Risk It All. Anna Perrin
what her volatile sister seemed to need. As for what he needed or wanted, apart from Savannah, she had no clue.
Why had Trevor met with Sidorov? If it had been a business meeting, why had they met at the Russian’s home instead of at the bank? If it wasn’t a business meeting...she didn’t want to think about what it might have been. If she carried on with this call, she’d set in motion events over which she’d have no control, and those events would give rise to consequences she couldn’t foresee. What impact would that have on her sister? She needed to talk to Trevor and understand the situation fully before she decided whether or not to involve the police.
“Do you have an emergency?” the calm voice prompted again.
Hoping she wouldn’t regret her decision, she said, “Sorry, my mistake. There is no emergency.” Then she hit End and tossed her cell phone into the cup holder between the seats. When she glanced up, Trevor’s car door had closed, and the Lexus was pulling away from the curb. She watched the right signal light blink on and the vehicle execute the turn before she started her engine and followed.
Within the next few minutes, Trevor’s erratic driving confirmed his attention wasn’t on the road. He kept veering to the right, then swerving back to correct. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have suspected he was drunk. Other drivers in his vicinity must have reached the same conclusion because a few hit their horns in angry response to his edging into their lanes. Finally, he seemed to gather his wits and drive in a competent fashion. The traffic was light at this time of day, forcing her to keep a considerable distance between them or risk being spotted. She wasn’t ready to confront him yet. At this point, she preferred to stay back and keep tabs on where he was going.
It was quickly apparent his destination wasn’t the local police station. If he’d intended to go there to report the incident with Sidorov, he would have followed the sign posted at the main intersection downtown, instead of driving past it. What was his plan? Would he return to the bank this afternoon? Given what had happened to him, it was hard to imagine he could be productive workwise. But where else would he go? Lots of men under stress would head to a bar and drink to forget their worries. Trevor never drank to excess at social gatherings, but today he might feel he had reason to make an exception. Or maybe he wasn’t in the mood to drink in public. Maybe he’d stop in at a liquor store. His usual drink of choice was scotch, she remembered absently.
Up ahead, he blew through a stop sign, turned left without signaling and then ran a red light. Horns blared, and two cars swerved to avoid hitting him. It was impossible for her to follow; the risk of getting T-boned in the intersection was too high. Sitting at the red light, waiting for it to turn green, she was only moderately annoyed she’d lost him. Trevor wasn’t some stranger she was tailing who might disappear forever. She knew someone whose call he would always take, no matter how stressed or distracted he was.
Brooke pulled into a plaza, parked her SUV and opened the window of her vehicle to let in some fresh air. Then she pressed her sister’s number on her cell phone. When Savannah came on the line, Brooke got straight to the point. “Trevor isn’t having an affair.”
“Are you sure?”
She wanted to yell, Damn right, I’m sure, but she curbed the urge to vent her frustration and answered quietly. “Yes, Savannah.”
“Don’t use that patronizing tone with me. You can’t begin to understand how I feel. There’s no one special in your life. No one who could break your heart.”
Not anymore. Chad had dumped her a few weeks after she’d been shot. Brooke pushed away her own hurt to focus on her sister. “You’ll wreck your marriage if you keep being jealous. Trevor doesn’t deserve it.”
“Yeah, well, it’s hard for me not to worry. Women flirt with him all the time. It happened the other day in the grocery store. I came back from getting cereal, and some woman in a low-cut top and a skintight skirt is asking his opinion about melons.”
Her sister’s tendency to blow things out of proportion usually amused her, but not today. “I swear to you that his trip to Langeville today had nothing to do with a woman.”
Silence on the other end of the line. Then a long sigh. “Trevor and I used to be so happy,” Savannah said wistfully. “What’s happened to us?”
Brooke felt a rush of sympathy. Her sister might be melodramatic, but she was really hurting and needed some encouragement to get through this rough patch. “Maybe you and Trevor should spend some time together and figure out how to connect again.” Well, listen to her. Giving advice to the lovelorn when her only serious relationship had ended badly.
“I like that idea,” her sister said. “Maybe we could go away somewhere.”
Somewhere far away, Brooke thought suddenly. A place where they’d be safe from Sidorov, Latschenko and their guns. A plan began to form in her mind, and she spoke in the compelling voice she’d perfected during her stint as a police officer. “I need you to call your husband and tell him to meet you at—” she dipped her head to better see the red-and-white sign at the far end of the plaza “—Dean’s Diner. Immediately. It’s located in a plaza near Highland and Conestoga.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t discuss it over the phone, but it’s extremely important you get in touch with him and insist he do this.”
“He won’t answer his cell phone if he’s driving, and even if he does pick up, he’s not going to like being asked to come to some diner. He’ll want to know why.”
“Tell him it’s an emergency and if he truly loves you, he has to come without knowing the reason. As for you, leave your house right away. I’ll explain everything when I see you.”
“Jeez, Brooke. You’re starting to worry me, and that’s not like you. You’re the one always telling me to lighten up.”
“Not this time,” she said grimly and disconnected.
Satisfied she’d done all she could for the moment, Brooke gazed at the diner she’d decided on as their meeting place. She’d have preferred the comfort and privacy of her sister and Trevor’s home, but she couldn’t be sure it would be safe there. Who knew what Sidorov was capable of, especially after he discovered his security guard had been attacked?
She felt her eyelids droop and determinedly forced them back open. Her lack of sleep was making it hard to stay alert and focused. She needed a blast of cold water to her face and a jolt of caffeine to her brain, but the effort required to walk over to the diner seemed as monumental as running a marathon. A five-minute rest. That was all she needed. Then she’d push herself to keep going.
* * *
Jared approached Brooke’s SUV from an angle with as much stealth as possible, considering he was still wearing work boots. The last thing he wanted was for her to notice him and take off out of the plaza parking lot. He’d already returned the Green Thumb truck, given its owner two hundred bucks and an apology for the complaint about him that would surely be forthcoming and picked up his own car, a blue Mustang.
When he drew level with the open driver window, he glimpsed Brooke slumped against the car door. His heart rate kicked up a notch, and his training took over; he reached inside the SUV and laid his fingers across the base of her throat to check for a pulse. Her skin was soft and warm from the sun, her heartbeat a steady rhythm.
She jolted upright and shoved his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” The alarm in her voice turned to confusion as recognition dawned in her eyes. “You! What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
He opened his mouth to answer her, but she didn’t give him a chance. “You couldn’t have followed me. I’d have noticed a Green Thumb truck on the road anywhere behind me.”
“I took the truck back to the lawn company and picked up my own car.” He pointed to his vehicle parked several spaces away.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How have you turned up here? That can’t