An Eye For Illusion: A Private Investigator Romantic Suspense: (Dunn Security Group Book 2)

Chapter 23

As soon as I turn right onto the main road, the white pickup truck’s headlights come on and make their way onto the road behind me. Whoever it is won’t give up so easily, it seems. I’m in a different vehicle now, so I don’t know how they’d know it’s me.

“Do you know who’s following us?” I ask Donovan, my voice far more aggressive than I intended.

Donovan leans forward in his seat, pinning me with his eyes. “You think I’m the one having us followed? How the fuck should I know?”

My heart rate picks up. While I would never outright accuse him, I also wouldn’t put it past him to do something like this to make me understand how serious this shit is. He keeps telling me I don’t understand. It stands to reason he might try to teach me a lesson for going with Frankie alone when I hot-wired that car.

I scrub my free hand over my face while glancing in the rearview mirror to watch the truck. “Sorry. I just don’t know why someone would be following us or who it could be.” I struggle to make sense of my own thoughts. I don’t want Donovan to think I don’t trust him because I do.

Donovan is still leaned forward, a look of absolute disbelief on his face. “Are you fucking with me right now? You don’t know who or why someone would be following us?” His voice grows louder, dramaticized sarcasm dripping from each word.

I don’t get to answer before he starts again. “We’re getting deeper into a crime ring by the day. You scaled a fence and hot-wired a fucking car for someone you’d only met once. You’re lucky you aren’t fucking dead already. Then you agreed to find a car, but not just any car. A very specific fucking car—for the leader of the aforementioned crime ring. And you agreed to do it in an insane time constraint. So, do tell me again why you can’t figure out who or why someone would be following us.”

He sits back in his seat but only for a second before turning my way again. “In case that didn’t clear up your confusion—who we’re being followed by is someone connected to Vinny and why we’re being followed is so they can be sure we’re the assholes we told them we are.”

He sits back again, resting his elbow on the door handle as he stares at the pickup truck’s headlights in the side mirror.

I give him a minute to be sure he’s done. “Look, I know I fucked up. I can’t change that, but I’m trying to get this case closed so we’re out of it. I have to find out the role Moore plays in all this so I can give the information to Jade and likely the police. Once the case is closed, we’re out.”

He blows out a frustrated breath. “Had you listened to me in the beginning, that might have been true. You were supposed to talk a big game like you knew some shit and tail Vinny’s guys along with Moore until you got enough on him. Then you were supposed to disappear as quickly as you showed up. Buuut you didn’t, and instead, you started taking jobs for Vinny. So, now we’re forced to get enough to take them all down. Well, that or plan to relocate when you’re done with the case. In other words, you’ve fucked yourself and likely me, too.”

His tone is eerily even, but I don’t make the mistake of doubting how much he believes every word he said.

I don’t respond because what the fuck do I say to that? I fucked up so royally that now I may have to leave town. Hell no. Nobody is running me out of my own town. If taking down the entire crime ring is the new mission, then that’s what we’ll do.

“If you get me killed, I’m haunting your ass.” He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, but I can see his smirk in the reflection of the window. He’s pissed, but he covers it with jokes.

“Deal.”

The truck stays behind us with every turn. The driver has made little effort to hang back for the last several miles. The bolder the driver becomes, the more anxious I get. Whoever this is, they’re planning to have an interaction with one or both of us.

And he’s going to get just that. I’m getting this car and delivering it to Vinny myself.

As I make the last turn, I see the car Vinny wanted sitting on a trailer in the parking lot ahead. No other cars are around. Only a single flickering light barely illuminates the small area. I glance in the rearview mirror to watch the white pickup predictably make the turn behind me. As soon as I steer into the parking lot, the truck cuts around me, speeding towards the trailered car.

“Here we fucking go,” Donovan mutters.

He shifts in his seat before I hear the familiar racking of a gun slide.

My gun is on my side, but I double check to be sure.

The white pickup has parked along the far side of the trailer. In a bold move of my own, I swing the truck wide and then back up to the tongue of the trailer. Whoever that is isn’t leaving with this car.

Donovan peers out the window, his gun in his right hand. The truck door swings open, and a man steps out. “It’s Carlo, and he’s not alone.” Something in his voice changes with the last part of his statement.

Carlo crosses his arms and holds his chin high as he waits for us to get out of the truck. Ignoring the urge to pull my gun, I get out first and make my way to the back of the truck to hook up the trailer. Carlo makes a move to come towards me.

Donovan swings his door open and gets out. “Whoa, Carlo, what’s the deal man?” His voice is calm, but his eyes dart between Carlo and the passenger in Carlo’s truck.

“I’m taking this car to Vinny,” he says firmly. He shifts his jacket back, showing us his gun.

Donovan must have holstered his before he stepped out on the truck. He pats his hip holster in response to let Carlo know he isn’t the only one who came prepared.

“Vinny gave this job to me, Carlo. I’m taking the car to him.” I continue to hook up the trailer to the truck. Donovan has my back, so I’m not worried. I connect the trailer lights and rise to my full height, staring Carlo straight in the eyes.

“I know you aren’t who you say you are,” Carlo says.

My heart rate picks up a little, but I don’t let it show. “Oh yeah, who am I? And who are you? Carlo Fucking Knowitall?” I won’t allow this guy to intimidate me.

Carlo’s face turns red with anger, and he pulls his gun from his side. On instinct, I step behind the bed of the truck and get down to protect myself, but Donovan doesn’t do the same. Watching under the truck, I see his feet moving towards Carlo. I scramble back to a standing position and rush around the truck, determined to protect Donovan.

Carlo aims his gun at Donovan, and everything seems to happen both quickly and also in slow motion. Keeping low, I approach from the side with rapid, quiet steps. Once I’m within a safe distance to pull his attention to me but not allow him enough time to train the gun on me, I charge him. Our bodies go airborne momentarily before slamming onto the pavement.

A gunshot rings out as we hit the ground, and I hear a woman’s screams over the ringing in my ears. Realization sets in that she’s not just screaming. She’s screaming, “Donovan!”

When I take in the fact the body below me isn’t fighting back, I risk pulling away enough to see Carlo is knocked out, a little blood running down onto the concrete. He must have hit his head on impact, and I count my blessings.

I force myself back to my feet and turn to look at my colleague. Donovan’s eyes are locked on the woman in the truck. Now that his attention is on her, and she’s realized he is unharmed, her screams have stopped. I glance between them a time or two before getting my bearings and turn my attention back to the task at hand.

I quickly grab Carlo’s gun before ejecting the mag and clearing the chamber. I remove the slide, wipe my prints off on my shirt and toss it on his chest.

Petty as it is, I want him to know he’s a bitch, and we took him down. Leaving him the most useless part of his own gun is the best way to do that without leaving him a hilariously well-written note and pinning it to his shirt.

Once I’m done there, I put the main piece in my jacket and pocket the magazine and bullet. The whole process takes less than a minute, which is great because unconscious people don’t usually stay unconscious for long.

“D, we have to go. If anyone heard that shot, the cops will be on the way.” He doesn’t respond, his eyes still fixed on the woman in the truck. I step toward him. “D! We have to go. Now.”

He walks over to Carlo’s unconscious body and punches him right in the face. Without another look at the mystery woman, he walks back to the truck, climbs inside, and slams the door.

I hurry back to the driver’s side of the truck, swing the door open, and climb inside. My door barely latches before I start the truck and slam it into drive.

Donovan is deathly silent. His body is completely still as he stares out the windshield.

We only make it about a few miles down the road before I hear several police sirens. I quickly turn down a side road, headed in the opposite direction. We left Carlo lying on the ground, and the mystery woman inside the truck watched as we left the parking lot as quickly as we could.

What the fuck was that about? And who the fuck is that woman?