Silken Threats (17 page)

Tucker came through the door to Lilah’s side of the business, their small hand vac in one hand and yet another trash bag full of garbage in another.

“Put me to work.” Although his words suggested otherwise, she saw the tired lines that pulled at his face.

They’d all spelled each other at various intervals throughout the morning, moving back and forth between Dragon Designs and Elegance and Lace to catch a few hours of needed sleep. No one was quite ready to go home, but the rests were a welcome reprieve from the stress of the past few days.

But as she looked over his tired eyes and drawn mouth, she knew he hadn’t bothered to take his fair share of rest.

“You’ve done so much already, I can hardly ask you to do this, too. Go on and get some rest.”

A light frown creased his brows, but he said nothing as he went to work changing out the garbage bag she’d methodically filled with glass and debris.

She watched him, the stiff set of his shoulders telling an even bigger story than his silence.

“You’re quiet.”

“Nothing to say.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d say there’s quite a bit to say.” She focused on a swath of small shards scattered under one of the shop’s oversize love seats. “I just can’t seem to find the words.”

“You seem to find two words often enough. ‘I’m sorry.’”

Silence descended once again. “You don’t think I’m appreciative of what you’ve done? Of what Max has done? You’ve both risked far more than a bit of your time.”

“We knew what we were taking on.”

“Oh, so now you need to play the silent, suffering hero.”

He dragged the heavy bag out of the container and pulled at the ties, snapping the plastic together in harsh motions as he knotted it tight. “It’s better than playing the martyred shop owner.”

Her patience had long since frayed at the ends, and his outburst only managed to light those edges with swift sparks. “What the hell, Tucker?”

“I’ll tell you what the hell.” He tossed the garbage toward the front door, the bag making a heavy thunk as it fell. “I’m not here for your apologies. Or to be some hero. I’m here because I care. Because I give a freaking crap about what happens to you.”

“I—”

His hands came around her shoulders, and he dragged her close, then pressed her head to his chest. “I see that body lying outside the door and all I can picture in its place is you. All I can see is you.”

“I’m here. I’m fine.” She wrapped her arms around him and rubbed her hands over his back. His muscles quivered, tension stamped in every sinew.

“I brought you into that. Something could have happened to you while Max and I were busy playing cowboy.”

“I wanted to do this. It’s my shop. My livelihood. I have a right to be here.”

“I have a duty to protect you.”

Duty?

Cassidy knew she was as tired as he was, but something in the word had her seeing red. Shoving back, she stared at him, all the unsaid fears of the past days spilling over in an explosion.

“I’m not your duty. Or your job. Or someone you have to keep an eye on. I’m a grown woman with a business and a responsibility to that business. What kind of person would I be if I’d let you come here to fight my battles?”

“You’d be just like everyone else!”

A lifetime of hurt painted itself across his face, and she knew they were no longer talking about cleanup or business risks or even the danger that currently dogged all of them.

“What happened to you?” The words fell from her lips, a match to his question from two nights before.

“Nothing.”

She clenched her hands around the handle of the broom and fought to keep her voice level. “Tell me you don’t want to talk about it but don’t lie to me.”

His gaze settled on a spot on the far side of the room, indecision hovering around him in what looked like a stormy swirl of emotions and memories.

She’d almost convinced herself he wasn’t going to say anything—wasn’t going to let her inside that roiling sea—when he began to speak.

“My brother died when I was ten.”

Words of sympathy were nearly out when she pulled them back. There would be time for them later.

Time after he finally spilled whatever had been pent up inside for so very long.

“He was eighteen.”

“That’s a big age difference.”

“Yeah. My parents had difficulty getting pregnant between us.”

His gaze drifted to a different time and place and where she saw avoidance before, she now saw memories come alive in his eyes.

“Scott was the classic golden boy. Big and athletic, he was everything to our town.” He shook his head. “It’s cliché to say it like that, but it’s true. And my parents adored him.”

Cassidy braced herself for what came next.

“He was killed in a football accident in early fall. A freak tackle that just had too much strength in it. Came in at the wrong angle.”

As someone who’d lived her life in the state where football was king, she cringed every year when she heard the inevitable news story or two about young men who lost their lives to the sport. “The game’s dangerous. People want to dismiss that but it doesn’t make it any less true.”

When he continued to stare toward the windows, she pressed on. “What does that have to do with fighting other people’s battles?”

“Losing Scott destroyed my parents. And it should have. I know why it did—” He broke off, and she saw the very real struggle of a lifetime of guilt and disappointment.

She’d sensed hidden depths in him. Had known the easygoing personality and quick, charming smile were a veneer, layered over something darker.

“I understand why they’d lose a part of themselves when they lost their child. I didn’t understand it then but as an adult I do understand. But they gave me up in the process. Resented me for still being alive.”

“So you just tried harder.”

“For all the good it did me. No matter the grade I made or the activity I took an interest in, it was never good enough.
I
was never good enough. But when I refused to play football, that was the last straw.”

Her sympathy had a new target and the words she’d tried so hard to hold back as he spoke exploded with raw, blinding anger. “Why the hell would anyone think you playing football was a good idea?”

“A way to recapture Scott’s glory days? A way to restore hope? Who the hell knows.”

“Hope for who? Your parents? It certainly couldn’t have been for the town’s crestfallen hopes. You said you moved around.”

“My parents couldn’t stand to see all the places that reminded them of my brother so we bummed around to different places where one of them managed to get work.”

He turned to her then. “I’d already disappointed them enough with my focus on math and science and my desire to build things. Then I entered the military and my father had his final proof that his second son was a raging disappointment.”

“A son at West Point is a disappointment?”

“It is when expectations lie somewhere else. Funny, though, he accepts the checks I send with righteous satisfaction.”

Cassidy knew family dynamics were never easy. Hell, she’d spent a lifetime trying to figure hers out and never seemed to make much progress there.

But what his parents did to him was wrong.

No child should have to live in the shadowed pain of someone else’s shattered dreams.

Instinctively, she knew words weren’t the answer. So instead, she moved into his body, wrapping her arms tight around him.

The firestorm that blazed between them calmed, leaving only a few small embers in its wake. And when he wrapped his arms around her, Cassidy felt the last smoldering sparks wink out.

He still trembled but said nothing more as they stood there in the midst of the debris. But as she held that large, strong body against hers, Cassidy knew something had changed.

Her heart had been split wide-open and there was no closing it back up.

Chapter 15

T
ucker settled into the red overstuffed cushions of Lilah’s massive sectional with a plate of canapés in his hand and a beer chilling on the coffee table before him. Lilah had insisted they all come to her house so she could cook them dinner and give everyone a chance to unwind from the past few days. Her townhome was in Dallas’s trendy Uptown neighborhood, and the moment he’d walked through the door he could see the setting fit her to a T.

Vivid walls splashed with color offset fluffy furniture and funky paintings. Add on the kitchen that would make Julia Child weep with envy and he couldn’t have designed a house more perfect for her.

Cassidy and Violet had made themselves quickly at home in the kitchen, and he and Max had taken over the living room to watch a ballgame. All in all, an easy night with friends.

If you didn’t count the lingering smell of gunfire and the memories of a dead body that haunted them all.

Oh, yeah, right. Or the fact he’d spilled his guts to Cassidy.

Damn, Buchanan. Shake it off.

Lilah had invited Bailey to join the party, and the mutt sat worshipfully at his feet, his soulful gaze on the plate in Tucker’s hand. As food choices went he couldn’t argue with small hot dogs wrapped in bacon and puff pastry. Or a home-cooked meal.

Evidently, neither could man’s best friend.

He knew he needed to get his head in the game but even the excellent food and even-more-excellent company couldn’t erase the ass he’d made of himself in front of Cassidy.

He’d never been one to second-guess himself—if he felt something he went with it—but ranting at her in the middle of her ruined shop like some love-struck schoolboy wasn’t the brightest idea he’d ever had. And telling her about his poor, pitiful past hadn’t been on the day’s agenda. Or on any day’s agenda.

Ever.

“Did you see that?” Max hollered a choice obscenity at the umpire before loading up another plate of gourmet beanie weenies. “Damn, these are good.”

Lilah floated in with another full tray. “Then have more.”

“Marry me, Lilah, and make these every day. Please.” Max slapped a hand to his heart and nearly wobbled his appetizer plate. The pup stood at the ready, and Tucker could have sworn Bailey already imagined the appetizers falling, like manna from heaven.

Before Lilah could answer, Violet’s voice filtered from the direction of the kitchen. “If you knew how many calories are in those you’d rethink that request. She’s a temptress of the worst kind.”

“Hey.” An affronted look covered Max’s face. “I exercise.”

Violet walked in and settled herself on the couch, a glass of white wine in her hand. “Since you’d have to run to Fort Worth and back every day I’m not sure you’re up for it, Baldwin.”

“I don’t think the devil wears pink streaks in his hair.”

Lilah laughed at that before rubbing her hands together. “Then clearly you haven’t tried my red velvet cupcakes.”

The banter was easy and the game lively as dinner cooked in the kitchen. Whether it was the jovial atmosphere or a concerted attempt to relax, Tucker wasn’t sure, but it all vanished a few minutes later when Cassidy drifted in from a small living room off the front hall.

“Cass?” Lilah moved first. “What is it?”

“Mrs. B. She was moved to a regular room and I tried calling her to see how she’s doing.”

“How is she?”

“I’m not sure. She mumbled something about being fine, told me to stay away and hung up.”

Max was the first to speak. “Was my grandfather with her?”

“I don’t know. The call was so short I didn’t get much more than what I just told you.”

Max was already up, his phone in hand. “I’ll call him.”

Lilah had barely lowered the volume on the TV when Max stomped back down the hall as fast as he left.

Tucker sat forward, disengaging himself from the deep cushions of the couch. “Was he there?”

“He’s ignoring me.”

“He could be busy.” Although contrary, Violet’s voice was gentle when she spoke. “He’ll call back.”

“I left him a message earlier, as well, and he hasn’t called—” Max broke off as his phone buzzed with an incoming text. He muttered a low curse before turning to the rest of them as he read the text out loud. “I’m fine. Talk later.”

“I’ll lay you odds they’re together,” Violet said.

“Damn straight they are. They’ve been hiding something from the get-go.” Max shook his head and stopped. Tucker had known his friend for a long time—had trusted the man to watch his back through more ops than he could count—which made the indecision he saw layered on Max’s face that much more jarring.

“What is it?”

“I was going to give the old man the courtesy of a first look but now I don’t know.”

They all stared at him, no one saying anything until Tucker broke the silence. “First look at what?”

“This.”

The room grew quiet and even Bailey was at full attention as Max dug into his back pocket. When he came up with a cloth-wrapped package, Tucker knew they were in trouble.

And as Max unwrapped three enormous rubies, Tucker felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

* * *

Max dragged his phone out one more time, then shoved it back into his shirt pocket on a loud harrumph. Jo knew how upset he was—how worried for his grandson and his friends—and she wondered yet again if she’d made the right choice.

She had gone along with the charade to get the girls out of the building. Wanted them far gone when that evil man came for the jewels.

But what if it still wasn’t enough?

What if he decided to go after them anyway?

Those cold green eyes still lived in her memory, flicking over her like she were nothing. Like the secret she’d spent her life protecting was simply there for the taking.

How could she have been so stupid?

They’d promised to take it to their graves. She and Max had sworn, all those years ago, yet she’d still failed. Through arrogance and some misbegotten sense of pride.

“They’re in danger. And they don’t even know why.”

“We can’t tell them.” Max shook his head, stubborn as ever when he got a bit between his teeth.

“Why not? The secret’s out. Keeping it any longer won’t help them and it certainly won’t keep them safe.”

“The box was stolen. That bastard has what he came for. Now we just need to wait and let things die down. We can’t tell, Jo.”

She’d made the promise so long ago. Had sworn to her father she’d never share it, but what did it matter now? Those dark days were long gone and the need for secrecy—to keep a state secret for people who had long since stopped fighting for a cause—seemed pointless.

“What will we gain by revealing something long buried? Your father wanted all evidence removed of his involvement. He made a promise and willingly upheld his duties.”

“My father’s been gone for forty years. The war ended over sixty-five years ago. When does it stop mattering any longer?”

“The location of the jewels has never been revealed, even to this day. The location of the copies shouldn’t, either. We promised.”

The harsh light of the TV highlighted half of his face, leaving the rest in shadows. Even with the garish backwash of color, Josephine could still see the boy she fell in love with. The one she’d given her heart to so long ago.

She’d trusted him then. Had always trusted him, even when life took them in opposite directions. Even when her heart had broken in two.

Did she stop trusting him now?

Did she have a choice?

* * *

The rich scent of lasagna wafted around them but no one paid any attention as they stood around Lilah’s kitchen table, three equally large jewels covering a small cotton cloth at the center.

“Take us through it again, Max.” Tucker had already asked a few times, but Cassidy was grateful he asked again. The reality of what they had laid out before them was mind-boggling.

“When I put the box in the van I had a feeling whoever shot at us wasn’t gone. The body was too convenient. So I opened it up to get a good look. Since everything was wrapped, I grabbed what I could fit in my pocket off the top and closed it back up.” He shrugged. “I know it’s not ideal, but I figured it would give us some sort of bargaining power if we needed it.”

“Or get us all killed when whoever wants it figures out it’s gone.” Cassidy whispered the words, the images of her late brother-in-law filling her mind’s eye.

This was what Charlie had involved himself with. Greed and avarice had been his downfall and it had gotten him killed.

Gems and murder. It was like something out of the TV movies she, Lilah and Violet loved curling up with for an afternoon of bad woman-in-jeopardy television.

Only it was real.

Rock-solid, shiny, sparkling reality.

And it lay on the scarred oak table that used to belong to Lilah Castle’s grandmother.

“We have to talk to Mrs. B. about it,” Violet said, ever the voice of reason. “Then we need to give it to the detectives.”

“Right. Which eliminates any bargaining chip we have.” Lilah’s wan, pale face was drawn up, her mouth in a straight line, and Cassidy knew what she was thinking. Knew the pain she still lived with.

No matter how far her friend had come, she’d always live with the pain of her horrible first marriage. Would always carry that thin veneer of fear that she’d never truly be safe again.

“The only way we stay safe is if we each take one and hide it. It’s the only way,” Lilah said.

“Are you nuts?” Tucker’s voice exploded across the table. Although the words were in response to Lilah, his gaze was firmly planted on Cassidy. “You can’t make yourselves vulnerable like that. You need to get rid of those. Remove them and all traces they ever existed.”

“No, Lilah’s right.” Max shook his head, all his normal bluster vanished in the stark light of his impulsive decision. “I took that choice away from them when I took these.”

Violet lifted one, examined it under the light. “So we go public with them. Make a splash and show the world we’re turning them over. Whoever killed Charlie sees that and knows we’re not worth coming after.”

“Unless he thinks you held a few back for yourselves.” Tucker crossed his arms, his earlier reticence back in full force. “There’s no way whoever got their hands on this knew a full count of what’s in the box. Hell, do we even know what these are? Where they’re from? How long they’ve been buried under the floor?”

“We need to see Mrs. B. She and Max’s grandfather are at the center of this.” Cassidy knew the strange phone call from earlier coupled with Max’s lack of response from his grandfather basically confirmed their involvement. But still, they held out, keeping their own counsel. “They’re scared. They think they’re keeping us safe by keeping us in the dark.”

“They’re wrong.” Tucker’s voice was flat.

At the somber faces around the table, Cassidy knew the truth in Tucker’s words. But she also knew how unwilling Mrs. B. could be when she set her mind to something.

The woman carried a secret—had lived with it most of her life, if Max Senior’s involvement was any indication—and she wasn’t ready to give it up.

“I need to get to him. They’re vulnerable alone.”

“No one goes anywhere by themselves or stays by themselves until we figure this out.” Tucker issued the order and in that moment, Cassidy had a flash of the solider he used to be.

Strong. Forceful. Unyielding.

She’d thought Max the unspoken team lead, but the respect in his gaze told another story. They were partners. They took care of each other and depended on each other.

Just like she did with Lilah and Violet.

They were a family. Not of blood, but of the heart. And those bonds were as unbreakable as steel.

* * *

Tucker whistled for Bailey at Lilah’s back door and watched the dog bound playfully over the small patch of backyard. It wasn’t the larger space he had at his own home, but Bailey had proven himself highly adaptable the past few nights, going where he was told and keeping watch over his expanding human family.

That’s what they were. Through some unspoken agreement, the five of them had managed to become a unit in an incredibly short period of time.

Bonds forged in the fires of hell.

He’d never been big on war stories. He’d always assumed the “war is hell” tales were a way of taking the horror, dusting it off and creating a more comforting story that gave that horror distance and meaning.

How wrong he’d been.

He felt like he’d lived a lifetime in the past week. From some of the most exquisite highs he’d ever experienced to the depths of shock at the depravity of his fellow humans.

Bailey trotted past him, and he closed the door, flipping the locks.

“You ready for me to set the alarm?” Lilah stood behind him in the kitchen, her blond pixie hair sticking up where she’d repeatedly run her fingers through it, twisting the strands.

He’d watched her since Max had made his big reveal. He’d already sensed she hid something, but the sheer grit she employed as they talked through what to do with the jewels told a different story. “You doing okay?”

“Yep.” She busied herself at a keypad near the back door. He’d seen its twin at the front. “And I’ll be even better in a minute.”

She punched in a long code—that alone spoke volumes—before she gave a satisfied nod when the light flashed over to red.

“That’s quite a system. I saw the perimeter cameras when I let Bailey out.”

“A girl in the city can’t be too careful.”

“No. I guess not.”

When she said nothing else, Tucker knew that was his cue to drop it. Whatever she’d survived was her journey. Her battle.

Yet something pressed him on.

Maybe it was the oddly cathartic exposure of his own demons earlier. Or, a small voice whispered through his mind, it might just be the simple kindness of offering help to a friend in need.

“I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

“I know. Although—” she stopped, mischief twinkling in her brown eyes, chasing away the dark clouds “—I think your time’s about up to make a move on my best friend.”

“It’s not like that.”

“I sure hope it’s like that.”