Better Off Dead. Meryl Sawyer

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СКАЧАТЬ Build another life. You need to get out there. Date. Make a circle of friends the way you did in Houston so you’re not emotionally relying on one friend. That’ll help you become normal again.”

      “Normal? After the trial, my life can return to normal.”

      Derek swiped at his lips with the napkin. “Don’t count on being able to go home. We’re convinced the PowerTec jerks will arrange to kill you even if both of them are in jail.”

      How could she go on like this? Always watching her back? Listening to strange sounds in the night and wondering if they’d found her. Never seeing her sister. Her niece. The man she loved?

      What choice did she have?

      This was her life—part two—the sad and lonely part.

      Whoever said the truth will set you free—obviously hadn’t tried it. The truth had wiped out a promising career, a wonderful life.

      And the truth might be the death of her.

      Derek continued, “We just can’t trust Rutherford or Ames not to hire someone to kill you from their prison cells.”

      She didn’t doubt it. From what she’d been able to tell, they had a fortune socked away in offshore and Swiss accounts. Carrion eaters of the corporate world, Rutherford and Ames had taken voodoo accounting to a new level. They each had a ruthless, vengeful streak.

      “Don’t forget all I’ve taught you. Keep your eye on people around you, even those at a distance.”

      “Believe me, I’m getting good at it.”

      “You’ve got two cell phones, batteries charged?”

      “Of course. They’re in my purse. Same with the gun.”

      “About the gun.” There was a tick of something that bordered on worry in his voice. “Witnesses aren’t supposed to have guns.”

      “But if someone is after them—”

      “Too many are former criminals. Giving them a gun is against the rules.”

      The light dawned. He’d broken a rule for her, and he didn’t want anyone to know. This was the real reason he’d come to see her. Derek had expected to be with her through the trial. He never thought he would have to hand her over to someone who might jeopardize his career by revealing what he’d done.

      “I won’t say a word to the new guy.”

      Obviously relieved, he grinned. “Might be a woman.”

      They ate in silence for a few minutes, before she asked, “Why did you give me a gun?”

      “Right from the first, you were different. All I’d dealt with were LCN lowlifes or drug pushers. You were a class act. Intelligent. Quick to learn.” He put down his fork, his dark eyes troubled. “But I worried about you. I didn’t—still don’t—think you know what you’re up against. I wanted to give you as much protection as I possibly could.”

      Lindsey was touched. Derek had been professional the entire time. She’d never suspected he’d cared one whit about her. Not only had he cared, but he’d jeopardized his career to help her.

      “I’m good at self-defense. I go to the firing range once a week.” She leaned over and patted his hand. “You’ve done the best you could. The rest is up to me. Enjoy your promotion.”

      She was unable to conceal the note of appreciation that had crept into her voice. Once men had fallen all over themselves to help her. Then came the murder. Suddenly the men in her life gave her orders, not caring in the least what she thought or wanted.

      “Start dating. You’re too pretty, too intelligent to become a hermit.”

      “I’m not all that interested in—”

      “Even if you did return to Houston…” He let the words drift away.

      She remembered her final day there, a sunny Saturday in April. The last time she’d been with Tyler. The weather had been nice enough to have the top down on his Porsche. They’d laughed and talked as they slogged through traffic to have lunch on the patio at Zov’s Bistro.

      Even though the FBI investigation loomed over her, something she couldn’t discuss with Tyler, she’d been happy. He knew there were problems at PowerTec and that some sort of investigation was underway. She’d naively assumed the FBI would fix the trouble. This problem was nothing more than a blip on the radar screen of life.

      “Why does it take a million sperm to fertilize one egg?” she’d asked Tyler.

      Accustomed to her jokes, he’d shaken his head. “I give. Why?”

      “They refuse to stop and ask for directions.”

      His rich, husky laugh still echoed in her ears. He always laughed no matter how lame her joke. Just thinking about him made her long to go back in time. To go home.

      Home. Unless you can never return home again, never see your family again, you’ll never really appreciate what the word means. You have to lose everything to comprehend its significance.

      “Lindsey, I gotta tell you,” Derek said, intruding on her thoughts. “I don’t know how to say this…”

      “Tell me what?” Something in his tone warned that he’d saved the worst for last. “Just say it.”

      He hesitated, fiddling with the grilled zucchini he hadn’t touch. “Tyler Prescott is getting married on Saturday.”

      The words went through her like a serrated blade. Tyler getting married? How could that be?

      Of course, Tyler had gone on with his life. She’d vanished with hardly a word. She’d left a message for him at the office—in the middle of the night when he wouldn’t be there—to tell him that she was being sent on an emergency overseas assignment and would contact him later.

      It was a lame story, but the FBI had insisted she tell him this. She’d hoped Tyler would see through the lie. He knew a little about PowerTec’s problems, but not about the FBI’s involvement. She hadn’t had the opportunity to discuss the murder with him, but she thought he would put two and two together. Obviously he hadn’t.

      What did she expect him to do? Wait forever?

      He’d fallen in love with someone else. How could that happen in just a year? They’d been together almost three years. They’d spoken of marriage, but he hadn’t actually proposed.

      “Is he marrying anyone I know?”

      Again Derek hesitated. “Skyler Holmes.”

      Her stomach rose, then plummeted in a sickening lurch. He’d always called Skyler the blond bimbo. It was true. Her bra size was bigger than her IQ.

      Holding back tears, she quelled her emotions. Nothing was ever gained by crying, her father used to say. She deliberately directed her thoughts to the months ahead. Like a mirage, her future shimmered in the distance. Out of focus—out of reach.

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