Page 161 of Her Reluctant Hero
He shook his head. “Cashier’s check from a bank in San Francisco.”
She met his gaze. Valentine was from San Francisco. “What’s the date?”
“Last month.”
“He didn’t cash it.” She scrambled for an excuse, a reason, anything to lessen the blow. “He may have changed his mind, may have tried to back out.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t give out the information. It doesn’t mean someone didn’t come after him to get the information. Someone may have killed him because of it.”
Mallory dropped her head to her knees. “Oh God.”
“Whoever it was could have killed the others because they saw, or they recognized him.” His voice tightened as he spoke about his brother.
“Oh God,” she said again, her voice choked.
But something occurred to him and he shoved himself to his feet. “Come on.” He held a hand to her.
She looked up, her face tear streaked. “What?”
“I want to look at those papers again.”
And there it was. He was right to suspect. The initials on the spreadsheet, next to the sum from three years ago, same bank. Not V.S. for Valentine Smoller, but V.E. for Valentine Enterprises, Smoller’s company.
“Smoller,” Adrian growled and turned to kick the fire out. “Get ready for bed, Mal. First thing tomorrow we’re risking the roads. We need another boat.” He waved the check. “And Smoller is going to pay for it.”
Mallory woke to the sound of tearing paper. She shifted to see Adrian sitting at the opening of the tent, going through books, ripping open the covers of the salvaged books and tossing them to the ground at his feet.
“Adrian?”
He looked at her, his eyes red from lack of sleep, his hands shaking from it. “I want more proof.”
“Adrian.” She crawled to the edge of the mattress to put her arms around him and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why would he do this to me, Mal? Not once, but twice? Didn’t he realize what he was doing? That he was sacrificing me?”
The strangled sound of his voice squeezed her heart. Was this how he’d suffered after Tunisia, and she’d walked away? What an idiot she’d been. How much extra pain she’d caused, being selfish. She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, determined to make it up to him, because damn, this was going to do a number on his ability to trust anyone. “I think he did realize. That’s why he didn’t cash the check.”
“Well, he was too late.” Adrian shifted away from her. “He already gave them the information that got him killed. I cried for the bastard, Mallory. He was my best friend. I cried for him, and he was stabbing me in the back.” He got to his feet and walked away.
He couldn’t stay out here any longer. Too dangerous, too isolated, too vulnerable. Adrian strode to the center of the camp, where Mallory was lacing her boots on the bench.
“We’re going to Belize City,” he told her. “Get everything you need to take with you.”
She scrambled to her feet and jammed her hands on her hips. “Are we coming back?”
He was. Right now he wanted her as far away from this place as he could get her. Whatever he needed to do to keep her safe. “I don’t know. We need to leave here in fifteen minutes.” The banks closed at three. He wanted to get this check there, buy himself a boat and come back to the site. Mallory wouldn’t understand that. She was better off in the States anyway.
Without him.
Pushing her away might be even harder than walking away had been because now he knew what he’d be missing.
“Are we going to the police?”
He opened his mouth to ask what good that would do. They’d already cleaned up the camp, so any clues that might have been around were destroyed. But he needed to reassure her, so he nodded.
She headed to the driver side within ten minutes, her duffel slung over her shoulder.
“I’ll drive.” He moved past her and grabbed the door handle.
