“Excuse me?” She sounded more suspicious than usual. “Who is this?”
“It’s Carlie.”
“Oh my God! Carlie?” She squealed with happiness. “I’ve been so worried about you. A fire totally destroyed the shop the night you left. They didn’t find a body, but I thought maybe... Oh, this is the best! I’m so glad you called.”
“Look, I can’t talk long. I just wanted to tell you that I’m safe and not to worry. I knew the fire would scare you.”
“I don’t understand. Did you set the fire to fool the assassins?”
Carlie laughed. “I wish. No. They did it. Thank heavens Nick showed up and saved me. It was a close thing. They almost succeeded.”
“But you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Can you do me a favor and tell Muhammad? I mean, don’t spread it around to anyone else, but I’m sure he’s worried. No one will find me where we are now, and Nick’s taking real good care of me. The assassins will have a hard time finding our trail.”
“That’s good.” Shelley puffed out a loud breath. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” Carlie pulled the phone away from her ear, noting forty seconds had already passed according to the timer. “I have to go. You’re the best friend I ever had. Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Wait. Can you call me later? And where are you? I want to visit.”
Tears gathered in her eyes, but Carlie forced a smile on her face so her voice would sound cheerful. “I can’t tell you where we are. I’ll try to call again if I can, but I have to go now. Goodbye.”
She hung up before Shelley could speak further, noting the timer on the phone flashed 00:51. That should be okay. No one would ever know she called, but she didn’t have to feel so bad now.
Worried that Nick would show up any moment, Carlie erased the call from the phone’s history and placed it back on his desk. She put the address book into the middle drawer where she found it and hoped she hadn’t left any evidence of her clandestine call behind as she hurried to the kitchen.
While she didn’t want to lie to Nick, this was one time where she couldn’t agree with him. The call was important to her, but it made him feel like he wasn’t man enough to keep her happy. She didn’t know how to get him to understand it had nothing to do with that.
She took a deep breath as she heard the front door opening. It didn’t matter now. Nick would never know, Shelley wouldn’t have to keep wondering what happened to her, and she could live her life here with Nick with a clean conscience.
They’d visit her parents the end of February, and Nick promised to mail money and a letter to her business partner, Bradley, when he went to Vancouver for meetings about the restaurant venture next week. Everything was taken care of now. Carlie could focus on cupcakes and karate.
Life would be perfect.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Nick collapsed onto the hotel bed the following week. Meetings took all day, and he was exhausted. The restaurateur wanted more of Nick’s money for fewer shares in the company. Negotiations would continue tomorrow. He had to admit, the plans for the building were beautiful, and with five-star food on the menu, it was sure to draw big business.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the house.
It only rang once. “Hello?”
Carlie’s breathy voice brought a smile to his face. She’d obviously been waiting for his call. “How was your day, beautiful?”
“I wondered when I’d hear from you. My day went great.”
Relief flooded through him. She sounded happy. “So the plastic surgeon thinks he can reduce the scarring on your arms and legs?”
“It’ll never be perfect, but I might not have to wear long sleeves and pants the rest of my life.”
They hadn’t talked about that much, focusing more on healing and getting her hand functional again. Nick knew it worried her, though. People judged appearances harshly, and Carlie’s dreams of a shop required her to be in front of the public. The worst burns had covered her arms from when the ceiling caved in on her. It was actually fortunate that it was her arms. It could have easily been her face instead.
“That’s good to hear,” he finally answered. “I wish I could have been there.”
“Nah, that’s okay. I handled it. You couldn’t reschedule for the restaurant, and I didn’t want to wait another three months to see the doc.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, but we’ve been able to spend a lot of time together these past few months. To tell you the truth, I’m happy I’m well enough to be away from you.”
Nick laughed. “When you put it that way, so am I. It’s also good there’ve been no signs anyone followed us to Canada. I think we’re well hidden from your pursuers. Though, truthfully, I still hate leaving you alone.”
“I was on my own for a lot of years,” she pointed out. “Now, I get to spend my whole life with you. We’ll be okay for one night. I’m finally safe from the assassins and things are looking up.”
Way up, since they successfully hid from S.A.T.O. too. “Did the doctor say when he can schedule your surgery?”
“Not until April.” Carlie sighed. “I’d like it fixed sooner, but he said my skin’s not quite ready. Besides, this guy’s in high demand. His calendar’s booked and he can’t fit me in any sooner.”
“He’s the best around. I wouldn’t send you to a hack.”
“I know that, honey. You’re too good to me.” She cleared her throat. “So, how’d your day go?”
“Very, very long.” Nick rolled onto his side and stared at the clock. It was already past seven, and his morning started before the sun rose. “I don’t want to stop talking to you, but I really need to get some room service before I fall asleep. We couldn’t come to an agreement today, so I have to meet with everyone again tomorrow before heading home.”
“It’s okay,” she answered. “I’m tired too. I think I’ll take a nice, hot bubble bath and go to sleep early.”
Nick growled playfully, feeling a bit more energetic. “Think of me in the tub?”
“You know it.”
“Great. Now I’ll have a hard time sleeping.”
“Sorry, but you’ll have to take a cold shower tonight.” She laughed.
“That’s not funny.”
“You poor thing.” She still sounded like she held back laughter. “If you get home early enough tomorrow, I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’ll be there by six,” he promised, already anxious to hold her again.
“In that case, I’ll have dinner ready and waiting. Love you, fake husband.”
He wondered if she was trying to get him to slip up again and admit he planned on asking her to marry him for real. However, if he was going to live a supposed ‘normal’ life, he wanted to do it right. He wouldn’t propose to Carlie until getting the okay from her father. The trip to Africa was only a month away. She’d have to be patient.
“I love you too, fake wife. See you tomorrow.”
***
After a long soak in the tub, Carlie pulled on flannel pajamas and swiped mist from the mirror. It seemed colder in the house without Nick. At least there was no reason to wear an ultra sexy, but freezing, teddy. She ran a brush across her hair, smiling to herself. Nick would be happy when he saw she cut it short again.
She had to admit, it was exciting how much he went after her neck now. She’d never kept her hair short before, but anything to make her man happy. And tomorrow, she’d make him extremely happy.
Humming to herself, Carlie walked out of the bathroom and turned off the lights. Time to climb into bed and have sweet dreams about her future.
Just as she lay down, the doorbell chimed, startling her.
No one ever came to visit—at least, no one besides doctors and therapists. Her heart pounded with sudden fear as her mouth dried out.
What were the chances, the one night Nick left, someone paid a visit?
The bell chimed again, followed by poun
ding on the door. “Carlie Hollis,” came a faint voice. “You’re in danger.” The pounding started back up. “We’re here because of Nick.”
Nick sent them? Did something change after they talked? Carlie held her breath, torn about what to do. Wouldn’t he have called if something was wrong? Then again, what if he couldn’t? She needed to call him. Except she never memorized the number to his new cell—it was in the address book, downstairs in his office.
She slipped out of bed and tiptoed through the house. The man outside continued shouting her name and ringing the bell, so Carlie didn’t dare turn on the lights. Just as she was about to walk into the office, the front door creaked open.
“Nice work,” the man’s gruff voice said.
“Thanks, boss.”
Boss? Nick had the number for someone marked boss in the address book. She should have asked him about it, but then she’d have to admit she found the book and called Shelley. She didn’t know who this man was, but he obviously knew Nick. That didn’t necessarily mean she could trust him.
She crept into the office, making her way by feel, and opened the bottom drawer of the desk. The pistol was loaded and ready, since Nick believed the prepared person lived longest. Although she wasn’t yet a good shot, she knew how to fire it. She’d even hit a target a few times. If these people were honestly here at Nick’s request, it wouldn’t be a problem and they’d understand being met with a gun. Otherwise, even she couldn’t miss at point-blank range. Until she knew for sure, it would be stupid to confront them without any protection.
Silently, she padded to the front entryway, flipping on the light and cocking the gun. “You boys make a habit of breaking and entering?” she asked, leveling the gun at the older man—the one with an air of power about him.
He turned and raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot. Please. We’re here for your protection. When you didn’t answer the door, I thought something horrible already happened.”
Not lowering the weapon, Carlie looked the man over, barely glancing at the dark-skinned guy beside him. The gray-haired one had to be ‘boss.’ Although his dark-blue eyes and kind smile put her in mind of someone’s grandfather, the barely-contained power surrounding him implied something else.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“My name’s Paul Billings.” He slowly lowered his hands to his sides. “Perhaps Nick mentioned me?”
She shook her head. “No, he didn’t. What are you here for, Paul?”
“I told you, I’m here to protect you.” He glanced around the room and up the stairway behind her. “Is Nick here?”
“What?” Carlie narrowed her eyes and gripped the gun tightly. “I thought you said Nick sent you?”
He shook his head. “I said I was here because of Nick, but he didn’t send me. If he had his way, I wouldn’t have found you until it was too late.”
The man next to Paul shuffled his feet, and Carlie trained the gun on him. “Don’t move.”
“Now, now, Carlie,” Paul said, his tone soothing and calm. “There’s no reason for that gun. We aren’t the bad guys.”
“I think the gun’s necessary.” She swung it back to Paul, deciding he was the biggest threat. “What do you mean about being too late? Nick’s done nothing wrong. Are you the FBI agent he’s running from?”
“FBI.” Paul gave a short bark of laughter. “Clever boy. Is that what he told you? The FBI was never after Nick. It’s you we’ve been investigating, with Nick’s help, but we aren’t the FBI.”
While she knew the FBI had looked at her because of her association with Muhammad, she didn’t understand what he meant by them having Nick’s help. One step at a time. “If you aren’t the FBI, who are you?”
“We’re a secret organization who fights against terror on American soil.” He said it with such pride, Carlie knew he truly was the boss of whatever this was.
“Isn’t that what the FBI does?” she asked, not particularly impressed.
“That’s only part of their job,” Paul explained. “We focus only on terrorists, and we can do things the FBI can’t get away with.”
She widened her eyes, getting a glimmer of where this might be headed. “Such as?”
“Killing people who need to be killed.”
Carlie sucked in a breath. Did she even have a chance? It seemed laughable to hold a gun on two trained killers. She slowly lowered it to her side, but wasn’t ready to give up entirely. People got lucky sometimes when shooting. She might still be able to save herself.
He chuckled. “I see you figured out we aren’t frightened by your pistol.”
Not wanting to admit defeat, she ignored that. “So, you talked Nick into giving you information about me because you thought I was some sort of terrorist?”
“You really don’t understand anything, do you?” He shook his head, sighing. “You’re still working under the assumption he loves you. You poor, poor girl. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.”
Although it felt like her heart dropped into her stomach, Carlie tried to give no outward sign. “Tell me what?”
“Nick was never your boyfriend, my dear. He never wanted to date you. He didn’t go to Sayle to open a restaurant.”
She shook her head, not wanting to believe him.
“He came because he is my top agent, and I sent him to investigate you.”
Was her life with Nick all a lie? Carlie struggled to blink back tears as a lump formed in her throat. It didn’t seem possible, but this man knew so many details.
“We were wrong about you, Carlie,” Paul continued. “Nick won’t accept that though. He’s sure you’re a terrorist, and things are getting crazy. From the messages he’s sent me, I’m sure he plans to kill you within the next few days. You need to come with me. I’ll get you home and keep you safe.”
“No!” Carlie raised the gun, though her hand trembled. “You’re lying. Nick loves me!”
“He doesn’t love anyone. You’re a target to him, nothing more.”
“He saved my life. He came into a burning building to keep me alive.” Carlie held the weapon steadier, comforted by that thought. “If he wanted me dead, he didn’t need to do anything.”
Paul shook his head and looked at the other man. “She really doesn’t know.”
The man shrugged. “He’s a crafty one. He always gets the lady targets to screw him, and then they fall over themselves thinking he’s the one.”
Carlie wanted to put a bullet in him right then. “Don’t say that.”
“Yes, Terrance,” Paul said. “Don’t upset Carlie. We’re here to help her.”
Terrance laughed. “Once Edward’s helped himself to a woman, she quits thinking for herself.”
“Edward?” Carlie felt like he punched her in the gut. Although she didn’t want to listen to these men’s lies, Donovan and Madeline called Nick Edward several times. She had found it strange, and Madeline’s explanation about it being a longstanding joke hadn’t rang true. Carlie never made an issue of it because she and Nick were fighting and she was trying to get along with him. “Who’s Edward?”
“Edward, Charles, Frank, Nick, even once Billy.” Paul folded his arms across his chest, though what might have been sympathy filled his eyes. “Mr. Kendall has many names, changing with each job I send him to. Until a few months ago, he was my best agent. I could always count on him to get the job done. For some reason, he’s obsessed with you, and I can’t convince him this job is over.”
Terrance offered a sneer—no sympathy from that one. “He saved you from the fire because he thought you hadn’t revealed all your secrets.”
Feeling unfaithful somehow, Carlie couldn’t stop the memories of their last fight. Nick insisting she was a terrorist and needed to tell him about it. No matter how much she argued, he didn’t believe her. Was it possible he only pretended to forgive her, hoping to discover her plot by pretending to love her?
She remembered how upset he became when she asked him to copy down Muhammad’s
number. Carlie knew without a doubt that, although Muhammad was Muslim and people made assumption based on that, he was no more a terrorist than she was. He constantly struggled against the shame his uncle brought to the family by joining a terrorist group and attempting to assassinate President Sharp.
“I don’t know what to believe,” she said, so low the words barely made a sound.
“Carlie, I have to get you to safety.” Paul’s voice was maddeningly calm for a man who just destroyed her world. “If you’ll let me slide my cell phone to you without blowing my head off, you can read the proof yourself. Nick’s messages have become extremely disturbing the past week. He’s close to killing you.”
She lowered the gun and nodded.
Paul reached into his pocket and pulled out a smart phone, swiping at the screen. He placed it on the ground and kicked it across to her. “He’s in there as Nick. Read the messages.” When Carlie hesitated, he nodded with encouragement. “I promise you’re safe with us. Pick that phone up and scroll through. I have no reason to lie to you. All I want is to save you and get Nick to a psychiatric hospital. He’s losing it.”
She stooped to pick up the phone, darting her eyes between it and the men, trying to keep her gun trained on them.
Paul sighed. “I can see you’re worried about us. Why don’t we step outside while you verify what I’ve said? Then you don’t have to fear a sneak attack while you read.”
She shook her head. “Not a very effective solution when you pick locks.”
Terrance shrugged. “She has a point, boss. Why should she trust us?”
For some reason, that calmed her a bit. Terrance seemed like a shady, untrustworthy sort, but at least he could admit it. “Go outside,” she said. “If I hear that door open before I come to get you, I’m shooting first and asking questions later.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Carlie gripped Nick’s black address book in her hands and checked the number again. It didn’t change. No matter how hard she wanted it to be different, the messages on Paul’s phone had, in fact, come from Nick’s new cell number.
And the things he said...
Killer Romances Page 194