Hidden Truth

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Hidden Truth Page 5

by Danica Winters


  “You went through my things. Why?” he said, staring at her.

  She paused, thinking about every syllable before she spoke. “Your family hired me to do a job. I am here to help you get this house in order.” She walked to the drawer and pulled out a spoon for him and set it down on the table beside his bowl like it was some kind of olive branch. “I have no interest in disrupting your life or invading your privacy,” she lied, forcing her face to remain unpassable.

  “Then why?”

  “I told you why. I want to help.” She sat down at the table, hoping he would recognize her contrition. “Look, I understand you’re nervous. But about the man we found yesterday...”

  Some of the anger disappeared from his face. “Did you tell anyone about the body?”

  She shook her head. “Like I said, I am here to make your life easier, not cause more problems. If you don’t want me to go in your room anymore, I won’t.” There wasn’t anything in there she was looking for anyway.

  He sighed. “No, don’t worry about it. I guess I’m just a little jumpy. I’m not used to civilian life.”

  “That’s okay. We’re just going to need to start learning to communicate a little better with each other—especially when it comes to our boundaries.” She motioned for him to sit.

  He picked up the spoon as he sat down, finally a bit more relaxed in her presence.

  Maybe she wasn’t so bad as a UC after all—given time, she would get exactly what she needed.

  Chapter Five

  Trevor didn’t quite know what to make of her. On one hand, Sabrina seemed to be everything a cleaning woman would be—focused, driven and into all of his things. On the other hand, the mere thought of someone poking around his house made him clench. He hadn’t had a woman taking care of his life for him since...well, he was a child.

  Done with breakfast, he walked back to his room. He hadn’t had a closet, at least one that wasn’t in a hotel or rented room, in forever. It was strange to think he actually owned something. In a way, it felt like a leash tying him to this place.

  He had spent entirely too much time being out in the world and on his own to adjust to this kind of lifestyle overnight, but he had to admit that it would be nice to just hand things over to someone else for a while. For once, he could just focus on living.

  A pit formed in his stomach. He’d been working in the shadows for so long he wasn’t quite sure what living actually meant. The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t want to be alone.

  He thought of the way Sabrina had looked over breakfast, her long hair falling down in her face like gentle fingers that longed to caress her cheeks. He’d wanted to reach over and brush the tendrils out of her face, but as much as he had desired it, to touch her seemed wrong...especially after what had happened at the Cusslers’.

  No matter how beautiful she was, she was clearly not interested in him. And yet if there was one reason he was glad to be leashed to this place, it was because of her.

  But could he trust her?

  He closed his bedroom door and walked to the head of the bed. Lifting out the gun case, he looked at the latch. The hair he’d left tucked in the lock was gone. She’d seen his gun.

  No wonder she had been so strange with him, nervous even. He could only guess what she thought of him. Hopefully she thought he was just some redneck with a penchant for high-end weaponry. Or better yet, she hadn’t a clue what she was looking at.

  He pulled a hair from his head and put it back in the latch, setting the booby trap again. If she came back...well, they were going to have to have a longer talk. He’d show her exactly how well he could communicate.

  Slipping the gun case back, he sat down on his bed and pulled out his phone. Zoey had sworn that she’d looked into the woman’s background, and he trusted his sister’s judgment and aptitude when it came to technology...and yet, every cell in his body was telling him that Sabrina wasn’t all she seemed to be. Zoey had to be missing something. He didn’t know much about housekeepers, but it couldn’t have been normal for them to open a gun case...that was, unless they were going to strip it down and clean the gun, or if they were looking for something.

  Whatever she was looking for, she wasn’t going to find it in his gun case. The only thing she’d find there was a recipe for disaster.

  He unlocked his phone and went to his secondary email. Ever so carefully, he wrote:

  Dear Ahmal,

  My team will be in place Wednesday night for the handoff. Johnson and Beckwith. City Centre. Seven o’clock.

  T

  If Sabrina was a spy, she’d have it read within the hour. If she was a decent spy, she’d have men in downtown Seattle Wednesday at seven.

  He emailed Zoey using his private server, letting her know to keep eyes on the fake drop.

  The pit that had formed in his stomach started to dissipate. For now, he’d done all he could to put his mind at ease...at least when it came to Sabrina.

  He still needed to get to the bottom of the Cussler murder.

  Crap. What if she is tied to the murder?

  No. He shook his head at the very thought. She was suspicious, but she didn’t seem like the type who would kill people. He’d seen those types more than he could count, and she didn’t carry the same darkness in her eyes.

  If anything, her blue eyes were like the sky...open, bright, and full of promise. And the way she sometimes looked at him, when she was unguarded it was like she wanted...well, she wanted him.

  Yep, he was definitely losing his edge.

  He needed to get to work.

  As he made his way from his room and the traps he secretly hoped she wouldn’t step into, Sabrina was whisking her way around the living room, dusting.

  “I need to head up to check out the Cusslers. You wanna go with me?” he asked, trying not to notice the way her jeans hugged her curves as she bent over to dust the bottom of the built-in bookcase next to the television.

  “Sure.” She turned and smiled. “I don’t know if you know this, but there is only so much of a mess that a man and his brother can make in a house. I swear, I’ve dusted this room at least three times in the last day. I could use a break.”

  He chuckled. “I can’t say that I’ve dusted three times in my entire life. What’s the point? It’s just going to get dusty again.”

  She laughed, the sound high and full of life, and it made his longing for her intensify. It would have been so easy to take her back into his arms. She was...incredible.

  Maybe being around her today was a mistake, not only professionally but personally as well.

  “I...” he started, but the sound came out hoarse and he was forced to clear his throat. “Sorry. I was just going to say, I was thinking about running over to see our cousin at her family’s ranch, Dunrovin. Maybe we could borrow a couple of horses and ride around the property and maybe a bit up the mountains behind the squatters’ place...see if we find evidence that could help us get to the bottom of this guy’s death.”

  Her face pinched for a moment, but then her smile returned...this time not quite reaching her eyes. “I haven’t been on a horse in years, but I’d be happy to help you out. Investigating a murder is far more fun than cleaning a house.” She walked to the coat closet and grabbed a jacket before turning back to him. “Wait, should I not say that? You being my employer and all?” She gave him a melting smile.

  It worked.

  “I’m not your employer...that would be my brother.” He took her jacket from her and lifted it so she could simply slip her arms into it. As she moved under his hands, his fingers grazed her skin, sending sparks shooting through him.

  He tried to ignore the way she made him feel, but the more he ignored it the hotter the sparks seemed to burn.

  He walked a few steps behind her on the way out to his motorcycle. For a moment, she stood staring at it. “
Um, do you just want to take my car?”

  He checked his laugh. “What? Are you afraid of a little danger?”

  Sabrina gave him a cute little half smirk. “There is a difference between danger and a death wish. Do you know how many people die each year on these things?”

  Though he couldn’t deny her logic, she wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. “I’ve always thought life should be lived to its fullest. Sure, you can stay in a safe little bubble and live an extra day, or you can grab life by the horns and ride it for all it’s got.”

  She laughed. “Of course, you would say that...if you want to ride, feel free, but I’ll be following you in my car.”

  In a strange way, he found comfort in her refusal. Clearly, she wasn’t the kind of woman who sought an adrenaline rush...or who wanted to court danger. Rather, she seemed to want to play by the rules. No one who lied for a living played by the rules all the time. There was a certain level of gray that just came with the life. He couldn’t count the number of times he had been forced to break the law in order to serve the greater good. It was one of the things he had missed most about standing in the countryside of Turkey, running guns over militarized borders and taking down men who deserved to die a thousand painful deaths in recompense for the horrendous crimes they had committed.

  Trevor had always considered himself to be on the side of righteousness when he’d been in the thick of things, but now...looking back, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had made mistakes. There had been plenty of times when he didn’t have to pull the trigger, when he could have let his target go...and yet, he’d never flinched. For him, there was never any hesitation. He was just there to do his job, do right by his family and get home safely. He’d never questioned his orders or his assignments. But what if he should have? What if he had killed innocents?

  “Let’s go ahead and take your car. I don’t have a helmet for you anyway. And the last thing I’d want is for you to get hurt.” He motioned toward her beat-up Pontiac. The paint was chipping around the wheel wells, and what paint remained was bubbling with rust. Clearly not a Bucar—a Bureau car—so she couldn’t have been sent here by the Feds. That was, unless they had put her in this junker so she wouldn’t fall under any unwanted scrutiny.

  They did undercover well, but they weren’t this good.

  Besides, what could he possibly be under investigation for—they worked for the CIA. However, in the US government, they were notorious for the right hand not knowing what the left hand was doing...and it had only gotten worse with the new leadership in the Oval Office on down.

  Then again, she could have been working for a foreign government. The Gray Wolves were known to have people planted throughout the Turkish government, and he wouldn’t have doubted that they also had government allies in and around Europe.

  He sighed as he opened her door and helped her into the car. He was making something out of nothing. Though he wasn’t completely innocent, he wasn’t guilty, either. He just needed to relax.

  He walked around to the passenger side and stopped for a moment, trying to contain the writhing ball of snakes that were his feelings. Even if an innocent person had been killed, it hadn’t likely been by him. He’d only fired on his enemies, but...they had been in an enclosed space. What if a round had ripped through the building and somehow struck someone outside? It had been known to happen.

  In his time in the military, they’d touched on the topic of collateral damage time and time again. He’d always told himself that he was above making mistakes, especially ones that involved lives... but now he couldn’t help questioning himself.

  He’d let his sister down. He’d let her die. What if he’d killed someone else’s family member in the process?

  He closed his eyes, but the second he closed them he saw Trish’s face, looking up at him as the pool of blood around her grew. He’d tried to save her. He’d killed at least five men getting to her, but by the time he’d gotten her to safety, it was already too late.

  Every night since he’d gotten back to the States, he’d had the same nightmare—him doing those damned chest compressions on Trish. Waiting for her to take a breath. Checking her pulse. And watching in terror as he realized she was gone.

  He was living in his own personal version of hell.

  He’d never forgive himself.

  All he could do now was protect the family he had left. And that started with making sure this Cussler guy’s family wasn’t going to come after them or bring the law down on them. They didn’t need any more trouble.

  As they drove to Dunrovin, he caught himself glancing over at Sabrina again and again. She seemed to be concentrating entirely too hard on her driving. Her eyes were picking up the light as it streamed in through the windshield, making them look even brighter. And now, in the sun, he could see the fine lines around her eyes and at the upturned corners of her mouth—the lines of someone who loved to laugh. In a way, it made her seem even more beautiful. Whoever had her on his arm was a lucky man.

  “Have you been to this place before?” he asked, forcing himself to look away.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I helped Gwen move their stuff to the new place when she and her mother decided to sell you all the ranch. Dunrovin is really nice. They’ve had some trouble in their past, but now they are up and running and doing well as a guest ranch.”

  They must not have the same problem with squatters that they were having at the Widow Maker. “Hey, you never did tell me what you knew about the Cusslers. I tried to look them up this morning, but it doesn’t appear that they have left much of a paper trail.”

  “I don’t know much, just what Gwen told me in passing.”

  “So she knew there were people living out there in the boondocks?”

  Sabrina passed him a guilty look.

  He wasn’t sure if he should be annoyed that his cousin hadn’t taken care of the problem before they arrived, or if he should be concerned. Gwen must have known the danger. Maybe she had avoided them out of fear.

  He just loved walking into a hornet’s nest.

  “Do you know how many folks we should be worried about out there?”

  “From what I know, which isn’t too much, it sounds like there were just some brothers. I’m assuming that the man we found is one of them.”

  “Were any of the brothers married?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. They were all pretty reclusive, but with that came an ability to live off the land. Whoever is left out there, they are certainly more than capable of surviving.”

  He nodded. He wasn’t worried about their ability to survive—in fact, he was about as far away from that concern as humanly possible. They were just looking for more potential threats. Hopefully he wouldn’t tangle with the remaining brothers, their wives, kids, grandkids, dogs and who knew who or what else. He had been in that situation before. Family dynamics always had a way of complicating any situation.

  When they found the rest of the clan—rather, if they found them—he could speak to them and discover what happened. Maybe he was making something out of nothing. Maybe the Cusslers had gotten in a fight, and the man he’d found had been on the losing end. Hopefully, this had nothing to do with the Gray Wolves, or Trevor’s family’s long-term safety.

  “I’m not sure if you’re aware,” Sabrina started, sounding nervous, “but Gwen’s husband, Wyatt, is the local sheriff’s deputy here.”

  “Sabrina, can I ask you something?” As he asked, he second-guessed himself.

  “Hmm?” she said, looking over at him and away from the road.

  “I appreciate you not wanting to make waves with this guy’s death...but why—”

  Her face pinched as she interrupted him. “Let’s just say that I don’t want to draw any unnecessary attention.”

  “Why? Are you on the run from the law or something?”

  She laughed, but the sound
was tight. “Hardly. I just don’t like drama. I’ve had enough of that over the last couple of years.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel nervously. “And as much as I think murderers should be held accountable, this guy didn’t seem like the type that would want someone digging too deeply into his life.”

  To a certain degree, he agreed with her. However, everything just felt off about her answer. She was hiding something.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of drama have you been going through?”

  She nibbled at her lip, like she was deciding whether to tell him the truth. It all came down to this—if she opened up to him he would finally be able to trust her. If she didn’t, well...

  “Let’s just say I found myself in a relationship with the worst possible man.”

  Oh.

  She was wounded. Now she was beginning to make a little more sense to him. He could understand some of the fear and pain she was feeling.

  “I get it.” It was the only thing he could think to say. What he really wanted to do was to pull her into his arms and make her feel better. Together, they could heal from the traumas of their past.

  Sabrina chuckled. “What about you—any skeletons in your closet?”

  He visibly twitched but tried to cover it up by casually scratching at his neck. He wasn’t sure he was ready to tell her about his own failed relationships. “I...I used to be married.”

  Instead of coming at him with questions, as he assumed she would, she sat in silence for a long time letting the road roll by.

  “I hope you know you can trust me,” she said, finally breaking the silence between them.

  This time he didn’t even try to cover up his twitch. There was no way she could possibly read his mind, and yet here they were. “The rifle at the head of my bed...”

  She tensed, her hands wrapping tight around the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. “Yeah, I was going to ask you about that.”

  At least she wasn’t denying or trying to hide the fact that she had gotten into his gun case. He could respect her honesty.

 

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