Do You Trust Me? by Desconhecido(a)

you want to go in right now.” His hands on her shoulders were gentle
but firm.
    Her heart flipped and
not from his touch. The look in his eyes telegraphed bad news. “Why? What’s
wrong?”
    McCall and Gage
looked at each other, then McCall took her arm.
    “Damn it,” she
snapped. “This is my house. Get out of my way.” She pulled away from him,
dodged around both men, and raced into the house through the utility room and
into the foyer.
    The first thing she
noticed was the little table she kept there lying on its side and the vase it
held shattered to pieces on the floor. McCall and Gage were right behind her,
McCall’s hands on her shoulders, steadying her.
    Rina shrugged out
from under his grasp, her heart tripping erratically as she walked into the
living room. She did a slow turn, taking in every bit of the destruction, and
swallowed a scream as she looked at McCall. “Oh, my God.”
    “It was this way when
we got here,” Gage explained. “How long were you two gone?”
    McCall glanced at his
watch. “Not much more than an hour.”
    “Well, they’re damn
slick then, because they didn’t have all that much time.”
    “They must not have
been able to get here before we arrived this morning,” McCall told him.
    “They were obviously
watching for this place to be empty.” He nodded toward Rina. “You’d better take
care of her. She looks like she’s about to keel over.”
    Rina stood rooted to
the living room carpet, stunned at the condition of the room. Furniture had
been overturned, cushions dumped on the floor and slit open, small items like
the vase in the hallway smashed beyond repair. Pictures had been yanked off the
walls and their backing sliced away.
    “Rina, go into the
kitchen and sit down,” McCall ordered. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
    “Look what they’ve
done.” She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking worse than they
already were. “Oh, God. McCall, look at this.”
    “Come on.” He was
right beside her. “You need to sit down.”
    She didn’t think she
could make her feet move, but McCall took her arm and propelled her along. In
the kitchen, the only room not trashed, he sat her in a chair, ran a glass of
water for her and made her drink it.
    “Just swallow,” he
told her. “Take deep breaths. And stay right here.”
    He moved to the
doorway where he and Gage spoke in low tones. Then he pulled out his cell phone
and speed-dialed a number, turning away from Rina as the call connected.
    “Me,” he said. “We
have a situation. Did Gage call you? Uh huh. Yeah, just fifteen minutes ago.”
He described the scene, including the rundown Gage had given him of the other
rooms. “They’re looking for something. I also think they wanted to send her a
message.”
    “Things are ramping
up,” Sully told him. “These people are vicious and will stop at nothing to find
what they’re looking for. Maybe this will frighten Rina enough to open up to
us.”
    McCall grunted. “Don’t
count on it. Do I want to give her any information yet? Something that might
goose this along?”
    There was a momentary
pause. “No,” Sully said at last. “We’ll hold off as long as we can. It’s
chancy, but if she really doesn’t know anything, I don’t want to tell her.”
    “Fine. Your call. But
I need to get her out of here. I’m taking her to a motel while we get this
place cleaned up.”
    “I’ll be in touch.
And McCall?”
    “Yeah?”
    “I know this sounds
harsh, but if you can use this episode to advantage, do it.”
    McCall snapped the
phone shut. He was angry and frustrated. John Devargas had been a good friend
on a dangerous assignment, and he was days past his last check-in. Now this. He
had a very bad feeling about everything.
    John was the one who’d
first sniffed out the plot against President Nicholas Brandon and the possible
reason behind it. They were treading on thin ice by not involving the Secret
Service, and the involvement of