Читать книгу Shattered Secrets - Jane M. Choate - Страница 13

THREE

After a night of Calvin’s tortured cry echoing in her head, Olivia found herself on her knees, praying for the Lord’s guidance. She remained there for long moments, absorbing the quiet of the early morning.

Memories of her boss’s screams filled her throat with a lump of fear. She tried to swallow it, but it was like swallowing broken glass. Each shard sliced at her throat, spilling drops of blood and tears.

Why hadn’t she followed instructions? Why had she—It was too late for self-recriminations. The only thing she could do was to move forward. And that meant sending Sal away. She couldn’t afford to do anything else to antagonize the kidnappers.

Be still and know that I am God. The familiar scripture wrapped its peace around her, and she got to her feet, determined to do what she must.

Sal was a good and honorable man, but she had to keep him out of this from now on. Look what had happened when the kidnappers learned he was helping her. No matter what he said or what experience he’d had in dealing with abductions, he was a threat to Calvin’s safe return, which had to be her priority.

When he arrived to pick her up, he took one look at her and shook his head.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Wondering how you’re going to convince me to go away and let you handle this on your own.”

How did he do that? He’d read her mind as though her thoughts were written across her face in bold strokes.

“Your face gives away your every thought and feeling. So don’t bother trying to deny it.”

“I know you want to help, but this is Calvin’s life we’re talking about. If the kidnappers learn that you’re still helping me, Calvin will be punished.” She let her gaze meet Sal’s squarely. “Can you accept the consequences of that? Because I can’t.”

She watched as his broad shoulders stiffened and his lips pulled into a tight line, the controlled anger locked in his jaw a mute testament to his frustration.

Sal wanted to argue with her, to convince her that he was right—she saw it in his eyes—but he didn’t try to. All he said was, “I’m staying. Get used to it.”

* * *

Determination lit Olivia’s eyes. He knew that look. It was her I-can-handle-this-by-myself face. While he respected her independence, he couldn’t allow her to be hurt because she was too proud to admit she needed help. He knew he had to tread lightly.

He didn’t want to scare her. At the same time he needed to make her realize that kidnappings and ransom drops rarely, if ever, went smoothly. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into. He’d do whatever he had to in order to protect her. It was time she accepted that.

Olivia reached for his hand, nails biting into his palm. Visceral shock leached the color from her face until her skin appeared almost translucent.

“I’m sorry, Sal. You came all this way and I barely even thanked you.”

“It’s all right. But don’t try to send me away again. Whether you admit it or not, you need me.”

“You’re right.” She twisted a strand of hair. “That’s one thing I resented about you. You’re always right.”

Had he been right two years ago when he’d walked away from Olivia and what they had together?

At the time, he’d been sure it was the right thing to do. He’d left for a reason. That reason still held. His past was pockmarked with pain and despair. He couldn’t inflict that upon someone as full of light and love as Olivia.

He couldn’t focus on the past. Not now. They had to find Chantry. Both instinct and experience told him the kidnapping was more than a simple snatch-and-grab for money. If that had been the case, Olivia would have already received a ransom demand. Instead, the kidnappers were toying with her, trying to rattle her into making a mistake.

He had to convince her that she couldn’t blindly give in to their demands. He’d keep her safe, whether or not she agreed to it. His sense of duty and honor, drilled into him during his years in Delta, demanded that. Though he’d left the military behind, he hadn’t left the essence of it in the mountains of Afghanistan. It was in his blood, his pores, his heart.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

When Olivia and Sal arrived at the office, the receptionist greeted them and pointed to a box. “Ms. Hammond, a package arrived for you.”

Before Olivia could take the package, he stopped her. “Let me.” He withdrew a pair of thin protective gloves from his pocket and donned them. If there were any fingerprints or DNA on the box, he didn’t want to disturb them.

“You think this—” she gestured to the box “—is from the kidnappers?”

“I think there’s a strong possibility.” He looked about the reception area. So far only the receptionist was here, but other workers would probably soon arrive. “Do you want to take this into your office?” Inside her office with the door locked, Sal didn’t let go of the package.

She held out her hands. “I’ll do it.”

He shook his head. “There could be a bomb inside. Probably not. But we have to have it checked.”

Her nod indicated reluctant agreement.

Sal made a call to a friend still in uniform, explained the situation. Within ten minutes, an explosives expert arrived and told them to wait outside. A short time later, the man gave the all clear.

“No bomb. Something else.” He pushed aside wrapping paper.

Inside lay a severed finger.

* * *

Sal and his friend exchanged a grim look. “I don’t know what you’re dealing with here, Sal, old buddy,” the man said, “but you’d better get some help.” With that, he left.

Olivia barely registered the conversation. She could only stare. The gasp that escaped her lips was filled with revulsion. She’d expected something like this, but the reality was worse. A lot worse.

“It’s Calvin’s.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “I recognize the ring. He bought it a few months back. We had just won a big case and he wanted to celebrate.” She frowned. “I remember mentioning that it wasn’t his style. Calvin said something about maybe I didn’t know everything there is to know about him. Then he laughed and patted my hand.” She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory.

Sal studied the box with its grisly contents. “The ruby looks real,” he said of the large stone set in the pinky ring.

“Calvin would never have had a fake. Real or nothing, he used to say.”

“We don’t have a choice anymore,” Sal pointed out. “We have to take this to the police. It’s evidence of a crime.”

Of course he was right. She was an officer of the court. If she didn’t turn the finger and ring over to the police, she was guilty of committing a crime. But what of Calvin?

Obviously the kidnappers had eyes on her. What she did now could sign his death warrant, but doing nothing wouldn’t bring him back, either. She was caught between two untenable choices. The weight of indecision was crushing.

Calvin’s screams remained fresh in her memory. How was she supposed to agree to taking the box to the police when she could still hear his cries in her mind? A hard fist tightened in her belly at the acceptance that she was to blame.

“You’re doing it again. Blaming yourself.”

How did he know? She feigned ignorance, not wanting to admit that he knew her so well.

“You’re blaming yourself for what happened to your boss. Don’t fall into that trap. You’ll never get free.” Sal skimmed a finger along her jaw. “You might be able to hide your feelings from others, but not from me. Your expression gives you away every time.”

When she started to put her hands to her cheeks, he stopped her. “Don’t try to hide. Not from me.”

Deliberately, she backed away from him and the touch that could still turn her inside out.

She knew she was putting off the inevitable, and she hated the fact that she felt cowardly for doing so. She’d never been one to shirk from her responsibility, but now...now she didn’t know where her duty lay.

“The sooner the police start processing this, the better.” Sal stood, grabbed her hand, squeezed. “Right now, we’re operating in the dark. We don’t know who’s doing this. We don’t know what they want. We need something, anything, to give us a handle on this.”

She needed the wisdom of Someone wiser than herself. Lord, please help me make the right decision. I can’t afford to make a mistake.

The silent prayer afforded her a measure of peace.

“Okay,” she said, reluctance drawing out the two syllables. “We take this to the police.”

“You’re doing the right thing.”

Was she? She didn’t know.

Olivia looked up at Sal, not surprised to find his eyes flat and dark. He was all Delta at the moment. Good. She had a feeling she was going to need his special set of skills and training.

She’d kept track of him during the last two years. Stories of what he’d done in his work for S&J Security/Protection frequently made the Savannah papers. Sal was a hero, though he’d deny it with his last breath.

He’d brought home the courage that had defined him as a Delta, risking his life to safeguard others. It would always be so with this man who put country and honor first. Her heart had filled with pride when she’d read the articles chronicling his bravery and resourcefulness.

On top of that, she was still trying to make sense of the feelings swirling through her system at his nearness, making it difficult to breathe. The slightest touch sent sparks arcing between them. Or had she imagined it?

Her instincts couldn’t be trusted at the moment. High stress and emotional upheaval were a potent combination. Mistaking vulnerability for something else could only lead to heartache, and she did her best to set aside the complex feelings the last twenty-four hours had stirred up.

She’d managed to take a few deep breaths; at least, she didn’t sound like she was gasping for air any longer. She looked at the man who had burst back into her life, riding to her rescue like the hero he was.

His code of honor was a way of life, dictating how he lived and what he stood for. That’s why he was here, to help her, to save Calvin’s life and maybe her own. No other reason.

She’d do well to remember that.