Shattered Secrets Page 2

  Had she done the right thing in calling Sal for help? She knew of his work for S&J Security/Protection, knew he would protect her with his own life, but could she afford what that protection involved? Inviting him back into her life spelled trouble, if not disaster.

  He’d broken her heart when he walked away. If it happened again, she wasn’t sure she’d survive.

  “This case you’re trying, is there anything about it to make someone threaten you?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts. The pensive quality in his voice told her he was trying to make sense of the attack, just as she was. The knowledge that he was on her side warmed her.

  “You mean aside from the millions of dollars it’s going to cost the company if we win?”

  “Yeah. Besides that.”

  Deep lines scoured Sal’s forehead. Despite that, he was more attractive than ever. His appeal came from something that went much deeper than superficial good looks to the very core of the man. The steadiness in his gaze, the acceptance of who and what he was, would always set him apart from other men. There’d been a time when her heart had raced when she looked at him.

  His large body blocked much of the light given from the desk lamp, but even in that muted light, she could detect the near black of his irises. They were a compelling color. Just like the man himself.

  “I’m looking for something more personal. Anything that would give someone a score to settle with you.”

  “I’m the lawyer of record. Another member of the firm could have handled it, but I wanted it.” After twenty-one children had died as a result of the company substituting fake medicine for the real thing, the parents had retained Chantry & Hammond to represent them in the deaths. Her lips drew tight in silent fury at the thought that children had died due to greed.

  Olivia pushed her chair back from the desk, stood and started to pace. “Parents are depending upon me to get justice for their children. I have no intention of letting them down.” Or herself.

  “You care about the kids who died, their parents.” The quiet understanding in Sal’s voice was balm to her soul.

  A few disgruntled colleagues, two in particular, had accused her of wanting a big payoff as her part of the settlement. Olivia hoped the settlement the parents received would be generous, but no amount could make up for the loss of a child. She planned on donating any fee she made to the families, many of whom were still paying off medical bills.

  Tears leaked from her eyes over what the parents had endured. No parent should lose a child.

  Sal rose, started to move toward her, then paused.

  Olivia noticed an odd expression in his eyes and wondered what had caused it.

  He didn’t give her the opportunity to puzzle over it. “What’s Chantry been working on lately?”

  The abrupt change of subject startled her, causing her to stop midstride as she thought about it. “He’s been spending more and more time away from the office. He told me he’s practicing for when he retires.” A half smile touched her lips before slipping away. “I teased him that he wouldn’t know how to retire. He gave me this funny look and said I might be surprised.”

  “Funny? How?”

  She lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. Just different.”

  Though Sal seemed disappointed that she couldn’t be more specific, he didn’t press the issue. “Okay. Let’s try another tack. Tell me about him. What he likes. What he doesn’t. Who he hangs out with.”

  “You can’t believe Calvin has anything to do with this.” She couldn’t keep her irritation from showing. He didn’t know Calvin the way she did or he wouldn’t be asking questions like this.

  Tension crackled.

  “You said the men mentioned your boss,” Sal reminded her.

  “So I did, but like I told you, Calvin would never have anything to do with men like that. He’s too—” she searched for the right word “—refined.” Her stomach rumbled, and she flattened a hand against it with an embarrassed laugh. “It’s been a long time since lunch.”

  “Come to think of it, I’m hungry, too. I’ll run out and get us something. Is Thai all right? I saw a restaurant advertising genuine Thai cuisine around the corner. We can talk while we eat.”

  “Perfect.”

  In truth, she welcomed a few minutes to herself. Sal’s presence filled the small office, as though the very air was absorbing his unflagging energy and unflinching courage. She wanted to breathe it in, that potent mix, and take it inside her. At the same time, she felt almost light-headed as the strength of his personality threatened to consume her. And then there were the disturbing questions about Calvin.

  She leaned back, closed her eyes and felt some of the strain of the last twenty-four hours leave her body.

  It was then that the call came, the call that sent her world into a freefall and her emotions into a frenzy of fear.

  “We have your boss.” The mechanically altered voice, giving no hint as to who was speaking, sent a chill of foreboding skittering down her spine. “Wait for further instructions. Do not go to the police or FBI, not if you want to get Calvin Chantry back alive.” A breath-stealing pause. “If you tell anyone about this, you will both pay the price.”

  Olivia’s thoughts raced, even as her heart did a double beat. The threat was clear: talk and she’d put her life as well as Calvin’s in jeopardy.

  She wasn’t a coward, but right now, she was scared right down to her toes.

  TWO

  After spending ten years in the mountains of Afghanistan, Sal was still adjusting to being home in Georgia, with its supercharged humidity and honeyed air. Though he’d been back in the States for over three years, he was still struggling with the difference in climate. The heavy smog that had hung over the city was absorbed into the darkening sky and was only a memory, but the humidity hung in the air and played havoc with his right shoulder, which still carried pieces of shrapnel from enemy fire, a souvenir from his days as a sniper’s spotter. Even in the air-conditioned offices, he felt the clamminess that clung to his skin like cheap polyester.

  But it wasn’t the heat or even the energy-stealing humidity that caused him to go on high alert. Something was wrong. His senses flared in alarm at an unknown threat.

  He felt it in the tension that pulsed in the air, saw it in the drawn lines that had moved into Olivia’s face in the short time he was gone to pick up dinner.

  “What is it?”

  She turned away for a few seconds as if gathering her thoughts. When she faced him once more, she smiled brightly. No doubt she believed she’d successfully hidden whatever was bothering her, but it wasn’t good enough to fool him. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

  On the surface, she sounded calm, even convincing, but something was off. Her smile was too wide, her voice too determinedly cheerful. Her eyes were full of turmoil that hadn’t been there thirty minutes ago. She’d barely picked at the plate of steaming food he’d set in front of her.

  “Something happened. You might as well tell me because I’m not going anywhere.”

  “What? Are you my keeper now?” The harsh words appeared to have surprised her as much as they did him.

  “Olivia.” He kept his voice soft. He didn’t want to spook her. “What happened?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, bringing you all the way here. I realize I overreacted about the whole break-in thing.” She gave a forced laugh, the sound only deepening the taut atmosphere that charged the air. “I’m fine. Really.” Another laugh. “I appreciate you coming all this way, but you don’t need to stay. I’m sure you have real work, something better than babysitting me.”

  The dismissal in the words had him wincing. Well, she’d find that it wasn’t so easy to send him packing.

  Sal went at a problem straight-on and didn’t turn away until he had a solutio
n. Seeing Olivia again wasn’t the usual kind of problem. Charging at it full speed ahead wouldn’t change the way things had ended between them. Nor would pretending that he no longer had feelings for her.

  Right now, he had to put those feelings away and find out what she was hiding from him. That required finesse, not Delta strong-arm tactics.

  “You don’t look fine. You look like you’d blow away if I breathed on you too hard.” It was no exaggeration. Olivia looked like a strong sigh would topple her. Shadows, as deep as a Georgia night, had taken up residence under her eyes.

  Her earlier smile had vanished, a frown taking its place. “Thanks. I needed that.” The sarcasm in her words didn’t get to him, but the flash of hurt in her eyes did.

  Sal wanted to kick himself. From the moment he’d shown up in Olivia’s office that morning, he’d blundered. Big-time. The drive from Atlanta to Savannah, plus worry for Olivia, had ratcheted up his impatience and sent his tact, never abundant under the best of circumstances, into a nosedive. That was no excuse, though.

  Something had caused Olivia to turn her back on his help.

  “You know I can’t leave you. Not like this. Tell me.”

  Her frown darkened into a scowl, the lines of it so hard that he thought her face would break. She squared her shoulders, as though she needed to shore up her resolve. Chin pulled in, she gave the impression of a queen looking down at her subject. The effect was mitigated by the quiver of her lips. “I told you. I’m fine. You can go back to Atlanta.”

  Sal had been trained in interpreting microexpressions, those unconscious gestures that revealed far more than words. His Delta unit had been assigned to Counter Terrorism for a stint.

  The CT boys knew their stuff when it came to ferreting out information from suspected terrorists. Once back in the States, he’d gone to work for S&J Security/Protection, named for its founders Shelley Rabb Judd and her brother Jake Rabb.

  Shelley, an ex–Secret Service agent, had shown Sal other tricks in detecting lies. Not much got by him.

  Olivia’s gaze kept sliding to her left, a telltale sign that she was lying. “You have to go. Please.”

  The plea in her voice caused him to frown. Gone was the calm of a moment ago. She sounded frantic. He was more certain than ever that something was going on, something that terrified her at least as much as last night’s attack.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  She shook her head from side to side, as though willing away whatever had scared her. “N-nothing.”

  Sal fitted his finger beneath her chin, raising it until her gaze was level with his. She held it for a moment before looking away. “You always were a poor liar.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “No? Then why can’t you look me in the eye?”

  “Please, Sal.” Her voice hitched on a tiny sob. “You don’t understand.”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders. “What don’t I understand? Tell me, Livvie. I want to help.”

  “It’s Calvin. Someone took him.” Her shoulders trembled beneath his hands. “They said if I contact the police or the FBI, they’ll kill him.” She waited a beat. “And me, if I tell anyone.”

  Sal took a moment to absorb that. “I’m not police or FBI,” he pointed out at last. “What are you going to do?”

  She thrust out her chin. “I’ll find out what they want and deliver it.” The steel was back in her voice.

  Sal kept his face impassive, but his mind was churning through possibilities. None of them good. As capable and intelligent as she was, Olivia was no match for kidnappers. He wasn’t going anywhere, but first, he had to convince her that she needed him. “What if I promise to not interfere and to keep a low profile?”

  “I can’t risk it.”

  “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice because I’m not leaving.”

  “Then I guess you’re staying.” The begrudging tone told him that she didn’t want him there but was glad he was there anyway.

  A smile tugged at his lips. That was Olivia. Self-sufficient to a fault. Her mouth trembled, though, mute evidence that she wasn’t as confident as she pretended. If he hadn’t looked closely, he would have missed it.

  Olivia put a hand to her mouth, as though aware of the giveaway. He didn’t comment on it. She wouldn’t appreciate the observation.

  For a fraction of a moment, he wondered why he was trying so hard to convince her to let him help.

  Not for the first time, he wondered why he had been born with a conscience that was as much taskmaster as moral compass. He should walk away from Olivia and her problem, content in the knowledge that he’d tried to help. The few times he’d ever ignored his conscience, however, he’d lived to regret it.

  He had enough regrets to last several lifetimes.

  * * *

  One look at Sal and Olivia knew she’d have a fight on her hands to convince him that she could handle this on her own. The sharp angles of his face were cast in even harsher lines than usual.

  It was his warrior face, one she’d seen only once before but the memory was forever etched in her mind. Two men had tried to rob her and Sal as they’d left a restaurant one night. One of the men had pushed her to the ground, causing her to cry out.

  Sal had taken them down quickly and efficiently. When he’d turned to her, the ferocity in his eyes had sent her pulse into overdrive.

  “The police will be here in a minute,” she’d said to defuse the anger that radiated from him.

  “They wanted more than to rob us. If they had hurt you...”

  “I’m okay. Thanks to you.” The experience had made her determined to never again be so powerless and she’d started studying martial arts.

  He still wore the mantle of the soldier he’d been across his shoulders, telegraphing an innate desire to protect, to defend, to stand between danger and those weaker than himself. He was a good man, an honorable man, whose self-assurance and unshakable sense of justice defined him as much as the dark hair and skin that hinted at his Italian ancestry.

  Against her will, Olivia felt herself responding to his appeal. To him. That stunning realization unfolded in the space of one heartbeat and shocked her into stillness. With an effort, she did her best to ignore it.

  He looked the same as he had the last time she’d seen him, right down to the off-center dimple that punctuated his chin. She longed to smooth her finger in that shallow dent. Deliberately, she fisted her hands at her sides to keep from doing that very thing.

  She couldn’t deny the frisson of pleasure she’d experienced when he’d walked into her office that morning as the sky grew pink with dawn. Nor could she shake off the sweet memories that assailed her, memories she’d locked away for two long years.

  Olivia wanted to believe he was here because he cared about her, but she knew better. She pushed from her mind the unwelcome memory of how they’d parted, and concentrated on the present.

  She let her gaze take in the man who had once meant so much to her. At five feet and nine inches, she was hardly petite. Still, she had to look up at Sal, who stood a good five inches over six feet. Broad shoulders, narrow waist and legs that were as sturdy as telephone poles, not to mention a military bearing, gave him an imposing presence.

  No, there was nothing soft about Salvatore Santonni. With hard planes and abrupt angles, his face would never place him in the pretty-boy category. It had too much strength and stubborn resolve for such insipid looks and bore the lines and ruggedness that came from long hours exposed to the wind and the sun. His dark eyes missed nothing and portrayed a startling intensity.

  Arms folded across his wide chest, he broadened his stance as though preparing for resistance. He knew her too well and had already anticipated her response.

  But how else could she react? This was Calvin’s life they were t
alking about. She had to do what the kidnappers said. Exhaustion and hunger dragged at her, but it was the riot of emotions roiling through her that had turned her stomach inside out and her mind to mush.

  She wet her lips. “I can’t risk involving you,” she said at last, panic rising with each syllable. “The kidnappers will know.”

  “How will they know?”

  “I don’t know.” She all but shouted the words. “All I know is that I have to do what they said. If I don’t... Calvin will die. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let it.”

  “Just how do you plan to get him back? Ask nicely and hope the kidnappers play by the rules?”

  Resentment filled her. Sal wasn’t responsible for bringing Calvin home safely. She was. With renewed purpose, she squared her shoulders and braced herself for what came next.

  “You won’t get Chantry back on your own. Take a breath and then we’ll decide on our next step.”

  “You can’t be here. They’ll know.”

  Sal knelt in front of her. “You can do this. We can do this. But we have to be smarter than the bad guys.” He took her hands and folded them inside his own. “Whoever’s behind this is counting on you reacting with fear. You’re smarter than that.”

  “Am I?” She hated the self-doubt in her voice and looked down at their clasped hands. Then raised her gaze to his. His dark eyes locked on hers. She saw strength and courage there. Maybe she could draw on some of his when her own was so lacking. Before she thought better of it, she voiced her thoughts aloud.

  “I didn’t want to call you.” The admission cost her, but she plunged on. “I didn’t want to lean on you, but I’m doing exactly that.”

  “You can lean on me whenever you like,” he said.

  In that instant, she thought of the Lord and remembered that He’d said that all who came to Him could lean on Him.