Trust No One (17 page)

One time, Tasha had managed to talk MJ into hiking to the road so they’d be able to hitchhike back to the house. All they managed to do was get lost in the woods, which forced Niko and Ed to track them down.

What was Tasha thinking now? Having experience with the troublemaker, the question made MJ leery.

Then she realized she might not have understood Tasha’s letter. After all this time, did Lauryn still own the cabin? MJ straightened and left Ed’s office and turned down the hall to find Lauryn.

MJ took note of her surroundings while she moved through the house. Everything was as she expected. Neutral color scheme, clean and organized to the point of military precision. Surely Annie had retired by now, but Lauryn must have replaced the housekeeper. MJ couldn’t picture Lauryn cleaning house herself.

At the family room, which blended into the large kitchen with top of the line stainless steel appliances MJ bet were rarely used, the floor changed from plush beige carpet back to the same multi-toned tan tile in the hallway. Lauryn sat at the breakfast table, by the requisite bay window, sorting through a stack of mail.

“I sold it,” Lauryn said in answer to MJ’s question about the cabin. “A buyer approached out of the blue. I’d forgotten about the thing.”

“Oh.” Now what? If the cabin was gone, what could Tasha’s cryptic letter mean?

“I hated that thing, only too glad to let it go.” Lauryn continued thumbing through the day’s mail. She stopped, pulled an envelope from the stack and handed it to MJ.

“Thanks,” MJ said with her poker-face in place, taking yet another typewritten envelope addressed to her as if it were ordinary for her to be receiving mail there. She felt a key shape beneath her fingers. “I’m going to look around in Ed’s office a bit more,” she said not making mention of the new letter. Or the contents of the other letter.

Lauryn stared at MJ but refrained from asking questions. Perhaps living with Ed so long taught her it didn’t pay to be inquisitive.

“Will you be leaving immediately?” Lauryn asked, then hurriedly added, “I suppose that sounded rude.”

No, it sounded typical.

“I asked because I’ll be leaving soon for a dinner meeting. If you plan on staying, I can order–"

“If I planned on staying, I wouldn’t mind fending for myself.” MJ kept a pleasant look on her face. No time to waste over something as petty as being run off. She had showed up uninvited, after all. “As it is, I’ll be leaving within the hour. I’m sorry I can’t stay and visit longer.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t find anything helpful.”

MJ fingered the key shape through the envelope. “I found enough to know I’m going to have to keep looking."

“I’ve got to get ready for my dinner, then. If you need anything else–"

“I’ll find you, thanks.” MJ went back to the study and this time took the liberty to sink into Ed’s well-worn leather desk chair, the seat still bowed from years of molding around his body. Aged to perfection he’d say before lifting her onto his knee. At the time, she was the only one still young enough to be lifted onto anyone’s knee, something that quickly changed. Still, at the time it had offered her a bit of comfort and security as he must have known it would.

MJ let the leather scent fill her lungs as she took a deep breath. Releasing it a moment later as a sigh, she reminisced.

Ed might not have been a born Bill Cosby type father, but he did step into fatherhood as well as anyone could have expected. Time and distance had erased too many memories of her real father, and those memories of Ed were about all she had.

And yet they served no purpose now, other than a moment to remember and mourn. On so many levels she regretted not being able to attend Ed’s funeral. But perhaps it was best, since she hadn’t seen the casket resting beside an open grave, it was easier to imagine him still alive and at work. Maybe not healthy, but easier to deal with given all the challenges life had thrown her way these last few years.

And with that she recalled just why she was here in Indianapolis sitting in Ed’s chair. Sighing, she turned her attention to the envelope addressed to her—no postmark, the stamp hadn’t been cancelled—not the handiwork of the mailman.

With reluctance, MJ tore open the envelope, more than certain she didn’t want to know what Tasha had left. The key she’d felt was wrapped in a piece of paper which turned out to be a map. At the top, in Tasha’s handwriting read: “Enjoy your stay.”

MJ looked at the map. So Tasha had been the one who’d bought the cabin. MJ had never actually driven to the cabin, but she knew the general area. Guess she was about to get her first experience.

Of course, this meant more driving, more searching, more time away. MJ’s neck muscles tensed, she needed sleep. Why the hell was Tasha dragging this out? Her natural tendency for being in charge and control? A hankering for drama?

Nothing really made sense.

If MJ were in the unlikely position of killing senators, she wouldn’t want to risk a chance of being found. And here Tasha was giving her a map? What did Tasha want MJ to know? What had been in those damn papers that Tasha had taken?

If only MJ knew where Nikolai was, he would help her track his sister. But Tasha had indicated she knew her brother was missing. What was the story there? Too many questions, not enough answers.

MJ laid her head on the desk, the smooth wood cool beneath her cheek. Maybe she should find a hotel and some sleep first before she drove for another hour to the cabin, and then something might make sense. Tasha. Nikolai.

Ah, Niko, she sighed. Her eyes drifted shut. Memories of him held a special place in her heart. First lovers always did.

* * *

MJ heard the faint sound of a phone ringing in another room. She opened her eyes, blinked, still immersed in feelings as satisfying as sinking into a warm bubble bath.

Most of the time she kept memories of Niko buried far into the recesses of her heart, only bringing them out occasionally to examine.

All too soon Niko had graduated from college summa cum laude and just as planned got his first Vista assignment. An overseas assignment to Russia, of course.

They both understood, without discussing it, that the work they’d do for Vista was demanding and dangerous, and they would likely be in different parts of the world and never have time to continue even a part-time relationship. So MJ kissed Niko goodbye and watched him drive off to his new life.

After that, they would go months, sometimes years, without crossing each other’s paths other than an occasional phone call. And while their time together had been special, something she treasured, they were often painful to examine. A promise of something out of reach. Something she’d tried to create with Keith and failed miserably. Yeah, like she’d never try that again.

She’d thought more of Niko in the last days than she’d thought of him in months.

She understood Niko, but she never managed to understand Tasha. Not then. Not now. Especially not now. MJ had no clue what the hell the woman was trying to accomplish. And she wouldn’t find any more answers here. Time to move on.

MJ pushed away from Ed’s desk, gave a final look around the room, and tracked down Lauryn one last time. After saying her goodbyes, she opened the front door, irritated that more than likely she was venturing on a trail to nowhere. Forced to go on a path to who knew where, with simply no choice in the matter.

And, if she pulled the front door shut a little harder than she should, who could blame her?

* * *

Sweat oozing out of his pores, muscles shaking with fatigue, and his shoulder burning like hot coals had been packed into the wound, Ben blinked the haze away from his eyes and checked the GPS tracking system. MJ’s car had been stopped again for almost two hours now. Did that mean she’d found Tasha already or had she stopped to rest? If she hadn’t stopped earlier, he’d have never gotten this close.

As much as Ben wanted this damn job over, he hoped MJ hadn’t caught up with Tasha yet. He needed a few hours sleep and another painkiller. Or a shot of whiskey. Man, wasn’t that a bitch. Dealing with a gunshot and an alcohol craving. Who would’ve thought?

As Ben followed the GPS tracking signal, he turned into a housing division, losing hope that she’d stopped at a hotel. The next best thing would be that she was waiting for Tasha to show up, and he’d have time to take a nap. And, worse case, if Tasha were there, he’d have to figure out a way to get them both back to Vista.

But all his hopes for a nap were dashed as he pulled up to a two story brick house. MJ’s pink Mustang was parked in the driveway. Good. But she had key in hand, obviously about to unlock the door, climb in and leave. As he pulled into the driveway behind her car, she turned to look.

Her eyes widened as he stepped out—okay, stumbled out, and nearly fell flat on his face when his legs refused to cooperate. He caught himself on the car door and pulled himself upright.

He smiled. Or tried to smile. Charm would win them every time.

She frowned. “What the hell . . .”

So he was a little short on charm right now. “You forgot something,” he told her.

“Yeah? What?”

“Me.”

Chapter 10

MJ swallowed her surprise. She expected Ben to be asleep on her couch or just waking up to stumble on his merry little way back to Vista. She didn’t expect him here. She said the first thing that came to her mind. “You look like hell.”

He wore a button up white-and-blue plaid shirt, obviously easier to pull on than the sweatshirt she’d given him. But the buttons were only half way done, leaving a good part of his chest exposed. He hadn’t managed to tuck the tail inside jeans either and his disheveled look had more of an effect on her than she would ever admit. God would only know what sort of pheromones she’d be putting off now.

So she fought against remembering that earlier she’d had to cut off Ben’s shirt, leaving that chest that was so temptingly exposed right now totally naked to her view and her fingers.

“You, however, after driving close to twenty hours with no sleep, and no gunshot wound, I might add, look as beautiful as ever.”

His words didn’t help the direction her thoughts were dancing. She shook her head, determined not react. Or to feel sympathy for him since he looked as if he were ready to topple.

“Where’d you put it?” She walked around her Mustang. “Or are you psychic?”

“Psychic would be better. That way I would’ve known where you were going, and wouldn’t have had to follow.” He closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath. “Back bumper, right side.”

MJ, feeling stupid she’d underestimated Ben, found the little GPS tracking device. “Having brains would be even better than being psychic. What were you thinking driving after me? You need to be resting.”

He hung onto the car door like it was a lifeline. “You. Didn’t. Give me time.” He pushed off the door, hobbled forward, holding out his hand for the small black box with the magnetic strip on the back. That simple move was too much, and he faltered. In slow motion, he slowly sank downward. She caught him before his knees hit the pavement, using her leg muscles to brace them both, keeping them semi-standing.

His touch burned her, and not from any sexual awareness. His skin simply radiated dry heat. “Damn. You’re hot.”

“Thanks, honey. You’re hot, too, but I have a headache right now.”

“Stop being an ass. You have a fever.”

“Goes along with a gunshot.”

“Fool. You should have stayed where I left you.” Her tone softened. She wanted to smooth his hair from his brow, but he was hanging so heavily onto her, his uninjured arm across her shoulder for support, it was all she could do to keep them upright.

“You shouldn’t have drugged me and left. If you’d just taken me with you, I wouldn’t have had to drive this whole way.”

Guilt pecked at her. She tried to avoid looking at him, knowing a myriad of unexpected and unwanted emotions she hadn’t had time to hide were in her eyes. “I didn’t need you.” Didn’t trust him either.

“You’re my job. Always. Do. My. Job.” His words were interspersed with pauses for him to draw in enough air to speak and stay upright too, she suspected. She imagined his heart was hammering against his rib cage from the effort to stay on his feet. Amazing he’d made it so far.

“Come inside, get something to drink and rest for a minute. Take some more medicine.” She tried to steer him toward the door, but he resisted.

“Hell no, honey, I’m not taking any medicine from you. And I’m going to wait right here in the car while you check with—Lauryn, is it?—to see if you can leave your car here.”

Her spine stiffened at his words. For someone who couldn’t stand on his own two legs, he was certainly attempting to take charge. “Leave my car?”

“We’re together from here on out. I figured she’d object less to watching your car than a rental.”

MJ started to argue, then remembered Ed driving down gravel roads to get to the cabin. She had no idea if they’d been paved yet, and she would prefer not to ding the costly new paint job on her car.