Chapter 13
A Battle with Darkness
Dana Carlisle raised her arms above her head and arched her back. “Mmm,” she moaned, then let her arms flop down at her sides. A huge yawn followed her feline-like stretch. Boredom was the order of the night. There was nothing on television that she hadn’t already seen or was even remotely interested in watching.
Blowing out an exasperated breath, she got up from the couch and padded over to the window of the cabin. She clipped her fingers through the espresso-colored faux wood blinds and peeked out the window. Darkness. She called it her security sweep for the night.
When she first arrived at the cabin, she performed full gun-in-hand security sweeps of the entire house and area around it. Now she just made sure she sat tight and waited to be rescued. Something about the peace of the darkness actually made her feel whole and comforted. The sound of footsteps behind her startled her out of her reverie. It could only be one of three people, anyway. Carlisle wished that person had just stayed her ass in bed. Slowly she turned to see who was intruding on her alone time.
Carlisle’s mood blackened at the sight of Elaina on the staircase. She rolled her eyes and turned her back to the window, hoping the darkness would wrap its arms around her to make her blend into the night. She really didn’t feel like playing houseguest with Elaina right now.
Elaina shuffled her feet and moved into the kitchen. Carlisle was sure she had been seen; yet no words were exchanged. Carlisle was used to Elaina’s cold, silent treatment. Lucky for her, the kids loved her and she was able to spend the daytime playing board games and singing along with the karaoke machine.
Carlisle didn’t care too much for Elaina’s prissy attitude. She was pretty fucking ungrateful, seeing that Carlisle had picked up and agreed to protect Elaina’s unfaithful ass. Frankly, the only reason Carlisle had agreed to come out to Deep Creek Lake and stand guard over Tucker’s family was because of her deep feelings for him and concern for the well-being of his children. Either way, Carlisle didn’t like Elaina; she prayed that when all of the danger had subsided, Tucker would drop the bitch like a hot potato.
Carlisle could hear Elaina fussing around with the teakettle and rummaging through the cabinets. For the most part they avoided each other whenever possible. They were like polar opposites, circling around one another. Both were hyperaware of the other, but neither made the effort to initiate any kind of personal relationship.
There were so many days that Carlisle had been tempted to break the wall of silence that had settled between the two women—to tell her exactly what was going on. Or maybe talk about Tucker as a family man and as a professional. However, Elaina’s stony demeanor kept her at a very formal distance.
Carlisle walked back over to the little end table next to the patchwork, paisley-decorated couch and picked up her pack of cigarettes. She examined the pack. Only three more left. Shit! She’d have to go into town tomorrow. Smoking was a habit she’d reacquired in the past few weeks. She had quit back in college; but fucking around with Tucker and his government conspiracy games, Carlisle needed something stronger than caffeine to calm her nerves.
She stepped outside to light a smoke, and the cold, bitter air hit her arms. She cursed to herself when she realized her jacket hung over the back of one of the dinette chairs in the kitchen, where Elaina was playing house. Carlisle let out a long sigh. It was either go into the lion’s den to get her jacket or stand out on the blustery porch and smoke in peace. A little cold never killed anyone, right?
The crisp night air blowing off the lake immediately whipped around her face and slapped at her bare arms. Springtime up at the lake didn’t feel quite as nice as it sounded. Carlisle lit her cigarette and stepped down the three steps of the cabin porch. She took a toke and shivered. Aside from the small porch light, there was nothing but blackness in front of her.
Good thing she never left without her Glock. A few more drags off the cigarette and she felt like it wasn’t even worth it anymore. She dropped her cigarette and mashed the lit end out with her sneaker tip. Her nerves were settled, but her teeth were chattering.
Turning around swiftly, Carlisle took the three steps in one long stretch of her legs. Just as she passed the two Adirondack chairs on the porch, a sound startled her. Carlisle whipped her head to the left, toward the noise. It must be that raccoon again trying to rummage through their trash. She still went to her gun; it could also be a damn big-ass papa black bear. She listened again for the sound and heard a strange knocking noise. Carlisle crumpled her face, part aggravation, part confusion.
With a two-handed grip on her gun, she moved toward the noise. This time the sound came from her right. Something wasn’t right. Squinting her eyes against the dark, Carlisle lifted her gun and extended it out in front of her.
“Who’s out there?” she called out. There was no answer.
She moved from the other side of the porch now. Fuck it. Carlisle was going to go inside, bolt down the door and hunker down like Tucker had told her to do. Just as she reached for the doorknob, she heard the loud screams of the teakettle inside the house. She jumped, nearly peeing on herself.
Fuck Elaina and her gotdamn late-night tea sessions. Carlisle grabbed hold of the doorknob, ready to cuss Elaina out, when she saw something out of her peripheral vision. A scream lodged in the back of her throat as the shadowy figure placed a gloved hand over her nose and mouth and kicked her legs from under her. Her gun dropped with a clang. Her body went limp.
Unfortunately, with the teakettle whistling loudly on the stove, Elaina never heard the commotion. Nor did she hear the stranger’s footsteps enter the cabin.
Tuck sat outside of the Monte Carlo, drumming his fingers on his steering wheel. He checked his watch again and let out a long sigh. Candice had told him to meet her there, but she was nowhere to be found. He’d gone inside and asked for every name he could think of—Candice Hardaway (she wouldn’t be stupid enough to use that name he’d thought, but anything was possible), Candy Barton (better possibility) or Shana Bellamy (maybe she would pay homage to her dead friend). None of the names were listed in the Monte Carlo’s guest information system. Tuck went back out to his car and waited.
Candy had to know he would come. They’d shared a night together; they had a deep connection, or so he thought. In his mind’s eye he could still see the silhouette of her flat stomach, round hips and athletic legs. He remembered the tightness of her holding him captive; the possessiveness he had felt toward her when he realized no other man had touched her in such a way.
Suddenly Tuck shuddered as he thought about that night. It had been a mistake. He realized that now. He was an adult—a married man, the father of two children. Candy had been an eighteen-year-old virgin girl on a revenge mission. He had been seduced by her brains and body, but there was no real basis to their relationship. Candy was a fleeting fancy; his wife, on the other hand, was the real deal.
Tuck looked at his watch again and swore that if she didn’t show up soon, he would leave. She had already stood him up yesterday, but today he felt like he’d be able to catch her unaware. So like a crackhead who needed one last hit, he waited.
Tuck practiced what he would say to her when she arrived. “I don’t want anything from you. I don’t even want to try to stop you from killing your enemies. I just want to give you these.” That’s what he’d say; then he’d hand over Easy’s files for her safekeeping.
Tuck knew that getting Candice to trust him was a long shot, but he would still make the effort. Regardless of a one-night stand or not, Candice had serious trust issues. He told himself he was there for one thing, and one thing only: to give her the files so she would have insight into her father’s life. He owed her that much at least.
But that wasn’t entirely the whole truth, though. Candy did have good reason to suspect Tuck of ulterior motives.
At the end of his meeting with Stokes, Tuck had promised to hand Candy over to him to ensure the safety of his family a
nd himself. He’d convinced Stokes that sending in a tail or setting a trap wouldn’t work with someone like Candy.
“Trust me. Let me get her on my side and then I’ll bring her right to you,” Tuck had assured.
Being in the business of subterfuge, Stokes was highly skeptical of Tucker’s plan. Tucker reminded him that if they knew where Candy was all along, they could have easily picked her up a long time ago. But the problem was that Candy could change colors quicker than a chameleon.
“Remember, you thought you were God ... but Rock Barton and Candy Hardaway might be the bane of your existence. She trusts me already,” Tuck had argued.
Stokes had finally given in to his demands. He had few options to begin with.
“She trusts you, Agent Tucker ... but can I trust you?” Stokes asked doubtfully.
Tucker never answered his question. Instead, he took the additional Hardaway files and exited the room. It was all a guessing game, anyway; no one really knew the other’s intentions.
But actions always spoke louder than words.
Candice silently watched Tuck from a distance. What was she even doing here?
Tuck had promised her information about her father, but he could have also been setting her up. Her heart was at war with her mind. She didn’t really trust anyone from her past. The only people whom she trusted implicitly were dead.
Lately she could not stop thinking about that night. She could almost feel the same hot rush that had suffused her body when she had accepted him into her mouth, their tongues intertwining in a sensual dance.
Candice had kissed Tuck like her life depended on it. She felt a throbbing pulse between her legs, much like she had during her first time, with Tuck. It was a feeling so intense that she would’ve done anything to feel it again.
Candice closed her eyes for a split second, picturing him as he moved his hot mouth from her lips and licked his way down her neck and then to her breasts. She had shuddered, needle pricks all over her body, when Tuck had licked her areola until she lost her breath.
Tuck had grabbed his manhood and placed it gently against Candice’s moist flesh. When he bore down into her softness, Candice had felt a flash of fire between her legs, which had quickly turned into an all-out explosion of pain. She opened her mouth now, the same as she had done that night. Her body was experiencing the sensations all over again. Candice hadn’t stopped him from taking her virginity that night. And now she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Candice wanted to slap herself when she realized she had let her mind drift to the past. Shaking her head from left to right, she rubbed her arms roughly and shook off those distracting thoughts.
The first day Tuck had come to the Monte Carlo, Candice watched him, amused at his bewilderment. Did he really think she would be dumb enough to meet up with him in such a public place? She watched Tuck get frustrated at being stood up, getting in and out of his car repeatedly with the look of defeat on his face. When he left, Candice watched closely for any tails or any sign that he had brought his crooked law enforcement friends with him. To her surprise, Candice had not noticed anyone following or watching him. No red taillights, no ghosts on foot and no other people materializing from the surrounding buildings when he’d left.
Still not convinced of his claims of innocence, Candice decided to watch Tuck for one more day. Shit, if he could be undercover for so long, pretending to be a common street dude, there was no telling what type of stunt he was capable of pulling off. Candice figured there was no such thing as being too careful. So she watched for a second day. And again there was no one mysteriously buzzing around. He hadn’t met with anyone; he hadn’t spoken to anybody on the street.
Perhaps Tuck was on the up-and-up, Candice concluded. Seeing him again that day, at the DeSosa home, had flustered her so much that it had almost taken her out of her game. She wanted to be sure she could handle things emotionally before she showed herself to him again.
When Tuck’s car gurgled to life, she rushed from her hiding spot across the street from the Monte Carlo. She couldn’t be sure he’d come back for a third day looking like a desperate asshole waiting for her. He didn’t even see her coming.
The taps on the window nearly gave Tuck a heart attack. He jumped so hard that he hit his bald head on the roof of his car.
“Gotdamn!” he cried out, placing his hand over his chest in a clutch-the-pearls manner.
Candice ran around the front of the car and Tuck popped the door locks. Candice bustled into the passenger seat and hurriedly slammed the door. She shivered. Her nerves were screaming.
“You scared the shit out of me, Candy,” Tuck gasped. He was still struggling to find his breath.
She wasn’t the only one with hair trigger nerves. The fact that he seemed jumpy too made her feel superior in a silly, childish kind of way.
“Big, bad DEA agent scared of little ol’ me.” She chuckled sarcastically. Then her face got serious, and her lips twisted to the side. Tuck gave her a look that said touché. She’d scored a point for that one.
“Now, Agent Tuck, or whatever your name is, why do you want to see me so badly?” she asked. The undertone of her question was one part sassy, one part curious.
“Look, Candy, there are a lot of people looking for you right now. I am trying—”
“I don’t give a fuck who is looking for me! I am looking for them too!” Candice boomed defensively, clipping off his conversation.
“Whoa, whoa ... I’m here to help you, Candy. Everybody in the world is not out to hurt you.”
Candy’s vehemence had caught him completely off guard.
“Oh yeah? Says who? You? A fuckin’ DEA agent who lies for a living? What the fuck do you know about who is trying to hurt me? Did you lose your entire family at the hands of these motherfuckers for absolutely nothing? Because they wanted to play government war games with the lives of innocent kids?” Candy screamed.
The incredible hurt was evident behind her words. Tuck was dumbfounded.
“I’m sorry about your loss, Candy. Trust me, this is not easy for me either. I know all about being betrayed by the government ... and I was very fuckin’ loyal to them. But I need to let you know there are people after you. You should’ve listened to Barton and gotten far away from here. Forget avenging your family’s deaths. Getting away with your life is much more important,” he retorted in all honesty.
“This was a mistake,” she said, starting for the door handle. Her Glock dug into her side as she turned to make her escape.
“Wait!” he grabbed her arm.
“Don’t ever put your hands on me again!” she shot back; her gun was in her hand just as quickly.
Tuck snatched his hand back like he’d just been stung by a bee. They were back to square one.
“Candy, I just want to help you. I swear. I put my entire family in danger just to help you. Let me,” he pleaded.
Something about the pleading in his voice made her insides hot. Candice was angry with herself; she felt tears burning at the backs of her eyes. She was too fucking emotional these days.
“What did you really call me here for?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“I wanted to give you these,” Tuck told her, reaching behind him into his backseat. He pulled up a thick packet. She furrowed her forehead at the stack of papers.
“Everything you need to know is right in here. Candy, your father was in a lot of shit. I want to warn you, some of this shit is very deep. Deeper than anything Barton could’ve even imagined,” Tuck said in a foreboding tone.
Candice accepted the package, but she hesitated to look inside. She didn’t want to learn anything about her father that would change her last view of him. In her eyes he was, and always would be, a stand-up family man who commanded respect and loved her more than anything in the world.
“Where did you get this, if you weren’t working with them?” Candice asked, squinting her eyes.
“Let’s just say I have friends in high places,” T
uck replied.
“Yeah, that’s just what I was afraid of. Thanks,” she said in a low whisper.
Tuck nodded.
Before she left the car, Candice gave Tuck her cell phone number, though she didn’t plan on having it for much longer. She knew all about the government’s GPS tracking technology.
Tuck watched her disappear into the night. Now all he needed to do was get in touch with Carlisle and get his family the fuck out of Dodge.
Candice opened the notebooks as soon as she was alone. The curiosity was burning her up inside. She would read through her father’s stories, but she wouldn’t let it change her mind about what she had to do. There was still one more mission to carry out before she went ghost, once and for all.
“My Life,” she read aloud, already captivated.
Hardaway Household, 2006
Easy walked into his bedroom and found his wife sitting on the side of the bed. She had obviously heard him arguing on the telephone. The vibe in the entire house was tense, to say the least. Easy glanced at Corine and knew that this conversation would not go over well.
Corine sat stiffly upright, her body language completely closed off to him. Deep worry etched extra lines around her eyes and mouth; she seemed to have aged lately. When Corine wasn’t angry with him, she was detached and aloof in her interactions with Easy. This shit was harder than he thought it could ever be.
Getting out of the business was much harder than getting in.
“Corine, we need to talk,” Easy told her. His voice was heavy with resignation.
She shuddered a little bit and looked down at her nails, anything to distract her mind. She knew they would be having this conversation sooner or later. Corine had expressed her dislike and distrust of the Dominicans on numerous occasions. Easy never listened to her; he always brushed off her concerns.
Easy sat down on his side of the bed; she stayed on her side; neither looked at the other.
Secrets Uncovered Page 16