Читать книгу Shattered Secrets - Jane M. Choate - Страница 12

TWO

After spending ten years in the mountains of Afghanistan, Sal was still adjusting to being home in Georgia, with its supercharged humidity and honeyed air. Though he’d been back in the States for over three years, he was still struggling with the difference in climate. The heavy smog that had hung over the city was absorbed into the darkening sky and was only a memory, but the humidity hung in the air and played havoc with his right shoulder, which still carried pieces of shrapnel from enemy fire, a souvenir from his days as a sniper’s spotter. Even in the air-conditioned offices, he felt the clamminess that clung to his skin like cheap polyester.

But it wasn’t the heat or even the energy-stealing humidity that caused him to go on high alert. Something was wrong. His senses flared in alarm at an unknown threat.

He felt it in the tension that pulsed in the air, saw it in the drawn lines that had moved into Olivia’s face in the short time he was gone to pick up dinner.

“What is it?”

She turned away for a few seconds as if gathering her thoughts. When she faced him once more, she smiled brightly. No doubt she believed she’d successfully hidden whatever was bothering her, but it wasn’t good enough to fool him. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

On the surface, she sounded calm, even convincing, but something was off. Her smile was too wide, her voice too determinedly cheerful. Her eyes were full of turmoil that hadn’t been there thirty minutes ago. She’d barely picked at the plate of steaming food he’d set in front of her.

“Something happened. You might as well tell me because I’m not going anywhere.”

“What? Are you my keeper now?” The harsh words appeared to have surprised her as much as they did him.

“Olivia.” He kept his voice soft. He didn’t want to spook her. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, bringing you all the way here. I realize I overreacted about the whole break-in thing.” She gave a forced laugh, the sound only deepening the taut atmosphere that charged the air. “I’m fine. Really.” Another laugh. “I appreciate you coming all this way, but you don’t need to stay. I’m sure you have real work, something better than babysitting me.”

The dismissal in the words had him wincing. Well, she’d find that it wasn’t so easy to send him packing.

Sal went at a problem straight-on and didn’t turn away until he had a solution. Seeing Olivia again wasn’t the usual kind of problem. Charging at it full speed ahead wouldn’t change the way things had ended between them. Nor would pretending that he no longer had feelings for her.

Right now, he had to put those feelings away and find out what she was hiding from him. That required finesse, not Delta strong-arm tactics.

“You don’t look fine. You look like you’d blow away if I breathed on you too hard.” It was no exaggeration. Olivia looked like a strong sigh would topple her. Shadows, as deep as a Georgia night, had taken up residence under her eyes.

Her earlier smile had vanished, a frown taking its place. “Thanks. I needed that.” The sarcasm in her words didn’t get to him, but the flash of hurt in her eyes did.

Sal wanted to kick himself. From the moment he’d shown up in Olivia’s office that morning, he’d blundered. Big-time. The drive from Atlanta to Savannah, plus worry for Olivia, had ratcheted up his impatience and sent his tact, never abundant under the best of circumstances, into a nosedive. That was no excuse, though.

Something had caused Olivia to turn her back on his help.

“You know I can’t leave you. Not like this. Tell me.”

Her frown darkened into a scowl, the lines of it so hard that he thought her face would break. She squared her shoulders, as though she needed to shore up her resolve. Chin pulled in, she gave the impression of a queen looking down at her subject. The effect was mitigated by the quiver of her lips. “I told you. I’m fine. You can go back to Atlanta.”

Sal had been trained in interpreting microexpressions, those unconscious gestures that revealed far more than words. His Delta unit had been assigned to Counter Terrorism for a stint.

The CT boys knew their stuff when it came to ferreting out information from suspected terrorists. Once back in the States, he’d gone to work for S&J Security/Protection, named for its founders Shelley Rabb Judd and her brother Jake Rabb.

Shelley, an ex–Secret Service agent, had shown Sal other tricks in detecting lies. Not much got by him.

Olivia’s gaze kept sliding to her left, a telltale sign that she was lying. “You have to go. Please.”

The plea in her voice caused him to frown. Gone was the calm of a moment ago. She sounded frantic. He was more certain than ever that something was going on, something that terrified her at least as much as last night’s attack.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

She shook her head from side to side, as though willing away whatever had scared her. “N-nothing.”

Sal fitted his finger beneath her chin, raising it until her gaze was level with his. She held it for a moment before looking away. “You always were a poor liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

“No? Then why can’t you look me in the eye?”

“Please, Sal.” Her voice hitched on a tiny sob. “You don’t understand.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “What don’t I understand? Tell me, Livvie. I want to help.”

“It’s Calvin. Someone took him.” Her shoulders trembled beneath his hands. “They said if I contact the police or the FBI, they’ll kill him.” She waited a beat. “And me, if I tell anyone.”

Sal took a moment to absorb that. “I’m not police or FBI,” he pointed out at last. “What are you going to do?”

She thrust out her chin. “I’ll find out what they want and deliver it.” The steel was back in her voice.

Sal kept his face impassive, but his mind was churning through possibilities. None of them good. As capable and intelligent as she was, Olivia was no match for kidnappers. He wasn’t going anywhere, but first, he had to convince her that she needed him. “What if I promise to not interfere and to keep a low profile?”

“I can’t risk it.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice because I’m not leaving.”

“Then I guess you’re staying.” The begrudging tone told him that she didn’t want him there but was glad he was there anyway.

A smile tugged at his lips. That was Olivia. Self-sufficient to a fault. Her mouth trembled, though, mute evidence that she wasn’t as confident as she pretended. If he hadn’t looked closely, he would have missed it.

Olivia put a hand to her mouth, as though aware of the giveaway. He didn’t comment on it. She wouldn’t appreciate the observation.

For a fraction of a moment, he wondered why he was trying so hard to convince her to let him help.

Not for the first time, he wondered why he had been born with a conscience that was as much taskmaster as moral compass. He should walk away from Olivia and her problem, content in the knowledge that he’d tried to help. The few times he’d ever ignored his conscience, however, he’d lived to regret it.

He had enough regrets to last several lifetimes.

* * *

One look at Sal and Olivia knew she’d have a fight on her hands to convince him that she could handle this on her own. The sharp angles of his face were cast in even harsher lines than usual.

It was his warrior face, one she’d seen only once before but the memory was forever etched in her mind. Two men had tried to rob her and Sal as they’d left a restaurant one night. One of the men had pushed her to the ground, causing her to cry out.

Sal had taken them down quickly and efficiently. When he’d turned to her, the ferocity in his eyes had sent her pulse into overdrive.

“The police will be here in a minute,” she’d said to defuse the anger that radiated from him.

“They wanted more than to rob us. If they had hurt you...”

“I’m okay. Thanks to you.” The experience had made her determined to never again be so powerless and she’d started studying martial arts.

He still wore the mantle of the soldier he’d been across his shoulders, telegraphing an innate desire to protect, to defend, to stand between danger and those weaker than himself. He was a good man, an honorable man, whose self-assurance and unshakable sense of justice defined him as much as the dark hair and skin that hinted at his Italian ancestry.

Against her will, Olivia felt herself responding to his appeal. To him. That stunning realization unfolded in the space of one heartbeat and shocked her into stillness. With an effort, she did her best to ignore it.

He looked the same as he had the last time she’d seen him, right down to the off-center dimple that punctuated his chin. She longed to smooth her finger in that shallow dent. Deliberately, she fisted her hands at her sides to keep from doing that very thing.

She couldn’t deny the frisson of pleasure she’d experienced when he’d walked into her office that morning as the sky grew pink with dawn. Nor could she shake off the sweet memories that assailed her, memories she’d locked away for two long years.

Olivia wanted to believe he was here because he cared about her, but she knew better. She pushed from her mind the unwelcome memory of how they’d parted, and concentrated on the present.

She let her gaze take in the man who had once meant so much to her. At five feet and nine inches, she was hardly petite. Still, she had to look up at Sal, who stood a good five inches over six feet. Broad shoulders, narrow waist and legs that were as sturdy as telephone poles, not to mention a military bearing, gave him an imposing presence.

No, there was nothing soft about Salvatore Santonni. With hard planes and abrupt angles, his face would never place him in the pretty-boy category. It had too much strength and stubborn resolve for such insipid looks and bore the lines and ruggedness that came from long hours exposed to the wind and the sun. His dark eyes missed nothing and portrayed a startling intensity.

Arms folded across his wide chest, he broadened his stance as though preparing for resistance. He knew her too well and had already anticipated her response.

But how else could she react? This was Calvin’s life they were talking about. She had to do what the kidnappers said. Exhaustion and hunger dragged at her, but it was the riot of emotions roiling through her that had turned her stomach inside out and her mind to mush.

She wet her lips. “I can’t risk involving you,” she said at last, panic rising with each syllable. “The kidnappers will know.”

“How will they know?”

“I don’t know.” She all but shouted the words. “All I know is that I have to do what they said. If I don’t... Calvin will die. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let it.”

“Just how do you plan to get him back? Ask nicely and hope the kidnappers play by the rules?”

Resentment filled her. Sal wasn’t responsible for bringing Calvin home safely. She was. With renewed purpose, she squared her shoulders and braced herself for what came next.

“You won’t get Chantry back on your own. Take a breath and then we’ll decide on our next step.”

“You can’t be here. They’ll know.”

Sal knelt in front of her. “You can do this. We can do this. But we have to be smarter than the bad guys.” He took her hands and folded them inside his own. “Whoever’s behind this is counting on you reacting with fear. You’re smarter than that.”

“Am I?” She hated the self-doubt in her voice and looked down at their clasped hands. Then raised her gaze to his. His dark eyes locked on hers. She saw strength and courage there. Maybe she could draw on some of his when her own was so lacking. Before she thought better of it, she voiced her thoughts aloud.

“I didn’t want to call you.” The admission cost her, but she plunged on. “I didn’t want to lean on you, but I’m doing exactly that.”

“You can lean on me whenever you like,” he said.

In that instant, she thought of the Lord and remembered that He’d said that all who came to Him could lean on Him.

She’d never doubted that the Lord would be there for her, but a man she hadn’t seen in two years was asking her to put Calvin’s life in his hands. Could she do it? Unbidden, the memory of Sal leaving her with scarcely a goodbye intruded into her thoughts, sending a spear of pain through her.

“Lean on you like I did two years ago?” She flushed at her rudeness. Sal had made the trip from Atlanta to Savannah solely to help her. He didn’t deserve the back side of her tongue.

His lips thinned, but he didn’t respond to the barb.

She wanted to snatch the words back, was about to do just that, when he said, “You have to see that you can’t do this on your own. These people don’t play fair.”

Gone was the apology that hovered on her lips. “I’m not an idiot. I know that.”

“I never said you were an idiot,” Sal said, his patience underscoring her lack of the same. “You’re one of the smartest people I know. But you don’t have experience in dealing with this kind of situation.”

“And you do?”

“In Afghanistan.” Pain darkened his eyes. “A group of insurgents grabbed a couple of locals who had been helping us. They had promised to make an example out of anyone who assisted the US. They had a reputation of being particularly brutal with their captives. My unit was called in to get them out.”

The words had a staccato rhythm to them, as though he could pry them out only by infusing every syllable with a mechanical precision. Whatever memory he was recalling obviously wasn’t a pleasant one. What he’d left unsaid was somehow worse than what he’d told her. “Let’s just say that kidnappings are unpredictable. Things can go south in a hurry.” His face morphed into a hard mask, a stark contrast with the gentleness he’d shown her only moments earlier.

Olivia wanted to ask him what had happened, but something held her back. If Sal wanted to share, he would, but she doubted he’d do so.

He had always been protective of her and had never wanted to bring the ugliness of war into her world. It had been one of the problems between them, his reluctance to share all of himself with her.

And what about you? an inner voice chastised. She hadn’t shared everything about herself, either. They had each held back parts of themselves, as though afraid they would give away pieces they wouldn’t get back should the need arise.

Another regret.

* * *

Sal’s mind clicked through possible scenarios of Olivia dealing with the kidnappers on her own, each more frightening than the last. She wasn’t equipped for it, as he’d tried to tell her.

Judging from her reaction, he’d made his point all too well.

“You’re not thinking straight,” he said now, his voice gentle. “That’s what kidnappers do. They want you off balance so you’ll do what they say without thinking it through.”

When her phone rang, she jumped. Sal motioned for her to put it on speaker, and she pressed a key. “Yes?”

“You disobeyed instructions.” The artificial voice gave no hint as to the caller’s identity. Man or woman. Young or old. There was no way of knowing.

“I didn’t go to the police,” she said quickly.

“But you told someone. Do not bother denying it. Your instructions were to tell no one. Now you will pay the price.” An ominous pause followed. “More precisely, Chantry will pay the price.”

“Wait! Please wait.”

A second voice. “Olivia, please. You have to do just as they say...” Calvin’s words ended in a scream.

Sal watched as Olivia held her breath. “Please. Please don’t hurt him. I’ll do what you want. Anything. Just please don’t hurt him again.” Her words dwindled to a sob.

“It is too late, lady. Your interference cost your boss much pain.”

“It was my fault.” She shouted the words in the phone.

“Why didn’t you listen? Why—” A hoarse cry followed. And another.

“Calvin!” But Calvin Chantry was no longer on the phone.

“What are you doing to him?” When she swayed, Sal placed his free hand at her waist, steadying her.

“Do you see what your failure to obey the rules has caused? This is on you, Ms. Hammond. Remember this the next time you are tempted to disobey instructions.” The voice was all the more chilling for its total lack of expression.

“Please,” she cried, voice slurred with shock and grief. “Please stop. I’ll do anything. Anything. But please stop hurting him.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Sal resisted the urge to wipe them away. He understood she wouldn’t want his acknowledgment of their existence.

“Then start obeying instructions. Or next time your boss will lose more than a body part.” A sly pause. “And you, Ms. Hammond, how would you look without one of your lovely ears?”