Twisted Shadows (37 page)

“Where's your car?” Nathan asked.

“A half mile from here.”

“We'll drive you there.”

Maddox shook his head. “You go ahead. There's a restaurant five miles east of here. Saw it coming in. It should be full with the late dinner crowd. I'll meet you there.”

He left with the dog and disappeared into the woods.

Nathan packed their few belongings, then regarded her compassionately.

“I'm all right. Really I am,” she said. She wasn't, but she wasn't going to tell him. Her thigh hurt unbearably. She felt half-drugged from the pain pill and lack of sleep.

Once in the car, she turned to him. “What do you think?”

“I don't know what to think,” he said. “I just know when we get about an hour from here, I'm going to check in with Gray. See what he can find out about Jack Maddox and a Simon who has a private plane near Durango.”

“You're not sure that's their real names?”

“I don't know, but I'll find out soon enough.”

She leaned against the door so she could face him. His face always gave her confidence.

He started the car, then reached out and took her hand. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm the one who's sorry. I might be responsible for getting you fired.”

“It's time for me to leave the Bureau,” he said. “I was there for all the wrong reasons.”

“The Merrittas, you mean?”

“Yes. I grew up reliving that moment every day. I still have flashbacks, but they're less frequent now. I let it consume my life. That doesn't make for a good cop.”

“What will you do?”

“I don't know,” he said. “Never thought about it. I'll find something.”

He turned his attention to the road ahead as she leaned her head back against the seat in thoughtful silence.

Thirty minutes later, they saw a red pickup truck pull into the restaurant parking lot. Sam saw Jack Maddox and Jock, who dominated the passenger seat. Maddox parked next to him. “There's a motel in Fort Collins, the Westerner—”

Sam nodded. “I know it.”

“I'll follow you, make sure no one else is,” Maddox said. “We'll stay there tonight and drive through tomorrow.”

“Through to where?”

“Chicago,” Maddox said. “That's where it all started.”

He backed up into a parking slot without any more explanation.

Sam watched Nate take one sweeping glance around the parking area, then he drove out of the lot onto the road and turned east.

His expression gave away very little. She wondered whether he was as disconcerted as she was. Maddox had said she could call her mother, but had left before giving the number.

She wanted to trust Maddox, just as she'd wanted to trust Nathan when she first met him.

Too many things kept getting in the way. Why hadn't he paused long enough to let her call her mother? Was the motel in Fort Collins a trap?

“Tell me about the motel,” Nathan said, as if he'd just read her mind.

“It's like a lot of motels,” she said. “They have meeting rooms, and I was at a conference there. Nice rooms. Nothing fancy but comfortable. Heated pool.”

“A lot of lighting?”

“As far as I remember.”

“Large lobby?”

“Medium size. Why?”

“A large lobby usually means more people,” he said. “Why do you think he would pick that place?”

“Maybe for that reason,” she said, feeling better. “Surely if he meant to set some kind of trap, he would have picked a motel with one person at the desk and rooms swathed in shadows.”

“Maybe,” he said cautiously.

“He has a dog,” she said hopefully. She'd always believed anyone who liked dogs was, at heart, a good person.

“Yes,” he said noncommittally.

She heard the skepticism in his voice, and she knew she must sound naive. But she was an optimist at heart, and she was seeking any sign of hope. It was very dark now as he wound around curves. She wished she didn't like looking at him so much, at the way he radiated competency.

She glanced behind them. She didn't see headlights.

“He's keeping a distance,” Nathan said. “He knows where we're going.”

“‘Where it all started.'” She repeated Maddox's words. “Why didn't it start in Boston?”

“Maybe because Chicago is where your mother met David Carroll, or whoever he is. Maybe that's where she stashed whatever it is that seems to be scaring people so much.”

“Mostly me,” she said.

He chuckled. “I like a lady with a sense of humor.”

“It's that or scream.”

Suddenly he swerved onto a dirt road, one shielded by overhanging trees. The car bounced as they moved deeper into the trees, and she winced, swallowing a cry.

He turned out the lights.

They both waited.

A car passed the road, then another. Still he didn't start the car.

“Maybe he has one of those tracing devices,” Sam said.

“He might,” Nathan said, and Sam knew he'd already thought about that.

“Is there a way of finding one?”

“Oh, yes, with a lot of time and even more light. We'll find out soon enough,” he said.

“You have a plan,” she said.

“I always have a plan. They don't always work.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“I want to arrive well after he does. I want to check automobiles in the parking lot. I want to check security. I also want to give Gray time to check him out.”

“Why Gray?”

“He can get to computers with nationwide databases. Police records. Drivers' licenses. I can't,” he said. “Not now.”

“I still don't know if my mother is safe.…”

“No,” he said. “But I don't want anyone to use you to get to her, either.”

She agreed. She was shaken by the fact that Maddox had not given her a number. It had made her a doubter as well. She watched Nate take out his cell phone. Turn it on. Obviously look at the messages.

He pushed some numbers. She couldn't help but hear his side of the conversation.

“Hi, buddy. You called?”

He frowned as he heard the answer. “I expected as much. And you?”

She heard real distress in his voice. “Damn, I'm sorry, Gray.”

A silence on his side, then, “Just fishing, friend. I'll be damned if I come back until then. Let them stew. But you stay out of it, hear. It's just Barker. I haven't done anything wrong, and it'll be straightened out when I get back. Just don't eat too many hot dogs at the ball game.”

He hung up. “I have to find a public telephone.”

“There's a small town not far away.”

“How far?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe.”

“Then we'll wait here for a few more minutes.”

She looked at him curiously.

“Gray's phone might be tapped and they could possibly trace my cell phone if I'd stayed on any longer.”

“And the hot dogs?”

“A bar where we sometimes watch ball games. He'll go there.”

“Why did he call you?”

“I'm being suspended. I haven't been keeping in touch. And someone told them I'm in Steamboat Springs in the company of someone I've been told to avoid. There's a hearing next week.”

“Who told them?”

“Very good question. I didn't speak to anyone but you and the Faulkners. Somehow I don't think they would call the Boston office.”

“You have to go back.”

“Hell I do. I'm sticking to my fish story.”

“They're going to find out you're with me.”

“By then you and your mother will be safe,” he said. “Hopefully, we'll have some bad guys. There's no better argument than success.”

She felt lost in that dank swamp again. “What if my brother's involved?”

“Then it's better that you know,” he said.

“Easy for you to say.”

“Not any longer, Sam. I hope like hell—for your sake—that he has nothing to do with this.”

“What do
you
think?”

“I saw him throw his body in front of yours at his house, Samantha. I saw the way he looked at you when you were bleeding. No, I don't think he's been involved in anything that has happened to you.”

He had narrowed his scope to that, and she recognized it. She knew he had still not completely absolved her brother in his mind.

She looked longingly at the phone. “Can I try my mother's cell phone?”

“I'd rather you didn't. They will have a fix on this number and might be able to pick up her location. You can call on the public phone.”

“The FBI is monitoring your phone?”

“Count on it. There were ten messages from my superior on the phone. Gray's been reassigned to review old cases. He wasn't suspended, but there's no doubt his career will suffer because of me.”

“Us,” she corrected.

“Us,” he agreed with a trace of a smile. “But suspension makes it hard to ask for help from any local law. It also means my password won't get me into files any longer.”

“But how could they suspend you when you're on vacation?”

“Because I was told quite clearly to drop the Merritta case and they think I'm continuing to work it.”

“Continuing to work it?” She didn't like the inference but she was tired of unsaid suspicions. She planned to attack every doubt head-on, from now on.

“I didn't put that very well,” he said. “In their eyes, I've disobeyed a direct order. Maybe Barker can't make it stand, but he'll give it one hell of a good try.”

“Barker?”

“My boss.” His lips thinned, and she knew from his voice and expression that he held his superior in contempt.

She understood now why he pursued the Merrittas. If she had seen her mother gunned down when she was a child, she knew she too would want justice.

The question was: How much was justice, and how much concern for her and her mother? Her mother, after all, apparently knew something that could have hurt the Merrittas years ago. Even before his mother was killed.

If she had gone to federal authorities then, perhaps the Merrittas would have been in jail. Perhaps his mother wouldn't have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She sighed. Years ago, their parents made decisions that inevitably affected both of them.

He reached out his hand, placed it over hers on the seat between them. “I want you to believe that the only person I really care about now is you. I want you safe. I want you to have the life you used to have.”

“I'll never have that again,” she replied. “I'll never look at my mother without knowing what I lost. What you lost. I'll love her. I'll always love her. But I don't know whether I will ever have the same trust.”

“I imagine she did what she felt she had to do at the time. Remember how young she was and that she had two children to think about. I imagine she was afraid to do anything with Nick in Paul's hands,” he said gently. “You know things now she didn't know. Hindsight isn't fair.”

“But your mother might still be alive if she had gone to the FBI.”

“And your mother might be dead,” he finished. “We can't change history. We can only try to change the future.”

His hand squeezed hers, and she knew he meant what he was saying. He was willing—and apparently able—to throw off the past. But could he ever really escape the memories?

She angled around and leaned against him, ignoring the sudden pain in her leg. She had been attracted to him from the first moment she saw him in the airport. She'd carried that image with her, and the attraction had intensified when he'd helped her carry Nick to safety.

Then the kiss.

The kiss that had warmed her down to her toes, and still did every time she thought about it.

He'd said he wasn't good at his job, that he'd let too much happen to her. But he had always been there. He'd helped her at the airport, then when the car had been run off the road. He'd rescued her yet again at the hospital, followed her to Colorado.

So many times.

“Thank you,” she said, looking up at the face that so appealed to her.

“Ah, pretty lady. There's nothing to thank me for. We're not done yet and I'm not sure whether I'm leading you into even greater trouble.”

“You don't trust Jack Maddox, do you?”

He hesitated, and she knew he was debating what to tell her.

“I want the truth, Nathan.”

“I told you there was a contract for a grab and snatch.”

She waited for him to continue.

“Whoever commissioned this contract wanted you and your mother alive and, I suspect, together. The better to intimidate her.”

She nodded her understanding.

“I don't think that's what your assailant in Steamboat Springs had in mind. I think he meant to kill you.”

The implication hung in the air. She didn't want to believe it.

“You mean two different groups …?”

He nodded, his mouth grim. “With two different agendas.”

“Why?”

“I can guess,” he said. “If your mother never got a divorce, she will probably have a legal right to a significant portion of Paul Merritta's estate. The fact that she was declared dead wouldn't matter if someone else was responsible for the fraud. At the very least, she could tie the estate up in probate for years, which would leave it vulnerable to scrutiny. There are family members who wouldn't like to see that happen. One of them may well want you two to disappear.”

She tried a smile and knew she was failing miserably. “Someone in the Merritta family wants me dead so I won't take any of their money, and someone outside wants to kidnap me to get whatever information or evidence my mother might have. Is that it?”

“It might be.”

“Wonderful,” she said. “And you think Jack Maddox is with which faction?”