Killer Romances
Page 195
Carlie buried her face in her hands, trying to stifle the sobs. She thought he loved her. She thought he was different from Ryan. Turns out, another man fooled her into believing his lies when all he really wanted was to screw her before tossing her away. In this case, permanently.
She wanted to call Nick and tell him off, but that wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t change the fact that he was a secret agent fighting terrorism. One who decided his boss didn’t know what he was talking about and wanted to kill the target, despite repeated orders against that plan.
It was all there, plain for her to read. Nick was going to kill her. Soon. The last few messages said he didn’t think Carlie would give up her secrets, and the time had come to do away with her.
“Lies! Everything he ever said!” She chucked the address book across the office, tears rolling down her cheeks. She felt empty inside. He said he loved her.
Carlie walked across the house to the downstairs bathroom, splashing water on her face and blowing her nose. What would she do now? No money, a burnt down restaurant in a town where assassins searched for her, and no way to contact her parents without her enemies finding her. She blinked back a fresh spat of tears. Maybe Shelley would help her, or Bradley or Muhammad. She wasn’t entirely without friends.
Just without the man she loved.
Feeling lethargic and drained, Carlie walked to the front of the house. She pulled the door open. Paul and Terrance sat on the steps.
“I’m sorry,” Paul said. “I hated showing you that, but we have to get you to safety. I don’t know where Nick is, but we can’t assume he’ll stay gone.”
Nodding, she gestured to the house, indicating they should come inside. The men hopped up to follow her.
“Make yourselves comfortable.” She handed Paul his phone. “You probably need drinks or the bathroom or whatever.” She didn’t know what to say to them. Everything hurt. All she wanted was to fall asleep and then wake up, discovering this was a horrible nightmare. “I need to get dressed and gather my things.”
“Make sure you get everything, Carlie.” Paul looked around the house. “You won’t be coming back here.”
She nodded, thinking about her dish detergent ‘safe’ hidden beneath the kitchen sink. It was all she had left to start a new life. At least Nick gave her expensive jewelry. Maybe she could sell it to help rebuild her funds.
Once upstairs, Carlie pulled on some jeans and a sweater. Nick bought her a suitcase for the trip to Africa next month, and she pulled it out of the bottom of the closet, filling it with the clothing he gave her over the last couple of months.
Though for some reason the existence of the clothes and suitcase nagged at her, begging her to think about them further, Carlie pushed it away. It hurt too bad to question Nick’s motives. Obviously, he was unstable, just like Paul said.
And she still loved him. What if they could make him better somehow, get him the help he needed? They could still be together.
She shook her head and zipped the suitcase closed, hurrying to the bathroom to pack her toiletries and hair care products in the separate bag made for that. After she grabbed everything, there was enough room to put in the thin detergent box. She looped the strap of the case over her shoulder, walking into the bedroom and extending the handle of the suitcase so she could roll it from the room.
At the top of the stairs, she called down, “Can someone help me? I don’t think my hands will handle pulling this down there.”
Paul emerged from the living room area. “I’ll get that.”
“Thanks.” Carlie left the bag and hurried down the stairs. “There’s a few things I need from the kitchen, and I’ll be ready.”
He started up the stairway as soon as she passed him, and Carlie tried to ignore the unease in her stomach. Bile rose in her throat, causing a sour taste in her mouth. Something about Paul set her on edge.
She crossed to the sink and grabbed out the detergent box, stuffing it into her bag. Why couldn’t she make herself truly believe Nick was out to harm her? Despite the evidence, despite her hurt, the thought of leaving this house with Paul made her feel more sick than the thought of Nick killing her.
That’s when it clicked. She didn’t know what was going on, but Nick couldn’t really want to kill her. Maybe he lied in those messages to throw Paul off their trail or maybe the messages were faked somehow. No matter what happened, Nick couldn’t mean what they said.
Why buy her summer clothes and luggage for their trip to Africa next month? If he planned to kill her, he could have made promises with no intention of keeping them. He didn’t need to spend money, yet they actively shopped for the trip—clothes, luggage. They even planned their safari schedule and bought plane tickets.
Calm descended on her, swiftly cooling her previous hurt, though fear rushed to take its place. Paul and Terrance were the bad guys, not Nick. She’d left the gun in the office on the desk. She didn’t know how to get it without alerting the men she was on to them, but she had to try.
Carlie strolled from the kitchen as calmly as possible, though her knees shook with each step. The men stood in the foyer, her suitcase next to them.
“Ready?” Paul asked.
Shaking her head, Carlie strode toward the office. “Nick ditched my phone in Sayle. The phone numbers I need are in the office. Once I grab them I’ll be ready.”
After only a few more steps, the sound of a gun cocking stopped her cold.
“Don’t take another step.” The jovial, conciliatory tone had left Paul’s voice. He sounded like the hardened man he truly was. “What gave our game away?”
She turned slowly and met his steely gaze. “What gave mine away?”
He shrugged. “Something different in your walk now from when you went into the kitchen. I’m trained to notice these things.”
She closed her eyes, wondering how this worked. At least she could die knowing Nick never betrayed her. Hopefully he’d never know that, for the briefest of time, she had thought the worst of him. “Do you just shoot me now, or is there something you need first?”
He laughed and jerked his head toward Terrance. “You’d better do what you do, Terrance. This one knows karate and practiced self-defense.”
Carlie wondered how he knew about the self-defense, but didn’t have time to worry about that.
Terrance pulled a sandwich bag from his pocket, a white rag inside. “This can be easy and you live, or you can fight me and die.” He flashed brilliantly white teeth. “Either way is fine with me, but the person paying for this job would like you alive. He wants to talk to you.”
She shifted her gaze between the two men. “Paying for the job? I thought you worked for the government.”
Paul glared at Terrance before returning his attention to her. “The government pays us and sometimes we have special assignments. Now, be a good girl and let Terrance put that over your mouth. If I have to shoot you first, things could get messy.”
“What’s on the cloth?”
Terrance took another step forward. “My own special creation. Kind of a chloroform-type chemical, but much better. People react differently to it, but I think you’ll wake up...eventually.”
Indecision trapped her as Terrance approached. If she let him knock her out, maybe she’d be in a situation later with a better chance of getting away. If she fought him here, Paul would shoot her. The house was so isolated from other homes along the lake, Carlie had no hope of finding help before bleeding out, even if she escaped both men.
Before she could decide, Terrance thrust the cloth toward her. It didn’t even touch her face before the fumes hit her. Carlie’s vision blurred and she was already crashing to the floor before he clapped the rag over her mouth.
Chapter Forty
Nick tried to control his overwhelming panic as he floored the sedan to seventy miles per hour on the narrow lakefront road. Even if Carlie went shopping in the morning and missed his call then, there was no way she would still be gone. Something w
as terribly wrong.
He careened into the driveway. Perhaps taking her to such an isolated spot was a bad idea. Nick never even spoke to his neighbors, who lived several acres away. There was no one to call and ask for help in checking on her.
What if she reached for something on the top shelf and fell? Or she could have drowned in the bathtub. Worse and worse scenarios played through his mind, all to distract him from his real fear. What if someone found her? He was near frantic by the time he jumped out of the car and bounded up the porch steps.
Though he pulled his key out, the front door was unlatched and swung open at his touch.
“Carlie?” His voice shook and he cleared his throat to try again. “Carlie!”
The foyer looked like a tornado hit it. Someone smashed the expensive vases flanking either side of the door. Papers were scattered everywhere, and broken pieces of furniture and glass littered the ground.
Carlie’s suitcase lay open beyond the entryway, clothing scattered haphazardly around it. Unable to make sense of the chaos, Nick picked his way through the house, searching room by room.
Whoever did this destroyed each area, tearing apart and overturning items in every room. The one small consolation was no blood splattered the floors or walls, though Carlie was missing. All he could hope was that whoever took her—either Paul or the assassins—kept her alive.
Nick went to the office, searching for his address book. He’d call Paul before doing anything else. It was a safe bet his unstable boss did this; assassins would have killed Carlie and left her body, not ransack the house in search of something. Paul tracing the call and discovering where Nick hid out no longer mattered. Nothing mattered, except that he find Carlie.
The address book wasn’t in his desk. Nothing was in his desk. Just as panic set in, Nick finally spotted it across the room, pages splayed open and wrinkled. He snatched it up and returned to his chair, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. With a great tech team, Paul would instantly know Nick’s position when the call connected, but the risk was worth it. If Paul did take Carlie, he already knew about the lake house anyway.
As he searched for Paul’s number, his phone buzzed in his hand. Startled, Nick glanced at it. It wasn’t a number he had programmed. He swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Where the hell is it?”
Nick would recognize that menacing voice anywhere. “Hi, Paul. I was just about to call you. I see you already have my number.” It was a struggle to keep his tone light, but he needed to get the upper hand in this conversation. “As far as where it is, tell me what it is. Maybe we can make a trade.”
“You must have made it back to the lake, traitor. Missing someone?”
Nick forced a laugh. “You ordered me to kill an innocent woman, and I’m the traitor?”
“Where’s the bracelet, Nick?”
That damn bracelet. He couldn’t believe that was still Paul’s hang up. “You did all this for the bracelet? There’s nothing special about it, except what it means to Carlie. Maybe those types of dangerous microchips exist, but she doesn’t have any.”
“You’re such an idiot.” Paul’s irritated huff sounded in Nick’s ear. “This is bigger than terrorist plots and microchips. I need that bracelet.”
“And I need Carlie. Where is she?” He hoped the fear he felt came across as anger. If Paul killed her, the only thing left for Nick would be revenge.
“She had a dose of MG-37.”
Nick’s fingers turned frigid and his hands shook. He’d heard of the experimental drug and the side effects. Some test subjects never woke up. Why would the government sanction Paul using that? Nick knew the President occasionally gave orders to kill a particular target when there was no other option, but MG-37 was dangerous and unpredictable.
“Nothing to say?” Paul asked. “I guess by your silence, you’ve heard of it.”
“Did she wake up?”
“She’s coming around now, but if I don’t have that bracelet soon, I’ll make sure the next dose is lethal.”
It was time for Nick to be smarter. He had to maneuver negotiations to a point where he had some chance of getting Carlie out alive. “And if I give it to you, what happens to me and Carlie?”
“You ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after.”
Somehow, Nick doubted that. “Where are you?”
“Back in the States and far from you. You won’t find us, Nick. You need to cooperate if you ever want to see her again.”
Though he wondered how they got across the border with Carlie drugged in their vehicle, that was the least of his worries. Once in the US, they could have hopped onto Paul’s private plane and be almost anywhere by now. It had been seventeen hours since he last spoke with Carlie.
“I’ll cooperate. What’s your plan?”
“Where’s the bracelet and can you get it?”
Nick looked at the corner of the room, pleased to note the undisturbed carpet. It seemed the hidden floor safe was a good investment. It was even better he hadn’t left the bracelet where it could be found. He didn’t tell Carlie, but when they first arrived at the lake he took it out of the detergent box, along with the jewelry he bought her, knowing those were the most important to her.
“I have the bracelet,” Nick replied. “How do we make the trade?”
“Fly yourself to Phoenix, Arizona and then call me,” Paul said. “This will be a multi-step operation.”
He expected that. Paul wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell Nick where he was. “It’s going to take a little time.” Especially since he needed to come up with a plan. The boss had gone completely off the rails. Nick no longer believed the President or board members of S.A.T.O. sanctioned the mission.
Things had seemed strange from the beginning, but now nothing was adding up. Between the fire and the race to keep Carlie alive and hidden, Nick hadn’t thought about it, but the entire situation was off. Paul no longer acted like the man Nick had always known him to be. He was acting like a criminal.
“Does the President know where you are?”
Paul scoffed. “You were once a good agent, Nick, but way too easy to manipulate. We haven’t been working for the President for a long time. Get your ass to Phoenix. This job has already taken too long since I had to string you along to get you to do what I needed.”
Anger turned like lava in Nick’s gut. Who the hell had they been working for? He squeezed his hand into a fist and took deep breaths. “I’ll expect to talk to Carlie the next time you call. If I don’t hear from her, you’ll never get the bracelet.”
“Don’t try to be sly, Nick. You can’t outwit me.”
“And don’t you test me. If she can’t speak with me every time you call from here on out I’ll assume she’s dead. Whatever this bracelet actually means, Carlie staying alive is your only chance of getting it.”
Nick hung up without giving Paul a chance to respond. He set the phone on the desk with exaggerated care. What he really wanted to do was break out of control and beat the shit out of something—more like someone.
Drawing on all his training, Nick forced himself to find his center and meditate, focusing his thoughts and calming his anger. He needed to think clearly to save Carlie’s life. Anger was his enemy.
Knowing he hadn’t been actually working for the government wasn’t as much of a shock as Nick expected. Deep down, he always wondered if Paul was lying, ever since he sent orders to kill Jason Steele and then cut off Nick’s communication with the other agents.
After his meditations were complete, Nick glanced at the address book, a plan forming now that his mind was clear. Perhaps he wasn’t in this alone. There might be someone who would help him.
Chapter Forty-One
Carlie’s eyes felt glued shut and her mouth tasted like she’d sucked on pennies. Struggling against her nausea, she forced her eyes open. The white walls around her put her in mind of a psychiatric hospital, though they weren’t padded. Nothing hung on them and fluorescent lights made
the room too bright.
“Is she still asleep?” A male voice, familiar.
Carlie realized it was Terrance, and then remembered what happened. She was captive.
“Last time I checked she was,” a female answered. “Still breathing, thank God. I think your drug needs more work. You’re going to kill someone.”
Carlie froze, holding her breath as she struggled to hear whatever else was said. She knew that voice.
Terrance laughed. “Sometimes the boss doesn’t want ‘em to keep breathing.”
“Maybe the boss doesn’t, but the President might have a different opinion.”
Carlie shifted on the small cot, trying to get a better view of the room behind her head. A metal door with a small window in it dominated the far wall. Terrance’s face was visible through the small opening, but he stared at the other person in the hallway with him, not in at Carlie.
He turned slightly, and she quickly closed her eyes, not wanting them to know she’d woken up.
“If you know what’s good for you,” Terrance said, “you won’t question Paul or the President. Stick to your job. Why don’t you go wake her up? The MG-37 should have worn off by now. I’ll be back to check on you later.”
The sound of his hard boots clomped down the hallway, fading out, and the door creaked open. Carlie tried to keep her breathing even and feign sleep, but couldn’t control her nerves. How could she have so completely trusted the wrong person?
“Carlie?”
The scent of Obsession perfume washed over her as the woman kneeled, leaving no doubt as to her captor’s identity.
The woman shook her shoulder gently. “Can you wake up a little?”
Without opening her eyes, Carlie whispered, “How could you?” She sat up quickly, feeling a little woozy and swallowing down bile as she glared into Shelley’s bright blue eyes. “Did you start the fire at the shop, or just help Paul find me after I called? I trusted you!”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Terrorists don’t get to act outraged when they get caught.” Shelley stood and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I actually thought you were innocent for a while. I bought into that poor Princess Stephanie bullshit! I thought we were friends. I can’t believe you tricked me like that!”