Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Dean
“This place gives me the creeps,” Keira muttered, eyeing the deserted park through her binoculars.
“No kidding.” I glanced around the parking lot, where the only other car was a decrepit, abandoned van with two flat tires.
“Lots of places for people to hide in the trees. But Phelan really did seem scared. Not sure he’s that good of an actor.” She handed me the binoculars, and I took a look from the passenger seat.
We were in Keira’s car. She’d insisted on being the one to drive us into town this afternoon, even though I’d asked her on the date.
I was already losing patience with this whole situation. We should’ve been walking down Main Street right now toward the restaurant. Not scoping out a clandestine meeting spot, hoping Phelan actually had information and wouldn’t screw us over.
I’d wanted to do something special for Keira tonight.
Wanted to give her just a little bit of what she deserved, even though I couldn’t give her everything.
Shopping with her had felt so normal. She’d seemed like she wasn’t enjoying it at first, but after I showed her how sexy she was in that dress, well…
Danger had been the last thing on my mind.
I’d told Keira to head to the coffee shop while I bought her a present.
It was still in my pocket, wrapped up in tissue paper.
But I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight.
Keira was far stronger now, and she’d been working her ass off in training, so it wasn’t about her ability.
I didn’t want her to have to defend herself.
Fucking Donny Phelan. He’d snuck up on Keira and ruined our afternoon, so I wasn’t feeling very sympathetic to the guy. Certainly didn’t trust him.
The ambiance of the park didn’t reassure me. A tall chain-link fence surrounded an ancient playground full of rusty equipment. Looked like the county was going to replace the old jungle gym and swing set with newer stuff, but the construction hadn’t started yet.
There were some picnic tables scattered among the pines, fire rings dark with ash, and a single restroom facility that had seen better days.
We still had fifteen minutes before we were supposed to meet. Phelan had suggested this spot, all nervous and paranoid, before he dashed out of the coffee shop.
“You think it’s a trap?” I asked. “Say the word, and we’re out.”
If Phelan had genuine info, then of course I wanted to know what it was. But another part of me just wanted to go back to Main Street with Keira. Have our dinner out, an actual date, as if I had nothing else to worry about except making her smile.
Lately, I’d been wishing for an alternate reality more and more. A different version of our lives where Keira and I could be together without any complications. Where I’d never left Hart County at all, and she’d never been shot, and I wasn’t…me.
“I want to meet with him,” Keira said. “I want to know what Phelan is up to. Every other lead has dried up.”
“Then we’ll stay.”
“But I’m going in armed.” She reached over to her glovebox and pulled out her concealed holster and service weapon.
“You brought a gun on our date?”
Keira smirked. “Like it’s that strange. I’m still a cop. You’re just annoyed we didn’t take your truck. I know you keep your SIG Sauer in there all the time now. And a knife or two as well.”
I shrugged. She wasn’t wrong. “Might be hard to keep a Glock concealed in that dress.”
Neither of us had changed out of our new clothes. There hadn’t been much chance. And I did have a small hope of getting dinner with her after our chat with Phelan.
Keira dug in the back seat and produced a cardigan. After putting on her concealed holster, she pushed her arms into the light sweater. It was just loose enough to obscure the weapon. “See? I’ve got all kinds of stuff in here. Betty’s a very good car. I missed her when I couldn’t drive.”
“Betty? You named your car Betty? How is this the first I’m hearing of it?”
Keira arranged her braid. Soft curls framed her face. “You don’t know everything, Reynolds. You think you’re mysterious, but I’ve got some mysteries to me too.”
Grinning, I cupped the back of her neck. “I know you do. I’d love to solve every one.” I leaned in for a kiss. Then another.
Fuck Donny Phelan, I thought to myself. We could stand him up. Drive away right now and enjoy our evening together. I would give her the gift I’d bought and, maybe, we could try to make this work for real.
But that was just a fantasy talking. The only reason Keira and I were together right now was the mission.
So I reluctantly pulled away. “Let’s take a closer look before he gets here,” I said.
She nodded.
We checked the bathrooms and the perimeter of the park until we were satisfied. No sign of anyone else waiting or any surveillance. We chose the picnic table with the best position and waited.
Right on time, another car pulled into the lot. A door opened. Phelan slunk toward us.
He’d left the cowboy hat somewhere, probably in his vehicle, and his dishwater brown hair was lank. Even the diamond stud in his ear seemed dull, lacking its usual shine.
Keira sat on top of the picnic table, sandals resting on one bench, while I hovered beside her. “Out with it, Donny,” I said. “What’s this about?”
He kept glancing around. “I told you they’ve been watching me.”
Keira crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “Crosshairs Security?”
Phelan sucked in a breath. “You know them?”
“We know they work for you,” she responded.
“It started that way.” He rubbed his eyes. “I moved here last year to expand my business. People love the rugged cowboy, Marlboro-man persona, you know?”
I held back an eye roll as he kept talking.
“I met a guy at a strip club one night. Nox Woodson. He told me he worked as a bodyguard for a company called Crosshairs Security, and if I ever needed anything, I should give him a call.”
Keira and I exchanged a glance.
“Then a few weeks later, I started getting threats. Anonymous messages claiming to be from disgruntled customers who were going to tell everyone I was a fraud. Ruin me.”
“Because of your shady supplement sales?” Keira’s tone was cold. “Or the coaching scam?”
“It’s not a scam.” But Phelan couldn’t meet her eyes. “Okay, look. The whole Real Man Formula thing, the podcast, the coaching… It’s just marketing. A way to sell product. Nobody else out there believes what they’re selling either. It’s all just noise to move merchandise.”
“You’re a piece of work,” Keira said.
Phelan bristled. “I didn’t come here for a lecture.”
“Then get to the point,” I said. If he started saying shit to Keira or called her little girl, the rest of this conversation wouldn’t be nearly so friendly.
“After the threats started, I called Woodson. He said Crosshairs could find the people making threats and take care of the problem without any authorities getting involved. He and his friends would shut it down.”
“You weren’t concerned about the methods they were using?” Keira asked.
Phelan’s jaw tightened. “Crosshairs seemed legit, based on my research.”
“Did you meet with Harris Medina?” I asked. “The head of Crosshairs Security?”
He shook his head. “No, I’ve never spoken to the guy. Woodson said he had clearance to do whatever was necessary to keep my business safe. I didn’t really care how they did it.”
“Meaning you didn’t care if they did anything illegal,” I said flatly.
“I just wanted the threats to stop. I wanted to protect what I’d built. Looking back, I think Woodson was behind the threats in the first place. He set me up. Played me to get access to my business, all so Crosshairs could take it over.”
I could just imagine a guy like Woodson, former drug dealer and ex-con, meeting Donny Phelan. The podcaster was probably throwing cash around the strip club, bragging about his media empire. Woodson saw an opportunity for his company.
But for what, exactly? And how far up the chain at Crosshairs did this go?
I crossed my arms. “What do you mean, take it over?”
Phelan pushed his hair back. “I don’t know. Deliveries come in. Shipments go out, but it’s not just my supplements and coaching materials anymore. Crosshairs took over my finances too. I can’t access half my own accounts.”
“Money laundering,” I said, thinking it through. “Or they’re using your shipments as cover for drug distribution.”
Phelan flinched. “I didn’t sign up for any of that.”
“What about Natasha?” Keira asked. “Is she in trouble too?”
“Natasha was smarter than me. She saw how bad things were getting and took off a couple weeks ago. Quit on me, no notice. I haven’t got anyone in that house on my side anymore.
I’ve been switching out my Porsche for friends’ cars just in case Crosshairs is tracking me.
They talk to me like a fucking dog, order me around inside my own house, and I won’t take it anymore. ”
I took a step toward him. “Then you saw Keira in Hartley today and—what? What did you think she could do?”
“Keira has law enforcement connections. She can help me and keep this discreet. Since she’s on leave, nobody would assume I’m narcing if I’m seen talking to her. I know we’ve had our disagreements before, but…”
Keira scoffed. “Disagreements. That’s an interesting way to put it. You’ve been a complete asshat every time we spoke.”
“But I didn’t report it when your boyfriend attacked me. I could have pressed charges!”
“Thanks,” I said sarcastically. “Let’s get back to the point. You said you know who shot Keira. Were you involved?”
Phelan hesitated, nervousness flickering across his face. “I had nothing to do with your shooting, Keira. I swear. I don’t know who did it for sure.”
“But?” she pressed.
“But I have suspicions.” Phelan’s voice dropped. “Nox Woodson is vicious. Sadistic. But there’s another guy from Crosshairs who’s even worse. Ryan Garrett.” He shuddered as he said the name.
At the same time, Keira went rigid beside me, as if she’d stopped breathing.