No One to Trust (Hidden Identity Book #1): A Novel (18 page)

Her words pierced, sharper than any knife. “Summer, don’t say anything. Wait until the danger is over, then we’ll sit down and have a long talk.”

“I can’t,” she whispered and stared at him, sorrow and grief etched on her face. “If I can’t trust you, I can’t love you.”

David let the pain shatter through him, then shut it off. He stood, and before he could help her, Summer got to her feet, the words leaving a black hole between them.

He gathered her coat. “They’re gone. It’s time to move and get this over with.”

Summer followed David from their temporary haven. She wrapped the coat tightly around her and couldn’t help examining every nook and cranny her eyes landed on. Her heart ached with a sorrow that felt like a mortal wound. The flash of pain he hadn’t been able to hide still stood out in detail in her memory. Waves of fatigue pulled at her as she pushed herself to keep up with David.

I want my life back
, God. I hate this. I don’t understand why you
’re doing this. I want you to make it all
go away. Please make it go away. It’s not
fair and I’m just really, really tired.

Summer plodded on, nausea dogging her steps.

“You okay?”

“Peachy.”

He stopped and turned. “You’re pale. You sure you’re all right?”

She dropped onto a rotting tree trunk. “I’m just whining.”

He lifted a brow. “I haven’t heard you complain about one thing.”

“That’s because I wasn’t talking to you.” She swallowed hard. “I need to sit for a minute. I feel really shaky.”

He leaned over and cupped her chin. “If you can make it to the cabin, I’ll be able to fix us a meal.”

Her stomach growled in response. A smile curved his lips, but the pain of her words still lingered in his eyes. She sighed. “What cabin?”

“An old cabin my grandmother used to lease out during hunting season. It sits in the middle of twenty-two acres. It’s got four deer stands, a lake with a canoe, and a pantry stocked with canned goods.”

“Won’t they know that’s where we’re going?”

He shook his head. “No one knows about this place.”

“What about your parents? Your brother?”

“Well, they know about it. Technically. But they probably haven’t thought about it in forever.” He held a low-lying branch so she could scoot under. “And they don’t know I own it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it was put up for auction about six years ago after the man who bought it from my grandmother passed away. My parents didn’t want anything to do with the place when my grandparents lived there. Sold it as soon as the ink was dry on the will.”

She stopped and leaned against a tree to catch her breath. She studied him. “That made you mad, didn’t it?”

He checked the trail behind them, checked his weapon. “Yeah.” He shook his head and sighed. “It made me mad. My grandparents were there for me when I was growing up. It seemed . . . dishonorable . . . to just sell everything off. Like their lives didn’t matter. Or like they just never existed.”

“So you bought the place.”

“Yep. It’s my refuge.”

She shoved away from the tree. “Then let’s get going.” Together, they made their way north. Sometimes they followed a trail. Sometimes they fought their way through the dense growth. Thirty minutes passed.

“Do you think we’re safe?” she asked.

“For the moment.”

“Until they figure out we didn’t go that way?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” He glanced at her. “You’re looking a little better.”

“I feel a little better.”

He stopped and pointed. “There.”

“What?”

“It’s just about a mile that way.”

“You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” He shot her a sidelong glance and took her hand to help her along.

“I mean, you brought us this far. You used Bennie as a taxi service to get us up here.” She stumbled and he helped steady her. She rubbed a hand across her eyes. “At least all this exercise is keeping me warm.”

“Yeah. I did. I knew where I could wreck the car and hopefully walk away from it.”

“You took a big risk.”

“It was even riskier to let Bennie stay in control.”

“I’m still worried about Marlee.”

He blew out a breath. “We’ll check on her soon. She might be
uncomfortable, but I’m willing to bet she’s still alive. He won’t kill her yet.”

Summer prayed he was right.

But what if he wasn’t?

They crested a hill and she looked down into a small valley nestled in the midst of the trees. Four small log cabins lay before her, divided by a rushing creek. Two cabins on one side, two on the other. “Which one is yours?”

“All of them.”

“Why do you need four log cabins?”

He smiled. “After my grandfather died, my grandmother used to rent them out.”

“To who?”

“Vacationers who wanted to escape civilization, hunters during hunting season.” He shrugged. “She kept them booked year-round for the most part. The winter months were a little slow, but . . .” He shrugged.

“And now they’re yours.”

“Yep.” He led her over to a tree. “Stay here for a minute.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I just want to check the area.”

Summer leaned against the tree and slid to the ground, pulling the coat tighter around her neck. When she quit moving, she cooled off fast. Shivering, she watched David skirt the trees and make his way down to the first cabin. He must have been satisfied with whatever it was he found, because he stepped out and waved her down.

Summer stood and took a deep breath. Thoughts swirled like a whirlpool.
Please God,
just . . . please.

She started down the hill to the cabin. The back of her head tingled as though she had a red-and-white bull’s-eye stamped there with one of Raimondi’s men looking through the scope.

She hurried to the door and stepped inside. Sparse, covered
furniture greeted her. Dust coated every surface. But at least they were out of the wind.

“Can you make a fire?” she asked.

“Not here. But the electricity’s on and I have a couple of portable heaters we can use. Just don’t turn on the lights. The windows are covered so we’re good there.” He walked down a small hall and came back with two small heaters. He plugged them in and said, “If you want to pull the covers off the furniture, I’ll be right back.”

He left and she peered through the small window over the couch. He crossed a small bridge over the creek to the other side. Curious, she continued to watch, wondering what he had planned when he entered the cabin directly across from her.

Ten minutes later, smoke curled from the chimney, and she frowned as she pulled the cover from the couch. Dust swirled and she coughed. Then sneezed. Expensive brown leather greeted her. Opposite that was a wooden rocker with a cushion.

David came back in and laid his gun on the small kitchen table. He walked over to the corner of the kitchen and knelt down. “There are some canned soups and things in the pantry by the refrigerator. The fridge is empty except for some water bottles, but that should do for a meal for now.”

Summer, still feeling a bit shaky, examined the selection of soups. “Vegetable or chicken noodle?”

“I don’t care. You don’t even have to heat it if you don’t want.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Ew.”

He ducked his head and she thought he might be trying to hide a smile. “There’s a pot in that cabinet next to the sink.”

She rummaged and found a pot. Next she scrounged up a hand-cranked can opener. Once she had the soup on the stove, she asked, “Why did you build a fire in the other cabin?”

He glanced at her. “Because if they track us down, I’m hoping they’ll check that cabin first and we’ll get advance warning that they’re here.”

“Oh. But what if they see the fire and come investigate?”

“In the dark, they won’t see the smoke in this little valley. If they’re close enough to see the smoke, they know we’re here.”

“Okay. How long do you think we have?”

“A couple of hours at the most. Maybe less.” He grunted, then pulled at a piece of the flooring and it popped loose.

“So what are we going to do?”

He reached into the small hole in the floor and removed a metal box. He walked to the table and sat on one of the wooden kitchen chairs. “Think.”

“About?”

“How to get out of this mess alive and keep Marlee alive in the process.” He set the box on the table and opened it.

She sat across from him. “What’s that?”

“My emergency stash.” He reached in the box and pulled out two revolvers, a stack of cash, and a cell phone.

“That’s why you wanted to come here.”

“This and other reasons.”

He stood and walked to the window. He pushed aside the dusty curtain to peek out. “So far so good.”

“Are you going to call Chase or Adam?”

“Not yet.”

She nodded to the phone he held. “What are you going to do with that?”

“Call for . . . more experienced . . . reinforcements.”

David finished the calls and felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Now that he was the one calling the shots, his blood pressure eased even while his pulse quickened. Now was the time to end this. Now was the time to act. Making it to the trial had been his goal. Now, he just wanted them stopped. He’d given them almost two years of his life.

No more.

David readied the weapons and handed one to Summer. He had four guns. His Glock and the two from his stash. He also had the Smith & Wesson in his ankle holster he’d managed to retrieve from the wreck.

David knew he would be cutting it tight with the reinforcements on the way. He had no doubt Hayes was still out there hunting. And Raimondi was doing his best to dig up every last detail of David’s life. He knew Raimondi finding out about this place was a long shot, but it wasn’t impossible. If the man decided to search the public records, he’d find it. David hoped to be gone before that happened.

He wolfed down the equivalent of three cans of the soup. He finished chugging a bottle of water and looked up to find Summer watching him. “What is it?”

“Why me?” she asked.

He set aside the extra ammunition, buying time to develop an answer.

“Why me, David?” she asked again.

He sighed. “Summer, the moment I saw you, I knew there was something special about you. Not just your outward beauty, but an inner something that I’ve seen only on rare occasions and never had the opportunity to spend any time around. All my life I’ve only been around people who want to take. Or hurt. Or kill.” He swallowed hard and met her gaze. “But when you looked up at me and laughed after spilling your purse everywhere in the bank, I was . . . captured.” She didn’t say anything. He said, “I wanted what you had.”

Confusion creased her forehead. “What did I have?”

“I think—God.”

She blinked. “God?”

“You have such a close relationship with him, you don’t even realize how that comes through in just your everyday living.”

A low laugh escaped her. He winced at the lack of humor. She said, “I don’t know about that. I’m not really speaking to him much right now, although I suppose I should be.”

He gave her a gentle smile. “Well, I am. And you’re speaking to him or you wouldn’t be listening to your praise and worship music every chance you get.”

She nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words.

David said, “And while Ron was the one that led me to know who Christ is, you’re the one who showed me what living for him day in and day out is all about.”

Her mouth moved. She shut it. She couldn’t seem to find the words needed to express whatever she was thinking, feeling. He waited.

She finally said, “Tell me about when you went to New York to get the laptop. And how does Ron fit into the picture? You said he saved your life and led you to Christ. How?”

“I gave the file with the video of the murder on it to the FBI. They were working with the local OCTF.”

“The what?”

“Organized Crime Task Force.”

“So that’s when you went into the Witness Protection Program?”

“Yes. But I was also thinking.”

“You’re always thinking,” she said softly.

“True.” He couldn’t deny it. His brain never shut off, not even to sleep. When he did manage to snag a few hours, when he woke, he was still chewing on a problem—or had a solution to one. “I was thinking about that laptop and the flash drive. And the more I thought about where I’d hidden it, the more I worried it wasn’t secure enough.”

“Where was it?”

“In a safe deposit box.”

She blinked. “And that wasn’t safe enough for you?”

He shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. I could see Raimondi staging a bank robbery or hacking into the computer system and discovering which box it was in or—” He grimaced. “I should have left it alone, but I went back.” He gave her a soft smile. “And I wouldn’t change the way everything played out for anything.”

“Why?”

“Because it led me to Ron and to Christ, but hush, I’m telling this story my way. I’m getting to the good parts.”

“And how is this information on the flash drive so important it was worth risking your life for? Risking our lives for now?”

“A lot of high-ranking government officials are in Raimondi’s pocket. If that laptop comes to light, Raimondi is a dead man. He’s committed murder for some of these people. And the proof is there. Pictures, dates, everything. All logged and documented. Sam had the flash drive hooked up that day I was copying the video. I saw a lot of that stuff that day.”

“How did they know all that was on it?”

“Sam told them. He’s using it for the same reason I am. He let them know that if he dies, the laptop will fall into the hands of the authorities.”

“But how is that going to happen since you now have the laptop?”

He rubbed his eyes. “I suspect there’s already a plan to have Sam killed.”

“Oh.”

“So you got the laptop and flash drive from New York and brought them here.”

“In a roundabout way.” He did another sweep of the windows and checked the guns again. “When I went back to New York after our honeymoon, I had one thing in mind. Get the laptop, hide it in a much better place, and get back to you without anyone being the wiser.”

She grimaced. “Only it didn’t quite work that way.”

“No.”

“Where does Ron fit in?”

“I made it to New York, got the laptop without any problem, and figured I was pretty good to go. I made it almost to Virginia when I came across this guy hitchhiking.”

“So you picked him up?” She stared at him.

“I figured why not? Raimondi’s men weren’t looking for two guys, they were looking for one. I decided a hitchhiker would provide a nice little bit of cover.”

She shook her head. “Did you use everyone you met?”

He winced and cleared his throat. “You have to understand, Summer, that’s all I saw growing up. I thought that’s what you did to be successful. I thought looking out for me was the smart thing to do, the only thing to do. So . . . yeah. Everyone who crossed my path was a ‘potential.’ I would size them up and ask myself, ‘What can this person do for me?’ or ‘How can I use this person to further my own agenda?’”

“That’s awful, David.” She swallowed hard. “I’m having a hard
time picturing you that way. I just know the man who sat with Mrs. Carlisle until the paramedics came and got her blood sugar stabilized. I see you helping the Smith kids build their tree house because their dad was serving overseas and they needed a male role model. I see you biting your tongue 99 percent of the time when Marlee is being selfish and demanding.” She pulled in a deep breath. “I keep playing those scenes and more, over and over in my head, telling myself that you’re not this other man.” Tears welled in her eyes and his heart ached.

“I’m . . . both. Or I was.” He knelt in front of her and gripped her hands. He’d effectively trapped her. Sitting in the chair, she had nowhere to go. Maybe she’d stay put and listen. “Summer, I’ve been forgiven. I’ve desperately tried—with God’s help—to change my life.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Some days over the past year, for just a brief moment, I would forget everything else and just focus on the present, on us, our life. And I would thank God for it.” He looked up. “It was dangerous to do that, but I wanted what we had to be real. To be true.”

“I thought it was,” she whispered.

“I know.”

She pulled away and stood, forcing him to shuffle backwards on his knees. He rose and she smoothed her palms down her jean-clad thighs and stepped away from him, keeping her back to him. “What happened after you picked up Ron?” she asked.

David gave a snort and rubbed his eyes. “Summer, I was a gambler.”

She swung around to look at him. “A what?”

“I gambled. A lot. And I lost. A lot.” He held his hands up. “It was like therapy or something. When I was playing cards and betting large sums, I could forget the nightmares of war, what I saw in Afghanistan, what I had to do while I was there. I could forget each piece of evidence that I found that proved the FBI was right and my partner, my closest friend, was a crook.” He shrugged. “I don’t really know how to explain it. But gambling is just as addicting as
any drug.” The shock in her expression cut him, but he knew he had to keep going. “In the end, I owed a lot of money to a rather unscrupulous bookie. You see, I moved from cards to horses.” He shot her a look. “I was a statistic. I had a lot of money, but it was tied up in my business. And I never wanted to do anything to hurt the business. I was a gambler, but I wasn’t going to be stupid and hurt my livelihood. I did manage to keep from doing that.”

“But?”

“Yeah, I thought I was so smart. I’d always been a winner. Borrowing from a loan shark was no big deal. I could pay it back from my next winnings. Only there weren’t any winnings.” He gave a rough laugh. “At least not enough to pay my debt. I was a fool.” David paced, his story making him antsy. It was hard to revisit those days, but she deserved to know the truth. “You want to hear something crazy?”

“More crazy than what you’re already telling me?”

She had a point. “Before I had Raimondi after me, I had a bookie who was ready to do some serious bodily damage to me.”

“David,” she whispered.

“I know. I know. But here’s how it all ties together. The night I left New York with the laptop, the bookie’s goons found me.”

“How?”

“I still don’t know. Dumb luck, chance, whatever.” He paced a few more steps, then stopped. “I prefer to think of it as a divine appointment. God did it.”

“God? God sent the bad guys after you?”

Her confusion made him grimace. “You’ll understand in a minute. So, I’m driving down the highway and I pick up Ron. We make small talk for a while and then he pulls out his Bible and starts reading silently.” He tapped his finger against the butt of his weapon. “I’ve never cared much for religion. It had never done anything for me, so why would I be interested in it? I let Ron know this in no uncertain terms.”

Summer swallowed hard and stared. “But you went to church with me. You had all the right answers.”

He sighed. “Yes, I knew all the right things to say to get you to fall in love with me. And I knew it would make you happy.”

She flinched. “What about your grandmother? I remember you telling me about her one time. That she was a big influence in your life when it came to God.”

“She was. Which is how I knew all the right things to say and do. But I ignored her for the most part. Until Ron started saying the same things she’d said. The same things I’d heard you say . . . and seen you live.”

“Oh.”

“About that time, I noticed a tail, but Ron had piqued my curiosity. I decided to keep an eye on the car behind me and keep Ron talking. But he noticed the tail too. He looked at me and asked what I’d done and wanted to know why we were being followed. For some reason, I spilled the story. We were followed for the next three hours. Ron talked the whole time, answering my questions. And then they ran us off the road and started shooting at us. Ron pulled out a gun and shot back. I was beat up and fading in and out of consciousness with a concussion. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital.”

“That seems to happen to you on a regular basis.”

He raised a brow and gave a chuckle. “I suppose twice in the span of a little over a year is a bit much, isn’t it?”

“What happened to the computer?”

“That was my first thought when I opened my eyes and remembered what happened. Ron was sitting beside me. He handed me the laptop. He asked if he could pray with me, and I let him. Then he walked out of the hospital room. I left that night, sick with a concussion, but figured that was the least of my worries. I knew it wouldn’t be long before either the bookie showed up or Raimondi’s goons.” He checked his watch, then the window. “All right, the sun’s going down. I need you to keep watch.”

“That’s it?”

“What?”

“The story with Ron. That’s it?”

“No.” He shoved his weapon into the holster under his left arm. “There’s more, but it’ll have to wait.”

“David—”

“Sorry, I’ll finish it later. Right now, I have a job to do.”

“What kind of job?”

“I’m going to set a trap.”