When I Find You: A Trust No One Novel (30 page)

Joe stood near the front of the aircraft, his expression an unreadable mask. Walker had no doubt Joe was just as angry and concerned as he was, but Joe was able to compartmentalize those feelings and keep a level head. The difference between them—Joe wasn’t in love with Darcy.

“Son of a bitch,” Walker roared again.

The girl, Emma, stared at him wide-eyed. Joe said something to Cara, and she put her arm around the girl’s shoulders to lead her and her baby toward the rock embankment behind them.

Walker sighed, ran a hand over his face, and stared out at the ocean. At the edge of the water, Johnny Fontana stood, arms crossed, also staring at the horizon. He couldn’t fault Johnny. The man had met them where and when he said he would, agreed to be the bait for their trap, and was prepared to die if that’s what it took. Couldn’t ask much more of a man than that—which made their failure all the worse.

He’d stationed Johnny farther down the trail so the scene would look right in case Walker couldn’t locate Darcy before she got that far. Johnny was never in any danger, even though this whole damn thing was his fault. Why couldn’t Cooper have run into him in his flight, instead of Darcy?

She was gone before Walker got to the place he’d hidden her, the only clue to her disappearance a swatch of burgundy fabric ripped from her shirt, held to a tree by Cooper’s knife, still stained with Joe’s blood. Walker tried to follow his trail, but again Cooper had disappeared without a trace.

Walker’s gut tightened when he thought of Darcy at the mercy of Cooper, now wounded and desperate. Would he kill her? The burgundy swatch meant he wanted Walker to know he had her. So he could make a deal? Or so his revenge would be complete? The bile rose in Walker’s throat and he cursed again. Then he frowned and shook his head.

He hadn’t sworn like this since he met Darcy. She made him want to be a better man—someone she could be proud of—but cleaning up his language couldn’t make up for the rest of his sins. He’d recognized the look on her face when she first saw him in the forest, dressed in battle gear and armed for his own private war. For a few seconds, she’d been afraid of him. It hurt, but it was just as well she knew who he really was, because he didn’t know how to be anything different.

Joe came up beside him and stood, silently staring at the surf. Walker glanced at him and took in the bloodstain that spread from his shoulder down the front and back of his shirt.

“Shit, Joe. Take off your shirt. Let’s have a look at that.” Walker turned toward the helicopter to retrieve his backpack. The bleeding had nearly stopped, until Joe ripped the frayed edges of his shirt from the wound. With expertise born of necessity, Walker cleaned the gash and applied a dressing, feeling his friend’s gaze on him as he worked.

“I’m sorry, Walker. I should have seen that coming.”

Walker raised an eyebrow and regarded him silently as he finished with the bandage. “After everything we’ve been through together, you know better. If you’d slept with my sister, maybe I’d expect an apology.”

Joe grinned for a moment before he turned serious again. “He still wants Johnny. He’s got a bargaining chip now. He’ll call.”

“This one needs stitches. Can you drop me somewhere near civilization on your way to the hospital? It probably wouldn’t hurt if Emma got checked out either.” Walker repacked his bag, glancing toward the girl with Cara. Even as scared as Darcy had been, her first concern was for Emma and the baby.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy. What do you have in mind?”

“I’m not waiting around for him to call. I’m going to call him and make a deal.” Walker nodded his head toward Johnny. “What do you think our friend over there will do when he finds out I’m throwing him to the wolves?”

“The feds won’t be happy if something happens to their witness.”

“I’m probably already on their shit list, especially if Reggie Allen dies.”

“Reggie Allen tried to kill you. It was self-defense.”

“Something happened to cause Reggie to want Darcy out of the picture. He had to be the one who sent that kid, Grant, and when he shot me outside your house, he was aiming at her. If she hadn’t stepped away when she did, she would have taken that bullet. He meant to kill her. He thought she was a danger to him, and he wanted her out of the way permanently.”

Joe scowled. “This job has been all wrong from the start. I think the Marshals Service wanted someone who was expendable, and they purposely withheld vital information to protect their witness without any regard for the safety of you or Darcy. They needed a scapegoat, and since I’m the one who talked you into this, I’m starting to get pissed off. I’ll make some calls, pull in a few favors, and find out what the hell’s going on.”

“Not before you get your ass to a doctor.” Walker tossed his bag inside the helicopter.

Johnny approached from the beach, his features drawn with fatigue. He was shorter than Walker and ten, maybe twelve, years older, his sandy-colored hair graying at the temples. He’d been quiet since everything fell apart, but now he strode up to them like a man with a purpose.

“What’s the game plan?” Johnny stopped in front of Walker.

“We try to make contact and make a deal.” Walker watched for his reaction, but Johnny wasn’t giving anything away.

Johnny studied him for a moment before he nodded. “Good.”

Walker glanced at Joe, surprised by Johnny’s agreement. Did the man understand what it meant? Joe shrugged, dug a fresh shirt from his bag, and waved Cara and Emma back to the chopper.

Walker took the controls to allow Joe’s shoulder a break. The closest urgent care facility was in Brookings, and ten minutes later, Walker set the helicopter down in a vacant lot two blocks away. He and Johnny stayed with the chopper while Joe, Cara, Emma, and the baby walked to the clinic.

Johnny’s gaze followed him as he went around to the other side of the aircraft and removed his duffel bag. He set it on the ground and sorted through the weaponry until he found what he was looking for—a knife with a six-inch serrated blade. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was designed for a Mexican drug lord and specifically balanced for throwing. Turned out it hadn’t been enough to keep the man alive, but Walker wasn’t superstitious. The knife might come in handy yet.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Johnny stood at the front of the chopper, watching him.

Walker glanced up. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“You’re right. It’s not, but she’s been part of my family for almost three years. She’s a sweet kid. It’s hard not to care about her.”

“She’s not a kid,” Walker growled, “and if you care so damn much, why did you get her involved in this?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Johnny ran a hand through his hair as he turned to walk away.

“Just tell me one thing. Was it worth it?”

Johnny stopped and, after a few seconds, swung around. “Frank DeLuca killed my father thirty-two years ago. Blew his brains out in front of his ten-year-old kid. I’ve lived for revenge ever since. Was it worth it? It will be when that son of a bitch is behind bars for the rest of his miserable life.”

“I hope so, because you’ve left quite a trail of dead bodies behind you to get here. Marshal Evans, the real Deputy Marshal Cooper, some kid that should be going to frat parties instead of trying to kill young women, and Reggie Allen isn’t out of ICU yet. Are you sure you’re ready to throw it all away to save Darcy?”

“She wasn’t supposed to be in the house. Reggie promised he’d get her out to someplace safe. Do you think I don’t know I screwed up? I should have told him to go to hell then, but I can’t change what happened. All I can do is try to make it right.”

The two men stared at each other, both deliberately taking the measure of the other. Walker didn’t want to feel empathy for the man, but he believed him. In the end, it made no difference. He would still sacrifice Johnny Fontana to save Darcy.

“I know your relationship with Darcy is none of my business.” Johnny turned his back. “I was just trying to determine your level of commitment to her.”

“I’ll see this through.”

“That’s good.” Johnny disappeared around the front of the chopper, leaving Walker to his preparations.

Thirty minutes later, Joe and Cara returned alone.

“Are Emma and the baby all right?”

Cara shot him an I-didn’t-think-you-cared look.

He shrugged. “Darcy will ask.”

“They’re fine.” Cara laid a hand on his arm. “Emma called her fiancé and he’s coming to get them.”

“Anything from Cooper?” Joe climbed behind the controls, slipping his arm from the sling the doctor had obviously forced on him.

“No. I was waiting to call him until you got back.” The phone vibrated in Walker’s hand as he pulled it from his pocket. Cooper’s number came up on the screen. Walker held up a hand for silence before he hit the speaker button.

Chapter Twenty-One

B
OUND AND GAGGED,
Darcy squirmed in the trunk of the car Cooper stole from some people who stopped to take pictures alongside the highway. She’d spent the first few minutes trying to keep track of left and right turns, stops, and elevation changes, but terror and the inability to breathe disrupted her concentration. She couldn’t get enough air. The gag impeded her breathing, which deteriorated to quick, erratic gasps that didn’t quite get the job done. She lost track of time as she fought the claustrophobic affects of her shallow prison. Each time Cooper applied the brakes, one of the bulbs shed a sliver of light into the trunk and gave her something to focus on other than her coffin-like confinement. When the dim glow disappeared and she was again swallowed up by darkness, she silently counted the seconds and fought the panic that engulfed her until the light returned.

She might as well face the truth. There was a good possibility she would die in this dark, cramped space.

After what seemed like forever, they turned onto a rough road, gravel probably, and Darcy slid toward the back of the car as it rattled and bumped uphill for a minute or two before it finally came to a stop. Maybe she would get out of this trunk after all. Was that a good thing? Would Cooper make her wish he’d sent the car off a cliff with her in it?

Her stomach ached with dread and her heart thundered out its own rhythm. The air in her dark prison, tainted with gasoline fumes, left her with a throbbing headache, a raw throat, and stinging and watery eyes . . . but she was still alive.

The driver’s door opened and someone approached the rear of the car. A key scraped in the lock and, as the trunk lid swung open, she squeezed her eyes shut against the brilliant sunlight. As soon as she could force her eyes open, she squinted at Cooper’s tall form looming over her. He cut the tape that circled her ankles and jerked her out of the trunk. She promptly fell, her legs numb and useless.

She gazed in surprise at the contemporary two-story house, surrounded by fir trees and pine, overlooking the ocean and the small community of Gold Beach. He’d brought her back to the safe house she’d left this morning. Would Walker think to look for her here? Cooper yanked her up and propelled her around the back of the house. When he slammed a brick from the flower bed through the glass in the kitchen door, it shattered. He reached inside, unlocked the door, and shoved it open. She tried not to show her disappointment that the alarm flashed
inactive.
Walker must have left in a hurry.

Needles of pain worked up Darcy’s legs as the blood began to circulate. She gritted her teeth and kept moving. In the kitchen he stopped, dragged a chair out from the table, and pushed her into it. As soon as he turned his back and walked to the sink, she jumped and ran.

So close to the front door she could taste her freedom, she tripped and sprawled against a small table. A ceramic pot crashed to the floor and shattered. Dirt and African violet leaves covered her hands. He was on top of her before she could regain her feet, yanking her up by her hair, and slapping her alongside the head with such force her ear went numb and her vision blurred. Darcy slumped to the floor again as blood trickled down her chin from a cut on her lip. Leaning forward on her bound hands to catch her breath, the room spun nauseatingly around her. Something sharp jabbed into the palm of her hand and she winced, then went still, hoping he hadn’t noticed. When he stepped around behind her, she picked up the shard from the broken pot and shoved it in the cuff of her shirtsleeve.

Without a word, Cooper pulled her to her feet, forced her ahead of him into the kitchen, and shoved her back in the chair. He retied her hands behind the chair, then rummaged in the kitchen drawers until he found a roll of duct tape and secured her ankles to the front legs. When he was finished, he knelt in front of her, wrapped his hand around her neck, and squeezed.

“If you cause me any more trouble, I swear I’ll choke the life out of you and leave you right here for Walker to find. Understand?”

Darcy fought to draw in air as her lungs screamed, but no air reached them. Panic surged through her, and she struggled frantically to escape. His face swam in front of her eyes as the room swirled in dizzy patterns.

“Understand?”

She nodded her head vigorously, and he loosened his grip on her throat. Her gasps for air were obstructed by the gag and her raw and bruised throat.

He laughed when she glared at him. Then he turned to the table and removed his shirt to reveal a bloody gunshot wound in his side. He flinched and swore as he worked the fabric loose, causing a fresh flow of blood, then dropped the torn and bloody shirt on the floor and stood stiffly, braced against the table for a few seconds. Finally, he stepped to the sink, soaked a towel in water, and cleaned the wound.

The bleeding slowed and finally stopped. Too bad. It would serve him right if he bled to death.

“Your boyfriend got in a lucky shot.” He scowled as he hurled the towel into the sink.

She would have smiled if she could. That was Walker’s bullet. Her elation didn’t last, however. How many times had he told her it was his job to protect her and she needed to do exactly what he told her? He was out there somewhere trying to do his job, and she just kept messing up. If she’d stayed where he told her, Cooper would have passed by without seeing her. Walker was right—she did have a problem following directions. Tears prickled behind her eyelids and she squeezed her eyes closed. Hell no, there’d be no tears in front of this creep.