“That doesn’t appear to be too onerous,” he said gently. “Anything else?”
“Just one. If I call and ask you to come to me, you have to come.” She added simply, “Because it will mean I won’t be able to stand being without you for one minute more.”
“Cara.”
She threw back her head and laughed. “See? Look at you. I’m going to win this, Jock.”
“I’m scared to death you might.” He turned away. “But in order for it not to be a runaway victory, I believe I’ll send you back to your room.”
“No, if you want us to be friends, you can act like one. I don’t want to leave you yet.” She smiled at him. “Could I have a glass of wine?”
“Why not?” He crossed the suite to the small bar. “How discourteous of me. But I do have some excuse. As I recall, you weren’t old enough to drink the last time the subject came up.”
“And you like to remind yourself of that.” She took the glass of merlot from him. “But I’m of age for anything that comes along these days.” She sipped the wine. “Though I don’t have a broad range of experience in much of any of it. The music always gets in the way. Everything for the music.”
“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Of course not.” She made a face. “But I’m not liking all the froufrou that goes along with it.” She looked down at the white lace gown she was wearing. “Paige Hunter, the designer my agent hired, makes me wear stuff like this. She says it looks virginal and youthful and makes the audience be more impressed when I start playing. You’d think that only the music would matter to them.”
“I’m sure once you start to play, they don’t care what you’re wearing.”
“Not if I do what I’m supposed to do.” She took another sip of wine. “But I didn’t want to wear this gown tonight. The last thing I wanted was to give you ammunition against me. You’re probably thinking how young and dewy-eyed I look, right?”
“I always think that no matter what you’re wearing.”
She sighed. “But this makes it worse. And you know there’s nothing dewy-eyed about me. I know how terrible the world can be. But I also know it can be wonderful if I don’t let stupid men like you ruin it for us.” She looked down into her wine. “But there’s one thing that is true. I’m still a virgin. I’m sorry. I know no one wants virgins these days. I thought about going to bed with someone else to relieve you of that burden, but I didn’t get around to it. No, that’s not true. I just don’t want anyone but—”
“Hush.” His fingers were suddenly on her lips. His voice was thick. “I don’t believe I can take any more of these confidences at the moment. You’re coming very close to killing me. Whatever you are is quite perfect. Now, can we drop it?”
She nodded. “I just thought I’d get it out of the way.” She turned and sat down on the couch. “Will you sit down with me and have another glass of wine and tell me everything you’ve been doing? I’ve missed that, Jock.”
He smiled, filled his glass, and dropped down beside her. “I’m afraid I’ve been leading a very boring existence compared to your touring. No glamour at all.”
“I don’t really do anything but work.” She curled up close to him. “Except for that one month a year I spend with my grandfather. But you know all about that, don’t you? You never let me be alone with him. Were you at Tahoe last year?”
“Tahoe’s a beautiful area. I imagine that you find it inspirational.”
“That’s a yes. I was looking for you. It was very frustrating to know that you were probably somewhere nearby protecting me from my grandfather when you’d been ignoring me all year.” She gazed down at her wine. “Frustrating and totally useless. You don’t have to keep such a close eye on me. The only thing about me that interests my grandfather is my music. I’m perfectly safe.”
“You keep saying that. I prefer to make my own judgment about Sergai Kaskov.”
“And I prefer not to talk about him at all. You get all quiet, and it makes me nervous. I was just curious.” She smiled. “And I’d much rather you tell me all about your boring life. Let’s see, mountain climbing, yacht racing, training with combat teams.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Besides all you do for Lord MacDuff. Not so boring, Jock.”
“If you say so.” He took a sip of his wine. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you…”
* * *
She was asleep.
Jock gazed down at her.
She’d resented that dewy-eyed description, but at this moment, she looked incredibly fresh and glowing … and beautiful.
He reached down and traced the line of her cheek with his forefinger. So strong. So vulnerable. So completely willing to fight for those she loved.
As she had fought for him tonight.
But he couldn’t let her win that battle. He was right, and she was wrong. He’d given up the right to have anyone like Cara in his life. He was still the assassin Reilly had made him, the deadly poison was always just waiting for a trigger to release it. He couldn’t let any of it touch her.
But how to keep her from being hurt again? He’d hoped that she’d find someone else during these last four years. That was a lie. No hope. Just desperation.
And she’d responded by fighting back and coming after him. What they’d been together was too strong. He’d only managed to make her feel rejected and uncertain. He’d seen that hurt, and he couldn’t put her through that again.
Well, he’d work it out, he thought wearily. But not now, take these hours and cherish them. He’d told her he’d go slow and give back a little of what he’d withheld from both of them during these last years. He knew she was thinking that she could change his mind completely and get what she wanted.
And what he wanted, God help him.
His finger touched her upper lip with exquisite tenderness.
And maybe God would help him by letting him know how he could save her when she wouldn’t save herself.
And forgive him for taking longer than he should to figure it out for himself because of how much he needed these memories …
* * *
Jock was carrying her.
“What are you doing?” Cara asked sleepily.
An elevator …
She was suddenly wide-awake. “Jock!”
“Just taking you down to your room. It’s nearly morning. The hotel will be stirring soon.”
“Then let me down. I can get there by myself. I’m not a child.”
“You looked like one curled up on my couch all those hours.” He let her slide to her feet. “But if you insist.”
Wonderful hours. Listening to him talk, gazing up at his expressions, knowing that she had made chance into a slim reality. “I insist. It’s bad enough I’m parading through the hotel in this gown. I gave a concert for St. Jude’s last night, remember? If I run into anyone, I want the focus to be about reminding them to give to the charity, not whether they caught me on a walk of shame.” The elevator doors were opening, and she moved forward. “Go back to your suite. I’ll be fine.”
“When I see you to your door.” He got on the elevator and punched the button for the twelfth floor. “Just as I’d do with all the other zillions of women that I send on that walk of shame. I wouldn’t want you to feel neglected.”
“Be quiet.” She smothered a yawn. “It was only a slight exaggeration.”
“But I’m impressed you’re being so discreet. It indicates that these years in the spotlight have not only matured you, they’ve taught you about consequences.”
She stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He met her eyes. “That you should consider that you have responsibilities, and I would definitely get in the way. You’re already finding that out.”
“Really?” The elevator door slid open. “You’re wrong again, Jock.” She strode past him down the hall to her suite. Those hours of golden contentment were abruptly shattered. She searched in her bag for her key. “Though you ev
idently think you’ve discovered a weakness that you can explore.” She turned to face him, her eyes glittering. “I don’t care what the media or anyone else thinks of me. It was only the kids I was concerned about. From now on, I’ll handle that kind of obligation so that there won’t be a problem. And as for my ‘maturity,’ it only tells me what I want and that I intend to get it.” She punched her finger at his chest. “So it would be smart of you to take me now so that we could have a life with some dignity and grace. Because I don’t care if I have to look like I have the morals of an alley cat or one of those Hollywood rock stars. But I think you would, Jock. No one is more protective than you.” She kissed him hard and fast. “But I don’t want you to protect me. All I want you to do is love me.” She was fumbling with the key. “Come by and pick me up at eleven. I promise when we get to the lake cottage that I won’t cause you any embarrassment. After all, I’m so very mature these days.” She slammed the door behind her.
She stood there in the dark, trying to recover. She shouldn’t have lost her temper. It had only been a few words, but it had shown her that the path was still going to be rough and hard. She had just been disappointed and caught off guard at a time when she’d been more happy than she could remember being in a long time.
But it would be all right. She had made strides tonight. She would make more in the next few days. Go to bed and sleep and start over when she woke.
She turned to pick up her violin case and take it to her bedroom.
She stopped in bewilderment.
It wasn’t on the couch where she’d set it when she’d come into the suite with the St. Jude committee.
Maybe the turn-down maid had set it on the floor or taken it to the bedroom.
But she’d put the Do Not Disturb plaque on the door when she’d left the suite, as she always did. The violin was an Amati and very valuable. She never permitted strangers around it when she was not in the room.
She was starting to panic. The violin was more than valuable, it was part of her. Just as the music was part of her.
She reached out to turn on the light. The violin wasn’t on the floor.
She ran toward the bedroom.
Darkness, again.
She reached for the wall switch.
Still darkness.
But the living-room switch had worked …
A sound behind her.
Harsh breathing.
She whirled.
Sharp pain in the back of her neck as a needle was plunged deep!
And then the darkness disappeared into total nothingness …
* * *
Cara wasn’t answering.
Jock had already knocked on her door three times and called her cell. It had gone straight to voice mail.
He shouldn’t be surprised, Jock told himself. He had managed not only to hurt her again but make her angry. She had probably decided to go to the lake cottage by herself and let him trail along later. It was what any other woman would do in the same circumstances.
It was not what Cara would do.
She was everything that was honest, and straightforward, and determined. Even when she had confronted him in anger, she had not been anything else. If she had decided to not let him go with her to the lake cottage, she would have called him and told him. She would not have just left and let him find out when he got to her door.
Unless there had been an emergency with Eve or Joe.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Eve.
“Jock?” Eve said when she picked up. “Cara said she was bringing you here for lunch. Are you still coming?”
“I don’t know. Am I? Is everything okay there?”
“Fine. Joe and Michael have just put on the steaks. When are you and Cara going to be here?”
“Cara’s not there?”
“Not yet.” She was silent. “I’m not liking this, Jock. What’s wrong?”
“It might be nothing. I just thought I’d check in with you.” But he could feel the coldness clutching at him. “There were reasons why she might not be answering her door at the hotel. It was just that she told me to be here.”
“What reasons?” Eve’s voice was suddenly harsh. “Listen to me. I don’t care what kind of brouhaha the two of you are having, Cara isn’t one to hide out in her suite unless you did something pretty damn bad. What happened?”
“Other than the usual, I have no idea. I’ll let you know when I do.” He pressed the disconnect.
Shit!
He stared at Cara’s door for a minute longer. The coldness was growing within him. Do the civilized thing and con the desk to open that door for him? Screw it. It would take too much time. Why bother when he’d been trained to break into any stronghold to reach the target? He bent down and worked for less than a minute on the lock before he threw the door open.
The overhead light was on in the sitting room, but everything else seemed normal.
“Cara?”
No answer. He hadn’t thought there would be.
She wasn’t here. And the coldness within him was freezing, hardening more with every second.
He moved slowly toward the bedroom. Before he reached it he saw Cara’s evening purse on the floor. He bent to pick it up and saw her phone inside it. It was still registering the calls he’d just made to her.
Shit!
There was a light on in the bedroom. He could see the bed was untouched.
Then he saw the blood.
On the carpet.
On the bed skirt.
Splashed on the wall beside the door leading to the bathroom.
No!
He was running toward the bathroom.
More blood on the white tiles.
No blood in the shower.
But there was blood on the ripped and torn pieces of the white-lace gown that had been tossed on the vanity.
Cara making a face. “I didn’t really want to wear it tonight.”
He felt the muscles of his stomach clench as he turned away. No body, he told himself. Hold on to that. Blood, but no body yet. It didn’t have to be true. Search. Find out what happened. Find her.
He went back into the bedroom.
And then he saw the violin.
* * *
“Get down here,” Jock told Joe curtly when he picked up his phone. “Marquis Hotel. I’m going to need you.”
“What’s wrong?” Joe turned away from the barbecue grill. “You upset Eve when you called before.”
“And everyone knows that’s a primary sin in your eyes. Too bad. I need you here. And you’re going to want to be here. It might be a good idea not to bring Eve.” He paused. “I can’t find Cara. But I found plenty of blood.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. I didn’t want to disturb anything in her suite, but you need to get a forensic team down here to take it apart. And you’re the only one I’d trust to make certain they do a decent job.” He added with icy precision, “And to stop the hotel-security people from trying to keep me from doing what I need to do. I have to find her.”
And Joe knew how dangerous it would be for anyone to get in Jock’s way once he’d made that decision. He kept that deadly talent firmly leashed these days, but Cara would be the trigger that would loose it. No one had any firm info about the number of people Jock had assassinated when he’d been under Thomas Reilly’s control, but Joe regarded him as one of the most lethal men he’d ever met. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. The forensic team will be there in forty-five. Don’t do anything that will get in my way when I get there.” He hung up and turned to Michael. “You’ll have to finish up here. I have to go and deal with some work downtown. Take care of your mom while I’m gone.”
“I always take care of her. Just like you do.” Michael’s head was tilted as he studied Joe. “Is it Cara?”
Joe had given up trying to figure out how Michael seemed to be able to guess what he was thinking. It was easier just to accept it. But he never lied to the boy. “Jock thinks she might be in tr
ouble. I’m going to go and find out if he’s right.” His hand clapped down on Michael shoulder. “But we’ll bring her back. It just might not be before dinner. So finish those steaks and put them in the fridge.”
Michael nodded. “It’s going to scare Mom,” he said soberly as he turned back to the grill, “You’d better go and say something to make her feel better.”
“I’ll try to do that.” Joe turned, left the barbecue area, and ran up the steps to the porch. It was all very well for Michael to tell him to say something to make Eve feel better, but what could that be? He didn’t know enough to tell her anything hopeful.
And she wasn’t going to like not being able to go with him to the hotel. The only way she’d accept it was if she felt it necessary to stay and take care of Michael.
As Michael felt bound to take care of his mother. Everyone was trying to take care of everyone else. That’s what families did.
But who was taking care of Cara?
I found plenty of blood.
* * *
“It’s about time you got here,” Jock said roughly as he crossed the lobby to meet Joe. “The security chief won’t show me the video feed from the security cameras. I wasn’t going to wait any longer.”
“Only thirty minutes,” Joe said impatiently. “I don’t have a helicopter parked at the cottage, dammit.” He scanned Jock’s expression as he headed for the elevator. It was every bit as grim and lethal as he’d thought it would be. The muscles of his jaw appeared leaner, more intense, his silver-gray eyes were bright … and eager. No, not eager. Hungry. This must be the face of that young boy who had been transformed into a relentless assassin by Thomas Reilly all those years ago. Joe could tell he was going to be a major problem. And Joe didn’t need any more problems when he was worried sick about Cara. He got on the elevator. “I’ll get you those videos, but I want to see her room first before forensic gets here. What floor?”
Dark Tribute--An Eve Duncan Novel Page 4