All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel (7 page)

“Murphy, do you have anything useful for me on Sinclair?”

“He’s business-as-usual this morning. Breakfast with his wife. He’s a couple thousand dollars down at the craps table. He doesn’t seem concerned that his baby sister skipped town.”

Cara’s gaze flew to Joe’s face. “What’s he talking about?”

Just then the waitress came to take their order, and they fell silent until she left.

“You sent Brian an e-mail late last night from an Internet café across the border in California,” Murphy said. “Told him you were taking some time off to look up an old friend in LA and you’d lost your cell phone but you’d keep in touch. To not worry. You get the idea.”

She straightened and anger flashed in her eyes. “Is that how this is going to work? You do everything behind my back? No, let me rephrase that.” Her fist hit the table. “That’s not how this is going to work. From now on, I make my own decisions.”

“Keep your voice down, Cara,” Joe said. “We did what we had to do.”

She didn’t seem to notice him, concentrating on Murphy, whose arrogant smile appeared to make her angrier.

“Do you even have a plan? I’m not sure you’re smart enough to lay a trap for Brian.”

“Cara.” Joe’s fingers closed around her elbow and squeezed. “The last thing we want to do is attract a crowd.”

She took a deep breath and seemed to compose herself.

Joe released her arm.

“As you know, our last plan didn’t end well.” No emotion shaded Murphy’s voice. Joe expected that from him, had almost gotten used to it, but this time it was Charlie Dugan’s life he trivialized.

Cara swallowed hard and her face turned a sickly gray.

Joe wanted to throttle Murphy, just on principle.

“Charlie… what was he trying to do?” Cara stared at her hands on the table.

“He was tracking shipments,” Joe said, “checking on buyers, investigating sales that didn’t look legit. Mostly he was hoping to be in the right place at the right time to find out when the next deal was going down.”

“You said he found something.”

“He called and said he found Sinclair’s notebook. I went to meet him.” Joe stopped, swallowing the anger that raged through him. “Somehow Sinclair knew and got to him before I did. You know the rest.”

“If Charlie found the notebook in the plant, maybe I could too.” Cara looked at Murphy.

“Did you forget your brother tried to have you killed last night? You can’t just waltz in there and let him have another shot.”

“Let’s not dismiss the idea without giving it some consideration,” Murphy said.

“We’re not sending her in there on a suicide mission.”

“You said she was good with a gun. Give her one.”

Joe fisted his hands and leaned toward Murphy. “You’d sacrifice anyone to get this job done. You don’t give a damn how many people die. We’re done here. Let’s go, Cara.”

“No. I didn’t ask for any of this. Do you think it’s easy for me to go against my brother? He’s the only family I have. Now I don’t even have him. I can’t be sure he’s the one who sent those gunmen last night or if they were even after me. I only have your word on that, and I don’t know you.” She paused, cleared her throat, then met Joe’s gaze. “All I know is my brother’s voice was on that tape, and what he did was unthinkable. So I want to do this. Just tell me what I’m looking for.”

“It’s too dangerous. Sinclair won’t let you walk out of there once he has you. It won’t work. We’ll think of another way.”

She ignored Joe and directed her gaze at Murphy. “How soon can we go?”

“The sooner the better. If we get to the plant in Portland before Sinclair returns home, you won’t have to worry about running into him.” A satisfied grin lit up Murphy’s face.

“Damn it!” Joe said. “Sinclair wasn’t anywhere around when his assassins tried to kill her last night. You can’t guarantee she’ll be safe whether he’s there or not. You want this so bad you’d do anything to get it. Tell her.”

“You’re right, Joe. I do want Sinclair pretty bad, but I think Cara does too. This is her decision.”

“Okay, it’s settled then.” She sat back.

“The hell it is.” Joe smacked the table hard. Other patrons turned to stare.

Now it was Cara who put her finger to her lips. “Shhh.”

He lowered his voice and leaned over the table. “The only way this is going down is if I go in with her, and it’s not happening today or tomorrow, or even next week. I need two weeks to teach her a few things that
might
save her life. She’s coming back to the ranch with me.”

“This is my decision, Joe,” Cara said.

“If you ever want my help on anything again, Murphy, you’ll give me this.”

Murphy studied him shrewdly. “And if I don’t?”

Joe leaned back. “Then I’ll have to kidnap her myself, and you’ll never see her again.”

“Why is this so important to you?”

“I promised Charlie.”

“Well, obviously you two don’t need me.” Cara scooted over and shouldered Joe. “Excuse me. I’ll just run to the little girls’ room while you two decide the rest of my life.”

Joe eyed her suspiciously but stood and she shoved past him. She walked toward the bathroom.

He swung his attention back to Murphy. “Well, are you doing this
with
my help, or without it?”

“Apparently, I don’t have much choice. We’ll do it your way for now, but I still don’t trust her completely, so watch your back. She is his sister, and blood really is thicker than water.”

“Your opinion is noted. In the meantime, see what you can find out about the connection between Dennelli and Sinclair. I don’t like getting blindsided like that. If Dennelli is involved in this, the stakes just went up.”

The waitress brought their breakfast and refilled their coffee cups. Joe dug into the scrambled eggs and strips of bacon. Murphy followed suit but kept glancing over Joe’s shoulder.

“Shouldn’t Mrs. Dennelli be back from the ladies’ room by now?” he asked a few minutes later.

“Pretty sure she never intended to stop there. Don’t worry. She won’t get far. Thanks for breakfast.” Joe stood. “Get me that information as soon as you can.” He started to go, then leaned close to the other man. “And don’t call her that anymore. I don’t think she’s fond of the name.” He turned and strode from the diner.

Chapter Six

Saturday, 10:58 am

C
ARA WALKED TOWARD
the bathroom, skirted past the door at the last minute, and headed for the back exit. Once outside, she hurried through the alley to the end of the block and looked for a cab. Seeing none, she pulled the brim of her hat lower, tried to dismiss the feeling she was making a mistake, and started back toward city center.

She didn’t know where to go, but she’d had enough of Joe and Murphy manipulating her life. Let them fight over how they were going to use her until they discovered she was gone. Gradually, the outline of a simple plan formed in her mind. Get a rental car and drive to Portland, pack a few essentials, and hop a plane to someplace far away. Italy, maybe, or Greece. Surely she could hide herself there.

She rejected the plan almost as quickly as it came. If Brian really wanted her dead, he’d find her. He could trace her through credit cards or any number of ways. It was smarter to stick to the original plan. Find a way to send him to jail. Cara didn’t need Murphy or Joe. She could go in to the office and look for Brian’s notebook on her own.

Would he really kill her? He was her brother, for God’s sake. Bits and pieces of the tape replayed through her mind until she felt sick and wanted to scream out her frustration. If Joe was telling the truth, Brian had already tried to kill her once. What if it was too dangerous to go alone and unprepared?

About a mile from the diner, Joe’s car passed her and parked along the curb up ahead. She slowed her pace. He got out and leaned his tall frame nonchalantly against the car. His gaze followed her as she drew closer. There was no anger in his eyes, even though she’d defied his will, putting herself in danger after he risked his life to save her. He had a right to be upset. A few feet away she stopped, biting her lip, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. He waited quietly, giving away nothing of what he was thinking, his thumbs hooked in his front pockets.

The same aura of power and control she first sensed in the casino hung over him now and, unexpectedly, some of her apprehension dropped away.

Slowly, she approached until she leaned against the car beside him. “Did you and Murphy come to an agreement?”

“Yep, we’re doing it my way.” He looked sideways at her. “It’s the best plan.”

“I know.”

He raised an eyebrow and a hint of a smile tugged at his mouth. “If you know, why were you so set on doing it Murphy’s way?”

Cara shrugged.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Can we go now?”

“Where’s this ranch of yours?”

“Kalispell, Montana. It’s not really a ranch. No horses or cows, but you’ll be safe there.”

Cara faced him for a moment and forced her eyes to meet his. “I should probably thank you… for saving my life.”

“Just don’t make me sorry.” His tone was gruff, but his eyes twinkled with humor.

“No promises.” A grin hid her certainty he would indeed regret helping her before this was finished.

Saturday, 2:04 pm

O
NCE IN THE
air, the cockpit of Joe’s Cessna Citation closed in around her, and the proximity of his body made Cara tense and claustrophobic. In the last ten minutes, she’d thought of a dozen reasons why this was a bad idea… not her worst bad idea, but bad just the same. She desperately needed to get up and move around. Surely she’d self-destruct if she didn’t get off this plane. As she opened her mouth, ready to say “take me home,” his hand touched her arm.

“Afraid to fly?”

“Not usually.”

“I suppose that means you don’t trust my piloting ability either?” A frown creased his forehead.

She held her breath a moment. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Her voice shook.

He glanced her way, his gaze dropping to her hands.

She crossed her arms, tucking her trembling fingers from sight.

“Ask me anything.”

“I thought maybe, if I knew you a little better, it might be… good.” Perfect. She couldn’t even talk around this man.

“Can’t hurt.” He smiled encouragingly.

“How did you get into… killing people?” Cara clamped her lips closed. She didn’t mean to say that. What was wrong with her? She snuck a peek at him.

He stared straight ahead out the window, giving no indication what he was thinking or how inappropriate he’d found her question.

She chewed her lower lip and waited. As the silence stretched, however, she lifted her chin defiantly. She wouldn’t apologize. It might not have been a politically correct question, but it wasn’t unfair under the circumstances.

He turned slowly and met her eyes. “I could ask you the same damn thing.”

His cold glare hit her like a physical blow, sending her back in time to that night on the beach. Her world spun as she fought to rid herself of the images of the man she’d shot. She’d tried so hard to block out the memory—just for a while, until… what? Until she could accept that her brother was a murderer and a gunrunner and he’d tried to kill her. God, wasn’t that enough?

She could see the man, as though he still stood in front of her. Dark suit, light-colored shirt, blood spreading from the wound in his chest to his abdomen and soaking through the waistband of his slacks. The drizzly, damp air of the coast lay on her skin, the ocean roared in her ears, and the cold, hard steel was gripped tightly in her hand.

It took a moment before she realized the waves roaring in her ears were really her breathing, gasping, sucking air in and out of her chest, and still she couldn’t get enough. The next instant, Joe’s arm was around her shoulders and he pulled an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.

“Breathe. In and out. Regular breaths. That’s it. That’s better.” He continued to talk her calmly through the attack. A few minutes later, he slowly removed the mask.

“Touché.” Her voice wavered. “I’m sorry. That was…”

“When I was young and naive, I signed up for a tour in Afghanistan. I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into, but once you’re there, you catch on or they send you home in a body bag. I was lucky… good at staying alive, and keeping those around me alive too. I guess I thought I was making a difference. So, I re-upped and went wherever they needed me.” He turned to look at her, his gaze sweeping her face, his eyes full of concern. “When my third tour was up, and I was still alive, I figured I better get the hell out of there while I still had my skin. I came home and got a nice, quiet job with the Secret Service, protecting the president’s family.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Trust me. It’s not. In fact, it’s about as boring and tedious a job as you can imagine: except for the occasional intense adrenaline highs, just often enough to keep you on your toes. That’s when I met Murphy, and he talked me into training a couple of his undercover operatives in my spare time.”

“What kind of training?”

“The kind you only learn in the field, against scum who have no moral code and who place absolutely no value on human life. I taught my students how to survive, how to kill and any other techniques Uncle Sam deemed appropriate. Still do.” He paused, watching her.

Cara waited, dreading. “Go on.”

“It was about time for my rotation off the protection detail, and I knew Murphy wanted me to train full-time.” Joe shrugged. “I’m really a hands-on kind of guy. It wouldn’t take long for that to get old, so I quit and went out on my own. Started my own training facility. Turns out there are plenty of government and law enforcement agencies that need my expertise. I can be selective about who I train and get paid a hell of a lot more than Murphy wanted to shell out. Plus, I contract my services to a few handpicked agencies, which gets me out in the field enough I don’t get bored.”

Joe’s story, though brief, wasn’t what she’d expected. That he worked for government and law enforcement reassured her somewhat. At least he’d come by his dangerous skills honestly. She admired his dedication and desire to make a difference. There was more than one side to this man. Perhaps she’d misjudged him.