Chapter 10 #3
“It’s possible Rushton approached him about getting access to your accounts.
Maybe he’s the one who pulled Brent into this …
or maybe he’s not involved.” He had to admit the possibility that, despite Brent’s problems, he might not be directly involved in trying to harm Darby.
It didn’t excuse his behavior, but it might be easier for her to accept.
“His gambling might have placed him around people who would do things beyond his control. I have to confess, he didn’t seem angry toward you that day at the dealership. I saw true regret in his demeanor.”
“That doesn’t make what’s happening right. He still caused it.”
“True, but sometimes we do things, not realizing how bad the consequences will be.” He understood that. Still, defending Brent Foster didn’t sit right with him. He might have gotten pulled into something he hadn’t wanted, but he hadn’t done much to help them stop it either.
Her eyes probed his. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience. Not your wife and daughter? You couldn’t have stopped that.”
“No, this was something else.” She didn’t need to know the details of Denton, but it felt good to speak about them to someone who might understand. “I was on an assignment, and I made a mistake. A critical error that got an innocent person killed.”
She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s hard when there’s nothing you can do to make up for the damage you’ve done. I understand that feeling. I have to confess, I saw that look on Brent’s face. I think he’s truly sorry for the hurt he caused you.”
She rubbed her face as she straightened. “That doesn’t matter. It’s not enough.”
The other machines buzzed, indicating they were done. Together, they placed the bedding and the remaining clothes into dryers then waited around for them to finish.
Their conversations for the rest of the afternoon remained neutral. They spoke about laundry and what they wanted for dinner, finally choosing to dig into the casserole Mrs. Buford had given Darby. He purchased sodas from the vending machine, and they had a mini-picnic in the laundromat.
Once the dryers finished, they folded the clothes then loaded them into her rental car. Darby kept a few things out for herself and David in baskets. They drove to the storage center and deposited the rest.
Once back at the Sheraton Inn, the stress of the day was visible on Darby’s face.
“I’m going to lay down and rest for a while,” she said before disappearing into her adjoining room.
He left her alone while he phoned Cooper for an update.
“I’ve been combing through Rushton’s history and financials.
It looks like he plowed through his grandmother’s fortune over the past decade.
He’s broke now, so finding out Darby got that money instead of him was probably infuriating.
It looks as if the grandmother placed this money for Darby into a special trust for her years before Rushton took over her care.
He probably didn’t even know about it until after she died. ”
“We need to speak with Rushton. Can you find out where he’s staying?”
“He has charges for the rental car, along with a hotel in downtown Sheraton—the Regency Hotel.”
Clay checked the GPS and saw the Regency Hotel wasn’t far. His first instinct was to go and find him to demand to know what he’s doing in town and if he could be involved in the threats against Darby.
Only he hated to leave her alone and vulnerable.
But she still had Hercules, and he would alert her to any danger. Besides, he’d chosen this place at random. No one knew where they were, and he’d parked her rental—that no one knew about—behind the building, out of sight.
And there was no one else he could send. He didn’t trust the local police to handle this matter, and it would take too long for Sheriff Malone to get here.
He knocked on the adjoining door, and Darby quickly opened it.
Pain was etched across her face. It had been a long, rough few days for her, and he was suddenly struck with the desire just to hold her until everything was better.
He pushed down those feelings…for now. She’d made it clear that nothing could happen between them until this mess was over and done with.
“Cooper just found your uncle is staying in town, at the Regency Hotel.”
“Fancy. I guess money is no object for him.”
“I want to question him about his meeting with Brent.”
“Should I come with you?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. He doesn’t know me yet, so I might be able to catch him off guard. I think you’ll be safe here. No one knows our location, and Hercules will make sure no one gets close to you.”
She rubbed her face but gave him a reassuring nod. “I’ll be fine.”
“I shouldn’t have to remind you not to leave the room.”
“I know, I know. I’ll stay here. I’ll probably just lie on the bed and watch an old movie.”
He touched her shoulder, resisting the urge to pull her against him. She was still standoffish, which made sense after what she’d been through. He did plant a kiss on her forehead, and she allowed that. “I won’t be gone long,” he promised.
He hated leaving her, but David was due home in three days.
If they didn’t figure this out before then, Darby would have no choice but to go into hiding in order to protect her son.
That would mean running for the rest of her life.
If they didn’t flush out the person who was behind these threats against her, she would never truly know when it was safe to go on with her life.
He headed across town to the Regency Hotel, where he spotted the Mercedes with the license plate Cooper had sent him.
He was in the right place. Darby had been right about it being fancy.
It was unusual to find such an upscale hotel in a small town like Sheraton.
But they were close to the interstate, which he guessed made the difference.
Clay parked then sat in the truck, working over the best way to approach Rushton.
Identifying himself as law enforcement would only shut him down.
Keeping his FBI connections quiet was his best bet at digging out the truth.
If he could lure him out of his room, he might stand a chance of striking up a conversation with Rushton without the man realizing who Clay was.
Getting him out in the open would be the trick.
Clay got out and headed inside. As he entered, he spotted an entrance to a bar on his left. Good. That would work in his favor. Then, to his surprise, he spotted the man he was looking for, perched on a barstool.
He slid into chair at a corner table, pulled out his phone, and checked the photo Cooper had sent him, just to be certain this was the right guy. He definitely was. In his fifties, short, well dressed.
Clay had eyes on Grant Rushton.
He wasn’t sure how to approach him or even if approaching him was the right course of action.
He couldn’t be wrong on this. If he botched this first contact, he could lose his chance to discover whether Rushton was behind the threats against Darby.
Doubt had crept in. He didn’t want to do anything to risk harming her.
God, please guide me in this. I don’t want to mess up. If I do, Darby’s life could be at risk.
He gathered his courage and stood, only to take cover behind a menu when he spotted the familiar red Dodge Charger roar into the parking lot. Brent Foster got out, hurried into the hotel, took a left into the bar, then took a seat beside Rushton.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
Even less of a coincidence when Clay spotted Rushton pushing a thick envelope into Brent’s hands after a brief conversation.
Clay grabbed his phone and snapped several photos.
He clenched his hands to keep from reacting. He’d just witnessed Darby’s ex-husband selling her out. What other explanation could there be for Rushton giving Brent money? Darby’s ex and her uncle were plotting against her to get their hands on her inheritance money.
Grant Rushton was the man paying for the hit on Darby’s life.
He rubbed his face as Brent Foster hurried away, tucking the envelope full of cash into his jacket as he left.
The man was slimy, but that would work to Grant’s advantage.
He could promise him all the money he needed, and he would have it once he got his hands on the inheritance.
It was rightfully his, and he would do whatever was necessary to get it back.
His ma had been sneaky. She’d managed to hide this money from him, and his accountant hadn’t found it.
Why should Darby get that money when he’d spent his life taking care of his ma, while she’d hardly ever seen her?
His brother’s daughter had never been a part of his mother’s life until a few years ago. He’d preferred she stay away.
Accepting that inheritance money when she’d barely been involved in her grandma’s life hadn’t been smart.
He downed his drink, hoping his plan to work with Brent Foster would come be fruitful.
The man didn’t have the nerve to do what needed to be done, but he could still be useful as the only remaining custodial parent of the child.
Allowing Foster to get his hands on all that money would be a tragedy in itself.
The man would blow it on gambling in no time.
He hated that it had come to working with someone like Brent Foster, but he would do whatever it took to get back what was due him.