"You think I'm a gold-digger, Avery? I have made quite a bit of my own money."
"I know that, but you like to live in luxury. Maybe you didn't come to see me with any kind of hidden motive, but when you saw an opportunity to get in with the Tremaines, you took it."
"Well, I guess I know what you really think now," he said, disappointment in his voice.
"I guess you do," she said wearily. "This wasn't a good idea. I'm going to leave. I'll get my things and call a cab." She got to her feet. She had no idea where she was going to go, but anywhere else seemed like a good idea. Maybe she'd call Bree and see what she knew.
"You don't have to leave, Avery," her father said, as he rose. "Let's keep talking. Let's hash it all out."
"It's pretty much all out, Dad."
"Is it? Are you sure?"
As he came around the desk, he knocked over a framed photo. She instinctively reached for it. It was a photo of her father in front of a Chinese temple, another reminder that her dad had had a life she didn't really know much about. But her father wasn't hiding the fact that he'd been in China. Was that because he was clever or because his trips there were completely innocent of what was going on at Nova Star?
"Thanks," he said, as she handed him the frame, and he set it on his desk. "Now, are you sure there isn't something else you want to talk about? Believe it or not, I want to have a relationship with you, Avery."
She looked into his warm, familiar brown eyes and wanted more than anything to believe him. "We've said enough for now."
"Well, I don't want you to leave. Stay and have some birthday cake. We have a lot left over from last night, and Whitney won't be home for hours."
She brushed her hair off her face, feeling incredibly weary despite her long nap. The constant stress and uncertainty about everyone in her life was starting to get to her. "I suppose I could have a piece of cake, but I'm going to get my things together. I can't spend the night here."
"I understand. I'll drive you wherever you want to go. But I don't want you to be alone. Can I take you to a friend's house?"
"I'll figure it out. First, I'm going to take a shower and change clothes. Then we can have some cake."
"Sounds good," he said, relief in his eyes. "Take your time."
As she left the study, she walked toward the stairs. She had only gone up a few steps when she heard her father's voice. That gave her pause. Her dad was on the phone.
"Yes, Avery is here," he said, then fell silent. "Sure, no problem."
Her heart skipped a beat. Who was her dad talking to? Why had he said she was at the house?
She tried not to jump to conclusions. He could just be talking to Whitney.
But what if he was talking to someone else?
She suddenly didn't feel safe at all anymore. She jogged up the stairs and ran into the guest room. She took her phone out of her bag and saw a bunch of texts from Bree, asking her to call her. She would call her back, but right now she needed to get out of the house.
Forget the shower. Forget the cake. She needed to find some place to hide where no one, not even her father, knew where she was. She might be completely paranoid, but every instinct she had was telling her to run.
She put on her shoes and grabbed her open suitcase from the floor, so she could put her work clothes in it. As she did so, her gaze caught on the sleeve of her short black leather coat, the one still stained with Noelle's blood.
So much had happened since Noelle had been killed, and yet she still didn't know who had murdered her best friend.
When she pulled the coat from the case, something fell out of the pocket. She leaned down to pick it up from the bed, realizing it was the charm bracelet she'd taken from Noelle's apartment.
An uneasy shiver ran down her spine.
She'd completely forgotten about the bracelet.
She'd stuffed it in her pocket when she'd seen the autographed book on the floor, and from then on it had been a race to stay ahead of Noelle's killer.
But was the bracelet important? It didn't seem like it could be.
Noelle's last words rang through her head: Left something… apartment…you'll recognize it from when we were young. So innocent then.
She held it up to the light, the charms dangling in front of her. They were the charms of a young girl: a silver heart, a starfish, a guitar and a book. Her pulse beat faster.
She flipped open the corner of the book, remembering when they used to hide candy hearts inside the space. There was no candy heart today, but a tiny silver rectangle. She pulled it out with shaky fingers. A tiny button flipped open a flash drive.
"Oh, God!" she whispered. Her breath came fast as her fingers closed around the drive. This has to be what everyone was looking for. She'd had it all along.
"Avery."
She jumped as her father walked into the room.
His gaze narrowed as he looked at her. "What's wrong? You're white as a sheet."
"I—I…" She didn't know what to say.
"Honey, talk to me. You can say anything to me. Trust me."
Noelle's words rang through her head again…I trusted the wrong person.
Her fingers tightened around the drive. "I have to go."
"Not like this. You're upset. What changed? You weren't this distraught a few minutes ago." His gaze dropped to her closed hand. "What do you have in your hand?"
When she didn't answer, he looked disappointed. "You really don’t trust me, do you?"
"I don't. I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because you were just on the phone telling someone I was here. And last night you had a cryptic conversation with Kyle about asking him to do something for you. Then Wyatt and I were followed when we left here, almost run off the road and later we were shot at…" The words poured out of her.
Her father looked at her in stunned amazement. "I have no idea what you're talking about Avery. Whitney called just now, and I told her you were here, and she didn't have to hurry home. We were catching up with each other. As for Kyle last night, I had asked him to help Whitney get into a country club she's on the waiting list for, but he keeps stalling. I was annoyed with him. I reminded him that Whitney does a lot for him."
"But someone tried to get into Kyle's email from this house. Was that you? Whitney?"
"I don't know. It wasn't me. It was probably Kyle. Did you say you were shot at?"
"Yes. Wyatt saved my life—not just once, but three times."
He stared back at her. "You need protection, Avery. I need to hire you a bodyguard or two."
"I wouldn't be able to trust whoever you hired. The danger is coming from someone close to me. The only person I know I can count on is Wyatt."
"You can count on me."
Before she could reply, she heard a noise from outside the room. "Who's here?"
"No one is here," he said with a frown. "It's just the two of us."
Her heart started pounding as she heard another subtle noise. This time her father heard it, too, his gaze moving toward the open door.
"He's here," she whispered, knowing in her gut that time had just run out.
"Who?"
"Whoever killed Noelle. Whoever wants me dead."
His face paled, but his eyes filled with determination. "We have to get out of here. Come on. We'll go down the back stairs."
She was afraid to leave the room and terrified to stay. They had no weapons, nothing with which to defend themselves, so they might as well try to make a run for it. Luckily, the room she'd chosen was closer to the back stairs than the front.
Her dad went out the door first, checking the landing, then motioning her forward. She came into the hall and her father gently pushed her toward the back staircase, staying behind her, as they crept down the hall. Despite their efforts to remain quiet, they were making too much noise, she realized, as hard footsteps came after them.
She picked up the pace. It was now or never. They couldn't stop. They hit the ground-floor hallway, and s
he saw the front door wide open. She made a run for it, her dad on her heels.
And then she heard her father yell out. She whirled around as he crumpled to the floor, grabbing his left arm in pain. A stone-cold, dark-haired Asian man in a black T-shirt and black jeans pointed his gun at her.
"Where is it?" he demanded.
She realized she had the drive still clasped in her hand. If she handed it over, he'd kill her. If she didn't hand it over, he'd kill her.
She looked at her dad, saw anguish written across his face.
The man saw her indecision and pointed his weapon at her father. "Him or the drive."
"You're going to kill us anyway."
"I just want the drive."
She didn't believe him for a second, but what choice did she have? "All right."
Before she could open her hand, a blast rang out from behind her, deafening her, terrifying her. She dropped to her knees as the Asian fell backward, a bullet hole ripping through his chest.
And then, miraculously, Wyatt was there.
"Avery, are you all right?" He came towards her, gun in hand, fear in his eyes.
"I'm okay. But Dad—" She moved toward her father. "We'll get help," she promised him. "Hang in there."
Wyatt took off his belt and strapped it around her father's arms as he propped her dad up against the wall. "That should stop the bleeding."
"Don't worry about me. Get Avery out of here in case there are more coming," her dad said.
"I'm not leaving you," she said, realizing he'd saved her life by making her go down the stairs first.
"My phone is in my pocket," her dad said, trying to reach into his pocket with his good hand. "I'll call 911 after you're gone."
"Here it is," Wyatt said, helping her father get his phone out.
"Get her out of here, Wyatt. I expect you to protect her with your life."
The two men exchanged a pointed look.
"I will," Wyatt promised.
Despite their agreement, she shook her head when he motioned her toward the door. "Not until I know help is here. I have to wait. He's defenseless."
"Give me the guy's gun," her dad said, as he got off the phone with 911. "I can take care of myself."
Wyatt walked over and picked up the gun. He also took a moment to go through the man's pockets, pulling out a cell phone and a wallet. He glanced at the ID, then he returned to her father and handed him the weapon, putting the other items in his pocket.
"Get the hell out of here, Avery," her father commanded. "Now."
With both men adamant on her leaving, she gave in, and followed Wyatt out the kitchen door. He grabbed her hand and took her through the backyard, past the pool and the gardens, and down a long hill that led to a tall fence and a secondary gate to the property. The gate was propped open with a stick. Clearly Wyatt had used the gate to come in without anyone seeing him.
When they came through the gate, they jogged down another street and another. Wyatt seemed to have a clear-minded vision of where they were going, but she didn't understand why he had parked so far away.
She heard sirens in the distance and was relieved that help was coming. But along with that relief came fear.
"Are you still in trouble?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, his fingers squeezing hers. "But I'm not guilty."
She met his gaze. "I know."
His eyes brightened. "I'm glad. I had to park outside the development. Couldn't risk the guard turning me in."
"I understand."
They didn't speak again for several more minutes as Wyatt took her down a side yard, over a low fence and down another more rugged hillside to a parked car.
Her pulse was still racing, as he turned on the engine and pulled away from the curb. She was afraid to go through the canyon roads again, but Wyatt turned away at the last minute, heading onto the crowded freeway.
There was a lot of traffic, which slowed their escape, but she also felt more hidden amidst all the cars.
A few exits later, Wyatt pulled off the freeway and turned into a crowded parking lot by a fashion center mall. While the lot was well-lit, he picked a spot in the shadows, then turned off engine and lights and then shifted in his seat to look at her.
"Are you all right, Avery?"
"You saved my life—again."
"Third time was the charm."
"That was actually the fourth time."
"But who's counting," he said lightly.
She shook her head, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. "God, Wyatt, how are you always there when I need you?"
"I was afraid I wouldn't get there in time."
"But you did."
"And that guy won't be coming after you again."
"I just hope my dad—"
"He's going to be all right, Avery."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
It was ironic that the one person who had lied to her the most was the one person she absolutely trusted to tell her the truth now.
"I'm sorry I was gone all day, Avery," he continued. "I wish you hadn't had to go through that. I've been trying to get back to you for hours."
"What happened?"
"Someone set me up to look like a double agent."
"Who?"
"I don't know. Bree broke me out of there."
"What?" she asked in astonishment. "Bree broke you out of jail?"
"Not jail, just a holding room at the FBI field office. She knew I needed to fight for you, and I needed to be able to defend myself against the bogus charges. I wasn't going to be able to do that from the office."
She was amazed by Bree's actions. "Won't Bree be in a lot of trouble?"
"She could lose everything," he said tightly. "But that's what we do for each other."
"I can't imagine that kind of loyalty. Actually, that's not true. I can imagine it. Because you've shown it to me."
His gaze met hers. "There are a lot of things I want to say to you."
"I know, but now isn't the time. Who was that man in the house?"
"Ran Ding, a hired gun, tied to the Chinese PLA. He shot Carter before he got to you."
"Is Carter dead?"
"No, he's going to live. Carter told me Bickmore was using him to make drops at the funhouse. He was the go-between."
"Are you serious? He admitted that?"
"He thought he was dying. He said Noelle must have caught on to what he was doing. She apparently stole the flash drive he was supposed to deliver and set up her own meet. He thought she wanted the money to help her mom. But he said she didn't hand over the drive. She told the person at the meet that the game was over, that everything on the drive had been handed over to Hamilton, that she'd come to tell them it was done."
"And they stabbed her. Why would she do that? Why didn't she just turn the drive over and not show up?"
"I don't know. Hopefully, we can fill in a few more blanks when Carter gets medical attention. At any rate, they didn't believe she'd given the drive to Hamilton, because Bickmore knew that Hamilton didn't have it and was going about his business as usual. So, they went looking for the drive. Carter told them that you had to have it, because he didn't. Or it was lost in the fire."
"I do have it." She opened her left palm.
Wyatt's eyes widened in surprise. "Where did you get that?"
"It was in the charm bracelet I took from Noelle's place the morning after her murder."
"You never said you took a bracelet."
"I honestly forgot all about it. When I got to her apartment that day, everything was such a mess. I was just wandering around, looking for some clue to jump out at me. I saw the bracelet and a heart necklace in her jewelry box, and I wanted to keep them to remember her by. I picked them up and put them in the pocket of my coat." She paused, trying to remember her exact movements. "And then I saw the book on the floor, and I grabbed it. After that, everything went crazy. When we got back to my place, I put the coat in the suitcase when I packed my bag, and I haven't worn
it since then because there is blood on the sleeve."
"But tonight…"
"I was repacking my clothes and I pulled out the coat, and the bracelet fell out. This was hidden inside the book charm." She held up the drive. "What do you think is on it?"
"Hell if I know, but we're going to find out."
"I left my computer at my dad's house. Should we go to Bree's?"
"No time." He glanced at the front door of the mall. "Looks like I picked the right place to park. I'm betting there's an electronics store inside."
"I'll go. You need to stay out of sight."
He didn't look like he wanted to agree, but what choice did he have. He was a wanted man. "All right." He took out his wallet. "You can use this card."
She took it out of his hand. "I won't be long."
He put a hand on her leg. "Avery…I'm glad you're okay."
"I'm glad you're okay," she said, feeling a rush of love that wanted to bring tears to her eyes.
Wyatt leaned over and kissed her, a warm, tender, promising kiss that she wished she could savor and revel in and keep on going forever. For just a moment, she closed her eyes and breathed him in, feeling warmth and pleasure wash over her. There were still so many questions, so much fear, but for this moment, everything felt—perfect.
Wyatt finally pulled away, as if it was the most difficult thing he'd ever had to do. "We'll talk more later."
She smiled at the word talk. "Sure. I can't wait for more talking."
He smiled back. "I can't believe you can joke right now. You're a lot tougher than you think, Avery."
"I'm actually beginning to think I'm pretty tough, too. I'll be right back."
Twenty-Five
Every minute that Avery was gone felt like an hour. He tapped his fingers restlessly on his thigh, wishing he hadn't had to send her into the mall alone. But he told himself that the immediate danger had been crushed with Ran Ding's death. It would take time for whoever had hired him to know he had failed.
At least, he'd taken care of one contract player, but there would be more until they figured out what was on the drive and who was really behind the killings. While he was waiting, he got on the phone to Bree.
"Wyatt," she said. "Tell me Avery is all right."
Desperate Play (Off the Grid: FBI Series Book 3) Page 27