipped her beneath him. She twined her arms around his neck, kissing him as he entered her welcoming body. Ready for him, her skin folded around him, holding him tight within her as he started to rock.

  Kyle’s mouth fell over hers, once more stealing away her thoughts. She clung to him, matching his thrusts with her own, holding onto him and wishing she never had to let him go. He pushed faster and faster. Sensations rolled through her, tightening her nerve endings and making her long for release as she pulled him closer.

  She loved him, she thought as the heat flooding her body spiked. Her nerve endings caught fire, sending her blazing out of control.

  She didn’t want to lose him again.

  After, as her heartbeat started to slow and her breathing returned to normal, her doubts ate at her. Should she go with her father and leave Kyle behind, destroying everything they’d rebuilt? Or should she confide her father’s plans to Kyle and hope he’d go along with her without involving Cameron? And if she chose that option, would Kyle be able to deal with everything he’d no doubt learn about them all?

  Or would revealing all those long-buried secrets drive him away for good?

  …

  Genie dozed off and on for the next few hours, sleeping later than she’d planned to before she finally woke in the wee hours, just before dawn. She waited, keeping still. She could tell by Kyle’s deep breathing that he was asleep. She hated to wake him up, but she’d made up her mind.

  She wasn’t leaving without him.

  She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. “Don’t follow too close.”

  “I won’t,” he whispered, making her smile. The man knew her all too well.

  She slipped from the bed and pulled fresh clothes from her pack, put them on, then eased out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Her father was sleeping on the sofa, his bulky outline lit by the light from the dying fire. His eyes opened as she crept close.

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  “Cameron’s men are on their way. They know Emerich is on a yacht not far from here.”

  He sat up. “Then we shouldn’t wait for dawn.”

  “Are you sure? We might have better luck if we show up in full force.”

  “No. It has to be done this way, before light.”

  “I figured that’s what you’d say.”

  He threw back the afghan. He was still dressed in his fishing clothes. He slipped into his boots that were sitting on the floor next to the sofa, and within minutes she was easing the front door closed behind them. By the flashlight app on her dad’s cell phone they hurried down the path that led to the dock and her father’s boat. It was still an hour or so before dawn, a good hour before the sun would rise and give away their presence at the yacht.

  By the time they neared the end of the path, the sky was just beginning to lighten far off on the horizon, making the woods around them come alive. Animals stirred in their dens, the smell of evergreens was thick in her nose. Lichen-painted rocks edged a nearby stream, making Genie long for the days when she and her father would sit on those rocks and fish the day away without a care in the world.

  What had happened to them? Why had they let everything fall apart?

  They walked through the last thicket of trees and down a steep incline to
the docks below where, in the dim light, she saw the faint outline of two boats gently bobbing. Her father’s and the big yellow one she and Kyle had come in on were moored side by side.

  She shook her head. “Dad, you must already have known we were there when you walked into the cabin.”

  “I knew someone was there.”

  “So you would have checked. And would have known it was us and not Emerich’s men before you even walked through the door. So why didn’t you say something?”

  “You were, um, busy.”

  Heat suffused her cheeks and she was thankful he was watching his steps on the steep uneven trail and not her expression. “Still you walked into the house without calling out, or giving us a warning.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t shoot me.”

  “You shouldn’t have been so sure about that,” she muttered, and followed him onto the dock. But just as she approached her dad’s boat to climb aboard, she caught a movement from the corner of her eye—a shadow in the twilight darkness. She paused. The flame from a cigarette lighter flicked on, revealing a man sitting in the captain’s chair of her father’s boat.

  Genie froze. She’d been so tuned in on her father and making sure he didn’t discover that Kyle was only a scant ways behind them, that she hadn’t even been aware of the danger around them.

  “You’re earlier than we expected.”

  The tall, blond and blue-eyed UPS driver from her house in the desert sat there, calm as could be. She should have known he wasn’t a UPS man.

  “I must say, Miss Marsters, you’ve been a hard one to catch, but it looks like you’ve finally walked into our net. Carlos!” he called.

  The man she and Kyle had tied up and left on Emerich’s boat stepped toward her and in the dim light she saw pure rage filling his face.

  Oops. Should have made sure the bastard couldn’t walk away so easily.

  Genie held her ground next to her father, searching the area around her, tallying up her options. But before either of them could make a move off the dock, two more men came out of the trees with flashlights and guns in their hands.

  “Hello, Stuart,” the UPS driver said, ignoring the newcomers. “Do you mind if we call you Stuart? We’ve been looking for you.”

  Her dad slipped his hand to the small of her back, and his fear washed over her. Fear. Which unsettled her even more than the man with the gun. She’d never known her father to be afraid of anything or anyone. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Carlos, you and I will take Miss Marsters and her father back to the yacht in the jet boat. The rest of you go get the boyfriend and meet us back here,” the man ordered.

  Hopefully Kyle wasn’t too far behind, and had seen what was happening.

  “We knew it would only be a matter of time until you showed up,” he said smugly to Genie. “This has worked out all the better, since it will ensure cooperation from both of you.” The man stood and tossed his cigarette into the water. “Isn’t that right, Stuart? You won’t cause me any trouble, will you? Not if you want to see your daughter delivered untouched.”

  “What does Emerich want with me?” Genie asked, throwing a touch of vulnerability into her voice, making herself sound young and innocent and not in the least bit threatening, while she tried to clear her mind, opening herself up to any impressions she could read from the brute. The way he wanted to hurt and dominate her came through loud and clear, and it bothered her more than she cared to admit.

  He climbed out of the boat. “Step back, old man,” he said to her father. And as her dad did, the man snaked an arm around her waist and slipped his hands down her legs slowly and thoroughly, until he reached her ankle. She shuddered in disgust as he took her gun out of its holster. He caressed her leg with the barrel while he continued his search. “I’ll be happy to show you what I’d like to do with you, doll face.”

  “I’m sure you would,” Genie said, and jerked away from him.

  “That’s enough!” her dad said.

  “You’re next, old man. Spread ‘em.”

  Her dad did as he asked and the man quickly patted him down, removing his gun.

  “Now, listen here both of you,” the man said, and pulled two plastic zip ties out of his jacket pocket. “You are going to cooperate and not give me any trouble. That’s a big ocean out there, a very cold ocean filled with all kinds of little and not-so-little fishies. You really don’t want to make the trip behind the boat rather than in it, now do you?”

  Neither one of them responded.

  “Now, hold out your hands.”

  Neither moved.

  The one called Carlos pointed his gun at Genie’s knee.

  “Give me your hands, Stuart,” the fake UPS man demanded again.

  Reluctantly he did, cursing under his breath, threatening him even as the man pulled the plastic tie tight and the plastic bit into his skin.

  Then the man turned to the Genie. “Your turn, doll face.” He smiled as he wrapped the plastic around her hands. “I’ve been thinking about doing this since the first time I saw you.”

  Revulsion turned her stomach. She knew pretty well what he was thinking and feeling. It was coming off him in sick, ugly waves, and as far as she was concerned, she’d rather take her chances with the fishies.

  The man shoved her father toward the boat, and then leaned toward her, his tobacco breath fanning her cheek. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way, because let me assure you, we are going to do this. And trust me, darling; if you want to do it the hard way, I can be most accommodating.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kyle stood in the trees hidden by a massive three-foot trunk. He watched Genie scoot toward the yellow jet boat, and two of Emerich’s goons take off down the path toward the cabin. His fist closed tight around his gun. There were only two of them left on the dock. Two, he could handle. But the big one had his paws all over Genie, and if Kyle were to make a move now, he would only put her in more danger.

  He crept through the trees toward the boats, taking in the situation and trying to plan his next move.

  In the semi darkness, he scanned the area. He wouldn’t be able to walk down the short dock without being seen, even if he had Genie parading in her underwear as a distraction.

  Shit. Not again.

  But there was no other way. While the men were busy searching Genie and her father, he slipped into the freezing cold water, made even colder by the early morning hour, hunching down as far down as he could and still walk, and waded quietly toward the back of the boats.

  As the men pushed Genie and her father into the yellow jet boat, Kyle hoisted himself up onto the back behind the engine, once more positioning himself on the narrow platform. The engine roared to life next to him, and Kyle crouched there, his teeth chattering uncontrollably, clutching a metal line to keep from falling in as they pulled away from the dock. His mind formulated one plan after another to overpower the men and take over the boat, but he still hadn’t figured out how he could climb around the engine and inside the boat without being seen.

  They headed out toward the open sea. Keeping his eyes on the men, Kyle peered up over the engine’s massive pipes to assess the situation. Genie wasn’t more than three feet away from him. Her father sat next to her on the small bench seat. He had to get her attention without calling notice to the thug, Carlos, who, sitting across from her, hadn’t taken his eyes off her. They sped across the smooth water of the Pacific, the sky growing lighter with each passing minute. Kyle couldn’t wait any longer; pretty soon he’d be impossible to miss. He got up onto his feet, crouching in position and as soon as everyone was looking forward, climbed around the engine and into the back of the boat.

  He didn’t make it more than a few inches when Carlos saw him. The thug jumped up and came at him full tilt. Kyle bent his head down, stepped down into the small space next to the engine and plowed forward, ramming his shoulder into the man’s soft middle. With a loud whoosh, Carlos fell backward, his arms pinwheelin
g as the backs of his legs caught on the bench seat and he fell over the rail and overboard. He howled as he hit the water. The boat slowed immediately as the alarmed driver took his foot off the pedal.

  Caught. The driver jumped up and swung his gun around to Kyle’s chest before he could get his own up and aimed. Crap. The man in the water yelled again and started swimming back toward the boat. He’d be climbing onboard in a matter of minutes.

  “Put the gun down,” the driver demanded. “And I’ll let you live.”

  Yeah, like Kyle believed that. “You put down your gun and I’ll let you live,” Kyle countered.

  The big blond man smiled. Not a good sign.

  Genie stood, and took a step toward them.

  “Perhaps I’ll shoot her instead.” The man swung his gun toward her.

  Kyle raised his. Genie ducked. Her father lunged. Kyle pulled the trigger. The bullet tore into the man’s shoulder. His gun flew out of his hand into the water.

  As the thug writhed on the deck in pain, Kyle pulled Genie’s gun out of the man’s waistband, then his knife out of the sheath attached to his hip and quickly sliced the plastic ties binding Genie’s and her father’s wrists. He gave Genie back her gun.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking and sliding it back into her ankle holster. The boat continued to idle, drifting. He looked for the man in the water and saw he was almost to the boat.

  “Genie, keep an eye on your buddy, Carlos.” Kyle reached into the driver’s jacket pocket, pulled out a few more zip ties, and bound his wrists and ankles.

  Once he was secured, Kyle pushed him into the seat next to where Marsters stood looking flummoxed. “Don’t take your eyes off him.”

  “How’d you get here?” Marsters asked, his expression full of wonder, not looking at the man at all.

  “I’m good at what I do.”

  “What happens now?” he asked, hesitation clear in his voice.

  “I’m taking you to Josh Cameron.”

  “You can’t,” Marsters said, grabbing the wheel like he wanted to take control of it.

  Kyle was tempted to put the tie wraps back on his wrists. “Can’t I?”