Operation Reunion Page 16

  She simply couldn’t believe that any of them would be involved. Why would a victim who knew the pain they had experienced do something that could cause someone else the same kind of pain? She knew there were people out there who were simply wired wrong, sociopaths, even psychopaths, but none of her people fit that description. She just couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea—

  Quinn’s cell phone rang, and Kayla was thankful for the interruption.

  “They wouldn’t,” she insisted quietly as Quinn turned slightly away to listen to whoever had called. “They’ve been through too much pain themselves to want to cause it for others.”

  “Sometimes grief can send people over the edge,” Dane said. It was in that same, uninvolved tone, yet Kayla couldn’t help wondering if it had been aimed at her. She heard Quinn speaking to whoever had called but so quietly she couldn’t understand what he was saying. She focused on Dane’s assertion.

  “Those are the people who don’t come looking for help in the first place,” she said, keeping her voice even with an effort.

  Dane didn’t look at her when she spoke, but he did look thoughtful. “Fair point,” he said.

  Fair. Oh, yes, Dane was fair. He always had been. Sometimes it had annoyed her, when she was running hot over something and he insisted on pointing out the validity of some aspect on the other side. But now it just hurt. Because when it had come down to something that hurt her, personally, he’d ever and always tossed that out and stood with her. He’d always had her back, whether he agreed completely or not.

  Until now.

  Quinn stood up, and all three still seated at the table looked at him. He slipped his phone back into his pocket. For a moment he said nothing, and Kayla felt apprehension building inside her. When his gaze shifted, and settled on her, it spiked into fear.

  “That was Teague,” he finally said. “He’s been out covering old ground to see if anyone saw or heard anything that might tie into the firebombing.”

  “And?” Dane asked when Kayla didn’t, couldn’t speak.

  “He didn’t find anything new there. But he did learn something else.”

  When Quinn didn’t go on immediately, Kayla found her voice. “What?” she demanded because it was clear that whatever it was, Quinn wasn’t happy about having to tell her.

  “He found someone who saw your brother.”

  Kayla’s heart leaped. “Where? When? Who saw him? Are they sure?”

  The questions tumbled from her excitedly. She’d hoped Foxworth could really help, that they were as good as they said, but to get this close in such a short time? They were miracle workers.

  Dane leaned back in his chair, and she got the impression he was mentally and physically backing away. But her excitement over the news made her put that on hold for the moment.

  “Where?” she repeated, wondering why Quinn wouldn’t just tell her.

  And then he did, in a voice that held no pleasure or triumph.

  “Here.”

  Kayla’s breath caught. “Here? In Redwood Cove? But that’s crazy. Why would he come back and not contact me?”

  “Maybe he did, in his own, charming way,” Dane said, and there was something dark and harsh in his tone.

  She made the jump quickly. He thought Chad had done this. With no proof at all, even less than had been at the scene of the murders ten years ago.

  She glared at him, wanting suddenly to prod him into saying it, even as she realized it was with the hope he would make her angry enough to start getting over him.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked him, her voice sharp.

  “Depends on the answer to ‘when,’” Dane said with a glance at Quinn.

  Quinn sighed. Kayla turned back to him.

  In a voice so gentle she knew the words were going to hold pain, in his view anyway, Quinn finally answered her.

  “Last night. Just after 2:00 a.m. Near your house.”

  Chapter 24

  Kayla felt like a suddenly punctured balloon. Deflated, limp. Pressure had been building up inside her until she’d felt as if she would come apart, and then, in less than ten words, Quinn Foxworth had burst the bubble she’d been living in.

  Chad. Here.

  Without contacting her.

  Last night.

  Near her home.

  At about the time of the explosion.

  “Who saw him?” It was Dane, speaking calmly, as if the world hadn’t just collapsed.

  Because it’s only your world now. Not his.

  “Troy Reid,” Quinn said.

  Kayla’s head came up. “Troy saw him?”

  This destroyed her tiny, lingering hope that it had been a mistake, that someone had only thought they’d seen Chad or had seen someone who looked like him. Troy had known Chad too well—he wouldn’t make a mistake like that.

  “Yes. And,” Quinn added, “Teague said he was pretty upset when he told Troy what had happened. He wanted to know if you were all right, if you needed anything. He’ll probably call you later.”

  “Where is my brother now?”

  “We don’t know,” Quinn answered.

  She frowned. “Troy didn’t know? They were always best friends.”

  “He says he has no idea. Teague says he said he was completely surprised when he saw him—a little shocked even that Chad hadn’t let him know he was back.”

  “The great Troy Reid caught off guard,” Dane muttered. “I would have liked to have seen that.”

  There was a whiff of the old rivalry in his voice, and Kayla didn’t know whether to be angry or secretly pleased about it. Maybe Dane hadn’t shut things off as completely as it seemed.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “We keep looking. You get some rest.”

  “But I—”

  Dane cut her off. “You’ve been up all night, and you’ve been hurt, shocked and through hell. You need sleep.”

  She would have been happier about his interruption if he’d sounded more concerned and less like that impartial bodyguard she’d thought of earlier. But the thought of collapsing into bed was suddenly so appealing she thought if she closed her eyes she might doze off right here.

  And then it struck her.

  She didn’t have a bed. Not anymore.

  “Where?” She wished she hadn’t sounded quite so forlorn.

  “My place,” Dane said.

  “Or ours,” Hayley put in.

  “Neither,” Quinn said, relieving her of that decision. “Until we’re sure who’s behind this, you should stay clear of anyplace you’d be expected to go.”

  Thankful that there was at least some doubt, somewhere, that Chad had done this, Kayla nodded.

  “Where then?” she asked.

  “We’re a little short on safe houses in the area at the moment,” he said.

  “Speaking of things that have been blown up,” Hayley said. There was a lighthearted note in her voice that seemed at odds with the words, and she and Quinn exchanged a glance that made Kayla smile despite her own turmoil, knowing the story of how they had met.

  “There’s an old motel over by Freedom Bay,” Dane said.

  “And Mrs. Clark’s B and B,” Kayla said. “Although I wouldn’t want to cause her any problems.”

  “The motel, I think,” Quinn said. “And you should take one of our cars, just in case.”

  He picked up his cell phone and pushed a single button.

  “Rafe? We need a car. An anonymous one. Can we borrow yours?” A pause, then, “Okay, thanks.”

  He disconnected and looked at Kayla with a smile. “It looks like it couldn’t get out of its own way, but looks are deceiving. More important, it blends.”

  “I’ll be careful with it,” Kayla said.

  “I’ll drive.”

  Her head snapped around to stare at Dane.

  “I told you, I’m not leaving you alone until this is over.” He looked at Quinn. “You have any problem with that?”

  “None. I assumed,” Quin
n said easily. “We’ll get you both some clothes and whatever else you need at the moment.”

  And just like that, she was dispensed with. Her next move decided by the men. She would have argued if she wasn’t so tired. Too tired to even think.

  Which told her, she supposed, that she shouldn’t be arguing at all. Maybe it wasn’t a male thing. Maybe it was the awake deciding for the half-asleep. And just as well.

  * * *

  Quinn hadn’t been kidding, Dane thought. The slightly battered, decade-old silver coupe didn’t look like much, but it purred like a big cat and shifted like silk, and when he put his foot in it from a stop sign he discovered it had some big dog tendencies, too—quick and powerful enough to bark the tires.

  But most welcome for him was the fact that he didn’t have to make an adjustment for his long legs. He and Rafe were about the same height, and he always felt a little cramped in most cars. Not this one, despite the fact that it seemed no bigger than any other average car on the road.

  “A wolf in sheep’s clothing,” he murmured as they left the city limits and headed down the narrower part of the road through thicker trees and dappled sunlight.

  “Sort of like its owner,” Kayla said, the first time she’d spoken since they’d left Foxworth. “A little beat up on the outside but lethally effective.”

  Dane glanced at her, curious enough about what she’d said to set aside his determination to speak to her as little as possible. “Lethally?”

  “Hayley told me he’s the team sniper.”

  Team sniper?

  Dane’s perception of Foxworth as a do-gooder, strictly investigative-type organization shifted suddenly. They had—needed—a sniper?

  “Teague wasn’t kidding when he said Quinn kidnapped her. That really is how they met.”

  Dane knew her well enough to recognize she was feeling the urge to talk, to pretend things were normal between them simply because they were not. She kept going with the story, and he hoped she wasn’t harboring the hope that pretending long enough could make it real. Yet he found it a relief himself; the strain of being with her was already beginning to wear at the edges of his control.

  “Explosions, sieges, literal fly-by-night escapes and a sniper?” Dane said when she had finished the tale, shaking his head. “There’s obviously a hell of a lot more to the Foxworth Foundation than I realized.”

  “Hayley said they do occasionally get involved in nasty situations. That this witness they helped knew of them because they’d rescued an American girl from a drug cartel. Took her right out from under the nose of some big drug lord.”

  “Sounds like something we have government people for,” Dane said.

  “But they didn’t do anything. Bogged down in diplomacy and political haggling, Hayley said, and the girl nearly died. Would have, if they hadn’t gone in and gotten her.”

  “Bet that made them unpopular in some quarters.”

  “Hayley said that’s the best part. They’re independent, not connected to any agency, and have extensive resources. They don’t need anyone’s approval to act.”

  “What about fallout afterward?”

  “I guess some of those resources go to some really good attorneys,” Kayla said.

  “So they’re not beholden to anyone, but there are many, many people beholden to them,” Dane said.

  “That’s how it works.”

  “Sort of gives a new definition to balance of power, doesn’t it?” he mused aloud.

  “Exactly,” Kayla said with a small laugh.

  And Dane realized that somehow things had slipped back into normal. As if her pretending really had made it real.

  He was going to have to be on guard, he thought. It would be very, very easy to let it happen, to let it all slide away like a patch of debris floating in a stream, forgotten once it was out of sight and replaced by clear, fresh water.

  The motel, with a small café attached, appeared on the right, tucked back into the trees. The nearest other buildings had been left behind at least a mile back. Dane wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but Quinn had seemed happy enough with the choice, and with his new awareness of some of the unexpected skills of the whole Foxworth organization, he decided that was good enough.

  He’d have to stay alert and aware, though. And right now, after the long, rough night, he was feeling a bit ragged. But it was Kayla who had been hurt, who needed rest; he was just going to have to manage.

  He ordered Kayla to stay in the car with the doors locked while he went into the office. He found that the ever-efficient Hayley had called ahead for them, and he was back in moments with a key in his pocket. An old-fashioned key dangling from a ring that also held a heavy brass tag in the shape of an orca, that icon of the Northwest.

  Then he walked to the café and ordered two of the largest coffees they had and a couple of sandwiches for later. Once they were in, he didn’t want to come back out unless he had to.

  The room was at the far end of a row of six, and Dane guessed it had been chosen specifically for that location; there were no vending machines, no laundry facility, nothing was beyond that last door, so no one had reason to be there except the occupants. He wouldn’t be surprised if Quinn knew that already. Or had been able to find it out in the time it had taken them to get here; the Foxworth research capabilities were very impressive.

  He parked the car near the opposite end of the building, as Quinn had suggested. He wasn’t sure it would help if Chad—or whoever—came after them, but it might slow him down enough for them to realize he was there and give them time to escape.

  He just had to be awake to realize it.

  “We’re down here,” he said when Kayla gave him a puzzled look as he started to walk back along the row of doors. She looked more than just puzzled by his actions, but he wanted her inside and safe before he explained about the slight diversion of parking the car in front of a different room.

  It wasn’t until he had the door open and they’d stepped inside that she turned to look at him, then at the single room key, and asked the simple question that had apparently really been behind the deeper intensity of her expression.

  “We?”

  He steeled himself. “One room. Two beds.”

  She looked around, saw the two queen-size beds, and color crept up into her cheeks.

  Two beds, he told himself. No problem. Sure.

  Dane closed the door behind them, refusing to think about the hell he’d let himself in for.

  Maybe he’d have no problem staying awake after all.

  Chapter 25

  “Do your folks ever fight?”

  Dane blinked at the seeming non sequitur and at the oddity of it in itself; she knew his parents, they—

  Damn.

  It hit him abruptly. He was going to have to tell them. And his mother would be...maybe not pleased but relieved. And that would smart. It would probably be best to just let her think he’d finally seen the light, that he’d finally taken her advice after all these years.

  “Do they?”

  “No. They’ve been married thirty years.”

  “Are you saying they don’t have anything to fight about anymore, or that they never did?”

  He frowned. Was she really trying to make some sort of comparison between what was happening between them and a marital spat?

  “Of course they did. When I was a kid they’d argue now and then, just not much anymore. They’ve learned how to deal. What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “They love each other more than any couple I’ve ever known. I just wondered if it was always smooth sailing.”

  Just like that she took the wind out of his sails. And reminded him of something he’d once learned that he’d shoved so far back into the “don’t want to think about it” part of his mind that he indeed rarely did.

  When he was nineteen, home from college for a visit, he’d learned his parents had actually separated for a while. His uncle Alex, who his mother had always said needed a
governor on his mouth, had let slip one day that Dane’s father had once spent several weeks sleeping in his attic room. To this day he didn’t know the full story of what had happened with them at the time relative newlyweds; neither of them would discuss it.

  “Newlywed problems. We worked it out,” was all his mother would say, “and because it was before you were born, it’s not your concern.”

  “Working it out is why you were born,” his father had quipped, earning him a simultaneous glare and blush from his wife. And that had embarrassed the still teenaged Dane enough that he dropped the subject forever.

  He’d never told Kayla that, he realized. That was at the time when his long absences away at school, and the unrelenting peer pressure over loving someone younger at that stage of life, had stretched their relationship to its thinnest. Until now.

  Only Kayla’s unswerving loyalty had kept them going back then. The same unswerving loyalty she had to her brother. Could he really hold that against her when he had reaped the benefits? And hadn’t she been just as loyal to him, even when he’d been the prime suspect in the attack on her?

  And there it was, he thought. Just what he’d been afraid of. An hour alone with her in a motel room, and he was looking for reasons to backtrack, to change his mind, to go back to what they’d had, that loving, deep, and then passionate relationship that had been his foundation for so long.

  “I’m going to go out and look around. Quinn said to make sure I knew what normal looked like here so I could spot anything different.”

  “Makes sense,” she said, not calling him on the abrupt change of subject.

  “I need you to promise me to stay here.”

  “I’ll go with—”

  “No.”

  It came out more sharply than he’d meant it to. She jerked back as if he’d raised a hand to her, and that hurt as much as if she’d actually slapped him.

  “You’re the target,” he said. “The last thing we need is you outside advertising where you are.”

  She couldn’t argue with that, he told himself.