Page 16 of Fatal Mistake
She was trying to look tough, but he saw her as a cute, irresistible woman who was willing to take on her own personal Goliath to survive, and dang if the uneasiness that had been plaguing him for months didn’t nearly melt on the spot to be replaced with his interest for her as a woman.
She caught his gaze—his intent—and frowned as she spun away.
Good. She didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Her attitude stung, but it would help keep him on track when he had no business thinking about her as a woman. She was a witness and a vital part of this investigation, for goodness’ sake, and he needed to keep things professional so he didn’t get distracted and miss an important lead or put her in danger.
He took a quick look at the single room measuring a couple hundred square feet. White cabinets with aged Formica tops ringed the lower portion of the walls. The upper walls were made of solid glass. Not a good place to defend against an attack.
She went straight to the corner, stowed her bag in a cabinet, then hopped up on top. Leaning back, she rested her feet on the rung of a wooden folding chair with a canvas sling that he suspected had occupied the tower since the fifties. She rested the rifle on her knees as if she thought she needed protection against him.
“There’s no point in pleading your case,” she said. “Since I don’t know anything that can help you, I won’t put myself in a position to allow Oren to get to me. That means I won’t be going back to D.C. with you. I’m good on my own.”
Cal crossed the space and leaned against the ledge of a wide viewing window, trying to act causal and ignore his mounting frustration. “Okay, let’s say for a minute that’s true—and I’m not in any way saying it is—can you honestly turn your back on women whose lives could depend on your help in stopping Keeler?”
Her gaze wavered, and she nibbled on her full lower lip, telling him more about her character than anything had so far. She wanted to help, but fear had gotten the best of her, overpowering her desire to do the right thing.
Once upon a time, he might have promised more than seeing to her safety and gone on to assure her that he could keep her alive. All in the name of gaining her assistance, but now he was wiser. Far wiser, and he recognized that no one could make such a promise, especially not him. He had no control over life-or-death matters. Only God had the power to save lives. When it came to Cal, the big guy had been silent far too long, and Cal had no faith that God would break His silence now.
Still, Cal’s job required him to persuade Tara to accompany him to Washington. He’d do that job to give her the best chance at surviving and to put another bad guy behind bars. “I remain convinced that you saw something that can lead us to Keeler.”
She held up her hand. “I wasn’t lying at the hospital when I told you the details of my time in the pump house are fuzzy. And nothing has changed.”
He peered into eyes clear from guile and deceit. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, but if you’ll come back to D.C., our team will help draw out those memories. We can play the audio of your call from the pump house, and even though the building was destroyed, a visit to the ruins could help stir your memories.”
He pushed off the ledge and stepped closer.
She shot a panicked look around the space as if she wanted to flee.
He came to a stop to keep from threatening her more. “You’re reluctant to do this. I get it, and I wouldn’t put you through it if there was any other way to stop Keeler.”
“Do you get it?” She jumped to her feet and crossed her arms over the rifle. “Oren killed a woman I cared about in Atlanta. I have to stay away from people—all people—if I don’t want him to kill more of my friends. I couldn’t live with myself if another person died because of me.”
Surprised by her response, Cal was at a loss for words. He was wrong. Fear for her own safety wasn’t holding her back; it was fear for others and guilt. Emotions he was on a first-name basis with. He deserved his guilt. She didn’t.
He gentled his voice. “You didn’t set those bombs, Tara. Keeler did. This is all on him, not you. You can’t live your life thinking your actions cause him to kill. I won’t have you feeling guilty.”
Her chin lifted higher. “I’m not sure you can stop it.”
“Guilt will cloud many things in your life if you let it,” he said, knowing full well the repercussions in his own life. “Your judgment will be compromised. That could interfere in finding Keeler.”
She recoiled but quickly hid her response, and he had no idea what had caused such a visceral reaction from her.
“What is it?” he asked.
She took a breath and blew it out, as if clearing the discussion from her brain. Or maybe clearing him from her brain. “How did you find me?”
She’d changed the subject. Avoidance, pure and simple. If she was to be effective in helping them, he would need to keep an eye out for any impact her guilt had on their hunt for Keeler. For now, he’d let it go and answer her question. “Your aunt.”
“Not possible. I purposely didn’t contact June so she couldn’t be put on the spot by you or Oren. I love her far too much to put her in harm’s way.”
“She didn’t give us your location,” he said. “But she did give us access to your things and shared your vacation pictures. I work with an extraordinary team, and it only takes a scrap of information for us to succeed.”
“Okay, so you got my pictures and figured out that I was moving to cities where I’d vacationed. Doesn’t explain how you came to Oregon. I’ve never been here before.”
“True, but our computer expert discovered you’d previously sold photos on Etsy.” He explained the search process as Kaci had explained it to him and hoped he’d gotten it right.
Tara’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”
He nodded. “Once she found your online storefront at Etsy, it was easy to locate the rest of your information.” He met her gaze head-on and dreaded telling her the next bit, but if it got her to come back to D.C. and remain under his watchful protection, it was worth scaring her. “You know Keeler has strong tech skills. He can find you, too.”
