Golden Threads by Kay Hooper Page B

just—" She swallowed, unable to complete the chilling thought.
    She didn't have to. Devon reached for her hand and held it gently. He didn't complete her question, but he did answer it in a quiet voice.
    "They could have had you kidnapped, but that kind of action always leaves a trail, especially when the victim is in the witness protection program and under at least periodic observation. And they couldn't count on making you talk, no matter what methods they used; there's no such thing as a foolproof way to get information. It's been months, and they know you haven't talked to us or we would have moved against them. They must figure that either you have a very good reason for keeping quiet—and they may be afraid of blackmail—or you quite honestly don't know that you know something."
    "Then why try to make me panic?"
    "Self-preservation," Devon answered promptly. "On your part, I mean, as well as theirs. They're using a method least risky to them in the event that you know nothing, and a method that could very well work. Lara, the human mind is an amazing thing. Mental blocks exist because of pain or shock or an unwillingness to face something, but let the mind realize that a block is endangering you, and the chances are good that the walls will come down in a hurry."
    She stared at him. "It hasn't worked."
    "That's why I don't think it's a block."
    "You believe it's something I didn't notice at the time."
    "Right. If you'd either deliberately or unconsciously blocked something out, I think you would have known it by now."
    "Do you think they realize that?"
    "Whether or not they do, I believe they're too uneasy about your father's evidence to take the chance of removing you without making certain. Think about it, Lara. Suppose the cartel believes you're staying quiet for your own safety. If you did indeed have that evidence, it'd be a damned good insurance policy."
    "You mean, I'd think they wouldn't bother me so long as I had something to hold over them? Something to bargain with?"
    "Exactly."
    Lara was silent for a moment, allowing that idea to reach a logical conclusion. "Then we have to use that."
    Devon knew what she meant, she could see it in his eyes, but he asked anyway. "Use it how?"
    It was her love and understanding of Devon rather than thoughts of herself that made Lara consider her next words carefully before speaking. She knew, without a single doubt, that despite his training and responsibilities, Devon wouldn't hesitate to whisk her away the instant he believed she was in real danger. She also knew that this situation was tearing at him, that the conflict between man and agent was as strong as ever and as unresolved.
    The agent was working on an assignment and had the duty as well as the desire to gather evidence against a very dangerous group of criminals; the man was involved with a woman who was, in all innocence, a linchpin in that situation and terribly vulnerable because of it.
    Devon knew there had to be an ending to the deadlock between the bureau, the cartel, and her, and yet the only means of breaking that deadlock endangered her. Whether he loved her or not, the bond between them was very real, and he was hurting because the agent had been taught to use every tool available—and the man couldn't use her.
    He hadn't wanted to use her as bait even in the beginning, when she was a stranger to him, and he was determined not to now. He very obviously intended to help her to "relive" the night her father had died, primarily in order to avoid using her as bait. The problem was that Lara was convinced she knew nothing that would help him.
    And where did that leave them? If Devon was forced to make the decision to use her as a lure to get evidence against the cartel, it could destroy him. She felt that with a certainty that wouldn't be denied. Yet, if he decided against using her, and chose to get her safely away into another life, that also could destroy him. Because Devon knew all about the pain of