Countermeasure (31 page)

Carl needed to be rested when he left Paris for Monaco in the morning. It was a long drive and he didn’t want to fall asleep at the wheel. He planned to cool his heels in the casinos, trying his luck at the tables while waiting for the bids to roll in. Visions of a life of luxury filled with money, women, and gambling crowded his mind.

****

Cassandra awoke for the third time, surrounded by Trevor’s masculine spicy scent on the bed covers. Stretching, she reached out for him. Her eyes snapped open when her hand only encountered the slightly cooled sheets instead of his warm body. Rising to her elbows, she looked around the room, but he wasn’t there.

Had Trevor bailed on their pursuit and returned home?
She was aware that Allison’s murder had affected him, but she couldn’t figure out to what extent. During their conversations, she had learned about his wish for adventure. However, she was fairly certain what they had been through the night before had gone way beyond his expectations. His little dream vacation had gone from
Mission Impossible
to
Saw
overnight, and she wouldn’t be totally surprised to find out he had run.

Disappointment pinched at her at the thought that Trevor might have left her to her own devices. Then she noticed the sound of the television in the background and realized he might still be around. Pushing her hair from her face, she slipped her legs off the edge of bed and heard the beep of the door being unlocked. A second later, Trevor walked in the bedroom carrying a tray with cups exuding a wonderful aroma.

“Don’t move,” he told her with an easy smile as he set the tray on the desk.

Cassandra’s relief at seeing him rivaled her self-consciousness at being still nude. She sat back in bed, quickly pulled the sheets up, and tucked them tightly under her arms, covering as much of her skin as possible from his view. A silly reaction, considering Cassandra was sure Trevor could recall every inch of her body from memory; but she was still compelled to put that barrier between them—old habits.

Trevor approached the bed and handed her a cup. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” She inhaled the strong aroma of the tea coming from the tray and took the cup from his hand. Expecting to taste tea and longing for her usual cup of coffee, she took the first sip from her cup. She looked up at him in surprise when she realized it contained the coffee she craved, and that it had been doctored just the way she liked it.

“Enough cream to brown it, enough sugar to sweeten it.” Trevor took a sip from his own cup and flashed a boyish grin. “Like it?”

Cassandra smiled back. “God, yes! Coffee!” she moaned in delight. “And just the way I like it. How’d you know?”

“I told you, Cassie. I see you.”

His simple statement thrilled her. The little voice on her shoulder warned her about the consequences of giving him a piece of her heart, however small that piece might be. Cassandra was aware of them all. But for once in her life, she was going to play it by ear and enjoy the moment while she had it. No plans, no analysis, no overthinking. She would channel Jessica and go with the flow.

Trevor locked eyes with her. They stayed like that for a few seconds in silence, sipping from their cups and contemplating each other as if trying to figure out what to say. The awkward moment was broken when Cassandra noticed out of the corner of her eye a flash of lights on the television.

She drew Trevor’s attention to the screen. “That looks like Allison’s building.”

The curve of Trevor’s lips faded into a tight grim line and sadness flashed across his features. He sat on the bed next to her and nodded to the screen. “Her murder has been on the news all morning.”

Cassandra’s mind, now fueled by coffee, finally faced what she had feared since the moment they had fled the scene. “Trevor, our car is parked out there. We need to retrieve it. Besides that, we can’t be totally sure we’re in the clear. What about George, any news?”

“Nothing solid so far, but it shouldn’t be too long now. Why don’t you take a shower and change while I get the car?” His tone was gentle and slightly calming, as if sensing that she needed some space and time to regroup.

She nodded and set her cup on the nightstand, expecting him to leave. Instead, Trevor leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her lips. After a moment’s hesitation, he cupped her face and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. “I can never get enough of this, or you.”

Cassandra inhaled deeply as she watched him walked away. Once he left the room, she gingerly got out of bed. The soreness between her thighs and the abrasion his five o’clock shadow had left on her skin were reminders of their night of loving. A hot blush flowed from her neck to her cheeks and she smiled. The image of him staring into her eyes as he pleasured her with his mouth would forever be burned in her mind.

She looked around the floor for her clothes and found them folded in a neat pile on the chair beside the bed. A blush flooded her cheeks again at the thought of him folding her bra and undies. She pulled on her jeans and top, scooped the folded bra and undies in her hand, and headed back across the hall.

Cassandra quickly picked out a new set of clothing and jumped in the shower for a much-needed soak. Her head was still spinning from his goodbye kiss, and the spray of water caressing her skin became another reminder of Trevor’s fingers and hands gliding over her. Thoughts of him hit her at every turn and her old fears continued to play havoc with her mind.

Back in Trevor’s room, she settled on the couch to wait for him. Hopefully George would soon have some information to allow them to continue with their search for Carl Kenyon. Cassandra refused to let go. She refused to just turn tail and run, even after being confronted with more risks than they had originally anticipated. She wanted to be ready when George got back to them with good news, and hoped Trevor would still be on board with the plan she had in mind.

****

Trevor returned to find Cassandra in operative mode, seated cross-legged on the couch and watching the news intently. Her body language screamed all work and no play. He knew she wasn’t a quitter, but the murder might have brought back enough bad memories to make her reconsider chasing after the files.

For him, Allison’s death had been a wakeup call to the reality that the road to hell was paved with good intentions. Some people became so focused on their beliefs and ideologies that they did bad things to get results they thought to be for the good of all. Allison was one of them. Whatever pushed her to do what she had done was something she had deeply believed in.

Her death added to the anger he had kept burning inside after his parents’ disappearance. Good people who had never hurt anyone, taken from him the same way Allison had been taken from her family. As painful as her death was to them, they were lucky to have immediate closure. They would claim her body, mourn, and learn to live with the palpable reality of her death. He didn’t have that. All he had was uncertainty, disbelief, and the unknown. It was a wound that would not heal until he knew for certain what had happened to his parents.

The compound anger and the injustice of it all made him snap and reshape his quest into something bigger. At that moment, while going through their action plan in his head, he claimed Allison’s mission as his own. The retrieval of the hard drive and unmasking of those involved in her death was just the tip of the iceberg.

Cassandra glanced up. “Have you seen all this?”

“I was listening to the news on the radio. The police have no clues to the motive behind her death or any suspects at this point.” Trevor walked to his laptop to access his email and look for any news from George.

After a few minutes of intense concentration, he opened a big smile. “George has a trace on one of the numbers. He said it’s triangulating. Moving South on the A6 highway. He’ll let us know when he has a solid location.”

“This is driving me crazy—I hate sitting like a duck, waiting for things to happen,” Cassandra grumbled.

Trevor laughed. “I know. I have seen your foot tapping plenty of times this past week.” He then turned to her and asked point-blank, “What are your plans once we have the location?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“I am going after the fucker with or without you,” he asserted.

Cassandra was a little surprised at how cool and collected Trevor was when he said those words. To her it felt like the calm before the storm. “This is my case, Trevor. Of course I am going after him. You’ve held up your end of the bargain. You don’t need to stay.” Even as the words left her mouth, she hoped he wouldn’t leave.

“I’m not going anywhere, Cassie. This has become personal for me. We’re going after him together. Now, more than ever, I’m not letting you do this alone. And it’s not because of my feelings for you or what happened between us last night; I can’t sit back and not do everything I possibly can do to bring Allison peace, to see her goal achieved.”

“Her goal will be achieved once we get the hard drive back to Bristol and the files’ integrity assured.”

A glint she couldn’t decipher shone in his blue eyes. “Yes. Our goal is to retrieve that hard drive. George will get in touch as soon as he has news. I know it’s a pain to sit still, but in the meantime we can start our own little research project and learn everything we can about that son of a bitch, Carl Kenyon.”

Cassandra sat at her laptop. Almost in sync, they began their research on the man. Using their combined expertise, they collected information and shared the new facts they uncovered over Chinese takeout boxes and soda cans as the day progressed.

Later that night, they took stock of the information they’d gathered on Kenyon. His love–hate relationship with money was evident, based on the number of collections filed against him in his home state of New York. His medical record contained a number of serious concussions and fractures that had been described on the medical charts as the results of physical altercations. Associated police reports contained more detailed versions of those events. One of them included a description of how a thug had approached Kenyon to collect on a debt he had owed to a known bookie in New Jersey: it hadn’t ended well for Kenyon.

The extensive research they compiled indicated Kenyon was a follower. It also painted a clear picture of what motivated him—money. It still didn’t reveal, however, who was orchestrating the scheme, the one footing the bill. Cassandra hoped they could pull some additional data that would provide her with a more detailed psych profile by the time they had pinned down Kenyon’s location.

The long hours in front of the screens without a break had taken a toll on them both. Cassandra’s thoughts were becoming muddled and her eyes were tired and itchy. Trevor must have noticed because, when she yawned for the fourth time, he said, “Cassie, take a break. You’re killing me with the yawning. You know it causes a chain reaction, right?” After a little pause, he coaxed, “Why don’t you go lie down? I’m almost finished here. I just need to check my email before I can turn in.”

Cassandra’s eyes met his and found a small question he had not voiced. As much as she had enjoyed the night in his arms, she was still unsure how to handle their newfound intimacy, so she took the easy way out.

“Yeah. I’m dying here. I think I’ll head to bed.” His eyes bore into her back as she made a beeline for the door. She called out over her shoulder, “I’ll see you early in the morning. How about six o’clock?” She didn’t wait for his answer and slipped out of his room. Undressing on her way to her bed, she slid under the covers and tried hard to ignore the disappointment she’d read in his eyes.

Trevor watched in disbelief as the door closed behind Cassandra. When he had suggested she go to bed, he had been referring to his bed, his arms. But she had fled as if she hadn’t been able to bear the thought of being close to him again. His heart plummeted.
Was I wrong about what I saw in her eyes? About her interest in me?
Those questions sliced through him like a serrated knife.

After a few moments of incredulity, he returned his attention to his screen. He checked for any new emails from George; not finding any, he closed the laptop. With a sigh, Trevor walked to the big master bedroom and stood facing the unmade bed, a rumpled witness to all that had transpired between them during the intense night spent within its folds.

He’d hoped to share the bed with her again, even if just to cradle her in his arms and feel her warmth against him throughout the night. Instead, only the cold sheets would embrace him. Laying his head on the pillow, he could still smell her scent permeating the sheets. Turning onto his back, he covered his eyes with his arm and tried his best to find something other than her to think about.

****

Cassandra woke up a few hours later sensing something amiss. At first, she couldn’t pinpoint the source but, once she could think clearly, she knew what it was—Trevor. She had been dreaming of him.
Coward, s
he berated herself, and turned on her side to stare out into the darkness.

Her traitorous mind had forced her to retreat. Cassandra missed him, his warmth, his touch. Jessica’s words echoed in her head again, causing her to feel even worse. Cassandra had assured herself she would play it cool, go with the flow, but when she found him chipping away at her walls, she had taken off just like before, like a bat out of hell.

Running hadn’t changed her need for him or the fact that she still craved his presence. She left the bed, and, for the second time, kicked herself into gear with the hope that he hadn’t written her off completely.

Wrapped in the hotel robe, she hurried across the hall and into his room, which was partially illuminated by the moonlight, allowing her to see him lying in bed on his back. He had an arm over his face and appeared to be out for the count. She approached the bed silently and slipped out of her robe and under the covers. She scooted just close enough to feel his warmth envelop her as she lay on her side watching him.

Suddenly, Trevor’s arm slipped under her shoulders and pulled her against his chest so that her body half covered his and her head rested on his shoulder. He turned his head on the pillow and whispered, “What took you so long?”