When I Find You: A Trust No One Novel

by Brown, Dixie Lee

  “Would you please let me look at your shoulder now?”

  She sat immediately on the ottoman with her back to him, unbuttoned her white cotton shirt, and withdrew her left arm. Walker gave a low whistle when he saw the mass of red, yellow, and purple bruises that covered her shoulder and inched across her back, the mottled skin stretched with swelling.

  “Shit, Darcy. Why didn’t you tell me? Oh yeah, I forgot—not my problem.” He gently pulled her arm out to the side, then slowly raised and lowered it, while palpating the muscles of her shoulder and back with his other hand. Her shallow breathing and tense posture indicated how sore it was, but he found no obvious breaks or tears and the swelling was minimal, so chances were it was just a damn good bruise.

  “You’re right. Ice will probably help, three or four times a day. Once the swelling goes down, I’ll show you some exercises that will bring the strength back quickly. With a little rest, your arm will be as good as new in no time.”

  He walked to the kitchen, returned with a bag of ice wrapped in a towel, and helped her drape it across her shoulder and back. “Ten or fifteen minutes at a time should do it.”

  While she held it in place, he moved to the entertainment center, picked some CDs from the rows and rows of music, and fed them into the player. “I have strange tastes in music, so you can pick the next ones.” He walked back toward her. A country ballad, “Little Red Rodeo,” burst from the speakers. Darcy started to laugh.

  “Are you making fun of my music? It’s not that bad, is it?” He stopped in front of her, and his gaze roamed over her porcelain skin and lacey bra that peeked from between the edges of her shirt where she’d only drawn it together while she held the ice on her shoulder. The tightening started in his stomach and went south from there. With no small amount of willpower, he dragged his eyes to her face and concentrated on what she was saying.

  “I love Collin Raye.”

  “Looks like we’ve got something in common after all.” The pure enjoyment in her smile caused his heart to flip-flop, and he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her eyes. That tightening in his gut returned, warning him of danger. Only problem was, this particular danger was about the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Aw, hell. He was in so much trouble.

  WALKER SAT ON the back of the ottoman, close enough that the heat of his body radiated through her shirt. He took over holding the ice pack in place while kneading the tense muscles of her other shoulder with strong fingers. Darcy enjoyed his hands on her, massaging and flexing until she was totally relaxed. Well, that wasn’t completely true because his presence always seemed to have her in a state of emotional tension.

  The ringing of her cell phone made her jump and she fumbled in her back pocket as Walker plucked the ice from her shoulder and went to turn the music down.

  “Hello?”

  “Darcy? Where are you?” It was Nick’s voice, sounding so grown-up and worried. For the last several hours she hadn’t thought of the boys and suddenly guilt rolled over her.

  She’d tried to call them earlier but had gotten voice mail and was only able to leave a message with her new number. “Oh Nick, are you all right? I’m so sorry about your father.” There was silence on the other end for a moment. Nick was only twelve. He was probably angry, confused, and scared. Wasn’t she? Of course he wouldn’t be ready to talk about it. Maybe, if they hadn’t found a body yet, he was still holding out hope his father was alive.

  “Yeah. Eddy wants to talk to you.” He handed the phone off before she could protest.

  “Darcy, when are you coming to get us?” Eddy’s slightly immature voice rang in her ear.

  “I wish I could come right away, but I’ve got something I have to take care of first.”

  “Mom says you have to come or we can’t be a family anymore.”

  Nick whispered something furiously in the background, but she couldn’t make out the words. Something was wrong.

  “We’ll always be family, Eddy. Don’t worry. As soon as I can get away, I’ll come and find you. Okay?”

  “I have to hang up now.” The connection went dead.

  Darcy stared at her phone. What had just happened?

  “Everything all right?” Walker startled her with his closeness.

  “I guess. They just sounded so . . . strange.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t think Nick believes Johnny is dead. He was so defensive. Eddy is young, and I’m sure he doesn’t understand. They just didn’t sound like themselves.”

  “Whether or not Johnny is dead, their lives have been ripped apart. Those boys have had to grow up a lot in the last couple days. Something like that changes a person, especially kids.”

  “You’re right.” She still wasn’t totally convinced. Nick had seemed almost angry with her.

  “I’m always right.” He winked, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Now, put that away so we can get back to work. You can call them again tomorrow. They’ll be okay.”

  “Thanks, Walker.”

  He went to work on her shoulder again, massaging down her arm to her wrist and moved around to sit in front of her.

  “Grab on to my wrist and don’t let go.” He held his arm out between them. When she complied, he brought his other hand up and circled her wrist as she’d seen him do to Cooper yesterday. With just a little bit of pressure, her hand went numb and she didn’t feel him pull from her grasp.

  “Pressure points, here . . . and here. With a moderate amount of strength, it’ll work every time.” He grabbed her wrist and held it firmly. “Try it.”

  Darcy shook her head doubtfully but placed her fingers as he’d instructed and squeezed as hard as she could. His grip loosened right away, and she pulled her hand free.

  “That was with your injured arm. Once you get all the strength back, it’ll be easier.”

  “How come you know all this stuff?”

  “I learned most of it the hard way. For example, after you get your hand away, you probably don’t want to hang out and chitchat with your assailant because he’s not going to be in a very good mood. Tomorrow I’ll show you some other moves, but kicking him in the groin seems to work pretty well most of the time. Don’t mess around—do it fast and hard. And no, you can’t practice that one on me.” The humor was back in his voice.

  THE SUN DIPPED toward the horizon as Walker threw back the cover from the gas barbeque grill and fired it up. He disappeared into the house and returned with a glass of wine in each hand. He passed one to her and then leaned on the railing beside her.

  “You don’t see that in Chicago.” He nodded his head toward the pink and purple sunset reflected in the water that stretched to the horizon.

  “I do miss that. Although I don’t remember it ever being so beautiful in Tillamook.” She didn’t remember anything good about her hometown.

  “Ever think about moving back?”

  “I don’t suppose there’s any reason to stay in Chicago now.”

  “I would say there’s every reason not to.”

  “Where will I be safe?” She eyed the gun in the shoulder holster he’d worn all day.

  “It won’t always be like this.” He raised an eyebrow as he glanced sideways at her. “Let’s see some of that positive outlook I’ve come to expect.”

  “I really am a pain, aren’t I?” She laughed softly.

  “I don’t think so . . . but ask me in a couple days.”

  “You’re probably no ray of sunshine to live with either.”

  “I can almost guarantee that.”

  “Have you ever been married?”

  “God, no!”

  He answered so quickly and adamantly she had to look away so he wouldn’t see the hurt surprise on her face.

  “No woman in her right mind would keep me around that long.”

  “I find that hard to believe. I think you’re . . . charming.”

  She could feel his gaze on her and her face heated as she glanced at him from beneath her lash
es. His lips turned up in a half smile. She thought he was going to say something, but then he scowled.

  “I’ll put those steaks on the grill. Maybe you could throw a salad together? I’ll pour some more wine in a minute.”

  “Not for me. I’ve had enough. I’ve already lost control of my tongue.” It was clear something she’d said angered him and whatever it was had spoiled the mood of their evening. She left him standing there and retreated to the kitchen to make the salad.

  Walker came through once to get the steaks and returned a few minutes later, purposefully took her glass from the counter beside her, and filled it to the rim. She glanced at him questioningly as he set it down in front of her.

  “You can say anything you want to me. Sometimes your honesty surprises me, and I’m not sure what to do with it. Do you know how rare it is to find someone who will actually say what’s on her mind? Most people worry about how they’ll be perceived, and they keep their real feelings hidden. You’re a breath of fresh air, Darcy Maddox. I know you’ve got this idea in your head you’re not good enough and you want to change into someone else, but . . . please don’t. Don’t change anything. You’re perfect just the way you are.” He tipped his head toward the wineglass in front of her. “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t let you lose control.”

  The warmth in his eyes made her face heat up and she laughed nervously. One of his eyebrows shot up, giving him a decidedly evil expression.

  “You think I’m charming, huh?”

  “In a Hannibal Lecter sort of way.” She grinned and walked toward the refrigerator to see what else she could throw in the salad.

  He snorted a laugh and caught her arm when she tried to go around him. Backed into the counter, he held her there with one hand on each side of her and his body pressing against hers. He kissed her ear, his warm breath sending a shiver through her.

  “I could eat you up easy enough.” His lips hovered above hers, then dipped down to feather a kiss across her mouth before he pushed himself back. “Gotta check on the steaks.” He threw her a wink as he turned to go.

  Darcy smiled slightly as he left. Her heart pounded, and if the heat in her body was any indication, she was flushed from head to toe. How did he do that to her with just a few words and a kiss? He acted as though he liked being with her. Best not to read too much into that, because in the next breath he might change his mind and push her away again. She liked him . . . way too much, because tomorrow, or the next day, or next week he’d go back to whatever life he left to come find her.

  The salad was finished and she carried it to the table, set two places, and cleaned up the mess she’d made on the counter. As she put their wineglasses down by the place settings, the ringing of her phone startled her. The boys’ number came up on the display and she answered eagerly.

  “Are you alone, Darcy?”

  Recognition hit her so hard she had to remind herself to breathe, but it had to be a mistake. There was no other explanation.

  “Who is this . . . Johnny? No . . . that’s not possible. They’re saying you’re dead. I heard the gunshots. Reggie Allen tried to kill me because I saw him.” She wasn’t making any sense, confusion giving voice to the thoughts that swirled in her head.

  “It was a con. The Justice Department wanted Frank DeLuca to believe I was dead or, at the very least, missing. Reggie wasn’t trying to hurt you. He was supposed to get you out of the house and someplace safe so DeLuca couldn’t try to get information from you. When you disappeared, we had to come up with another plan.”

  “But . . . Reggie had someone try to kill me.” Darcy squeezed her eyes closed and tried to remember every detail from the time she heard the shots fired downstairs. She hadn’t imagined Reggie climbing those stairs or the words he spoke . . . the girl . . . take her out.

  “It wasn’t Reggie. You can trust him. It had to be someone DeLuca sent. Listen, Darcy. I know you’re confused and frightened. It’s been a long couple days. I’ll explain everything as soon as you get here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have to get away from that hired gun DeLuca sent to keep an eye on you. He’ll use you to find me. If he finds me, Nick and Eddy could get hurt. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

  What was he saying? He couldn’t mean Walker. Every fiber of her being cried out in denial. Walker wouldn’t lie to her, or use her to find Johnny, and he certainly wouldn’t hurt two defenseless children. Nothing would convince her he was capable of any of that.

  “Of course not, but you’re wrong about him.”

  Johnny’s voice sounded tired. God only knew what he’d been through. He was being cautious. That was all. She couldn’t blame him for trying to protect his family above all else. Darcy loved them too. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt them. As much as she hated it, concern for Johnny, Gwen, and the boys crept in and gave rise to doubts about Walker.

  “You trust me, don’t you? I’d never hurt you. He may be turning on the charm to get you to believe him, but he’s just using you.”

  “No . . . no . . . that can’t be right. I don’t understand.” She rubbed her forehead to ease the headache forming behind her eyes. What if it was true? Had she put her life, and her trust, in the hands of a monster capable of trading one life for another? Was Walker working for the man who tried to kill Johnny? Anxiety squeezed her throat and she struggled to breathe. If it was true, he wouldn’t let her stand in his way.

  “I’ll explain everything later. Listen carefully, Darcy. There’s a bus that leaves Gold Beach every day at eight a.m. headed south. As soon as you can get away from him, get on that bus and call me at this number. I’ll find you. Okay?”

  “I . . . I don’t know . . . I need to think.”

  “Please, Darcy. It’s important. I can’t protect you unless you follow my instructions. Promise me.”

  “I’ll try.” Fragmented thoughts made it hard to concentrate. This impossible phone call frightened her, and the idea that Johnny might be telling the truth about Walker shook her entire world.

  “Good. I’ll see you soon.”

  The caller was gone, but Darcy couldn’t put the phone down. She continued to stare at it until Walker entered the room and flashed that same mischievous grin he’d left with. It went away immediately and a frown knit his brow as his gaze met hers. He walked toward her and held out his hand for the phone, concern etched on his face.

  Now, with him standing right in front of her, his calm assurance handed her a lifeline and the doubts started to recede. She wanted to trust him, but Johnny sounded so sure. Was it possible Walker was trying to worm his way inside her defenses, laughing, smiling, kissing her in a way that made her melt, just so he could use her? Would he kill her once she wasn’t of any use to him anymore? A pain knifed through her heart and her breath caught in a strangled sob. Was there anybody she could trust?

  She retreated until her backside hit the kitchen table. Walker kept pace with her, grabbed her wrist, and took the phone, checking the last number logged. “The boys called?”

  She shook her head without realizing she had.

  “Darcy, who called?”

  Should she tell him? If he really was using her, he could probably guess who had called. She worried her lower lip between her teeth as his stormy visage darkened even more. What if he lost it once his charade was revealed? Would this man, who’d just stirred up feelings within her she’d never had before, really hurt her if she didn’t give him what he wanted?

  He grabbed both of her elbows and shook her, snapping her gaze up to his. “Who called, Darcy?”

  Understanding gray eyes pulled her back from the edge of terror. It simply wasn’t possible Walker would hurt her. True—she didn’t know him well. They’d only just met, but he’d saved her life more than once. Yes . . . an ulterior motive could be manufactured for each incident, but she wasn’t going to go there. She trusted Walker. She would give him the benefit of the doubt. The only question he’d asked about her present situation
was if she knew who fired the shots in Johnny’s house that night. He hadn’t even pressed for a name . . . until now.

  The name stuck in her throat. She couldn’t stand the intensity of his dark eyes anymore, so she concentrated on his green flannel shirt and choked out one word. “Johnny.”

  Chapter Nine

  * * *

  CONFUSION LEFT WALKER speechless. He stepped toward her, intending to put his arms around her and ease the fear in her eyes, but she brought her hands up and pushed against him. He got the point and backed off.

  “Okay. Take it easy. It’ll be all right.”

  “Easy for you to say. You told me he was dead. Well, I just talked to a dead man!” Visibly agitated, she watched him warily. He took his cue from her and backed off farther, which seemed to settle her a little. His first instinct had been right—she was afraid of him. What did the dead man say to her?

  “I told you the U.S. marshals assumed he was dead. Are you sure it was Johnny?”

  “Of course I’m sure.”

  “What did he want?”

  Instantly, her expression became guarded.

  “He said something to make you stop trusting me, didn’t he? I thought we were past that.” He held his hand out, hoping she’d take it.

  She stared at it for a few seconds without moving. “I don’t know what to believe.” Her gaze met his eyes, imploring him to understand.

  “We’ll sort it out. Together.” He started to reach for her, then let his hand drop. He did understand. She didn’t trust him and touching her when she clearly didn’t want him to would only make it worse.

  He grabbed his cell phone, hit Joe’s number on the speed dial, and started talking as soon as Joe answered. “We’ve got a problem. Any chance Johnny’s death and/or disappearance was staged?” Quickly, he related what he knew, careful not to speculate about what Johnny might have asked her to do.

  A few feet away, Darcy’s gaze darted from him to the kitchen door and back again, her arms crossed in front of her. She chewed her lower lip in that nervous habit he’d thought was so damn cute . . . until now. Her high state of anxiety was telling—it meant she wasn’t sharing everything she knew. Johnny had said something that put that look of distrust on her face. As agitated as she was, Walker couldn’t predict how she’d react. Would she calm down and talk it out, or would she run?