When I Find You: A Trust No One Novel

by Brown, Dixie Lee

  For a heartbeat, he pulled back in surprise. Then his eyes darkened, he grabbed her around the waist, and jerked her against his hard length. The warmth of his lips meeting hers fanned a flame in her soul she hadn’t known was there. Almost immediately, the gentle kiss turned hungry and then demanding as his tongue plunged into her mouth and teased hers. In that moment, he could have asked anything. She was lost in a seductive storm of his making.

  Suddenly, he grabbed her arms and set her away from him, a look of disgust on his face.

  “Darcy, trust me, you don’t want to go there.” His voice was gruff and angry.

  So drunk on his taste and smell and the feel of his arms around her, it was a moment before she understood what was happening. When she did, she dropped her gaze, too embarrassed to look at him . . . too humiliated to stand in front of him and stare at the ground. Without a word, she turned and trudged up the path to the car.

  The rest of the drive was spent looking out the passenger window, seeing nothing but his angry expression. He didn’t speak either. In the space of ten seconds she’d ruined their day and the friendship she’d thought had begun to grow between them. God, what an idiot she was. If he’d thought her immature before, she’d just proved him right. He’d be glad to see the last of her now.

  In the town of Gold Beach, they turned east and drove up a winding dirt road to the top of a hill. A sprawling, contemporary-style home was built among the trees, brush, and rocks. Walker seemed to know where to look for the key, retrieved it, and opened the front door. With his backpack over his shoulder, he preceded her inside and turned off the security alarm.

  The house was just as nice on the inside, decorated in natural wood with a rustic style. Walker strode toward the back of the house while Darcy stepped into the living room to the left of the entrance. Two high-backed chairs and an overstuffed couch faced large picture windows, each with a different view of the ocean in panoramic splendor. Mesmerized by the beauty of the ocean, she walked slowly across the room until she stood before the windows.

  “Darcy Maddox? I was beginning to think you weren’t coming after all.”

  She gasped and pivoted to face the stranger who rose from one of the high-backed chairs she’d passed without looking on her way to the windows. A brown-haired man, late thirties, whose suit jacket seemed too big on his lean frame, watched her with calculating blue eyes. She stopped breathing as her gaze followed his hand when he reached inside his jacket. From the corner of her eyes, Walker glided quickly toward her, his gun drawn. He motioned her back, and she put as much distance between her and the stranger as she could before the wall stopped her retreat.

  “Don’t move, or you’re a dead man,” Walker growled.

  The man didn’t move, except to bring his hands slowly up.

  “Turn around.”

  “Who are you?” The man’s gaze darted from Walker to Darcy and back again.

  “You first.”

  “Deputy U.S. Marshal Brian Cooper. I’m here to take charge of Ms. Maddox.”

  “Drop your gun on the floor and kick it over here. Then show your creds.”

  Deputy Cooper did exactly as he was told and, when he held up his badge, Walker swore and lowered his gun. “How the hell did you get in here?”

  “Found the key out front. The alarm was a little more difficult, but I’m not without certain talents . . . same as you. My supervisor said you’d be along, so I thought I’d just wait.” He dropped his badge back in his inside coat pocket.

  Darcy’s wobbly legs gave out and she slid down the wall to the floor.

  Walker picked up the deputy’s gun, slid the clip out, and set both pieces on the coffee table. “You almost died today. They’re not making deputy U.S. marshals very smart these days, are they?” A look passed between them that Darcy couldn’t identify, but Cooper smirked as Walker turned toward her.

  His dark, impenetrable eyes softened and filled with concern as soon as they met hers. “It’s okay. He’s on our side.” He walked toward her, knelt down in front of her, and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. Then he leaned close. “Put your game face on.”

  She took the hand he offered and let him help her up. The sting of his rejection still sharp in her mind, she pulled her hand free, straightened her spine, smoothed her features into the semblance of a smile, and walked to the center of the room. She shook the stranger’s hand. “What now, Deputy Cooper?”

  Chapter Six

  * * *

  WALKER BUSIED HIMSELF making coffee while he kept a watchful eye on Darcy and Cooper as the deputy interviewed her at the dining room table a few feet away. Deputy Cooper had gotten the basic questions out of the way. What was her relationship with Johnny Fontana? How long had she been in his employ? Was she aware of his criminal activity? Standard questions and ones any defense attorney with any credibility would ask the witness whose testimony could land his client in prison.

  Walker knew the drill and knew the questions would get more intense . . . and more personal. He observed Darcy carefully for signs of fatigue or anxiety. The last two days had been nonstop stress for her. So far, she’d held up amazingly well, but he wouldn’t allow Cooper to do anything that would push her over the edge. He poured three cups of coffee, delivered two to the table, and drank his leaning back against the kitchen counter.

  “Are you sure it was Reggie Allen you saw in the house Friday night?”

  “Yes, I’m positive.”

  “Did you actually see Mr. Allen kill Johnny Fontana?”

  “No, but I heard him talking about . . .”

  “So you didn’t see Mr. Allen pull the trigger?”

  “I told you, I was upstairs when I heard the gunshots.”

  “How well do you know Reggie Allen?”

  “He came to the house a few times. We were never introduced.”

  “Would you say he was a pleasant man?”

  “No!” Her answer came loud and instantaneous, and Walker studied her until she looked at her hands.

  “You’re quite adamant about that, Ms. Maddox.”

  “What would you like me to say? Most likely he killed Johnny. I don’t think he’s pleasant at all.”

  She was back under control, but the strain in her voice was clear. Cooper didn’t seem to notice.

  “So you didn’t really like Mr. Allen?”

  “You could say that.”

  “And Mrs. Fontana? How did she feel about him?”

  “I think she was afraid of him.”

  “So it’s quite possible you and Mrs. Fontana would accuse Mr. Allen of murder simply because you don’t like him.”

  Darcy stared at the deputy and anger blazed in her eyes. Walker smiled humorlessly and waited for it.

  “Is there a question in there somewhere, Deputy Cooper, or are you answering for me too?”

  The deputy smiled, and Darcy’s eyes narrowed.

  “Ms. Maddox, were you having an affair with Johnny Fontana?”

  She gasped audibly and pushed her chair back as she stood.

  Cooper grabbed her wrist, further compounding his mistake. “Answer the question, Ms. Maddox.” He glowered up at her, holding her effortlessly as she tried to pull from his grasp.

  They both jumped when Walker slammed his empty cup down. Two strides brought him to the table and his hand encircled the deputy’s wrist.

  “Hands off.”

  “Stay out of this.” The deputy tried to shake him loose.

  Walker squeezed, his thumb and forefinger hitting pressure points in Cooper’s wrist. “I don’t think so. You’re done here.”

  Cooper swore and jerked his hand back, cradling the temporarily numbed appendage with his other hand.

  Walker reached for Darcy’s arm. “Take a walk with me.”

  She followed him out onto the deck, and he closed the sliding glass door behind them. His hand on her back, he guided her to the railing, as far from the door as possible. Darcy leaned against the wood, her eyes misting with tears. I
n front of them, the ground dropped off quickly, offering a spectacular view of a timbered hillside, the town of Gold Beach, and the ocean beyond. Forcing himself to remain calm, even though he’d like to rip the deputy’s head off, he waited for her to regain her composure.

  “Suddenly I’m glad you’re bigger and meaner.” She gave a shaky laugh.

  “It has its advantages.”

  “Why would he ask me something like that?”

  “He definitely has an attitude, but he’s not as bad as some in his profession.”

  “That’s encouraging.”

  “Remember, all you have to do is answer his questions. You don’t have to go with him. And you don’t have to testify. You can say no, and if he has a hard time with that, he can deal with me.”

  “But if I don’t testify, it’s possible Reggie will get off.”

  “True.”

  “If I do testify, they’ll put me in the witness protection program. Right? And I’ll have to leave everyone . . . Nick and Eddy . . . my parents.”

  “It won’t be easy.”

  “What if I agree to testify but refuse witness protection?”

  “That wouldn’t be smart. I doubt you’d even make it to trial. Reggie’s boss, Frank DeLuca, will make an example of you, and he probably won’t stop there. He’ll kill everyone you care about.”

  “So I either testify and never see my family again, or I don’t testify and Reggie Allen walks away a free man.”

  “There’s no guarantee Reggie will let you live even if you decide not to testify. You can place him in the house the night Johnny disappeared. As long as you’re alive, you’re a threat to him.”

  “This just keeps getting better.”

  Her breathing grew shallow, and her gaze darted from left to right as though searching for something that would ground her again. Overnight, her life had turned into a living nightmare. Walker wanted to fix everything, but he was powerless to help her. He didn’t like feeling powerless. It filled him with rage.

  Abruptly, she turned to meet his gaze. “What would you do, if you were me?”

  “I already told you. If I were you, I’d find someone I could trust and stick with him until this is over.”

  “Do you think I can trust Deputy Cooper?”

  “I’m sure he takes his job very seriously. I think you know what I meant, though. This isn’t an easy decision. You don’t have to make it today, or next week, or even next month. When you do decide, your life will never be the same. Take some time. Think it through. Make your move when you’re ready, and not until.”

  “Are you saying I could stick with you for a while longer?”

  “If you think you can trust me.”

  “Does that mean you’re not angry with me anymore?”

  “I was never angry with you, Darcy.” The sadness in her eyes tore at his heart.

  “Well, disgusted then—or put off—or repulsed—or . . .”

  “Enough. None of those things are true.” He noted her perplexed look. She really didn’t understand and she deserved an explanation. Problem was, he didn’t fully understand it himself, except that his response to her kiss was dangerous for both of them. He took the coward’s way out.

  “If you decide to stay, I’m going to teach you how to shoot and how to make sure nobody puts their hands on you like that again. But it’s up to you. What do you want to do?”

  “I’d like to stay.”

  “Good choice.” He caught her eye and nodded toward the house as he took out his cell phone. “Let’s go tell the deputy.”

  “He’s going to be mad.”

  “Probably.” He dialed and held the phone to his ear. “Hey, Joe . . . I need a little favor . . .”

  “MY ORDERS ARE to take you into protective custody, and that’s what I’m going to do.” Deputy Cooper was indeed mad. His face grew red and mottled as he ranted and paced in front of her. For the first few minutes, he’d acted professional and unemotional in the face of his failure to complete his mission, but apparently Darcy’s total lack of regard for his authority was more than he could take. She watched him cautiously as he advanced toward her.

  “Sit down, Cooper.” Walker’s voice was as cold as steel, and a dangerous glint shone in his eyes. Even Darcy found him a little frightening, so she wasn’t surprised when the deputy backed down, glowered his dissatisfaction, and reseated himself at the table.

  “Are you under duress, Ms. Maddox? Did this man . . . threaten you?”

  “For the third time—no. Look, I’m not saying I won’t testify. I just need some time to think it through. Mr. Walker has graciously offered me his protection while I do that.”

  “I’ll bet he has.” Cooper smirked and his gaze slipped from her face and roamed over her body.

  Heat swept up her neck and into her cheeks, but she refused to look away.

  A heartbeat later, Walker grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulled him up, and shoved him backward. Cooper fell over his chair and sprawled on the floor. He went for his gun, but he wasn’t quick enough. Walker twisted his arm back and up, applying pressure on the man’s shoulder with his knee until Cooper gasped with pain.

  “You owe the lady an apology,” Walker said calmly.

  “Fuck you.”

  Walker barely moved his hand, but the deputy grunted and turned white. “Now you can apologize for your language too.”

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry, Ms. Maddox. I meant no disrespect.”

  “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? If you ever go for your gun again, I’ll rip your arm off.” Walker released him and stepped back.

  Deputy Cooper slowly levered himself off the floor, getting to his feet just as his cell phone rang. He looked startled for a second, then reluctantly answered it, never taking his eyes from Walker. The conversation was somewhat lopsided with Cooper doing most of the listening. The uncertainty in his replies, coupled with the dark vendetta in his eyes as he stared at Walker, struck her as contradictory.

  “I’ve located the girl . . . there’s been a complication on this end too . . . okay, yes I understand . . . I’m sure that won’t be a problem . . . yes, sir.”

  As Cooper returned his phone to his pocket, he glared first at Darcy, then at Walker. “Apparently, your boss has some high-powered friends. I’ve been ordered to give you any assistance you might need for the protection of Ms. Maddox. You’ll be glad to know I’m at your disposal.” He took a business card from his breast pocket and tossed it on the table. “Please, do call if you have any problems.” A scornful smile belied his conciliatory statement.

  “Where are you parked?” A muscle ticked in Walker’s jaw.

  “In the garage, of course. I didn’t think it would be smart to advertise someone was moving in all of a sudden.” Cooper pulled car keys from his pocket and turned to go.

  “Made yourself right at home, didn’t you?” Walker took Darcy’s hand and winked at her as they followed the deputy from the kitchen, through the utility room, and into the two-car garage, where Cooper’s black Taurus was parked beside a silver Land Rover.

  Cooper eyed their joined hands. “Not anything like you, Walker.” He hit the garage door opener as he walked by, got in his car, and backed out without a word. He disappeared down the hill.

  Walker pushed the button to close the overhead door and pulled Darcy back inside the house.

  “I think we’ve made an enemy.” Darcy righted the chair Cooper had been sitting in.

  “Better an enemy than a friend who doesn’t know where the boundaries are.” Walker watched her closely. “Having second thoughts?”

  “No. I’m just . . . exhausted. And hungry. Are you hungry?” She smiled at the sudden amusement in Walker’s eyes. “What’s so funny?”

  He shook his head. “You’re one tough lady.”

  “I wish.”

  “Take my word for it. Come on, I want to show you something.”

  Darcy followed him back through the front room, down a hallway, and into a la
rge study. An oak desk sat in the center of the room, bookshelves lined one wall, and windows faced east with a view of the mountains in the distance. He moved to the adjacent wall and waited for her. Directly in front of them hung a painting—a young woman, barefoot in the sand, staring out to sea with one hand shielding her eyes from the sun.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “That’s not what I want you to see. Give me your hand.” He stepped slightly behind her and laced their right hands together. Slowly, he swept their fingers along the wall in front of them. “Can you feel that?”

  His hard chest and abdomen against her back and his arm stretched along hers to where their fingers intertwined made it hard to concentrate, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t what he wanted her to feel. Twice more their fingers swept the length of the wall before she could get his scent of spice from her head enough to focus on the change in the wall.

  “There’s a difference in texture the closer we get to the corner of the room.”

  “Very good. Now, pay attention.” He moved her hand across the wall again until she clearly noticed the subtle change in the grain. Abruptly, he switched direction, lifting her fingers and sliding them up the wall. He stopped when she started to search on her own.

  “The texture is different here again. It’s . . . squishy.”