Shadow of Sin (The Martin Family) (18 page)

What were they missing?

“This isn’t helping,” Brandon cut in. “We don’t have any evidence that leads us to believe anything other than the obvious. Samantha.”

“I’m telling you, Bran —”

“Give me something to work with, Alec. Because a hunch isn’t going to cut it. We can’t do jack shit with a hunch. If you’re so sure we have it wrong, then please. Give us something we can use.”

Caleb stopped pacing and looked between his brothers. Brandon’s unexpected outburst silenced the room for a moment. Of the four of them, Brandon was usually the calm one. Logical and level-headed.

Alec glared at Brandon. “Because my gut feeling can’t possibly be as reliable as Joe’s, Caleb’s, or yours, right Bran?”

Brandon rubbed a hand over his head. “Grow the fuck up, Alec. This isn’t about that and you know it.”

“You said yourself that something was off with this situation. You know what? Fuck off. I’m done defending myself to you.” He slouched back in his chair, his scowl full of arrogance. “Asshole.”

Not in the mood to break up a fistfight, Caleb moved fast, placing himself between his brothers. He slammed his hand down on Brandon’s shoulder as he tried to rise. “Calm down, both of you.” He squeezed Brandon’s shoulder in warning. “Stand down. Let Alec talk.”

Brandon wisely chose to heed his command and relaxed back. “Fine.”

Caleb kept his hand on Brandon’s shoulder, just in case. “Go ahead, Alec.”

“All I’m suggesting is that we’ve been working off assumptions. Sam assumed Vincent was responsible for the break-in at her office. Why? Because the file she’d kept on him had been pulled out. Then, her address book is stolen from her apartment. Again, Sam assumes this is Vincent’s doing—probably thinking she’d be dumb enough to document Carlotta’s location in her book.”

“Under the circumstances, those are safe assumptions for Samantha to make,” Caleb defended. He didn’t like that Alec made Samantha sound as if she’d acted irrationally.

“Not what I meant.” Alec picked up a file folder and waved it. “I’ve been over everything, and there’s nothing to suggest Vincent lifted a finger to find his wife. Unlimited cash and resources and he’s worried about an address book?” Alec shook his head. “I don’t think so. A private investigator would’ve been less hassle and risk, yet there’s no indication he hired one. And now he’s dead.” Alec tossed the folder on the table, causing several of the photographs to slide out.

“Wait a second.” Amanda stood, picked up the photo and studied it. “No wonder he never looked for her,” Amanda whispered so low, Caleb almost missed it. His sense of dread increased as the color drained from her face.

“When was this picture taken?” Amanda demanded. Joe placed his hand on her waist as she slammed the photo back to the table and shoved it in Alec’s direction. “When, damn it?”

“Couple of days ago. Outside the Driskell.” Alec picked up the picture and looked at it again, as if searching for something he’d missed.

Caleb’s patience was at its end. “What’s the problem, Amanda? We knew Vincent was in Austin before tonight.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about.” She tapped the photo Alec slid back her way. “It’s her.”

Caleb frowned as he scanned the photo. “We haven’t been able to identify that woman. How’s she the problem?”

“Because, Caleb.” Amanda’s voice rose as she pointed to the woman wrapped in Vincent’s embrace. “That’s Carlotta Matteo.”

Caleb’s blood ran cold. He snatched the file and started flipping through the other pictures. “How do you know that? The woman in the picture doesn’t look anything like the photos we have of Carlotta.” To prove his point, he tossed a picture of Carlotta as a young woman onto the table. He’d admit there was a slight resemblance, but —

“That’s because she’s not supposed to be Carlotta anymore. But, I swear to you, the woman in the picture is definitely her.”

Brandon stood, pressing his fists into the table as he checked out the photos for himself. “And again, how do you know that?”

Amanda stepped away from the table, as if trying to put distance between them. “I … well … oh, to hell with it. I’m the one who helped Samantha procure a new drivers license and birth certificate for her.”

“You did
what
?” Joe and Caleb demanded together, Joe’s angry tone slightly louder than Caleb’s.

Amanda’s gaze shifted from Caleb to Joe and back. “You heard me. Samantha needed the kind of help that only I could give her.”

“I could’ve helped,” Alec snapped.

“Oh right. You guys are thick as thieves. You wouldn’t have waited five minutes to alert these two,” Amanda jerked her thumb at Caleb and Brandon, “and then all hell would’ve broken loose. Samantha didn’t want you involved. She didn’t want
me
involved. The less people that knew the better, as far as she was concerned. But, she couldn’t do it alone. In my defense, I didn’t know the whole story until you guys started poking around her client list a while back. Caleb asked me to look into Vincent. Then, Sam let his name slip later that same day.” Amanda turned to Joe. “Remember, honey? It was the day you two met.”

Joe scowled. “Can we get back to the part where you willingly put yourself at risk?”

“Why didn’t you tell us about it once you made the connection?” Caleb demanded, ready to throttle her for keeping a secret that not only put her at risk, but Samantha as well.

Amanda’s hands settled sharply on her hips. “If the men in this room don’t stop acting like I’m some hapless female, I’m going to start throwing punches.” She poked her finger into Joe’s chest. “Starting with you.”

“Nobody’s punching anyone. We’re all tired, but let’s try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum, shall we? We have more important matters to discuss than if you’re hapless or not.” Brandon said.

Amanda collapsed into her chair and glared at Brandon. “I think I liked you better when you weren’t so mouthy.”

Brandon ignored her jab. “As much as it pains me to admit right now, Alec’s right. If Vincent had Carlotta, he’d have no reason to go after Sam.”

Caleb nodded, his mind whirling. “Where is Carlotta now?”

“We need to tell Samantha about this.”

“No.”

“Caleb —”

“I said no, Alec. We aren’t telling Samantha anything.”

At least not until they knew for sure what it meant. There was no reason to disturb her. At this point, she couldn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know. She’d been exhausted and he wasn’t about to interrupt her sleep. Once she woke, she’d be refreshed, her mind clear and better able to handle the idea that Carlotta had been back in the clutches of her husband.

Jesus fuck, he didn’t want to be the one to break that news. Helping Carlotta had meant so much to her; she’d risked her own skin to do it. And for what? The bastard had Carlotta back anyway. He’d had her back. He’d had —

“You’re making a mistake,” Brandon warned.

His train of thought interrupted, Caleb took a deep breath. When it came to Samantha, it seemed everyone thought they knew better than him. Maybe they did, but that didn’t change the way he felt. Samantha was his responsibility.

She was his, period. It was time his family got on board with the idea.

“Then, I’ll deal with the consequences.” He kept his voice firm, commanding. “We aren’t telling her anything.”

Chapter 18

“W
e aren’t telling Samantha anything.”

Samantha froze.

“You’re making a mistake.”

“Then, I’ll deal with the consequences. We aren’t telling her anything.”

She pressed her hand against the wall, her mind spinning until she was dizzy. What weren’t they going to tell her? And why?

Samantha took several steps backward before she turned and went back to Alec’s room. Try as she might, she’d been unable to sleep without Caleb’s heat to warm her. Looks like she’d have a lot of sleepless nights ahead.

She paced the floor, anger and adrenaline filling her system until she shook.

That son of a bitch. That arrogant, controlling, son of a bitch.

Her lungs seized. Bending forward, Samantha placed her palms on her knees and tried counting to ten—a trick she’d learned as a child. She focused on drawing air into her chest. In through the nose, out through the mouth. One, in. Two, out. Three, in. Four, out. Tears blurred her vision, which pissed her off even more, and then she lost count.

How dare he? After everything they’d been through? After everything she’d shared with him? Jesus Christ, he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. He’d used his body to convince her that he’d trust her, trust in what they’d started between them. He’d said he’d loved her and she’d wanted him badly enough to believe he’d actually treat her like an equal.

Served her right.

He was a Marine, a man used to having his orders followed. A man who’d do whatever it took to get his way.

He’d keep secrets. Manipulate her. Lie.

Oh god.

She couldn’t stay here. No one in this house would go against Caleb. Not when he went all I’m-the-head-of-this-family-and-I’m-in-charge on them. And what she’d overheard had definitely been his “don’t fuck with me” voice. Lord knew, Samantha had years of experience with that tone.

Her heart broke into a thousand pieces as her gaze searched the room in desperation. Searched for something, anything to stop the tears she knew were coming. She couldn’t fall apart. Not here and not when Caleb could walk in at any moment to find her a weeping mess.

She should go. Vincent was dead. She was safe. She could sneak out of the house without being seen, but how would she get anywhere? Her car was still at the Martin Tactical compound.

There. Alec’s keys were like a beacon through the pain that filled her chest. She snatched them off the dresser and made her way from the room.

Hushed voices drifted from the office as Samantha slipped around through the kitchen and out the door to the garage. Relief washed over her when she found the garage door already open and Alec’s truck parked in the driveway. With any luck, they wouldn’t hear her as she committed grand theft auto against one of her best friends.

Tears seeped from her lids as she wound through the neighborhood and headed toward the highway. She didn’t know where she was going, but she was painfully aware of her limited options.

Her stuff was at Caleb’s, but she certainly wasn’t going there. Oh no. It was bad enough she’d given her heart to the bastard. She’d not give him the satisfaction of chewing her ass for leaving Alec’s without telling him. On that note, they’d probably look for her at her apartment.

She wasn’t ready to be found. She needed to get her head clear. Any fanciful ideas she might have had about a lasting relationship with Caleb had been shattered with his need to keep things from her.

Carlotta.

Samantha had kept her own secrets, hadn’t she? Caleb had tried to get information from her about Carlotta. She hadn’t shared with him, but the situation wasn’t the same.

Or was it?

Samantha headed west on the highway. It seemed silly, with Vincent dead and all, but she suddenly needed to know that Carlotta was okay. Or, Darcy as she was now called.

Darcy Emerson.

Lock, stock, and barrel, Samantha and Amanda had created Darcy Emerson from the ground up—family, childhood illnesses, doctor and immunization records, college transcripts, job history. Darcy Emerson had even voted in the last three elections. Nothing had been left to chance.

Samantha had insisted on a location far away, Oregon being her first choice. She’d wanted to relocate her in Seattle—a good place for a person to start over, blend in, hide. Its eclectic mix of people and tourists would provide an atmosphere for Carlotta to finally figure out who she wanted to be.

Carlotta had other ideas and had been insistent as well. She’d wanted to stay in Texas, close to Samantha in the event something went wrong. She was alone in the world and Samantha hadn’t been able to argue with the broken woman. At the time, keeping her in Texas seemed a small concession to make in order to give Carlotta some peace. She hoped she hadn’t made a mistake. With her recent track record, she was starting to question her ability to do anything right.

Caleb had said it himself. She was safe. It was over.

They
were over. That had been their deal.

The tears she’d been trying to fight finally broke through. She let them flow, hoping that somehow they’d cleanse her shattered soul.

* * *

“You’re going to be sorry,” Brandon informed him.

Caleb ground
his teeth together, forcing back the urge to yell at the top of his lungs.

“Samantha hasn’t slept well for days.” Totally his fault, but that wasn’t the point. “She needs to rest. I won’t allow anyone to disturb her, especially not with information she can’t do anything but worry about. Telling her now or telling her an hour from now doesn’t change a thing. Vincent is dead, we can’t change that. Carlotta was with him before he died, we can’t change that either. Give me a legitimate reason to wake her, or shut the hell up.”

Brandon lifted his palms in defeat and sank back into his chair.

Caleb ran a hand through his hair and turned back to Alec. “You got something to add, or can we get back to the real issue?”

Alec grinned. “I’d have thought gettin’ laid would’ve made you a little nicer.” Then he turned to Joe and pulled a face. “Told you.”

Joe sank into the chair next to Amanda and the two shared a knowing look. “Old news.”

Caleb stared around the room at his family. So they knew that he and Samantha were together. They all loved her. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be a big deal, but their approval still meant a great deal to him. “Perfect. Since you seem to know my business, you can stop arguing with me about it.”

His phone rang in his pocket, interrupting any further discussion about his love life. Caleb recognized the number and put it on speaker so everyone could hear.

“Hey, Charlie. What’s up?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Charlie’s voice held a suspicious tone.

Caleb arched a brow and glanced around. Joe returned his
what now
expression.

“Did you find something?” Caleb asked.

“I just got the report on the fingerprints from those casings we found.”

“And?”

“What’ve you gotten into?”

Caleb was fast running out of patience. “Charlie,” he barked. “Who do they belong to?”

“Well now. That’s the thing,” Charlie drawled. “The prints we pulled belong to a dead man.”

Caleb stared at the phone, his internal warning bells screaming bloody murder while his brain tried to get past the whole
what the fuck
factor. “Who?” he demanded again.

Charlie cleared his throat. “Fella named Mark Shaw.”

Joe’s spine straightened and locked gazes with him as Charlie continued. “I did some checking. Not a lot of background information. Parents are deceased. One sibling, a sister, whose last known address is now a vacant lot in upstate New York. Here’s the kicker. He’s listed as being killed in action in Afghanistan more than a decade ago.”

Columbia, actually.

“Thanks, Charlie. Sit tight. We’ll get back to you.”

Caleb disconnected the call before Charlie bombarded him with questions he couldn’t answer.

It couldn’t be true. Someone was fucking with him.

Mark Shaw.

Young, single, and cocky, Mark had been the wild card on his team. Charlie’d been right. Mark had no family to speak of and rarely spoke to his sister, if Caleb remembered correctly. Good kid, but he struggled to keep his emotions in check. One minute he’d be calm and in control. The next minute … not so much. He’d been unpredictable. Not a valued quality in the field and certainly not one Caleb had wanted for his team. In fact, Caleb had requested Mark be reassigned and not accompany them to Columbia.

He’d been overruled and it’d been Mark’s last mission. He’d died out there. His whole fucking team had died out there because of Mark’s impatience. Caleb had seen it with his own eyes.

He should’ve fought harder to keep Mark grounded. He should’ve insisted.

“What was that about?” Brandon asked.

Pulling himself from the past, Caleb looked at Joe. “Is it possible?”

Joe had saved Caleb’s life that day, despite the fact Caleb had taken a slice out of Joe’s side in the process. Joe hadn’t been a part of Caleb’s mission, so his unexpected arrival—guns blazing—didn’t help the confusion about whether he was friend or foe. With gunshot wounds to his leg and shoulder, Caleb had opted on the side of keeping himself alive.

Joe had pulled him to safety, and that was where his memory got a little sketchy. He’d read Joe’s report. He’d been debriefed by Derrick Sloan, the man who controlled the underground operation that’d commissioned the op. The Agency didn’t answer to any one government and its agents came from all walks of life, from all over the world. And Derrick Sloan only chose the fearless, the best of the best. Men who shared a common goal—to rid the world of the evil that plagued it.

Another reason Caleb hadn’t understood why Derrick had demanded he suck it up and find a place for Mark on his team. Fearless, maybe, but Mark hadn’t been the best at anything. Unless it was getting into trouble. The kid had had a wealth of knowledge in that department.

This couldn’t be right. Other than the cartel members who’d hightailed it for parts unknown, Caleb and Joe had been the only ones to come out of the jungle that day. Or, so he’d been told.

“Up until about a minute ago, I’d have said no,” Joe said.

Caleb pressed his knuckles into the table, his whole body tensed with frustration. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Joe’s face hardened. “A whole hell of a lot, actually, but I stand by my report. There was no evidence to indicate survivors.”

“Anyone wanna share with the rest of the class?” Brandon asked.

Not really, no.

Caleb let his gaze linger on Joe a moment more, a warning of sorts that they weren’t finished that was met with equal challenge.

“There’s not a lot I can tell you.” Caleb sifted through the details, knowing what he’d just said was an understatement. According to the contract he’d signed, he couldn’t tell them anything.

Yeah, well, Derrick Sloan could fuck his contract. He’d looked Caleb in the eye and told him the others were dead. Mark Shaw’s fingerprints on those casings voided any responsibility Caleb had to Sloan or his precious Agency.

His responsibility now was to his family, which included Samantha.

Was the shooting a coincidence? The Five Crowns was Caleb’s hang-out of choice. Granted, he wasn’t supposed to have been there that night, but he couldn’t overlook the possibility. The thought that Samantha had been caught in something meant for him chilled his blood. He wanted to give her pleasure and happiness. Not blood and pain.

It was time to have a little chat with Sloan, but first … he slid back into his chair.

“Shaw was part of a recon team I led in Columbia. He was a hothead, didn’t have the patience for recon work. He was green, wanted the action.”

Brandon looked confused. “Why didn’t you have him removed?”

Caleb toyed with a paperclip, the act of unbending the thin metal oddly soothing. “I tried, but was denied. Unfortunately, my instincts were right. We’d been there several weeks and Mark got antsy. I’d threatened to send him home if he couldn’t handle it, reminded him there were other lives at stake, not just his or ours. Needless to say, that didn’t go over well. Mark got angry. More so than I’d ever seen in him before. I ordered him to stay in camp the next two days.”

He hadn’t wanted to give him the chance to compromise their position in a temper. As it was, he should’ve handcuffed him to a fucking tree. Mark ignored his order and had followed on the second day—the day that had been etched in Caleb’s nightmares since.

“Did he stay?” Amanda asked softly.

“The first day.” He’d let them draw their own conclusions. “Mark fucked up, but he was my responsibility. The failure of the mission, the lives lost … the blame rests on my shoulders.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Joe informed him with a resigned sigh. “It was suspected that Mark was paid to give away your location.”

Caleb’s jaw tightened. “And you know this how?”

Joe cursed. “We all had a job to do out there, Caleb. You did yours. The intel you’d collected was instrumental to the mission. If you want to lay blame, lay it where it belongs. On the man suspected of betraying his team and his country.”

“Why wasn’t I told about this?” His head pounded as he absorbed the information.

Joe shrugged. “You know as well as I do that our…” He glanced around the room before continuing. “That our
employer
has an agenda that only he knows. Maybe he thought it didn’t matter, at that point. Maybe he thought, since you were badly injured, that you wouldn’t survive so there was no need to bother you with it. Maybe he thought it was a partly cloudy Tuesday and he didn’t feel like sharing. Who the hell knows?”

“Fucking great. That explains everything,” Caleb said coldly. “Except how Mark Shaw rose from the grave and why he was taking shots at us the other night.”

“The fire didn’t leave much,” Joe told him. “But, I know remains and identification were found for each member of your team. How Mark survived is beyond me.”

Amanda raised a tentative hand. “I still don’t see how this Mark person is connected to Samantha.”