Hidden Truth. Danica Winters
at him. “For all we know, one of them is the one who pulled the trigger—or else they’re lying out there in the woods somewhere, too. Either those bastards are on the run or they aren’t going to be spilling any secrets any time soon.”
“Do you think I should go back out there? See if I can find them? Make sure that they’re going to stay quiet?”
Chad stared out in the direction of the main pasture, but Trevor could tell that he wasn’t really looking at anything. “I’ll talk to Zoey and see if we can find out a little more on these Cussler guys. I want to know how many hillbillies were living out there, and who would have wanted them dead. I want to make sure that whoever is responsible for pulling that trigger isn’t about to bear down on us.”
His brother was right. They needed to make sure they weren’t about to be ambushed.
“Most importantly,” Chad continued, “I want you to keep Sabrina quiet. If you don’t…you know what’s at stake.”
“She won’t be a problem.” Trevor paused, thumbing the gun at his side and letting it comfort him from his barrage of thoughts. “Hey…you don’t think these Cussler guys have anything to do with STEALTH, do you?”
Chad shook his head, but from the way his face pinched, Trevor could tell that he was wondering the same thing. “Bayural and the Gray Wolves couldn’t know that we are here. Zoey has made it her business to make sure of it. Everything we did has been in cash, or through Bitcoin. We’re covered.”
“Just because our sister is a computer whiz, it doesn’t mean that we are safe. You know how easy it is to find someone, especially a group like our family. One stupid random selfie with us in the background and we’re in danger. They are using the same facial recognition software that we are.”
“Zoey has this under control,” Trevor said, trying to give them both a little comfort—it had always been his job to keep the peace within the family, a job that had proven harder than ever thanks to his failure with Trish. His mistake was something that neither he nor the rest of his siblings would ever forget. “Besides, Zoey has made it her personal mission to keep them chasing fake hits around the globe. From what she said this morning, she currently has us pinging at a marketplace in Cairo.”
Chad chuckled. “God, can you imagine those bastards’ faces when they realize that they’ve been set up? I would almost pay to see it.”
There was the clatter of pans hitting the floor from inside the kitchen.
Chad bounded up the porch steps and cracked the door. “Sabrina, you okay in there?”
“Fine, just fine!” she called back, sounding harried.
“Where did you find this woman?” Trevor asked, motioning toward the house.
“She came recommended from Gwen when we bought the ranch. They hired her when they were getting the ranch ready for us to take it over.”
“So, just because our cousin—whom we barely know—thinks this woman is trustworthy, you took her word for it?” Trevor was surprised. Chad wasn’t one for details but he was normally careful about who they brought into their lives.
“Brotato chip, you seriously have to pull the stick out of your ass. You’re starting to act like Jarrod.”
He was nothing like their oldest brother. Jarrod had been a lone wolf since the moment he called upon them to take their positions within the business. After he had set up STEALTH he hit the road, looking for assignments from various governments.
“I hope Zoey looked into her background,” Trevor pressed.
“Of course. Zoey said she was clean, nothing too much to tell. Looks like Sabrina had been travelling around the world with her military family until she turned eighteen, just working odds-and-ends jobs since then.”
It was in line with the little Sabrina had told him, but something still felt wrong. Trevor glanced toward the kitchen where Sabrina was working. Maybe someday, if he could just ease himself back into being a civilian, something might start feeling right.
A man could only hope.
She sat in the corner of the barn, letting the streak of morning sun that was leaking through the siding spread over the tips of her boots. Though the beam had to be warm, she couldn’t feel it through the leather. Maybe the sun was just like the rest of her life…pretty to look at, but completely devoid of feeling.
Then again, yesterday had been full of them—at least when it came to Trevor. She glanced down at her phone and his picture. The photo was sharp, black-and-white, typical of the FBI. And yet it didn’t really capture the man she had met. No, in real life he was far less imposing than he seemed in the picture. The photo failed to show the way it felt to stand there encircled in his arms, and then to realize that he had been playing her from the moment they met.
She flipped to the email from her handler, Agent Mike Couer, and stared at the man’s instructions. She’d have to play nice, get along and then get out of there. If she didn’t screw this up, she could be in and out without the Martins even knowing who she was or what she did. She’d made it this far; as long as she didn’t get wrapped up in another set of arms, she’d be just fine.
For a moment she considered calling Mike and telling him about the body they had found, but she stopped. There wasn’t enough evidence to track this back to the family. Sure, she could probably take Trevor down for the murder, but that wasn’t what she was here for; no, she was here for them all. They had to be stopped before they put any more weapons into the hands of terrorist organizations…and that was to say nothing of the lives that they themselves had snuffed out. This family was likely responsible for the deaths of thousands of people, if not tens of thousands.
The thought made the anger bubble up inside her. These days that feeling, that fire, was her only constant companion. Without it, she wouldn’t know who she was. It was that feeling that propelled her forward, past the crap in her personal life, and helped her to focus on her prime objectives. Her life wasn’t hers to live. Her life belonged to the people of the world, people who deserved to be kept safe and out of the line of fire of the Martins.
Stuffing the phone back into her pocket, she made her way into the house.
She just needed to get her hands on as much information about the incident in Turkey as possible. There were reports of photos, pictures proving that the STEALTH team had been involved in the illegal gun trade, and during the event civilians had been shot and killed. If she could just prove it, or find evidence that the family was part of organized crime, not only would her past indiscretions at the agency be forgiven, but she might also find her way out of the remote offices and back to DC.
The house was silent as she weaved between the moving boxes. Trevor and Chad had been vague in their plans for the day, but she expected nothing less. No doubt, they were at the shanty taking care of their mess. She should have been out there with them, getting information about their possible involvement with the dead man and his family, but she hadn’t found a way to get herself invited along. And really, even if she caught Trevor red-handed with this murder, where would it get her?
He was good at keeping people in the dark, but his family wasn’t as good as they thought they were. She’d get what she needed. She always did.
Trevor’s bedroom door was closed, but his room seemed like as good a spot as any to start. She opened the door. The room had nothing but four boxes, a desk, and a mattress and box spring on the floor. At the head of the bed, there was a rolled-up mummy bag sitting on a large body pillow.
Apparently, even though he had nothing, he was a man who still liked to make his bed in the morning.
Grabbing a box, she set it on the bed and pulled off the tape. As it opened, the scent of sand and sweat rose up and met her—the smell