Trust No One (Vista Security)

by Diana Layne

  “If I’d tried to kill you, you’d be dead.” She lined up the barrel with his forehead. “Next one’s a bulls eye.” She eased back the hammer with a click.

  He must have read the intent in her gaze. “Hey, wait, lady–”

  “Put the shotgun on the counter. Carefully, so it doesn’t discharge. You don’t want to scare me into pulling the trigger.”

  After Boomer put the shotgun down, she told the clerk, “Place the weapon on the floor behind the counter.” She pulled her cell phone with her left hand, punching 911.

  She didn’t have any confidence the clerk could manage the phone call. Still visibly shaking, he looked quite green as if at any moment he was going to toss tonight’s dinner.

  “What’s the address?” she asked. When he told her, she added, “Why don’t you go splash water on your face, catch your breath.” He stumbled his way toward the back. MJ gave the dispatch the information then settled down to wait on the police.

  By the time the cops arrived, and she’d given her statement and signed all the papers, almost two hours to the minute elapsed. When she finally drove out of the parking lot, the sun had long since risen high in the sky. At least she got a free large coffee and a sandwich for her trouble. She pulled out her phone to call Angel, but saw the battery low signal. Figured.

  She plugged her phone into the car charger and turned back to the highway.

  Chapter 9

  Early afternoon found MJ about an hour away from her destination, and looking for a place to buy food. Lauryn wasn’t domestic in the least, had never been warm and welcoming, and MJ didn’t expect that to have changed with Ed’s death. Tasha, cold and reserved herself, didn’t seem to mind Lauryn’s lack of warmth, but MJ, used to her own mom’s hugs, found Lauryn a hard adjustment.

  At a busy truck stop, MJ slid out of the car and stretched stiff muscles. The sun shone warmer than earlier, but the cold, crisp air definitely hinted promise of winter.

  After a pit stop, and buying a turkey sandwich, spicy chips and a cold drink with an extra shot of caffeine, MJ called Dottie and learned Angelina was down for a nap—she had been cranky and asking for MJ since waking up in a strange bed.

  MJ’s chest twisted into a tangled ball of pain. Poor Angelina. MJ knew all too well what it was like to miss the ones you loved. Only in her case, her parents hadn’t come back.

  She would return for Angelina.

  Chomping at the minutes ticking away, she planned to eat on the road, not wanting to waste any more time. With a quick bite of her sandwich and a check of her map, MJ put her Mustang into gear.

  The road stretched endlessly, the miles of driving wearing. This last hour seemed longer than all the others combined. The ominous feeling that she would be hunting for Tasha forever and would never get back home nagged at MJ.

  Heavier traffic at Indianapolis demanded extra attention and gave her something to temporarily focus on besides frustration. She began to look for exits and street signs to find the right neighborhood. Lauryn technically lived in Carmel, a little suburb north of Indy, and MJ found the place without any trouble. At last. Maybe now she could find some answers.

  MJ checked the address and pulled into the driveway of a sleek, two-story brown brick house. She didn’t see a car in the driveway and with the closed garage door there was no way to tell if Lauryn—or anyone—was home. For all MJ knew, Lauryn could have remarried and moved.

  Earlier when MJ had called no one answered. She’d left a message, figuring Lauryn was likely volunteering, her usual distraction. MJ parked her car and made her way to the front of the house. Lauryn opened the door just as MJ’s finger touched the doorbell.

  “Good, you made it. I haven’t had a chance to return your call. I have to leave again soon.”

  Hello to you, too, MJ thought. Lauryn definitely hadn’t changed. At least in manners. Looks, however, there was a subtle difference. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a severe style, which left gray showing at the temples. That shocked MJ. She always pictured Lauryn to be a cover-the-gray kind of woman.

  “I don’t know where Tasha is,” Lauryn said, turning to head down the hallway, not bothering to invite MJ inside. She kept talking, as if she expected MJ to follow, which she did.

  “She mailed you a letter, said to hold it for you.”

  MJ mentioned in her message the need to find Tasha, not wanting her surrogate mother to think this was a social visit. “A letter? For me?”

  Lauryn’s heels clicked on the tiled hallway. “Said you’d be here eventually to pick it up in person. I’d forgotten about it until you called.”

  “How long ago?” Maybe MJ could put together some sort of timeline to tell when this mess started.

  “Not too long after Ed died. I think. Time is a little fuzzy from then.” To Lauryn’s credit, her voice hitched, as if a knot had blocked her airway.

  A small lump lodged in MJ’s throat as well.

  “She stayed here a few days,” Lauryn discreetly cleared her throat and continued, “and went through some of Ed’s papers, attended the funeral, then left. A month or so later, the letter came."

  “What papers?” And why had Lauryn allowed Tasha to rummage through Ed’s personal papers?

  “Papers he gathered for you kids. I’m not sure what they were about.” She turned the corner and led the way into Ed’s office. “Most likely something related to work. You know Ed retired, but he never really stopped working. He lived that business.”

  Unlike MJ, Ed had never been happy retired, had never taken well to relaxing. The last time she’d seen him, right before her last mission for Vista, he’d looked tenser than she’d ever seen him. That he died of a heart attack a few months later hadn’t come as a surprise. The odd idea occurred to her that something in those papers might have set Tasha off on this supposed killing spree. If it were something that bad, perhaps the information contributed to Ed’s heart attack.

  Nah. Mentally MJ shook her head. She was being too paranoid, even for someone who had been trained to be paranoid.

  “May I see those papers?”

  “Tasha took them.”

  More and more curious. Why hadn’t she mentioned it when they were playing chase?

  “What about Niko, was he here?”

  “He was here, too.”

  MJ wondered about the papers, why Tasha had them, and why Niko had never mentioned anything about this. Did he know?

  “Then Niko saw the papers as well?”

  Lauryn shrugged in a manner indicating she’d wasted enough time. “I don’t know. I suppose it’s likely he did.”

  MJ processed the thought that Niko knew and hadn’t told her. An unreasonable feeling of being betrayed swept through her. She couldn’t even trust the ones she loved.

  At Ed’s desk, Lauryn rubbed her hand across the top of the polished wood surface, a distant, soft look shone in her eyes as if touching the inanimate object brought back memories of Ed. Lauryn was showing emotions she’d never revealed when MJ shared their home. Had Ed’s death opened the woman’s heart to reveal a vulnerable human?

  Immediately, MJ’s cynical thoughts caused a trickle of remorse. She had her own memories of Ed at his desk, tie loosened perhaps, but never off, staring at the computer monitor, his marvelous brain working on the latest crisis. Why would his wife be any different with her own memories?

  With a barely audible sniff, Lauryn came back to the present and opened the top right drawer. She handed MJ the letter. The typed address looked oddly formal and out of place. Why did Tasha send it here when she had so easily found her in Texas?

  “I’ll be here for a little longer. If you need to stay, I’ll get you a spare key.”

  There was no ‘I’d be happy to have you spend the night’, or ‘plan on staying for dinner’. Lauryn offered bare minimum as usual, but that was Lauryn, and MJ hardly gave it a second thought.

  Once alone in Ed’s office, she walked around the room, tracing her fingers over the cherry bookshelves and ma
tching desk. While this wasn’t the same house she’d grown up in, this was still Ed’s furniture, and she could almost swear she felt his presence hovering over her, making sure she learned what she needed. Had he set this up before his death, then? Leaving behind papers for some nefarious purpose to turn their lives upside down? No answers in speculating.

  With a shrug, she leaned against a bookshelf, opened the envelope and pulled out Tasha’s letter, hoping for some answers.

  Dear little sis:

  If you’ve come to visit, enjoy your stay. If you’ve come looking for me, don’t worry, I’ll see you soon if I haven’t already. It might help to relax a bit, go fishing even. I know how we used to get bored and managed to get into trouble on every vacation, but perhaps the years have changed you. If not, stay out of trouble until I get there. Catch some fish.

  Vacation? MJ drove halfway across the country to read a letter Tasha left about vacations? There’d only been a few family vacations at a cabin Ed bought, but rarely took time off from work to use. Each time they went there, MJ and Tasha did manage to get into trouble; but mainly because it was Tasha who bored easily and MJ went along to try to keep up with the older, beautiful girl. Tasha and the great outdoors never made a compatible pairing.

  One time, Tasha had managed to talk MJ into hiking to the road so they’d be able to hitchhike back to the house. All they managed to do was get lost in the woods, which forced Niko and Ed to track them down.

  What was Tasha thinking now? Having experience with the troublemaker, the question made MJ leery.

  Then she realized she might not have understood Tasha’s letter. After all this time, did Lauryn still own the cabin? MJ straightened and left Ed’s office and turned down the hall to find Lauryn.

  MJ took note of her surroundings while she moved through the house. Everything was as she expected. Neutral color scheme, clean and organized to the point of military precision. Surely Annie had retired by now, but Lauryn must have replaced the housekeeper. MJ couldn’t picture Lauryn cleaning house herself.

  At the family room, which blended into the large kitchen with top of the line stainless steel appliances MJ bet were rarely used, the floor changed from plush beige carpet back to the same multi-toned tan tile in the hallway. Lauryn sat at the breakfast table, by the requisite bay window, sorting through a stack of mail.

  “I sold it,” Lauryn said in answer to MJ’s question about the cabin. “A buyer approached out of the blue. I’d forgotten about the thing.”

  “Oh.” Now what? If the cabin was gone, what could Tasha’s cryptic letter mean?

  “I hated that thing, only too glad to let it go.” Lauryn continued thumbing through the day’s mail. She stopped, pulled an envelope from the stack and handed it to MJ.

  “Thanks,” MJ said with her poker-face in place, taking yet another typewritten envelope addressed to her as if it were ordinary for her to be receiving mail there. She felt a key shape beneath her fingers. “I’m going to look around in Ed’s office a bit more,” she said not making mention of the new letter. Or the contents of the other letter.

  Lauryn stared at MJ but refrained from asking questions. Perhaps living with Ed so long taught her it didn’t pay to be inquisitive.

  “Will you be leaving immediately?” Lauryn asked, then hurriedly added, “I suppose that sounded rude.”

  No, it sounded typical.

  “I asked because I’ll be leaving soon for a dinner meeting. If you plan on staying, I can order–"

  “If I planned on staying, I wouldn’t mind fending for myself.” MJ kept a pleasant look on her face. No time to waste over something as petty as being run off. She had showed up uninvited, after all. “As it is, I’ll be leaving within the hour. I’m sorry I can’t stay and visit longer.”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t find anything helpful.”

  MJ fingered the key shape through the envelope. “I found enough to know I’m going to have to keep looking."

  “I’ve got to get ready for my dinner, then. If you need anything else–"

  “I’ll find you, thanks.” MJ went back to the study and this time took the liberty to sink into Ed’s well-worn leather desk chair, the seat still bowed from years of molding around his body. Aged to perfection he’d say before lifting her onto his knee. At the time, she was the only one still young enough to be lifted onto anyone’s knee, something that quickly changed. Still, at the time it had offered her a bit of comfort and security as he must have known it would.

  MJ let the leather scent fill her lungs as she took a deep breath. Releasing it a moment later as a sigh, she reminisced.

  Ed might not have been a born Bill Cosby type father, but he did step into fatherhood as well as anyone could have expected. Time and distance had erased too many memories of her real father, and those memories of Ed were about all she had.

  And yet they served no purpose now, other than a moment to remember and mourn. On so many levels she regretted not being able to attend Ed’s funeral. But perhaps it was best, since she hadn’t seen the casket resting beside an open grave, it was easier to imagine him still alive and at work. Maybe not healthy, but easier to deal with given all the challenges life had thrown her way these last few years.

  And with that she recalled just why she was here in Indianapolis sitting in Ed’s chair. Sighing, she turned her attention to the envelope addressed to her—no postmark, the stamp hadn’t been cancelled—not the handiwork of the mailman.

  With reluctance, MJ tore open the envelope, more than certain she didn’t want to know what Tasha had left. The key she’d felt was wrapped in a piece of paper which turned out to be a map. At the top, in Tasha’s handwriting read: “Enjoy your stay.”

  MJ looked at the map. So Tasha had been the one who’d bought the cabin. MJ had never actually driven to the cabin, but she knew the general area. Guess she was about to get her first experience.

  Of course, this meant more driving, more searching, more time away. MJ’s neck muscles tensed, she needed sleep. Why the hell was Tasha dragging this out? Her natural tendency for being in charge and control? A hankering for drama?

  Nothing really made sense.

  If MJ were in the unlikely position of killing senators, she wouldn’t want to risk a chance of being found. And here Tasha was giving her a map? What did Tasha want MJ to know? What had been in those damn papers that Tasha had taken?

  If only MJ knew where Nikolai was, he would help her track his sister. But Tasha had indicated she knew her brother was missing. What was the story there? Too many questions, not enough answers.

  MJ laid her head on the desk, the smooth wood cool beneath her cheek. Maybe she should find a hotel and some sleep first before she drove for another hour to the cabin, and then something might make sense. Tasha. Nikolai.

  Ah, Niko, she sighed. Her eyes drifted shut. Memories of him held a special place in her heart. First lovers always did.

  * * *

  MJ heard the faint sound of a phone ringing in another room. She opened her eyes, blinked, still immersed in feelings as satisfying as sinking into a warm bubble bath.

  Most of the time she kept memories of Niko buried far into the recesses of her heart, only bringing them out occasionally to examine.

  All too soon Niko had graduated from college summa cum laude and just as planned got his first Vista assignment. An overseas assignment to Russia, of course.

  They both understood, without discussing it, that the work they’d do for Vista was demanding and dangerous, and they would likely be in different parts of the world and never have time to continue even a part-time relationship. So MJ kissed Niko goodbye and watched him drive off to his new life.

  After that, they would go months, sometimes years, without crossing each other’s paths other than an occasional phone call. And while their time together had been special, something she treasured, they were often painful to examine. A promise of something out of reach. Something she’d tried to create with Keith and failed miserably. Yea
h, like she’d never try that again.

  She’d thought more of Niko in the last days than she’d thought of him in months.

  She understood Niko, but she never managed to understand Tasha. Not then. Not now. Especially not now. MJ had no clue what the hell the woman was trying to accomplish. And she wouldn’t find any more answers here. Time to move on.

  MJ pushed away from Ed’s desk, gave a final look around the room, and tracked down Lauryn one last time. After saying her goodbyes, she opened the front door, irritated that more than likely she was venturing on a trail to nowhere. Forced to go on a path to who knew where, with simply no choice in the matter.

  And, if she pulled the front door shut a little harder than she should, who could blame her?

  * * *

  Sweat oozing out of his pores, muscles shaking with fatigue, and his shoulder burning like hot coals had been packed into the wound, Ben blinked the haze away from his eyes and checked the GPS tracking system. MJ’s car had been stopped again for almost two hours now. Did that mean she’d found Tasha already or had she stopped to rest? If she hadn’t stopped earlier, he’d have never gotten this close.

  As much as Ben wanted this damn job over, he hoped MJ hadn’t caught up with Tasha yet. He needed a few hours sleep and another painkiller. Or a shot of whiskey. Man, wasn’t that a bitch. Dealing with a gunshot and an alcohol craving. Who would’ve thought?

  As Ben followed the GPS tracking signal, he turned into a housing division, losing hope that she’d stopped at a hotel. The next best thing would be that she was waiting for Tasha to show up, and he’d have time to take a nap. And, worse case, if Tasha were there, he’d have to figure out a way to get them both back to Vista.

  But all his hopes for a nap were dashed as he pulled up to a two story brick house. MJ’s pink Mustang was parked in the driveway. Good. But she had key in hand, obviously about to unlock the door, climb in and leave. As he pulled into the driveway behind her car, she turned to look.