When I Find You: A Trust No One Novel (12 page)

In the soft glow of a streetlamp, her smile erased some of the worry from her face.

They walked the two blocks to the bar in silence. Two deserted cars sat in the parking lot. Walker pulled a homemade slim-jim from his backpack and approached the closest car, a beat-up Chevy Monte Carlo at least twenty years old. He inserted the long metal tool between the glass and the rubber seals, felt gently for the rods connected to the locking mechanism, and pulled upward. The door lock came up as well.

“Quick, get in.” He opened the door. Darcy crawled across the console to the passenger side and he got behind the wheel. From his pocket, he took a ring with a dozen thin pieces of metal the size and shape of keys. He slid one into the ignition and jiggled it around. Nothing happened. He tried the next one, then the next. Finally, on the fourth try, the key turned over and the car started. He grinned at Darcy. “Put your seat belt on.”

“What was that? I thought you’d hotwire the car.”

“It’s called a jiggle set. You put the key in and . . .”

“Jiggle it around.”

He heard the smile in her voice. “You’re learning. I’ll teach you to hotwire a car sometime, too, if you want. You never know what skills you may need someday.” He winked at her as he pulled the car carefully out of the parking lot, leaving the headlights off until they were a block away.

“Just out of curiosity, is there anything you don’t have in that backpack?”

“Yes—fuel, but luckily our drunk kept a pretty full tank. How far is it to Gold Beach?”

“About two hundred and fifty miles.”

“Good. We’ll stop for gas and something to eat once we put this place behind us. You’ll have plenty of time to get some rest.”

“Who can sleep after stealing a car? I can drive if you’re sleepy.”

“You’d drive a stolen car so I could sleep?”

Darcy laughed and shrugged. “You’ve been a bad influence on me—Mr. Walker.”

“Not again,” he groaned. “I’ll take the first shift.”

A
BAD SENSE
of déjà vu invaded Darcy’s sleep as the car bumped and rattled around her. Jerking to attention, she fingered the door handle, her heart in her throat. She looked toward the driver, half-expecting to see Grant smirking.

“It’s okay. I’m just turning off the highway so we can get a bite to eat. Are you hungry?” Walker must have recognized the panic in her eyes. He reached for her arm as though he expected her to open her door and jump from the car.

Her racing heart slowed as soon as she heard his voice. “Is it a good idea to stop in such a public place with a stolen car?”

“Cops will spot it just as quickly on the highway as they will here. Besides, it’s pretty early. I doubt our drunk is up yet.”

The sun peeked over the mountains to the east. The sky was a brilliant blue. The fog had either burned off or they’d driven out of it, and the coastline below them wound away into the distance. It was a beautiful day, and Darcy was happy to be alive—literally. The phrase had a whole new meaning for her today. She turned a radiant smile on Walker.

“Yes, I’m hungry and I need coffee.”

One of his brows arched upward. “What’s got you so happy?”

“I’m pretty much always happy. You just caught me on a bad day.”

“That’s the understatement of the century.” His amusement cracked into a smile.

Darcy stepped from the car and fell in beside him as he came around the trunk. They walked into the restaurant and slid into the first empty booth. The smell of coffee practically had her salivating. The waitress took their order and was back a few minutes later with their food.

“Where are you from?” Darcy studied him as she took a bite of bacon.

“Haven’t stayed in one place long enough to be
from
anywhere.”

She frowned and concentrated on her plate. He didn’t want her to know. Maybe he didn’t waste time telling personal things about himself to people he’d never see again. She was just a job to him, after all, and he’d be done with her in a couple of days. Why was it so important she know about him anyway?

She liked him, that was why. He didn’t laugh when she threw herself at him. He had such a great smile, and she felt safer with him than she’d ever felt with anyone. It was only a few hours ago they’d met, yet she couldn’t imagine being without him now. She’d probably chase him away if she didn’t lay off the personal questions.

When she stopped pushing her food around her plate and looked up, he watched her curiously. “You went kind of quiet on me. Everything okay?”

“I’m sorry for prying. You have enough to do trying to save my neck without having to tell me your life story too. I realize this is your job . . . not a game of Twenty Questions.” She dropped her gaze to her plate again.

“You’re not prying. I’m the one who should apologize for being short with you. You can ask me anything you want.” He smiled when she looked at him skeptically.

“I’m from Georgia, originally, but I live just outside a small town in northern Montana. It’s beautiful there and quiet. The only explosions are ones I make.” He winked at her when she laughed. “I haven’t been home for a while. I was enjoying a little vacation in Long Beach when I got the call about you.”

“Oh great. I took you away from your vacation?”

“Vacationing alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. What else do you want to know?”

“How come I don’t hear any southern accent if you’re from Georgia?”

“I left a long time ago, and I worked really hard to shed that southern boy routine.” The last part dissolved into a southern drawl that made her laugh again.

“Not as effectively as you hoped, I see. Do you still have family there?”

“Unless you have a very loose definition of family, I don’t really have anyone that qualifies. My mother died when I was fifteen. I left home at sixteen, and it was about a year before my father realized I was gone. You might say there’s no love lost. There are people I consider family, but there’s no blood relation.”

“Sometimes those people make the best family. Eddy and Nick became my family.” Immediately, sorrow accompanied unshed tears that stung behind her eyelids. She blinked, glanced at Walker, and saw his concern. It wasn’t fair to lose it in front of him. He’d already put up with enough of her tears. Sitting up straighter, she forced a smile. She would grieve for the loss of her adopted family on her own time.

She threw him a glance from beneath her lashes. “I’d pick you to be my family . . . if I knew your first name.”

“You didn’t just say that.” Walker shook his head. “You have no shame, and after I bared my soul to you too.”

“Why won’t you tell me? Do you hate it? Is it an odd-sounding name? I promise I won’t laugh.” She leaned toward him across the table. “Just give me the initials. I bet I could guess.”

Walker clammed up and refused to say another word on the subject.

Finished with their breakfast, he ordered two coffees to go, paid the tab, and they left. He tossed her the keys as they approached the car.

“It’s time for you to become an accomplice. I need a nap.”

Darcy slid behind the wheel, adjusted the seat several positions closer, and headed south on Highway 101. Walker laid his seat back and within a few miles he was sound asleep. Peace stole over his features and took a few years off his age. The crazy urge to touch his arm or stroke his cheek waged a silent war within her. Finally, she set the cruise control at 62 and ate up the miles. When a road sign told her she had twenty-eight miles to go, she pulled off into a state park.

“Are we there yet?” Walker sat up as the car rolled to a stop.

“How long have you been awake?”

“A few miles. Ready for a break?”

“Yeah, I need to stretch my legs.”

“Good idea.” He brought his seat back up and opened his door. She met him at the front of the car. A strong wind blew, but the sun made up for it, shining brightly and lending its warmth. Out over the ocean the fog bank rolled toward shore.

They followed one of the trails down to the beach and walked beside the surf. Darcy kicked her shoes off and dug her toes into the warm sand, then ran into the surf just for the pure joy of running back. It seemed somehow callous to be happy after everything that had happened, but she was, and she was afraid the reason for her happiness was the dark-haired man who linked arms with her and smiled into her soul. If she closed her eyes and imagined, she could almost forget Walker had been sent to protect her. She might be inexperienced with the opposite sex, but she recognized the lust that darkened his eyes at times, and it excited her. What would it take to make a man like Walker fall in love with her? When she opened her eyes again, make-believe blended into reality. His laughing gray eyes and lighthearted smile, the dazzling sunlight and the roaring surf, all combined to make her giddy and impetuous. Halfway up the trail to the car, Darcy stopped, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him full on the lips.

For a heartbeat, he pulled back in surprise. Then his eyes darkened, he grabbed her around the waist, and jerked her against his hard length. The warmth of his lips meeting hers fanned a flame in her soul she hadn’t known was there. Almost immediately, the gentle kiss turned hungry and then demanding as his tongue plunged into her mouth and teased hers. In that moment, he could have asked anything. She was lost in a seductive storm of his making.

Suddenly, he grabbed her arms and set her away from him, a look of disgust on his face.

“Darcy, trust me, you don’t want to go there.” His voice was gruff and angry.

So drunk on his taste and smell and the feel of his arms around her, it was a moment before she understood what was happening. When she did, she dropped her gaze, too embarrassed to look at him . . . too humiliated to stand in front of him and stare at the ground. Without a word, she turned and trudged up the path to the car.

The rest of the drive was spent looking out the passenger window, seeing nothing but his angry expression. He didn’t speak either. In the space of ten seconds she’d ruined their day and the friendship she’d thought had begun to grow between them. God, what an idiot she was. If he’d thought her immature before, she’d just proved him right. He’d be glad to see the last of her now.

In the town of Gold Beach, they turned east and drove up a winding dirt road to the top of a hill. A sprawling, contemporary-style home was built among the trees, brush, and rocks. Walker seemed to know where to look for the key, retrieved it, and opened the front door. With his backpack over his shoulder, he preceded her inside and turned off the security alarm.

The house was just as nice on the inside, decorated in natural wood with a rustic style. Walker strode toward the back of the house while Darcy stepped into the living room to the left of the entrance. Two high-backed chairs and an overstuffed couch faced large picture windows, each with a different view of the ocean in panoramic splendor. Mesmerized by the beauty of the ocean, she walked slowly across the room until she stood before the windows.

“Darcy Maddox? I was beginning to think you weren’t coming after all.”

She gasped and pivoted to face the stranger who rose from one of the high-backed chairs she’d passed without looking on her way to the windows. A brown-haired man, late thirties, whose suit jacket seemed too big on his lean frame, watched her with calculating blue eyes. She stopped breathing as her gaze followed his hand when he reached inside his jacket. From the corner of her eyes, Walker glided quickly toward her, his gun drawn. He motioned her back, and she put as much distance between her and the stranger as she could before the wall stopped her retreat.

“Don’t move, or you’re a dead man,” Walker growled.

The man didn’t move, except to bring his hands slowly up.

“Turn around.”

“Who are you?” The man’s gaze darted from Walker to Darcy and back again.

“You first.”

“Deputy U.S. Marshal Brian Cooper. I’m here to take charge of Ms. Maddox.”

“Drop your gun on the floor and kick it over here. Then show your creds.”

Deputy Cooper did exactly as he was told and, when he held up his badge, Walker swore and lowered his gun. “How the hell did you get in here?”

“Found the key out front. The alarm was a little more difficult, but I’m not without certain talents . . . same as you. My supervisor said you’d be along, so I thought I’d just wait.” He dropped his badge back in his inside coat pocket.

Darcy’s wobbly legs gave out and she slid down the wall to the floor.

Walker picked up the deputy’s gun, slid the clip out, and set both pieces on the coffee table. “You almost died today. They’re not making deputy U.S. marshals very smart these days, are they?” A look passed between them that Darcy couldn’t identify, but Cooper smirked as Walker turned toward her.

His dark, impenetrable eyes softened and filled with concern as soon as they met hers. “It’s okay. He’s on our side.” He walked toward her, knelt down in front of her, and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. Then he leaned close. “Put your game face on.”

She took the hand he offered and let him help her up. The sting of his rejection still sharp in her mind, she pulled her hand free, straightened her spine, smoothed her features into the semblance of a smile, and walked to the center of the room. She shook the stranger’s hand. “What now, Deputy Cooper?”

Chapter Six

W
ALKER BUSIED HIMSELF
making coffee while he kept a watchful eye on Darcy and Cooper as the deputy interviewed her at the dining room table a few feet away. Deputy Cooper had gotten the basic questions out of the way. What was her relationship with Johnny Fontana? How long had she been in his employ? Was she aware of his criminal activity? Standard questions and ones any defense attorney with any credibility would ask the witness whose testimony could land his client in prison.

Walker knew the drill and knew the questions would get more intense . . . and more personal. He observed Darcy carefully for signs of fatigue or anxiety. The last two days had been nonstop stress for her. So far, she’d held up amazingly well, but he wouldn’t allow Cooper to do anything that would push her over the edge. He poured three cups of coffee, delivered two to the table, and drank his leaning back against the kitchen counter.