Lie by Night: An Out of Darkness novel (Entangled Ignite) Page 6

  The object of her frustration slept peacefully. Yesterday’s warrior didn’t look so fierce now. Her brow furrowed. What kind of bodyguard was he if he could sleep through her leaving the bed and moving around? She hadn’t exactly been quiet.

  She laid the note in her lap. The warehouse was gone, but she’d find another clue—and another after that if necessary—and she wouldn’t stop until she found Jacob. No matter how long it took.

  Her gaze settled on Cole. No matter whom she had to use.

  She peered at the paper in the dim light, but in her mind’s eye, she saw Jacob’s note.

  Treason. Trust no one.

  No one.

  Carefully, she folded the message, anxious to get her clothes back and continue the search.

  The note had led her to the warehouse, and, tenuous though it might be, Cole was now her only link to it. Tomorrow, she’d demand answers.

  As she drifted toward sleep, she prayed Cole would lead her to her brother.

  …

  Awakened by her first movement, Cole watched through slitted lids. Even if he’d been inclined to fall back asleep, she made a lot of noise for someone so obviously trying to be quiet. He lay still, waiting until she drifted off.

  When he was certain she slept, he sat up, somewhat rested. He had work to do.

  Rising, he cleaned up the floor. Once all items had been returned to their places, he paused and watched Emma sleep. Certain she remained deep in slumber, he retrieved his backpack. Placing it on the bed, he opened the main compartment and found the hidden zipper in the back.

  He removed his tablet from its padded resting place, smiling over the fact that Emma had missed finding it in her hurried search for weapons.

  Once he powered up the device, he linked in to Weston Security’s server, where he reviewed the frustratingly small amount of information Zach had uncovered while they slept—satellite pictures of the explosion, photos of men who matched the descriptions Cole had provided. Browsing through photo after photo of Forrester’s known associates, he finally hit pay dirt. Manuel Rodrigues, age twenty-nine, was the man who’d attacked him on the beach. A known killer with a history of running drugs and weapons. And Emma had almost faced him and his henchmen alone.

  A chill ran down his spine.

  No updates on Forrester’s whereabouts.

  He made a few quick notes for Zach, then switched his attention to flight plans and hotels. Emma didn’t know it yet, but they were headed for France to see Cherise, who they now suspected of harboring information about Jacob’s activities as well as Alistair’s location. Although they didn’t have positive proof of her connection beyond her failed relationship with Jacob, she’d shown up in the matrix of events too many times for Cole to consider it random—her relationship with Jacob had coincided with his recruitment by Alistair; her unexplained presence in Cole’s hotel room had destroyed a budding and valuable friendship with Jacob; she frequented a Parisian bakery known to be one of Alistair’s information drops.

  Coincidence? Maybe. But Cole wasn’t a big believer in coincidence.

  Unfortunately, she was also the woman who’d blown his fledgling relationship with Emma to hell. As if his investigation of Jacob wouldn’t have been enough to destroy any possibility of a relationship. That’s the real reason he hadn’t followed Emma and tried to explain he had no memory of the night with Cherise. He had been using their friendship to gather critical information that would likely be used against Jacob, and that was betrayal enough.

  As he reviewed a list of hotels and inns recommended by Weston, familiar guilt over the way Emma had discovered him with Cherise warred with his frustration over her unexpected involvement in this mess. His lips twisted. He wanted her to tell him the truth—all of it, but even if she came clean, he still couldn’t trust her completely because her loyalties lay with Jacob.

  He found a couple of places they could stay in France, powered down the tablet, and slid it into a secure pouch in his duffel bag. Unable to relax, he paced, running everything he knew and everything he did not through his mind.

  Emma was the unknown. His gut told him she knew more than she’d shared. On whose side of this battle did her withheld information place her?

  Duped or duplicitous? Emma held answers. One way or another, he’d discover her truths.

  …

  Damn! The man raked his hand through his blond hair as he paced. He should never have sent the letter.

  He never would have if he’d known Alistair had escaped, was once again free to stalk his prey. It was only a matter of time before the old bastard ruined the life he and his sister had so painstakingly built. Because the old man would find out about the letter, if he didn’t know already, and he’d figure out who sent it. Somehow, Alistair always knew.

  Stepping onto the penthouse balcony, he clutched the rail, allowing the cold metal to cool his rampaging emotions. He’d avoided the place for months, but after Zach called, it seemed appropriate to return to the place of their last showdown with Alistair and contemplate his mistakes.

  Hell, no one had been to that godforsaken island in more than a month. He’d only been trying to help. He’d never intended to put Emma in danger. But she hadn’t returned home yet, and with Alistair loose, he couldn’t search for her.

  By trying to help, he’d not only tossed her straight into the fray, but imperiled himself as well.

  Would there ever be a moment in his life when his timing didn’t suck?

  Chapter Nine

  Emma opened her eyes and blinked at the sunlight streaming through the open blinds. Cole sat at the table, fully dressed in a navy blue, linen shirt and blue jeans, a newspaper laid out before him. To the side sat a plate of half-eaten eggs.

  The sun glinted off his auburn hair, intensifying the red highlights. She studied his clean-shaven jaw. In the daylight, and well rested, he looked different than he had last night. Both younger and harder, the line of his jaw more defined than it had been six months ago.

  He looked her way. “Good morning.” He offered a smile that failed to reach his eyes.

  She brushed a lock of hair from her face. “What time is it?”

  “Almost nine. I was just about to wake you.” He gestured toward the closet. “Your clothes are back, clean and pressed and ready to wear. We can pick up something to eat on the way to the airport. We have a one-thirty flight back to Miami.”

  She examined the floor, relieved to see the clutter had been removed. Unfolding her legs, she stood. Every muscle in her body protested.

  Apparently, she needed to be more direct. “You’ll be here? I mean, you’re not going to just leave while I get ready?” Can I trust you?

  His gaze swiveled to hers. She suspected he understood quite well what she was really asking.

  They stared at each other as the seconds ticked by.

  “No, I won’t leave. I’ll wait for you then we’ll head for the airport.”

  “Okay.” Emma hurried into the bathroom where she indulged in a hot shower before slipping into her gloriously clean clothes. She had no makeup, no clothes besides the ones in which she’d fled the island—nothing except the moisturizer, lip balm, tooth brush, and comb Cole had thoughtfully provided last night. Luckily, her money, credit cards, and passport had been safely tucked into an interior coat pocket. She took the letter from her robe and slipped it in with her passport. She needed answers from Cole, but now, at least, she’d have time to get them.

  As presentable as she could be with what she had, Emma returned to the sitting room, her few personal items wrapped in Cole’s T-shirt.

  He looked up, eyes veiled as he scanned her from head to toe. “All right. Let’s take everything with us. You can have the backpack. Consider it a memento of the night you saved me from starvation.” This time when his lips curved, the humor reached his eyes.

  She shot him a sideways glance, a reluctant smile threatening as she unzipped the bag and placed the T-shirt parcel inside.

  “Aft
er we eat, we’ll head for the airport.” His eyes lingered on hers. “And while we eat, we’ll talk.”

  He shrugged into a dark brown, canvas coat, different from the one he’d worn on the island. Cleaner than the one from the island, she thought wistfully, looking down at her own worse-for-wear jacket. She wished she’d sent it to be cleaned with her clothes, but she’d been unwilling to risk losing the zip line she’d sewn inside to anchor her Mace.

  “Emma?”

  She looked up. He waited near the door, duffel bag and backpack in hand. They left the room and headed down the marble staircase.

  When they departed the inn, Cole turned right, and she followed, determined to let him make the calls for now. As long as he kept her with him. They walked in silence for a couple of blocks before he stopped in front of a café that featured burgers.

  “This okay with you?”

  Ugh, hamburger was not her favorite. “Sure, sounds great.”

  He grinned. She disliked how well he seemed to read her.

  “You’ll like it.” He opened the door, and she entered ahead of him.

  The waitress brought menus and water. Emma’s stomach growled so loudly that Cole looked up.

  “Excuse me,” he called after the waitress. “Can you start us off with cups of your seafood chowder? And, we’re in a bit of a hurry to catch a flight.”

  He raised his brow at the look on Emma’s face. “If you don’t like yours, I’ll eat it.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “I’ve been here before, and it’s delicious.”

  She ordered grilled tilapia and spinach salad. He surprised her by passing up the burger to order swordfish.

  The chowder arrived. Emma took a small bite. Delicious. She dug in, finishing her cup before Cole finished his.

  “Okay, let’s talk.” He placed his palms flat on the table. “What exactly were you doing on that island?”

  “What gives you the right to search my things?” she asked at the same time.

  Expressions somber, they faced off. She had nothing to say until he addressed the invasion of her privacy.

  He sighed, acknowledging her need for answers. “Me first. When you came to the island, you plunged right into the middle of a snake pit. The five men who were there? They’re part of the contingent behind a very dangerous man. People’s lives are on the line, good people. And now you might be in danger as well.” When she failed to respond, he shrugged. “I needed to know everything as quickly as possible.”

  “I’d already told you about the note. I would have shown it to you if you’d asked.”

  “Yes, you did. But I needed to be sure. So I searched your pockets. It helped me to see the note. I’m trained to notice things you might miss.”

  “Like the fact that whoever wrote it disguised their handwriting in children’s script?”

  “Yeah.”

  She raised her brow. “So, Mr. Trained Professional, what else did you learn?”

  Cole paused as the waitress placed their food on the table. “Whoever wrote the note either wants you to find Jacob or wanted to capture you. Given the welcoming party they sent for you, I’m thinking they were after you.”

  “Or after you.”

  “When the men were on the radio, I heard them reference the lady.”

  She forced a bite of tilapia down, her appetite suddenly gone.

  “Any idea why they might be after you?”

  She shook her head, keeping her face carefully blank. Her heart raced with fear that the wrong people knew about the microchip.

  “I can also tell you’ve handled the letter so often that any finger prints were likely destroyed.”

  She forked another bite and nodded.

  “Well, don’t feel bad about it. If the sender went to a lot of trouble to disguise his or her handwriting, likely, there weren’t fingerprints. Okay, my turn. What were you doing on the island?” He started to eat.

  “I don’t understand. You read the note.”

  “Yes, I did. But that doesn’t explain why you would get on a plane based on nothing more than an anonymous note.” He tapped his fingers against the table and waited.

  She took a long drink of water. “A little over a week ago, Jacob disappeared.” She bit the inside of her lip. “He’d left the country the month before. I don’t know where he went. He calls me every few days when he can. The last time I talked with him was about two weeks ago. Two days ago, I received an anonymous letter in the mail. It told me to come to James Island and find the old man. It said…well, you saw it.”

  “Don’t tell anyone.”

  With a trembling sigh, she nodded. “Jacob’s life depends on it.”

  Cole’s tapping became more pronounced. “And you…what? You hopped on a plane and took off half way around the world, hitched a ride with some stranger out to an island in the middle of nowhere? Then you set off across the island with no back up?”

  “Didn’t you already give me a hard time about this?” She did not need another lecture from him.

  Strangers at nearby tables turned to stare. His ears reddened. “Yeah, well, I’m having a little trouble getting past it.” He lowered his voice. “Is it unusual for Jacob to leave for weeks at a time in his job?”

  She shook her head.

  “What made you think something was wrong? Wrong enough that you would take off on some half-baked mission to find him?”

  If she hadn’t been so busy trying to decide how much to tell him, she would have been affronted by his insults. “I…I knew something was wrong. Jacob never just disappears. He always lets me know he’ll be gone—even if he can’t tell me where he’s going.” She still had questions about Cole and his supposed friendship with Jacob. Until she knew more, she wasn’t revealing everything to a man she didn’t trust, a man who had military contacts. Treason. “I just knew.”

  He measured her words. “And why didn’t you call someone?”

  “Who would I call?” For a brief moment, he had been a person she might call. “And…” She brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. “I was armed. I have Mace, and brains, and years of self-defense classes.”

  His infuriating silence continued.

  “Apparently, it was enough to save you.” She took her last bite of food and placed her fork neatly by her plate.

  “Who was—” He caught himself when she cast a sharp glance his way. “I’m sorry, who is Jacob working for?”

  “The government.”

  “Which agency?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, he couldn’t tell me. Why are you so interested in Jacob?”

  He shrugged.

  “Do you think he’s hunting the people you warned me about?”

  Face impassive, he responded, “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? What…” Warning bells sounded as an ugly suspicion took shape. “You suspect my brother?” When he failed to respond, the answer became glaringly obvious. And his betrayal of Jacob’s friendship took on darker meaning. “When did you become suspicious of Jacob?” She asked the question, but God help her, she already knew the answer.

  He’d never been Jacob’s friend at all.

  …

  Cole cursed silently as color drained from Emma’s face. Aside from her ridiculous plan to come to this island, the woman was entirely too smart, too perceptive. “What do you mean?” Sure, it was a lame response, but other than the truth, it was the best he had.

  “Did you…did you become friends with Jacob on purpose, because you suspected him of…” She faltered as rising anger reddened her cheeks.

  Cole met her gaze dispassionately. “I arranged to meet Jacob because we suspected he was involved with a very dangerous man, Alistair Forrester.” Although he watched her face closely, he saw no sign of recognition. “However, I didn’t pretend to be friends with Jacob. I genuinely liked him.” I genuinely liked you.

  She snorted. “All evidence to the contrary.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, b
ut she waved a hand to silence him. “Because you destroyed my only clue, because you obviously know more than I do about what’s going on…” She stared hard at him. “And because someone has to look out for my brother’s interests, I’ll be sticking with you until we find Jacob.”

  Frustrated, Cole shoved back from the table. Although she might not realize it, he recognized what was happening. She was placing trust in him—trust that he’d lead her to her brother, trust that he’d realize her brother was innocent.

  Trust was a tenuous thing in the best of circumstances. He only hoped he wouldn’t be forced to betray her belief in him, hoped she was tough enough and smart enough to survive whatever came next.

  He stood and tossed some bills on the table. Emma scrambled to her feet.

  “I’m going with you.” She grabbed her coat.

  He bit back a smile. Maybe he’d underestimated her again. Her trust in him clearly came with reservations—hell, she still thought he might try to leave without her. He grabbed his duffel and backpack. “You’re damned right you are.”

  “We’ll find Jacob, and you’ll see. He’s one of the good guys…one of the best.”

  Cole hoped she was right.

  Together, they stepped out of the dusky cafe and into the bright light. Not exactly partners, but not quite enemies, either.

  Chapter Ten

  Emma hustled along behind Cole as his long legs devoured the distance between the entrance to the airport and the ticket counter. They’d arrived only minutes earlier to discover the flight to Miami had been moved up half an hour.

  What kind of airport moved a flight earlier?

  From Miami, they were headed to France. She’d been able to wheedle that much information on the way to the airport. He hadn’t said much about their destination—only that a contact in France might know something about Jacob’s whereabouts.

  He weaved in and out of travelers, leaving her practically running to keep up. As she approached the counter, a bear of a man stepped in front of her, leering. “Hey, there, missy. How about you and me get a cup of coffee?” The man’s rank breath washed over her as he reached a meaty hand her way.