Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Keira
I walked down the hallway with Natasha just ahead of me. A thick rug muffled our footsteps, swallowing every sound in the oversized corridor.
Ugh, I’d been suffocating in that room listening to Phelan speak. Thank goodness I was out of there.
I was far more curious about his assistant.
“So, do you like working for Mr. Phelan?” I asked Natasha, keeping my tone conversational.
“It’s an excellent position.” She walked with brisk, efficient footsteps, zero inflection in her voice.
“Are you from Hart County?” I tried again.
No answer.
I walked a little faster to pull up beside her. “Are you a fan of The Real Man Formula? I’m curious about your perspective. Since you’re a woman and all.”
“I’m focused on the logistics of Mr. Phelan’s business. He has other people who consult with him on content.”
Okay, then. She wasn’t going to give me any dirt on her employer. Not that I’d really expected it.
There had to be something else I could learn about Phelan in this house. The place was gigantic.
A branch appeared in the hallway to our left, and I started to follow it, curious about what lay down that direction. I thought I heard voices, low and muffled, but couldn’t make out any words.
Natasha’s hand landed on my shoulder. “Not that way,” she said sharply.
Oh, sure. That wasn’t suspicious at all.
She steered me onward. A few seconds later, we stopped at a door halfway down the main corridor. “Here’s the restroom. Go ahead.”
I tried to look embarrassed. Not that hard, actually.
I had enough practice with discomfort in awkward situations.
“Actually, do you have any tampons? I think my period just started.” I paused, then couldn’t help adding, “If Mr. Phelan even allows things like feminine products in his Real Man mansion.”
I smiled sweetly.
She looked unamused, but dipped her chin with a nod. “I have some in my purse, but it’s in my office.”
“Great.” I pointed a thumb at the bathroom door. “I’ll get started. Might take me a while. You know how it is.” My face scrunched up.
She gave me a pinched look, but turned on her heels and strode back the way we’d come, her footsteps quick and purposeful.
Well. That hadn’t been so hard.
I went into the bathroom and closed the door, just in case she was going to look back and check. Then I stood perfectly still and listened.
After about ten seconds, long enough for her to turn the corner, I opened the door and peeked out again. No sign of her.
I hurried down the hall, this time taking the turn that Natasha had pulled me away from. I wanted to know what else Mr. Phelan was up to here, because it didn’t seem like we were going to get anything useful out of him through polite conversation.
It had been almost impossible to sit there and not start ranting about the obnoxious things the man was saying. It’s a risky job. A lot for a young woman like you to handle.
Trust me, buddy, I was a lot to handle too. Just try me.
My mom had been scared to death when I became a cop.
But not because she doubted me. She’d always supported me.
Mom had stayed home when I was growing up, and she was the heart and soul of our family.
For years, she’d struggled to have another child, which was why Stephie was so much younger than me.
Then Dad had passed away, and it was just the three of us.
Mom went back to work while always teaching us we could do anything we set our minds to. We could have any life we wanted.
Mom rarely raised her voice, and she probably couldn’t bench press a bag of groceries. Much less a heavy bar at the gym. But I was sure my mom had more strength of character than a fool like Donny Phelan could ever comprehend.
Whatever. Dean could stay there and play nice with the man and hope to pick up a few measly crumbs of information.
Meanwhile, I was going to look around and actually try to find something we could use. And if Dean didn’t like that? Well, he just had to deal with it.
One domineering woman here, folks, present and accounted for.
I passed an open doorway and saw a person moving cardboard boxes around. The guy glanced up, but I kept moving, not giving him time to ask questions.
It had been a few minutes now, and Natasha would be heading back any moment.
I picked up my pace, hoping to find something, anything, before my window of time closed.
Maybe the men in the demonic masks had worked for Phelan. Maybe they were here right now. That thought sent a shudder of fear through me. But I kept going.
Then I heard voices again, like I’d noticed earlier when I was with Natasha. My footsteps slowed as I neared the next doorway. The door was partly open, and I could see a man sitting in a chair inside, his large hand resting on a table. He wasn’t looking my way.
“Ryan is pissed that the shipment’s delayed,” the man said.
The guy had a sharp nose and a heavy, muscular build. I’d never seen him before.
“Yeah, but what else is new,” someone replied from deeper in the room. “Not like it’s our fault. He’s the one who—”
“Keep your mouth shut,” snapped the man I could see. “It’s our job to make sure things get back on track. No excuses.”
I noticed the large ring he was wearing as he tapped his thick fingers against the desktop. Like a class ring, with a large, flat blue stone in the middle. Something about it nagged at me.
I’d seen a ring like that before somewhere.
Taking my phone out, I carefully took a few pictures, zooming in on the guy’s hand and the distinctive ring.
“What are you doing over here?”
I jumped and spun around. Natasha was standing right behind me.
I quickly turned off my phone screen and stuck it in my pocket. “Sorry. I finished up in the bathroom. Didn’t actually need a tampon. False alarm. I was heading back to that sitting room we were in, and I guess I got lost.”
Natasha didn’t look like she believed me for a second.
Then there were heavy steps behind me, and the man wearing the ring was suddenly there, scowling at me. “What the hell is this?”
“She’s no one,” Natasha said quickly. “We were just heading back to Mr. Phelan.” She hustled me as quickly as possible down the hall.
When I looked over my shoulder, the sharp-nosed guy was staring at me.
“I don’t know what you think you’re up to,” Natasha murmured quietly, her voice tight with warning, “but you need to stop. Mind your own business.”
Yeah, people kept telling me that. I wasn’t very good at it.
“Does that man work for Mr. Phelan? What kind of shipment was he talking about?”
Natasha stopped. But her expression wasn’t blank anymore.
The woman looked frightened.
“Mr. Phelan will be wanting to get back to work,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think it’s about time that you leave.”
As we neared the sitting room where we’d been talking before, Dean was already waiting outside in the hallway. There was no sign of Donny Phelan anywhere.
Dean’s face was flushed. “We’re finished,” he said evenly, his jaw set. “Let’s go.”
“But—”
“No arguments, Keira.”
Natasha didn’t say another word, just walked us to the front door and closed it firmly behind us as we left.
When we were sitting in Dean’s old truck, I turned my glare on him. “I didn’t get to say my piece to Phelan. I was going to tell him exactly what I thought about him.”
Dean started up the engine. “I already did it for you. Trust me, he got the message.”
“What does that mean?”
“Means he knows what will happen if he doesn’t leave you alone.”
“What? What did you do?”
“I failed to remain calm.”
My jaw dropped.
Then I started to giggle.
“You think that’s funny?” Dean asked.
“Maybe I’m delirious.” Which only made me laugh more. So much that my chest and shoulder ached, but that still didn’t stop me. I was just relieved.
And more than a little pleased that Phelan had experienced some payback after all.
“What exactly did you do to him?” I asked.
“Nothing that would leave much of a mark. I’m sure it hurt like hell, but I think we reached an understanding.
He nearly peed his pants.” Dean was smiling, glancing over at me as he drove us down the long driveway away from the house.
“What were you doing when you claimed to be going to the bathroom?”
“Me?” I asked innocently. “I just needed to tinkle. And check my mascara in the mirror.”
He side-eyed me.
“Okay, I was doing some recon. Since it didn’t seem like we were getting anything useful out of Phelan.”
“You could’ve gotten hurt, Keira.”
“But I didn’t. And I learned something.” I told him about the brief conversation I’d overheard. “The guy mentioned someone named Ryan. Like this Ryan is in charge. Maybe the late shipment is just supplements or coaching workbooks, but I don’t think so. There’s something weird going on there.”
Dean tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Could be. Did they see you? These men you heard talking?”
“Well, yes. But I noticed an odd ring one guy was wearing. I took a picture of it. I’m sure I’ve seen something like it before.” I held up my phone, showing him the picture on my screen. Dean glanced quickly at it.
“You’ve seen it before? Where?”
“That’s what I’m trying to remember. It was recent.” The memory itched at the back of my mind, so close I could almost grasp it. “It could’ve been—”
As I was thinking, my eyes wandered over to the right-side mirror on Dean’s truck.
Huh. Another vehicle was on the highway a good distance behind us. It hadn’t been there before, but now it seemed to be keeping our exact speed.
It was black and boxy. Like the SUVs that had been parked outside Phelan’s home.
“Dean. I could be wrong, but we might have a tail.”
He cursed, checking the rearview. “Maybe they’re just making sure we leave the area.” With his eyes on the rearview mirror, Dean accelerated. The SUV matched our speed.
Then started to gain on us.
“Shit. It’s possible we pissed them off more than we realized. I’ll get rid of them. Hold on. This might get bumpy.”
“Okay.” I did my best to brace myself as we raced out of the valley, and the road started to curve.
The SUV kept gaining on us, closing the distance with alarming speed.
Just a few minutes ago, poking that hornet’s nest had seemed like a good idea.
The highway climbed, the road narrowing as it wound through towering pines. Around the next curve, a cliffside appeared to the right of the guardrails, and the ground below dropped away into a ravine that seemed to go down forever.
“They’re getting closer,” I said, gripping the door handle.
Dean’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I see them.”
The dark SUV surged, its engine roaring. It pulled up alongside us, and that’s when I saw him.
The driver was wearing a demonic mask.
“Dean,” I breathed, my voice tight with fear. “That’s him. That’s one of them.”
“Hold on.”
The SUV swerved toward us, trying to force us off the road and over the guardrails. Dean’s truck tires screamed as we skidded closer to the edge of the ravine. Gravel sprayed out from under our wheels.
“Too close,” I gasped.
Dean yanked us back onto the pavement just as the SUV came at us again. This time Dean was ready. He accelerated hard, pulling ahead just enough to avoid the impact.
The road curved sharply to the left, hugging the mountainside. Dean took it fast, the truck leaning as we careened around the bend. The SUV followed, staying right on our tail.
“There’s a straightaway coming up,” Dean said, his eyes scanning the road ahead. “When we hit it, I’m going to brake hard. Be ready.”
The curve opened up into a straight stretch of highway, bordered on both sides by thick forest. Dean floored it, and for a moment we pulled ahead. The engine whined in protest, but the old truck had more in it than I’d thought.
The SUV accelerated too, gaining ground.
I braced myself. Then Dean slammed on the brakes and twisted the wheel.
I lurched forward against my seatbelt, my healing collarbone screaming in pain. The SUV shot past us. For a split second, I saw the masked face turn toward us.
Then the driver over-corrected. Swerved. The SUV left the road, and its right front bumper smashed into a tree with a sickening crunch of metal and breaking glass.
Smoke began rising from the crumpled hood.
“Should we—” I started.
“No,” Dean said firmly. “We’re getting out of here.”
He accelerated, and we raced ahead, leaving the wreck behind us.