Page 25 of You Betrayed Me (The Cahills 3)

Was it possible that James Cahill had staged his own injuries?

That seemed too far-fetched. Too dangerous. He studied the hearth again . . . Anyone who had slammed his head against those bricks had to have been suicidal.

Or desperate.

Closing his eyes, he reached into his pocket, felt the gloves, and conjured up the vision of a woman coming at James. She is angry, her features twisted in fury, her hands swinging, nails sharp enough to gouge deep ruts in his flesh.

Screaming, she attacks, pushing him and slicing his left cheek as she swipes at him. He steps backward to avoid the attack, stumbles, and hits his head on the hearth? Knocks himself out? Cracks his ribs in the fall?

Or had he been the aggressor?

He considered the scene from a different angle, even physically turning, though his eyes were still closed. Was that a dark figure lurking on the staircase? An accomplice waiting to attack? If so, in league with whom? James? Megan? Someone else?

Had there been another player here? A third party, either by design or, no—His brows knit together as he concentrated. That wasn’t quite right. Not exactly lurking in the shadows. But pulling the strings, taking advantage, and—

“Rivers?” Mendoza’s voice cut into his vision.

His eyes flew open.

Embarrassed, he glanced over his shoulder to find Mendoza standing at the foot of the stairs.

“You okay?” she asked, watching him closely.

He hadn’t even heard the door open, nor felt the rush of wintry wind racing through the entryway.

“Fine. Just wanted another look.”

“What were you doing?”

“Thinking.”

“Huh.” Disbelief. “You find anything?” She was eyeing him skeptically from beneath the hood of her jacket.

“Nah.” He gave a quick shake of his head. He was irritated that he’d been disturbed, but he hid it. “Let’s go.”

“Ohhh . . . kay,” she said as they walked outside to the porch. He pulled the door closed and heard the latch click into place.

In silence, they headed to the Cherokee.

She was already strapped in by the time he climbed inside. “What is it with you?” she asked, turning to face him. “It was like you were in some kind of trance or something.”

“I told you, I was thinking.” He started the engine and backed around the Silverado, giving the Jeep a little too much gas. “Just getting the feel of the place.”

“That was it?” she asked.

“That was it.”

“And what did you feel?”

He slid a glance her way and put the Jeep into DRIVE. “Nothing,” he replied, remembering Astrid’s laughter when he’d confided about his methodology to her. “Absolutely nothing.”

CHAPTER 7

James opened a bleary eye.

Night had fallen.

But he guessed only a few hours had passed, that he hadn’t lost another day. God, he hoped not. He remembered Nurse Rictor coming in to check on him again and adjust his IV, but he’d been half asleep when she’d stepped into his room, and whatever had been added to his bloodstream had knocked him out.

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