Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Present Day
Thirty minutes later, Mo sat in the spa lobby while Bronwyn, as Meredith would say, got her zen on.
Mo hoped it helped. He’d been anti-massage for anything other than injury purposes until Meredith had ambushed him last year. He’d found himself getting a cut, a shave, and a massage, followed by some time in the sauna.
He’d walked out calmer and more relaxed than he’d been in months.
And he’d gone back twice since.
He should probably schedule another one.
When they left Bronwyn’s office, they’d made a quick run to her home before heading to the spa. As he’d done for the past couple of days, he cleared the house before letting her enter. When he walked into her office, he’d nearly come unglued.
She’d moved her piece on the Chinese checkers board. It was right there, plain as day. She hadn’t made a move the last time he looked. But now, her red marble was on the board.
He needed to finish clearing the house. Leaving her outside while he stared at a Chinese checkers board was . . . ridiculous. But before he left her office, he made another move of his own. Maybe this time it wouldn’t take so long for her to respond.
Not that she would be home. He was keeping her on Quinn land tonight. And maybe tomorrow night. And maybe the night after that.
He’d keep her there forever if he could get away with it.
His phone vibrated in his hand. He kept his voice low and answered. “What do you have for me?”
“Nothing that makes sense.” The female voice on the other end of the line was clipped and didn’t pause for him to respond.
“Your Peter Brown is running through my facial rec software now. It picked him up at the Charlotte airport yesterday as he got off a flight from DC. We have another capture at a rental counter. He’s driving a black Suburban.
He flew in and rented the vehicle under the name Peter Brown, so he has photo identification and credit cards in that name, but that’s an alias. ”
Mo wasn’t surprised. But he was impressed with how fast Sabrina found the information he requested.
“Peter Brown goes by several other names,” she went on. “Three so far. And the system hasn’t checked all the databases I have access to. Two of them are as obviously fake as the one he’s using now.”
“John Smith?”
“No, but they might as well be. David Black and Robert White. Someone needs to tell him to step away from colors. The other name is Kevin Glen Masters, and that’s the one you need to spend some time on. I know there’s something there. I just don’t have it yet.”
“I’m not in front of a computer. Won’t be for a while.”
“Not a problem. I’ll send you what I have. It doesn’t make sense to me. Why would a man with a criminal record for assault be posing as a reporter?”
Mo jumped to his feet and paced the room. He wanted to grab Bronwyn and take her far, far away from here. But he couldn’t. Not yet.
“I assume from your silence that you have an idea of why he might be doing that?”
“Yes,” he answered. “And no.”
“Explain, please.”
“We’re having some trouble here. Suspicious activity. Weird behavior. Possible threats. Having someone pose as a reporter when he intends to do harm doesn’t come as too much of a shock. Especially after the way this guy harassed Bronwyn during their so-called interview today.”
“I see.” A pause. “Is she safe?”
“I’ll make her safe.”
Another pause. “I’m sure you will. I’ll send you what I have. And if anything new turns up, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you for this. I owe you. I certainly didn’t expect you to drop everything and run with it. Were you sitting at home with nothing to do?”
“I’ve made a few mods to my algorithm. I’ve played with it a few times, but this is allowing me to put it to a real-world test. I’ve been itching to play with it, and your timing was perfect. Adam’s working late, and the baby is spending the evening with her grandparents.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Why uh-oh?”
“If you have a sitter, I assume you and Adam had plans, and he’s working late.”
“We did. But his parents watch the baby anytime we ask. We aren’t hurting for opportunities. Adam rarely works like this, and when he does, it matters. I’m the one more likely to be tied up at work, so I don’t complain when it happens to him.”
“You’re a remarkable woman, Dr. Fleming-Campbell.”
“That’s a nice way of saying I’m weird.” Sabrina’s laughter confirmed that she wasn’t angry. “Which is true. But I’m good—Oh. Adam’s calling. Keep me in the loop.”
“Will do.”
The line disconnected.
Kevin Glen Masters, I’m coming for you.
There wasn’t much he could do until he was at his computer. He checked his watch. Made a few phone calls. Checked his watch again.
Thirty-seven minutes later, Bronwyn emerged with hair mussed, makeup gone, and eyes heavy-lidded in a way that told him Katrina, the massage therapist, had worked a miracle.
Her smile was soft, and she blinked at him several times.
Katrina followed her out and laughed. “Mo, you’re going to need to keep an eye on her. She’s so relaxed I’m not sure if she can walk straight. I wish I could use before and after videos for endorsements.”
“No doubt.” He agreed. “She walked in there strung tight. And now?” He pointed toward her.
“Right?”
Bronwyn made a production out of tapping her ear. “I can hear you, you know.”
Was she slurring her words?
“Not that I care. I’m not sure if I care about anything right now.” Bronwyn took in a deep breath and closed her eyes as she exhaled. “Katrina, whatever you plan to charge, I suggest you double it.”
Katrina turned off a few lights and walked with them to the door.
“Mo, she told me she’s headed back to your place for some firepit action and to spend the night with Meredith.
Or maybe with Landry?” She waved a hand.
“Anyway, she mentioned that the only thing that could make her feel better was some ice cream. Something with cornflakes in it? Do you know it?”
Mo groaned. “I know it. Meredith, Landry, and Bronwyn are singlehandedly responsible for Lionel carrying it at the grocery store now. Never seen anything like it.”
“Is it good? Because it sounds a little sketchy.” Katrina wrinkled her nose. “Cornflakes?”
“You owe it to yourself to try it. I hate to admit it, but it is quite possibly the best thing you’ll ever eat.” He looked at Bronwyn. “I guess we’ll swing by the store and grab some on the way to the house.”
“I might follow you,” Katrina said. “You’ve intrigued me.”
“Good. We’ll see you there.”
Mo watched as Bronwyn hugged Katrina and whispered something that made her laugh.
If you could be drunk on relaxation, Bronwyn was.
“Are you sure she’s safe to drive?” Mo asked Katrina.
“She’ll be fine. She’s just trying to hold on to the feeling as long as possible.”
“Fair enough. I’ll follow you both out.”
He was unsurprised when both women pulled into the Gossamer Grocers parking lot. Bronwyn appeared to be less spacey than she’d been earlier, but she also looked a little bit like she might have been crying in the car.
Mo followed them inside but hung back near the doors. The store was small, and it wasn’t hard for him to keep an eye on them as they went straight to the ice cream case. They didn’t dawdle. They were in line two minutes later. Mo stepped outside and waited for them by his Jeep.
The sun was still up, but it had dropped behind the mountains, and the air was cooling off ever so slightly.
It was more ice cream weather than it was firepit weather, but he wouldn’t argue with Eliza, especially when she was doing such a good job of giving Bronwyn the excuse she needed to leave The Haven property.
Maybe if he could keep her on Quinn land for a few days, he could keep her safe and get some sleep. He rubbed his hand over his face.
The crunch of tires on the pavement behind him caught his attention and he turned to see who else was doing some evening shopping.
Lionel, the store owner, walked by as the cashier scanned Bronwyn’s ice cream. “You’d better be getting that for Landry.” He winked at her.
“It’s for me, but I’m planning to share.” Bronwyn took her receipt and the bag of frozen goodness. “But unless you have some in the back, you’d better order more. I convinced Katrina here to try it, and we took the last two pints.”
“Good to know,” Lionel said, scanning Katrina’s purchases. “I’ll get some more in. I still haven’t tried it.”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand and walked backward, toward the door. “This is dangerous stuff. One taste and you’ll be ordering it by the truckload.”
Lionel’s laughter followed her out the door.
She turned and froze.
Mo was pacing outside the store. His eyes weren’t on her. They were on the parking lot.
He looked so tired. His shoulders were slumped. His eyes, those bright blue Quinn eyes, were shadowed. And his face somehow looked older than she’d ever seen it.
Her heart hurt.
This probably wasn’t the time. It definitely wasn’t the place.
But maybe she could say “Hi.” Or “Thank you.” Or “Mo, I really appreciate your help.” And then, like the cowardly lion, she could hop in her car and drive away before he had a chance to reply.
And she would have spoken to him and opened that door, and he could walk through it or not.
But at least if she ran away, he wouldn’t have a chance to slam it in her face immediately.
But she couldn’t do that. Not now. She wasn’t going home. She was going to his home. Or, beside it. His property. Sort of. If she ran away, he would follow her. He had to follow her. And the level of awkward would be . . . She cringed at the thought.
Ugh. She was such a coward. She waited near the door for Katrina to complete her purchase, then walked with her to the parking lot.
A truck pulled up behind Mo’s Jeep, and the passenger window slid down. She expected someone to call out to Mo. The occupants were probably Quinns.
But instead of a friendly face, the unmistakable end of a rifle appeared. And pointed straight at—