Re/Viewed

by Michele Zurlo

  He’d rarely exercised his Dominance like this, and Tru responded to it immediately. Her resistance softened and faded. “Yes, Sir. I’ll wait for a signal from you.”

  “Good girl.” Liam pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Start recording now and don’t stop until I tell you to.”

  She dowsed her headlamp, army-crawled to the edge, and then she looked down. She easily found the six people Jed had mentioned, and she pressed the button to record. From this position, some sounds reached her ears—an occasional word or phrase out of context. It took some time—twenty minutes according to the video counter—but Jed and Liam eventually came into the room. Their words traveled the distance clearly.

  “FBI! Hands in the air.”

  Words were exchanged, and instead of the bad guys surrendering, the two bodyguards launched themselves at her Sirs. Tru swallowed a cry of distress. The last thing she needed was for them to worry about her when they were fighting for their lives.

  It was hard to watch and even harder to film. She wanted to drop the camera and run to help Liam and Jed, but she couldn’t disobey their order to stay put and film.

  Seconds later, a half dozen more FBI agents clad in SWAT gear bounded into the cavern from the other direction. Tru predicted that Agents Monaghan, Forsythe, and Lockmeyer were among them. In a perfect world, the villains would surrender, but this situation was far from ideal. Soon the agents were locked in hand-to-hand combat with the five men, and Tru noticed Zarah Braithwaite edging back toward the way she’d come. Tru didn’t think she’d follow the path that led back to Zangari’s Fetish Inn, but that wasn’t the only place she could get to by following that path. It branched off to come out on the cliff. If Zarah was good at climbing, she’d be able to disappear into the night.

  “Sorry, Sirs, but I’m not going to let her get away.” Knowing it would record on the video, she whispered the apology, and then she pressed the pause button.

  Though she moved quickly, it seemed to take disproportionally longer to slither down the tunnel and through the tight places than it had taken to get to the ledge. Careful with her footing, she hurried to where she thought Zarah might be headed, but when she got to the point where the tunnel to the cliff branched off, there was no sign of the woman.

  Tru stopped and listened. The sounds of the fight filtered down the passageway to where she stood. Just as she took a step toward the branch where she thought Zarah might have gone, a vision flashed through her mind. Trusting the brief glimpse into the future, she turned in the direction of the fight. Fifty paces proved her hunch correct.

  Off to the right, another path led to a large, flat outcropping that dead-ended against solid rock that reflected erosion from swirls and waves of a much higher water table. Okay, calling it a path was generous. There was no floor worn smooth by time and many bootlegging feet. It had been years since she’d climbed like this, but if Zarah could do it, then Tru sure as hell could. Parts were sheer, and she felt for handholds and footholds she knew were there. Eventually she pulled herself over the edge of the precipice and onto the flat shelf.

  Zarah was there, digging into a metal box, her back turned to Tru. The noise of the scuffle—the thud of flesh meeting flesh and the grunts and shouts of the combatants—was loud here, and that obscured the small sounds Tru made.

  As in the alcoves of the last room, this place housed crates of what Tru assumed were guns and drugs. However, Zarah wasn’t digging into any of those. On her knees, she dumped the contents of a hard briefcase into another. Sparkles and shimmers reflected in the beams of light from Zarah and Tru’s headlamps. Thinking quickly, Tru unpaused Liam’s cell phone recorder and panned the scene.

  Tru stared at enough bling to stock a jewelry store, and then she noticed the next thing Zarah was doing. She pressed clay into the empty case. That action triggered an alarm deep within Tru’s intuition.

  “Stop!” Tru didn’t have a weapon or real training in a martial art—taking six classes when she was twenty-six didn’t count—but she infused her voice with authority and hoped it would work. “Freeze. Put your hands in the air.”

  Zarah froze, but she didn’t put her hands in the air. Instead she slowly turned around. “You. I knew it was too much of a coincidence that you’d be in three of the hotels where I happened to be. You’ve been following us for months, haven’t you?”

  Apparently Zarah Braithwaite had not only bought Tru’s subterfuge, but she had embellished it in her imagination. She thought that Tru was part of the FBI. Tru pressed her lips together and shot for the moon. “You stole the gems from your bosses, and they killed your husband in retaliation. Isn’t that what happened?”

  Laughing, Zarah shook her head. “So eager. Trying to move up in an organization is a bitch, and you’re not hungry enough to win this. I’m going to kill you anyway, but first I’m going to set the record straight. I killed Angelo. He was a lovely man, but he had no ambition. He thought being a courier and bringing in some extra money a few times a year would be a good side project to pay for extra vacations. He was sweet, but short-sighted. I wanted more. When the opportunity presented itself, I traded up. And now I’m going to do it again. Those men are peons. Yes, they’re higher up the chain than I am right now, but that’s going to change. I’m about to catapult myself into the upper echelon of The Eye. It’s a pity you won’t be around to see it.” She nodded at the cell phone in Tru’s hand. “And you’re not going to stop me with that thing.”

  Tru didn’t know anything about this “Eye” thing, but it put the graffiti she’d discovered next to Angelo’s body into perspective. She’d known this whole deal was about more than a murder, but she hadn’t known that an organized crime syndicate was involved.

  “Drop those suitcases.”

  Zarah’s smile turned brilliant. “Oh, sweetie, I will.” She threw the one she’d been packing with clay over the other edge of the outcropping and ran toward Tru, knocking her out of the way. Tru scrambled to throw her weight forward so that Zarah’s momentum didn’t push her over the edge. That would be a nasty fall, and the landing would be deadly. Zarah didn’t seem to notice the drop. She jumped. Tru heard her skitter and slide, but she was too busy trying not to go over backward to see if Zarah had survived the fall intact. As the ground rushed up to meet her and Tru rolled to lessen the impact, an explosion sounded below. It came from where Zarah had thrown the suitcase. Too late, Tru realized the clay had been C4, which was highly combustible according to every TV detective show she’d seen. This was going to make one hell of a blog post.

  It didn’t set off a spectacular blast, but it did knock loose a rockslide. Tru prayed that Jed launched himself to the right and that Liam stayed put. Safely on the ground, she scrambled down the way she’d come. Well, she scrambled as quickly as she could considering that she wasn’t prepared to rappel. Finding places to shove her fingers and feet on the climb down proved challenging with just one headlamp, and Tru found herself frustrated and afraid. What if Liam hadn’t stayed put? Her vision hadn’t run simulations of various scenarios. It had simply shown her a four-second movie.

  Once she was down, she ran toward the cavern. This was her vision come true, and whether they had listened or not, her Sirs needed her right now.

  The uneven path to the main cavern widened suddenly, and she found a gun pointed at her face. Already powered by adrenaline, a fear response didn’t kick in, but thankfully her common sense hadn’t deserted her. She skidded to a halt and put her hands in the air.

  A dust-covered Agent Lockmeyer peered behind Tru before lowering her weapon. “Braithwaite ran off.”

  “She put explosives in a suitcase and tossed it over the side.” Tru pointed to the overhang where she had found Zarah stealing precious gems. “I tried to stop her, but she took another case full of diamonds and maybe rubies.”

  Agent Lockmeyer motioned Tru to follow her. “We have teams waiting at all three entrances, so she won’t get far.”

  Tru hurried after the woman in cha
rge. “There are more than three ways into these caves. They extend for at least a mile down the coast.” She doubted Braithwaite knew her way through the system, but it was extensive and riddled with hiding places, so finding her would be challenging.

  The main room looked very different. The clearing, chipped away and leveled by generations of smugglers and bootleggers, was covered in rubble. A large section of rock had sheared off and dropped to the floor of the cave. Tru pointed her headlamp in a sweep of the area. Agents Monaghan and Forsythe, along with three agents she didn’t recognize, stood over four handcuffed men. They all wore evidence of the chaos Zarah Braithwaite had caused. “Where are Jed and Liam?”

  Jed came out from the other side of the wall created by the sheared rock. Blood from a cut on his hairline ran down the side of his face, and he was dirtier and dustier than the others. “I’m here, Princess. I dove right.”

  Temporarily relieved, she fell into his arms. He hugged her tightly, and then he released her quickly. “Where’s Liam?”

  “Here. I didn’t stay put, but my helmet did.”

  Tru followed the sound of his voice to find Liam on the other side of the new wall. He leaned against it with his eyes closed, and his right arm hung limply by his side. The layer of dust and grime didn’t help, but he seemed to have a grayish pallor. “You’re hurt.”

  “Broken collarbone. It’s nothing.” He attempted a smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “Probably a concussion. My helmet came off when I was grappling with Schatz, and then the explosion happened. I’ve had worse headaches.”

  In her vision he had been hurt on his right side, though she’d assumed his arm was broken. She took a step closer and tripped. Jed caught her, and she looked down to see a pair of feet sticking out from a pile of loose stone. They were clad in an expensive brand of boots marketed to outdoor types.

  “I chased him here just before the explosion. If I had stayed put, I’d be in that pile with him.”

  Blood drained from Tru’s extremities. The first time she’d ever used her vision to warn someone away from danger, and it had only worked out for one of the two men she loved. The air suddenly became devoid of oxygen and her legs lost feeling.

  Jed caught her, and as he set her on the ground, he pushed her head down to her knees. “Slow down, Princess. You’re hyperventilating.”

  “I almost killed Liam. I’ve always kept the visions to myself, and now I know why.” She gulped air as hot tears scalded her cheeks.

  “You said they’re not in context.” Liam slowly lowered himself to the ground next to her. “I’m staying put now.”

  She looked at him with tear-distorted vision, and she realized that this moment had been her vision. She removed her waist belt and used the strap and his elbow pad to fashion a sling to keep his arm and shoulder immobile. Poppy had said that six-week course on first-aid training was a useless waste of time, though she’d still gone to each class with Tru because the instructor had been attractive. Right now it was coming in handy.

  Jed left her to care for Liam. She heard his voice giving commands to a crew of agents who were being sent to retrieve the cache of weapons and drugs they’d found.

  Liam used his good hand to wipe away the wetness on her cheek. “Why are you still crying?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because I love you, and I’m relieved that you’re mostly okay.” She finished tying the sling and looked over her work.

  “I love you too.” Liam’s grimace disappeared for a brief moment as he made his declaration. “We told you to stay up there.”

  “I saw Zarah leave, and I couldn’t let her get away.” She related her brush with the murderer to Liam. Jed had returned, and he listened to her tale. They laughed when she said that Zarah thought Tru had been tracking her for months.

  “It looks like we’re going to have to search this whole cave system.” Jed frowned thoughtfully as more agents entered the room. “This is a much bigger break in the case than we’d anticipated. If we follow Zarah Braithwaite long enough, she’ll lead us to the people, places, and supplies for The Eye. We have a name and a face.”

  “It’s more than we had before.” Liam closed his eyes. “Since Tru’s cover is blown, it looks like she’s going to have to return to her safe, boring career as a travel blogger.”

  Tru laughed. Her life had been anything but boring.

  “I’m serious.” Liam cracked open one eye. “I want to know the truth, Princess. I have theories, but no answers.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about now, but she knew that people with concussions sometimes didn’t make sense. “What do you want answers about?”

  Jed rejoined them. He sat on her other side as Liam answered her question. “You. Were you an adrenaline junkie before chemo messed with your brain? I read about the way it changes your brain chemistry, especially when you’re younger.”

  Had she always been addicted to thrills? Maybe. “I’ve always been the person who had to climb to the top of the tree, and I loved walking the ridgeline of the roof at Gram’s place. I’m adventurous, a daredevil.”

  Jed rubbed a hand up and down her back. “Or you think you don’t deserve to be alive. After talking with Alex, we figured out that you have put a lot of time and effort into avoiding serious relationships.”

  Yeah, she had, but only because she thought she’d eventually die. What was the point of putting more people through the pain of losing her than necessary? She faced Jed. “Not anymore. I love you both, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.” She took Liam’s good hand. He opened his eyes, and she continued. “Anything. I know we all travel, and we live 300 miles apart, but we can make it work. I have a ton of airline miles.”

  Liam’s eyes closed again, but this time he was smiling. Paramedics entered from the corridor that led to the beach. Agent Forsythe directed them to where Jed and Tru sat with Liam.

  Tru moved back to give the medical professionals room. “I’ll come home with you to help you recover from your concussion.”

  Jed pointed to his head. “I got hit on the head too.”

  Tru twined her fingers with his. “I hope it’s not a concussion. I’d like at least one of you to not have a headache.”

  “Sex cures headaches,” Liam mumbled as the paramedics lifted him onto a gurney. “I might have a headache every day for the rest of my life.”

  She pressed a kiss to his dirt-streaked forehead. “Me too.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The air had turned decidedly crisp, and the gentle breeze washed across the stream and through the trees, rattling the colorful leaves and shaking a few loose. An orange maple leaf landed on the top of the wooden picnic table next to Liam’s slice of hot apple pie. He picked it up by the stem and twirled it between his thumb and forefinger. Next to him, Tru’s thigh pressed against his as she shifted. She wrapped her arm around his and leaned on his good shoulder.

  “It’s the perfect day to visit a cider mill.” Tru shoved the rest of her sugared donut in her mouth and washed it down with apple cider.

  “Yes, it is. Perfect day, perfect companion.” He kissed her lips and came away with sugar crystals on his mouth.

  This ritual is one Liam had been doing for as long as Joyce Adair had been part of his life. Even when he’d become too old for hanging out at the cider mill with his mom to be cool, he’d kept going. Today was the first time he’d brought anyone else. His mom was on a weekend trip with her new boyfriend, and the foursome had plans to come back to the mill in a few days.

  “Want me to feed you?” Tru sat on his left side because his right collarbone was still healing. These past few weeks had been idyllic. Not only was he on temporary desk duty—meaning he got to spend all day with his computers—until his injuries healed, but Tru had kept her promise to stay with him until he was fully recovered. The more time he spent with her, the more he was convinced that she needed to be around all the time.

  “Am I not eating
fast enough for you? Do you have a hot date tonight?”

  She giggled and slung her legs across his. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  Jed was due home in a few hours, and the two of them had planned to surprise her with a scene. Though Jed had scened with her since she’d been here, Liam hadn’t been able to do much without jarring his broken collarbone. The sex had been decidedly vanilla, which wasn’t bad, but it was no longer his favorite method.

  Tru picked up his fork and loaded it with sweet, apple-y goodness. “I’ve never fed anyone before. This’ll either be intimate or awkward.”

  He strove for intimate. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  Her smile warmed his heart, and the way her eyes softened made him want to scoop her up and find a private place to show her how he felt. “Yes, Sir, but I never get tired of hearing it, so feel free to say it again.”

  Staring into his eyes, she fed him the rest of his pie, and it was definitely intimate. By the time he finished the pie, Tru wore the same expression she got when he licked her pussy and refused to let her climax. He grinned. “Let’s go home.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” She leaped to her feet. “I want to get more donuts and a pie to take home.”

  For a change, the line inside the mill wasn’t too long. “Go on. I’ll clean up here.” There wasn’t much trash, and he took his time, watching her walk until she was out of sight. Then he gathered his paper plate, their paper cups, and their napkins.

  “Nick? Is that you?”

  Liam looked up to find a woman approaching. She looked as if she was in her late forties. Her hair was short and blonde, and makeup caked her face. However nothing could disguise the memory of her with long, dark hair and even darker circles under her vacant eyes. “Nope.” He tried to turn away, but she reached across the table and grabbed his arm. Pain seared through his shoulder. He wore a sling that kept his arm close to his body, but casting a broken collarbone wasn’t possible.

  “It is you. God, you’re the spitting image of your father. With that thick hair and blue eyes, you always were a handsome devil.”