“The voice on the end of the phone was so freaky. It was like one of those creepy movies where they breathe heavy, and there was a couple of moments of silence, and then the voice said that I needed to stay away from the Porter Rockwell gold. And if I didn’t, the same thing would happen to me that had happened to Bill Harris.”
Anger shot through Nash. He got to his feet. “Are you serious?”
Even though he was an attorney, his brothers told him he was bullheaded and ready to fight at the drop of a hat if he felt like something was morally wrong. Porter always said he would make a good judge, because he wouldn’t have a hard time sending people to prison if he felt they deserved it.
Porter was right. Right now, Nash wanted to find this guy and unleash some vigilante justice. He wanted to beat the daylights out of whoever had said this to her. He thought of how Bill Harris had been killed execution style, a shotgun blast to the back of his head, and now they were threatening to do this to Sadie.
Sadie put her hand up and gave him a stern look. “Please, calm down. We don’t want everyone to hear.”
Nash sucked in a long breath. “You’re right.” His attorney self shifted back into place, and he sat back down. “Tell me more.”
She shook her head, and her eyes fluttered. He could tell she was pushing down emotion. Was she going to cry? More anger roiled up inside of him. He felt like someone had beaten up his sister, Cheyenne, or bullied one of his nieces or nephews.
Nash cracked his knuckles, preparing for a fight that wasn’t even present. “It’s okay,” he said calmly, not feeling calm at all.
She sucked in another long breath and then waved at her face. Tears came down. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know where this is coming from. I usually hold it together pretty well. I mean, I’ve had to my whole life, and I don’t know, I just … I just felt like I should come here. But I don’t like breaking down like this. I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked. “I think I just feel comfortable with you. I trust you, which is weird because I haven’t known you, not really.”
“Yes, you have.” All Nash could do was put his hand on top of hers. “It’s okay.” She continued to cry, and he scooted his chair closer and wrapped an arm around her. “It’s okay, Sadie. I’m glad you came.”
She sucked in a breath, and more tears came.
Nash leaned in and pulled her to his shoulder. It just felt right, like it was the only thing to do. He thought he was comforting her, but it seemed like pulling her in to let her cry actually made her cry harder.
“I’m sorry,” she kept saying. Her body shook with sobs. “I’ve been so alone in all of this, and I’m overwhelmed.”
Nash thought about everything he knew about her. The fact that she’d been raised in witness protection. What that did to a person. How her father had been killed the day after prom, and then she and her mother had to relocate to Salt Lake. This woman had spent a long time living in fear.
And then he thought about how she was being so stubborn about this gold. He snorted.
The sound seemed to shake her out of her mood. She pulled back. “What are you laughing about?” she asked quietly.
Nash couldn’t help but laugh again. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about you and how brave you are, and how even though we’re in this mess, you are refusing to back down. I mean, with everything you’ve gone through—and I don’t even know all of it—it would seem like you would want to back down, but you’re not.”
She sniffed and then nodded, wiping her face. “I thinkbecauseof everything I’ve been through, I can’t back down. I mean, I just have this gut feeling, Nash, that this all is somehow tied to my father.”
“Your father? Do you really think so?”
“I don’t know. I could be wrong, but what if I’m not? It has always felt suspicious to me that we were in witness protection and everything was going fine, and then it wasn’t. How can that be?”
Nash shrugged. “I don’t have answers for you.”
She shook her head. “I know. I don’t expect you to. I’m just talking. It honestly feels good to talk. I’ve been confused for a long time about this. My mother would never talk about it. It was like she worried there were cameras or microphones on the walls.”
“Maybe there were,” Nash suggested.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” She spent a moment in thought. “When I was researching the Porter Rockwell gold and then it was somehow tied to Cross Creek, I felt like maybe I was meant to discover this. Maybe this is what my father was looking into. Maybe this is what he was killed for. I don’t know.”
She rubbed her hand over her hair. “I don’t know why we were headed to Salt Lake. He could have gone a million ways, but he headed this way. Where were we running to? He wouldn’t answer the question. He just said I needed to wait. And I know he was trying to protect me, and I get that. But …” She paused and then stared at him with those beautiful green eyes. “Do you have someone you could ask about my witness protection? Do you have any contacts like that?”
Nash’s heart bottomed out, and he was grateful that she was asking, because he didn’t know how he was going to tell her that he’d already pulled everyone in.
He nodded and took her hand in his. “I do, and we’ll talk more about this.” His mind flitted to the fact that he had a meeting in less than twenty minutes with an important client. “I’m sorry, but I have a huge meeting, and I have to go.”
He walked around his desk and pulled a key from his drawer. “I’m going to give you my key to my place. I’m going to offer this—it might seem pushy, and you can decide—but I’d like you to come stay with me for right now. I have a three-bedroom home in the Avenues, so I have plenty of room. Go get the stuff you need, and then head to my place, and we’ll figure this out.” He hesitated. “Unless you think you need more protection. Then we should call the cops.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head firmly. “I can’t stay with you.”
“You came to me for a reason,” Nash said. “Let me help you.”
