Chapter Fifteen
Lindsey was filled with nervous energy when Nick hustled them out of the condo early the next morning.
“I called the pilot and told him we’d be there an hour earlier,” he told her.
“Did something happen overnight?” Oh, god. Now what? She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.
“No.” He shook his head. “I just want us out of the city in case the stalker somehow catches up with us.”
“Down on the floor again, right?” She forced a smile.
“Gotta do it, Lindsey. I refuse to take chances.”
She crouched down under the dashboard but kept her face tilted up so she could still talk to Nick. “I’m really nervous about what we’ll find in Maine.”
“I understand. But it’s the only place we’re going to get the answers you need. And hopefully get a lock on your stalker.”
“You’re right.” She tried to adjust her cramped position, closing her eyes as the truck sped along the streets. “Do we have to change vehicles again?”
“No. We’re good to go in this one.”
Finally, when they hit Interstate 10, he told her she could sit up.
“I need to be two feet shorter if we’re going to do this very often,” she grumbled.
“Sorry about that.” He reached a hand over and helped her up onto the seat.
At the airport he drove to a private hangar in the charter service area. A sleek Gulfstream Five stood glistening in the sun, the Guardian logo painted discreetly in navy blue on the white surface. A man in a pilot’s uniform came out of the building next to it and walked over to Nick.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Vanetta. It’s usually Mr. Sullivan who flies with us.”
“We decided he shouldn’t have all the fun.” Nick grinned. He turned to Lindsey. “Miss Ferrell is our client on this trip. Let’s be sure we take good care of her.”
“Absolutely.” The pilot shook Lindsey’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
A second man, also in uniform, retrieved their luggage from the car and carried it onto the plane.
Lindsey gaped when they finally climbed the stairs into the cabin. The interior was beyond anything she was used to. She and her parents had never traveled outside of Texas, preferring to take their vacations in the many spots the state had to offer. At least that’s what they had always planned. When she found it necessary to fly for whatever reason, she always felt like a sardine packed in a can.
But this…this was unbelievable. The cabin was outfitted with six lounge chairs, each with a table bolted to the floor next to it that could be swung over to use for work or dining. There were two couches and an overhead television that the chairs could be swiveled to face. To the left as they entered the jet, she glimpsed a small kitchen completely outfitted.
“There’s a bedroom and bathroom through there,” Nick pointed, “if you want to freshen up or anything.” He chuckled at the look on her face. “Not bad for a poor bodyguard, right?”
“Maybe I’m paying you too much,” she joked.
“Actually, I think you’re only paying for one of the chairs.” He buckled into the seat next to her. “We didn’t take time to eat this morning because I wanted to get going. I don’t know about you, but I’m starved. Ed will serve us breakfast once we’re off the ground. “
The flight was pleasant and comfortable. Except for the understated hum and vibration, Lindsey felt as if she were sitting in a living room. The breakfast could have come from a gourmet restaurant and was served with a minimum of fuss.
If only she wasn’t so tied up in knots.
She had to get her feelings for Nick under control. She didn’t own him, after all. Quinn had been specific about Nick’s wanderlust where women were concerned so why was she surprised when he was talking to other women while supposedly discussing a future with her? She figured all the things he’d said to her were just part of his usual treatment of whatever woman he was with.
Wait! He told you he’d never had another woman in his house.
True, but that just meant he stayed in the house of whoever he was seeing.
Sex with him had almost become addictive. Now she had to keep remembering his sweet words were just that—sweet words. Making love. No, scratch that. Better not personalize it too much. Having sex with Nick had given her an unbelievable sense of well-being. But then, the overheard telephone calls wiped away that euphoria, leaving her with a cold dose of reality.
She resented Nick playing her the way he was, making her feel something that obviously didn’t exist. When this was over, she still had to keep the pieces of her life together. Nick would no doubt go back to his normal, uncommitted life. Selfishly, she hoped he’d carry some of the memories with him, but there was no guarantee of that, either.
Well, she couldn’t say she hadn’t been warned. She’d have to look at it as a onetime gift to herself.
Despite all that, she trusted him completely to keep her safe. Today, he seemed totally relaxed, even in the face of the growing tension of the situation.
“More coffee, Miss Ferrell?”
She jumped at the sound of Ed’s voice. “No. Thank you.”
She tipped her chair back and tried to read the book she’d shoved into her purse, but after fifteen minutes, she realized she was still on the same page. Nick had taken his laptop out of his briefcase as soon as he finished eating and worked steadily until they made a brief landing at about one o’clock.
“We’re just dropping something off for Reno,” he told her. “We’ll probably top off the tanks and be wheels up again in a few minutes.”
When they were back in the air, Ed served them a lunch of club sandwiches and cold drinks. While they ate, Nick asked her again about life in Cibolo when she was growing up.
“Maybe there’s something hidden away in your mind that might give us a clue,” he pointed out.
“I doubt it.” Nervously, she tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “My life was very normal. Almost boring you might say.”
She told him stories about Ruben and Mary and talked about how she and Quinn met at school one day and instantly became friends.
“You know,” she said, wrinkling her forehead, “I remember an air of sadness that always hung over my parents. We never had relatives we visited or even had any contact with, and my parents had very few close friends. Quinn’s parents were probably the closest thing we had to an extended family.”
Nick listened attentively, and she could tell he was processing everything she said. Talking about herself and her parents took Lindsey out of the conflict raging inside her, and she began to feel the knots unravel. By the time they reached Bangor, however, the photos and the stalker were front and center in her mind again, and the knots in her stomach were retying themselves.
When she walked off the plane at the Bangor airport, she felt as if she was stepping off a precipice with a great cavern yawning before her.
It will be all right.
She had to keep telling herself that, even though no one could promise her it would be so.
A stocky man in jeans and a plaid shirt was waiting for them at the aviation office. He greeted Nick as they came off the plane. “Dan Gregory.”
“Nick Vanetta.” They shook hands. “I think you usually work with Reno.”
Dan nodded. “He called and explained what you needed. The vehicle’s over there. The dark blue one.” He pointed. “Here are the keys, and your confirmation for tonight at the Fairfield Inn right near here. You’ll also find a map of Bangor and one of Maine in the glove box.”
“Thanks.” Nick took the keys from him.
“I was able to take care of the situation on Indian Island, too.” He handed over an envelope. “All the information’s in here.”
Nick introduced Lindsey and thanked Dan for his work. After telling the pilot they’d be calling the Guardian office when they were ready for pickup, he helped Lindsey into the SUV. “The motel’s only about five minutes from here. Let’s check in and get our bearings. I want to call the office and see if they’ve come up with anything else.”
Lindsey held her breath when Nick registered for them at the hotel, then breathed more easily when the clerk handed them two keys. He handed Lindsey hers, his eyes full of questions, then picked up their luggage and headed toward their rooms.
“I have some calls to make,” he told her, unlocking her door. “After that, I think we should go over the maps Dan left for us. Would you rather do it in my room or yours?”
“Yours is fine. I’m just going to unpack enough for tonight so I won’t be a minute.”
“Good.” After making sure she was settled in her room and there were no surprises waiting for them, he unlocked the connecting door and walked into his room without another word.
His feelings couldn’t be clearer if he slammed it. But I can’t change things. In the end, I’ll be the one who gets hurt.
****
Nick ended the last of his calls and tossed the cell phone onto the table. He unfolded the maps Dan had given him but found himself unable to concentrate. What the hell was wrong with Lindsey? The way she had shut herself off from him he might as well have had the measles. He racked his brain, trying to think of anything he’d done or said that could have kicked this off but nothing clicked.
He didn’t ever remember a woman affecting him this way, slamming into him with the force of a freight train. The feelings and emotions were strange to him, but they also told him this was something special. Something he’d better take care of. For the first time in his life, he no longer had the urge to sample everything he was offered. He had a one-item menu and planned to stick to it.
If he could get Lindsey to open up to him.
Okay, so maybe this had started out with the suddenness of an explosion, but she’d been as affected as he was. He knew it. So what had made her put the brakes on? No, not just jam on the brakes but withdraw from him in all but the most polite ways? This wasn’t the time to push her, but as soon as they wrapped this up, he was damn sure going to find out.
Damn it all, anyway.
Rolling up his sleeves, he tried to turn his attention back to the maps.
****
When Lindsey walked into his room, Nick was poring over the maps spread out on the round table by the window.
“Anything?” she asked, sitting down opposite him.
“I think so, but I want to wait until we get some dinner and relax before I go over it with you. Dan marked the library on the map of Bangor and highlighted the route to Bar Harbor, so we shouldn’t have any trouble with directions.”
“What did he mean, he took care of Indian Island?”
“I wanted to be able to stay there, if possible,” he explained. “You know, blend in a little and engage people in conversation. Only there are no motels or inns on the island itself. However, Dan has a small firm here that provides security for a lot of the people on the island. One of his clients has a cottage he’s happy to let us use while we’re here.”
Lindsey cocked an eyebrow. “Is there any place where you don’t have connections?”
“I hope not.” He winked. “We’d be in big trouble if there was.”
The wink made her heart stutter, and she turned away so he wouldn’t see its effect on her.
They spent what was left of the afternoon reviewing the notes they’d made. To Lindsey it was almost as if he were making sure he had all the players organized in his mind before taking the next step. He probably saw resolution. She saw a yawning precipice and had to swallow the nausea climbing up in her throat.
They chose a restaurant near the motel for dinner. As soon as they were seated, Nick ordered drinks for them—whiskey and water. When Lindsey countered with a request for wine, Nick shook his head.
“Bourbon’s better. You’ll need something stronger.”
“You haven’t said a word about what you learned from your office. Is the news you have so bad you have to get me drunk to tell me?”
“No. I just want you fortified to absorb it.” His voice was matter-of-fact as he explained what he’d been told. “The couple in the picture is, in fact, your parents. That’s definite. The guys at the office compared the photos we found with the ones you had using facial recognition software.”
“But that’s impossible.” Lindsey felt as if she’d landed on another planet. “That just can’t be true. My parents never left Texas.”
“Not after you were born,” Nick reminded her. “Their names before that were Marie Elizabeth and Brent Andrew Dolman. They owned a large summer home on Indian Island, a place that had been in Brent’s family for years. Marie’s family also had a home there. The boy in the pictures was her older brother, George.”
Lindsey’s head was reeling, and she felt dizzy. How was all this possible? “You mean I have an uncle out there somewhere? One I’ve never even heard of, let alone met?”
“So it seems. I have people checking to see if he’s still alive and, if so, where he lives.”
She took a swallow of her drink, hoping the alcohol would steady her, grateful now for Nick’s insistence on the whiskey.
“What on earth could have happened to make them change their lives so drastically and hide away in Texas?” She shook her head in bewilderment. “Why did they feel the need to start their lives over using new identities? They left family behind and everything.”
Nick took one of her hands in his and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. “That’s as much as the office has been able to piece together so far. I’m hoping we’ll find more in the library tomorrow.”
Sparks raced through Lindsey at the physical contact with him. She looked at Nick, realized he’d felt the same thing, and pulled her hand back. Surely that wasn’t hurt on his face? Probably just wounded pride.
“This is all so…mind-boggling.” She wasn’t sure how much shocking news she could take. “Nick, if this is all true, then what happened to those two children—my sister and brother—and why did my parents change their names?” She swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat. “I don’t understand anything.”
“I want to ask you to do something.” He started to reach for her hand again, then stopped and instead fiddled with his drink. “You may not want to, but I think it’s very necessary, and now is the time for it.”
“What do you want that’s so awful? Wait. If it’s that bad, maybe I should finish my drink first.” She swallowed a large gulp and sputtered, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Easy,” Nick cautioned. “Sip, remember?”
She quickly drank some water. “I forgot this is bourbon.” She set her water glass down carefully. “Okay. Let’s have it.”
“I want you to call Mary and tell her Reno would like to come out and talk to her and Ruben. Tell her what you’ve found out so far. Give her permission to tell him whatever it is that you and I both know they aren’t telling you.”
“Oh, Nick.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if they’ll do it. I can hardly get them to talk to me. And Reno would go himself? What’s that all about?”
“This is too sensitive to send one of our agents,” he explained. “It’s obvious they know at least pieces of the story. I want whatever information they have before we go to Indian Island, if possible. Will you do it?”
Lindsey chewed on her thumbnail. “I guess so. But my asking doesn’t mean they’ll say yes.”
“I know, but at least it will open the door.”
“All right.” She took another drink of water. “I’ll do it when we get back to the motel.”
They ordered their dinner, although Lindsey wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep anything in her stomach. Everything she’d learned was too unsettling. She could hardly get her mind around the fact that her whole life had been a lie.
Back in her room, she tamped down her reservations and put the call through to the ranch. Nick stood beside her, waiting. When she told Mary what they had found so far and what she wanted her and Ruben to do, there was a long silence on the other end.
Then Ruben came on the line. “When we suggested you look in those boxes, we didn’t think you’d carry it quite this far, little one.” His voice was somber. “But I guess it’s your right to know. You finish what you’re doing and come back here. Then we’ll talk. Only to you, though. And maybe that guy you’re playing footsie with. I guess he should know, too.”
Only there’s no more footsie.
“They won’t do it.” She sighed, hanging up. “Ruben said only to me, after we get back.” She raked her hands through her hair, then pushed her glasses back up on her nose. “But we aren’t going to get anything out of them until we get back to the ranch, so we might just as well keep plunging ahead.”
“Then I think we should go to sleep,” Nick said. “I want us to be fresh for the morning.”
“Fine. I’ll see you then.”
Lindsey thought about locking the connecting door, except what if she needed him in the middle of the night? What if, God forbid, she had another nightmare? She shuddered but left the inner door unlocked. She suddenly realized how tired she was. Sleep sounded very good. She showered quickly and climbed into in the unfamiliar bed, closing her eyes.
Help me! Help me!
Her lungs were starved for air, but she kept pushing through the water. She tried to open her eyes, but her lids felt glued shut.
Hurry! Help me!
She was so tired she didn’t think she could take one more stroke, but the tiny voice kept ringing in her ears.
Hurry! Hurry!
“Lindsey. Wake up, sugar. Come on, Lindsey, snap out of it.”
There was a hand over her mouth, and she tried to pull away from it. A scream tried to push its way out of her throat.
“Lindsey, it’s me, Nick. Open your eyes for me.” The voice was insistent, penetrating the fog.
As if she was pushing boulders from her eyelids, she opened them very slowly. Nick’s face swam into her blurred vision.
“Nick?” she mumbled against the fingers on her lips.
“It’s me.” His eyes were heavy with concern. “Are you okay? Can I take my hand away?”
She nodded and opened her mouth to draw air into her lungs. When her racing heart slowed, she looked at him. “What happened?”
“You screamed so loud I expected someone to call the police. It’s a good thing you left your side of the door unlocked.”
“I screamed?” she repeated.
“I thought I’d have to suffocate you to keep you from waking up the entire motel.”
“I had the nightmare again.” She shuddered.
“Sure seems that way.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “Lindsey, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I don’t think you should be alone for the rest of the night. Will you let me sleep here with you, hold you, if I don’t make any moves?”
Certain she was making a mistake but knowing she’d be better off with him in here, she nodded and moved over to make room for him. The sight of his muscular body clad only in boxers almost made her change her mind about their relationship. But he was good as his word. He just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him in a comforting embrace.
“I hate this,” she said, her voice soft. “Hate it, hate it, hate it.”
“I know.” He tightened his arms around her. “Do you want me to get you some hot tea or something? There’s a coffee maker here that I can heat water in.”
“No.” She shook her head, burrowing against his chest. “Just hold me.”
Despite the comfort of his big, warm body, Lindsey lay awake for a long time, her mind a jumble of thoughts. Who was she really? What would they find out tomorrow? And where did the nightmare fit into all of this?