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Masters of the Castle: Witness Protection Program

Page 88

by Maren Smith


  “No. I know you were ordered to let it happen. I know there are more lives at stake than just hers.” She choked back a sob and sighed heavily. “I know all that, but I just can’t do it.”

  What could he say? She was right. His superiors were asking him to do the unthinkable. Any normal human being with a conscience would balk. A fist clenched around his heart like a vise. “This is my job, honey. I can’t just let it go, but I’m going to do my best to keep her safe.”

  Choking out a laugh past her tears, she said, “Your job sucks. But don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul. With my luck, I’d get arrested for interfering with an investigation.”

  She’d been making a joke, but was more right than she knew. “All right. Finish your breakfast and I’ll take you back to your room after we talk.”

  “I—”

  “There’s something I want to tell you before you go.” He had been specifically ordered not to share this with her because it was still an ongoing investigation, but it might make her feel better. “With your help, my handler found out who is supplying Carmen. We don’t have him yet, but your information made it possible for us to look in the right place.”

  Holly visibly relaxed and a fleeting look of satisfaction drifted across her face. “Good. I’m glad I could help.”

  He couldn’t tell her about the explosives, but maybe he could set her mind at ease just a little. “I also took some steps to help Grace. I’m pretty sure I did enough that she won’t get hurt today.”

  Her shoulders dropped and she breathed out slowly. “Thank you for trying. I know what it must have cost you to go against your orders.”

  Nodding, he said, “There’s something else I wanted to tell you.” Leaning toward her, he caught her hand and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “I’ve thought about you ever since the day I helped you escape from Carmen.”

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t understand. Why?”

  Bringing her hand to his lips again, he kissed her palm. “Because you always had a smile for everyone, even though I could tell you knew what Carmen was.” He stroked her hair, marveling at how a curl twisted around his hand. “Because even when you escaped, you walked out with your head up, no matter what ugly things Carmen and I said about you.” He touched her cheek, loving how she leaned into his hand. “Because your beautiful eyes fascinate me. I could look into them for hours.” He stopped before he said something he couldn’t take back. “And because you were strong enough to get out and keep yourself safe.”

  Holly blinked and her lips parted in surprise. “Wow. That’s… Um… I have no idea what to say, but thank you.”

  He let go of her hand and leaned back, careful to keep his hands to himself lest he keep touching her. “I know it doesn’t help much, but after today, you can leave and do whatever you want. Carmen won’t ever come after you again.”

  She snorted. “That’s because he thinks you killed me already.”

  Giving her a faint smile, he said, “Yes, there is that.”

  Her breakfast untouched, Holly stood. “I’m… um… It’s time for me to go.” Leaning over, she kissed his cheek before hurrying out, her bare feet flashing as she trotted out the door.

  Ignoring the food, he rubbed his face and swallowed a cup of coffee as he watched her leave. It was time to get to work. Leaving his luggage in the room, he walked down the stairs.

  As he passed down the hall, a hand latched on the front of his vest and jerked him to the side. He scowled down at the small, feminine fingers and grabbed her wrist in a hard grip. She was short and beautifully curved with streaked brown hair and terrified brown eyes.

  Wrapping his free hand around her neck, he pushed her against the wall and asked, “Who the fuck are you and what do you want?”

  Her lips trembled and tears spilled from her eyes as she asked her question. Flint sighed and told her where she could find her idiotic brother, hoping he’d made it clear to her what happened to little girls who got mixed up in dangerous games. Maybe telling her what she’d been so obviously desperate to hear would grant him some karma, but he didn’t have time to worry about it now.

  Hoping he wouldn’t run into any more distractions, he headed outside and into the hedge maze. No one was out there this early in the morning, and it was time for him to call his handler for an extraction. Mario Ricci was finished here, and he’d done as much as he could to protect two innocent women caught up in the shitstorm following Carmen. He just wished he’d had the nerve to tell Holly what he felt about her, but it was best if she didn’t know.

  Keeping her head down, Holly crept to the dormitory, thankful that Master David had let her keep her key card. Knowing the Little Maids would already be at work, she wasn’t surprised to find the room empty.

  She went into the communal bathroom and braided her wet hair, unwilling to deal with it. She couldn’t wait until the color washed out. Thank God it wasn’t permanent. If it had been, she might have shaved it off. The bruises on her face were beyond concealer; they were too dark and swollen for makeup to hide. Her head started to ache again, and she grimly swallowed one of the pills the doctor gave her. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need them past today.

  Dragging herself to her cot, she collapsed and pulled the covers over her head. Since she’d had a guest program this weekend, she’d have the whole day to herself, and she planned to spend it moping in bed.

  It occurred to her to put on street clothes and go for a drive but she couldn’t muster the energy. What she really wanted was privacy, ice cream, and wine. She could maybe do the ice cream, but the other two things weren’t available in the Castle.

  And why was she moping? She’d known nothing would come of a relationship with Flint. She didn’t want any more dangerous men in her life, damn it! Her next boyfriend would be someone safe who didn’t carry a gun.

  Yes, but he kept your ass safe here and when you were with Carmen, didn’t he?

  She buried her head deeper under the covers, telling her conscience to shut the fuck up. Closing her eyes, she tried to empty her mind enough to sleep. She scowled and reached over to the bed neighboring hers and stole a teddy bear. Pulling it to her chest, she inhaled the fragrance of lavender and lily of the valley. She let herself drift, soothed by the calming scents.

  Damn Flint and his job, and his stupid duty to his country anyway. She didn’t need him. But fuck, she wanted him. There had been many things in her life she wanted and couldn’t have. A second helping of dessert. A pony when she’d been five and living overseas with her military family. A chance to spend all four years in one high school. But she’d lived through those small disappointments. Giving up Flint was best for both of them, even though it hurt.

  Tears pricked at her eyes and she let them fall.

  A concussive boom made Holly jerk awake as the fire alarms started blaring. Clouds of dust fell from the ceiling, but she saw no flames. Stripping out of the scrubs she’d been given, she dressed hurriedly in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before slipping her feet into low-heeled boots. Though she probably shouldn’t have taken the time, she grabbed her emergency bag on the way out. It held her passport, several thousand dollars in cash, and everything she would need to start her life somewhere else.

  She glanced at her phone before shoving it into her pocket. It was noon, meaning the guests who were leaving were already outside. She hurried down the stairs, helping to herd the guests who were staying longer. The double doors of the main entrance were wide open, allowing guests and employees to exit in a controlled fashion as the alarms blared.

  Glancing around, she saw her friends from the Little Maids program and the kitchen staff. Master David and Meghan were already out, and it looked like all the other resident Masters and their wives and girlfriends had made it out, too. She let out a sigh of relief and made her way to the entrance of the gardens to keep out of the way of emergency responders.

  Looking up, she saw a blackened hole where a window would have been on the third floor. Whose room had it
been? She scanned the crowd once more, but there was too much confusion. Three different ambulances departed for the hospital with lights flashing and sirens singing out the urgency. She had no idea who they took with them and it was impossible to tell who might be missing.

  Her eyes narrowed as a couple walked out, holding on to one another. The sobbing woman wore a Little Maid costume, and Holly recognized her as a new hire who happened to be hearing impaired. Both were covered in black dust, and paramedics rushed to assist the couple down the stairs. They appeared to be well enough, but it was obvious they’d been caught in whatever had happened on the third floor. She had no idea where the girl’s service dog was.

  She looked around, hoping to see one of the house Masters. When she spotted Master Marshall by an ambulance, she trotted over to meet him. To her shock, Kaylee was lying on a stretcher, her arms clasped protectively around her belly as she was loaded into the back to be rushed away.

  “Can you tell me what happened, sir?” Holly asked.

  Master Marshall rubbed his face, his attention never wavering from his wife. “There was an explosion in one of the rooms on the third floor.”

  Holly’s stomach heaved and she caught Master Marshall’s arm when her knees threatened to buckle. Flint had been up there, and she could well imagine him trying to save people even at the cost of his mission.

  Kaylee let out a soft groan, dragging Marshall’s attention away. “I’m sorry, Holly.” He patted her hand and removed it from his arm. “I need to go with Kaylee now. Please find one of the other Masters if you need care.”

  Straightening her spine, Holly said, “No, I’m fine. I was in the Maids’ quarters. I’ll follow behind the ambulance in case someone needs help.”

  Marshall didn’t answer. He was too busy with his wife. Picking up her duffel bag, Holly raced to the employee parking lot and was on the road only a few minutes after the next caravan of departing ambulances.

  The wait was interminable. Too many people had gotten hurt because of one sick little fucker’s psychopathic behavior. Though she’d heard whispers that Carmen had been killed, Holly didn’t trust the information. She wouldn’t truly believe it until she saw his corpse. Carmen was too wily—too slippery to get caught in his own bomb. They called him The Butcher. She’d never heard him called that before, but the nickname fit.

  Most of the Masters were there, along with several submissives. Holly spent a moment checking on each one, bringing coffee to those who wanted it. She breathed a huge sigh of relief when one of the doctors told Marshall that Kaylee’s labor had been stopped, thanking the heavens Kaylee and her baby would be okay.

  One of the other Little Maids, a new hire Holly didn’t know, had been badly injured and was in surgery. Master Grimsley was uncharacteristically emotional as he waited to hear if she would be okay. Holly tried to hide a small grin. Though the circumstances were awful, it was wonderful to see Grimsley in the process of falling in love.

  When a door opened, allowing another doctor to come in, everyone looked up, painful hope in their eyes. “Do I have a next of kin for Mario Ricci?” he asked.

  Holly nearly dropped the coffee she’d brought for Jackson, thrusting it into his hands as she trotted to meet the doctor. “Me,” she said. “Is he okay?”

  “And you are?” he asked.

  “Holly Dansen. He’s my… fiancé.” She stared straight into the doctor’s eyes, daring him to call her on the lie, though she wished it had been the truth.

  The physician rubbed his face and looked down before pulling her into a quiet corner. “I’m very sorry, Ms. Dansen. Mr. Ricci died of his injuries.”

  Holly dropped to her knees, the sound of the doctor’s voice fading to vague white noise in her head. She howled in anguish, punching Master Jackson when he tried to pick her up. Flint had given everything for his job. For her. He would get no recognition, no funeral befitting a hero. His employers would make it like he’d never been.

  And she’d never told him she loved him.

  She struggled free of Jackson’s embrace, backing away a few steps when he reached for her again. “I’m sorry, Master Jackson. I quit.”

  Chapter 16

  “Thank you, Special Agent Turner. Your report has been most helpful for our investigation.” Agent Daniel Morris, the HSA agent to whom Flint had been loaned, gathered the pages of his report and tapped them on the desk. “Your help is appreciated, but we have no need for your assistance any further.”

  “Yes, sir.” His mind wasn’t on the debriefing, though. Holly filled his thoughts. She’d have already been told he died in the explosion. Agents dressed as paramedics would have feigned retrieving a corpse and identified it as his to the resort staff. He was driven away in a black van with tinted windows under heavy guard.

  Was she sad? Relieved? He didn’t know, but it would be better for her if she thought he’d died. She needed someone safe. Someone who wouldn’t put his duty ahead of his love for her.

  “Given your recent resignation, I also want to remind you that you are still bound by your security clearance. You may not share the details of this investigation with anyone.” Agent Morris looked over the rim of his reading glasses and added, “Is that clear, Special Agent Turner?”

  “Of course, sir. I understand.” He shook Morris’s hand and walked out of the conference room. His superior waited at the door.

  Patting Flint’s shoulder, Agent Case McKenna led him down the corridor toward his office. His hands behind his back as he walked, he said, “I’m about half tempted to refuse your resignation, Turner. You’re one of my best field agents.”

  Flint waited while Case opened the door. When they were inside, Flint seated himself in front of the desk. “Sorry, sir. After this assignment, I don’t have it in me to go undercover again.”

  Case grimaced and pushed aside his copy of the report. “Understood. That one was ugly. I can’t believe Homeland Security was willing to sacrifice two witnesses, especially when Ms. Dansen was so helpful.” He paused and took a sip of coffee from the mug on his desk. “Could I tempt you into teaching at Langley? We could use your skills there. If that sounds boring, you’d make a good handler for other agents.”

  Case must not remember what it was like in the field. If he did, he wouldn’t have made such an idiotic comment. “I’m afraid not, sir. I may consider your offer of a teaching position in the future, though.”

  Giving Flint a piercing stare, Case said, “Fair enough. You have my number if you want to keep in touch.” Standing, he held out his hand. “Good luck to you, Flint.”

  Returning the handshake, Flint said, “Thank you, sir.”

  Once he’d gotten free of his former team, he inhaled the clean air outside Langley. It was a beautiful day in the beltway. He was free of his badge and his service pistol; weights on his soul that had dragged him down for too long. Whistling a tune, he started walking until he found a place to catch a cab to the airport. There was a first-class ticket waiting to take him back to Oklahoma.

  “Got you, you sexy bastard.”

  In an unremarkable extended stay hotel room in Toledo, a woman with dyed red hair and mismatched eyes leaned back in her chair, smirking at the laptop screen in front of her.

  How many ranchers named Turner were in Oklahoma? The puppy at her feet looked up, then went back to sleep when she didn’t say anything else.

  Quite a few, as it turned out, but only one of them fit what she was looking for. Flint’s Jamaican mother stared at her from a social media posting. Though the account was locked down, her profile image and location were visible. Mrs. Turner was freaking gorgeous, too. Her flawless mahogany skin was darker than her son’s, and it was obvious where he’d gotten his looks. Holly prayed she’d age half that well.

  Flint’s father was a cheerful looking Nordic blond with an easy smile and sunny blue eyes. In the photo, his hand was firmly buried in his wife’s shoulder-length locks, pulling her head to his shoulder. They were charming and obviously deeply in
love.

  After she’d had time to cool down, Holly had thought about the situation. Flint’s superiors would have wanted him out of the Castle. What better way to make him disappear than to fake his death? She had no idea what happened to Carmen. She hadn’t stuck around the Castle to find out, but Flint had promised her that he’d be neutralized.

  And Flint always kept his word. Holly checked out of the hotel and got into her car. It was a long drive to Oklahoma and time was wasting. Sprout yipped at her from the passenger seat and she smiled down at the puppy. The Littles had called the St. Bernard mix ‘Sprout.’ Too funny for words. His feet were already the size of salad plates, and he was barely six months old.

  Two days later, she crossed the cattle gate leading into the ‘Twisted T’ ranch. White-faced cows grazed on either side of the lane, contained by split rail fencing. As she drove, a white clapboard farmhouse loomed over an expansive garden filled with wildflowers and roses.

  She parked next to a dusty pickup and hooked Sprout’s leash to his collar before getting out. He bounded out behind her, lowering his head as he sniffed at her feet.

  A man wearing a white t-shirt, a pair of hard-worn jeans, and a cowboy hat sauntered up, his thumbs hooked in his belt. He took off his hat, and said, “Welcome to the Twisted T. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

  Flint’s father looked just as cheerful in person as he had in his photograph. “My name is Holly Dansen. I’m looking for Flint Turner. Is he here?”

  Mr. Turner’s eyes narrowed and he said, “How do you know my son, miss?”

  “We met at a resort in Ohio a few weeks ago. I wanted to tell him something.”

  “You drove all the way out here for that?” Shaking his head, he smiled. “Flint always did get the prettiest girls—aside from his mother, of course. He’s out on the back range now, but he should be back in an hour or two.” He held out a hand. “I’m Amos Turner. Why don’t you come inside and my wife Lietta will get you a glass of tea.”

 

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