Chapter Eighteen Chloe
I pull my phone from my back pocket and step closer to the exposed wall.
Spock moves with me.
I glance at him. “What are you doing?”
“Protecting you.”
The flat certainty in his voice tells me arguing will be a waste of time. He plants himself less than two feet away, his broad body positioned between me and the doorway Steven disappeared through. His shoulders are rigid, and his hands remain curled into fists at his sides.
He’s still angry. He isn’t the only one.
I activate the camera on my phone and take several pictures of the damage. I start with a wide shot that captures the entire wall, then move closer to photograph the torn drywall, exposed studs, and wiring. I study it all, and still nothing jumps out at me.
The electrical boxes are mounted where they’re supposed to be. The wires are in place. They aren’t hanging loose or tangled. I don’t see anything that would justify Steven ripping down a section of freshly installed drywall after everyone else has gone home.
“What’s going on?” Spock asks.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not much of an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.” I crouch to photograph the pieces of drywall scattered across the floor. “Blackwood has been acting strange lately.”
Spock goes completely still. “How strange?”
I look up at him. His expression is hard enough to make me reconsider my wording.
“Not violent,” I say quickly. “At least, not until whatever that was.”
“He looked like he was about to lay hands on you.”
“I know.”
“If I hadn’t walked in—”
“But you did.”
His jaw tightens. “That doesn’t answer what would’ve happened if I hadn’t.”
I rise and slip my phone into my pocket. “Steven has been more argumentative than usual. He keeps questioning my decisions, especially about Inferno Ridge. He’s pushed me several times to walk away from the project.”
“Why?”
“He claims it’s bringing too much trouble and putting the rest of the company at risk.”
“Maybe he’s the trouble.”
The possibility sends a chill across my skin, but I force myself to study the wall again.
Steven hasn’t worked for me long, but up until recently, I considered him someone I could trust. He can be condescending and stubborn.
He’s far too convinced that he’s the smartest person on every jobsite, but that doesn’t make him responsible for the sabotage or the attack on Dad.
It doesn’t explain this wall, either.
“I don’t know why he was tearing it down,” I admit. “Everything looks fine to me.”
Spock steps closer to the opening but doesn’t touch anything. His gaze tracks along the wiring before moving over the exposed studs. “Could something be hidden inside?”
The question makes my stomach tighten.
“I don’t see anything, but I’m not going to assume.” I take another series of close-up photographs, making sure I capture every wire and connection. “I’ll call the electrical technician who worked on this unit. He can tell me whether anything is missing or installed incorrectly.”
“And if he says the work was finished?”
“Then Steven lied.”
Spock’s eyes meet mine. “And we find out what he was really doing.”
A scrape sounds somewhere outside the apartment, and Spock immediately turns toward it. His entire body shifts, ready for a threat. A second later, Hawk appears in the hallway.
“Just me,” he says, raising one hand. “Blackwood drove off. Rush is checking the cameras to make sure we got his vehicle leaving.”
I nod, but my attention returns to the wall. There is something wrong with the situation. I can feel it. For the first time since all the trouble began, I’m wondering if the trouble hasn’t been circling, but has been inside the whole time.
Spock’s attention shifts from the damaged wall to Hawk.
“You see anything out of the ordinary today?” he asks. “Anything involving Blackwood?”
Hawk leans one shoulder against the doorframe and folds his arms over his chest. His expression changes as he thinks back over the day.
“Blackwood mostly kept to himself.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“He spent most of his time in the construction office.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” I glance toward the hallway as if Steven might suddenly reappear and explain himself. “He’s the foreman. His job is to monitor the work, deal with problems, and make sure everyone has what they need. He shouldn’t be sitting in the office all day.”
Hawk gives me a slight shrug. “Saw him come out a few times; he checked in with the crews, but then he went right back into the office.”
“What about anyone approaching him?” Spock asks. “Any arguments? Private conversations?”
“He had a visitor.”
The words send a fresh wave of unease through me.
“What visitor?” I ask.
Hawk looks at me. “The guy who came by earlier returned to speak with Blackwood.”
For a second, I don’t understand who he means. Several people have been on and off the property today. Workers, delivery drivers, inspectors—
Then it clicks.
“Paul Scaro?”
“Don’t know his name,” Hawk says. “He drove an expensive car and dressed like he was going to the boardroom.”
“That’s Paul.” My voice sounds distant to my own ears. “He’s the developer.”
Spock turns fully toward Hawk. “When did he come back?”
“Late afternoon. Most of the crew was still here, but they were finishing up. Blackwood met him outside the office and hurried him inside. They shut the door.”
“How long were they in there?” I ask.
“Maybe twenty minutes.”
“And then he left?”
“Yeah. Blackwood stayed in the office another half hour or so. Came out once the crew started clearing the site.”
My gaze drifts toward the broken wall.
Paul was here earlier to check on the project after hearing about Dad’s attack.
I walked him through the site, answered his questions, and assured him DC Construction would cover the cost of repairing the vandalism.
He was worried about delays and expenses, which wasn’t unusual for a developer.
What is unusual is that he returned without contacting me.
Paul hired my company. He would have no reason to have a private meeting with my foreman.
“He didn’t tell me he was coming back,” I say.
Spock’s eyes narrow. “Would he normally?”
“Yes. I’m the owner of the company, and this is his project. If Paul had concerns, he should’ve called me.” I look at Hawk. “Did you hear any of their conversation?”
He shakes his head. “The door was closed. I wasn’t close enough.”
“Did they argue?” Spock asks.
“Couldn’t say. Scaro looked pissed when he arrived, but resolved when he left.”
A knot forms in my stomach. I pull my phone out again, though I’m no longer thinking about the pictures I took. I’m thinking about calling Paul and demanding an explanation.
Spock reaches over and closes his hand around my wrist before I can unlock the screen.
“Hold on.”
I lift my gaze to his. “He went behind my back.”
“Maybe,” Spock says. “But we don’t know why. If you call him now, you warn him that we’re looking.”
“We?”
His grip loosens, but he doesn’t release me. “Yeah, Chloe. We.”
Behind him, the exposed wiring stretches through the wall exactly where it belongs. Nothing is missing. Nothing appears damaged. Yet Steven waited until after hours to tear into it, hours after meeting privately with Paul Scaro. My unease grows.
“Why would Paul come back to speak with Steven?” I whisper.
Whatever is happening at Riversedge Apartments, Steven Blackwood may not be the only person keeping secrets from me.
Spock releases my wrist and pulls his phone from the inside pocket of his kutte.
“I’m going to find out.”
The calmness of his voice doesn’t fool me. His jaw remains tight, and there’s a dangerous edge in his eyes that has been there since Steven stepped toward me. Spock may have controlled his temper enough to let Steven leave, but he hasn’t forgiven the man. Neither have I.
He taps the screen, then turns on the speaker before placing the call.
Spark answers after the second ring. “What’s up?”
“Have you looked into Steven Blackwood yet?” Spock asks.
There’s a short pause. “Chloe’s foreman?”
“Yeah.”
“Not yet. He’s on my list, but I started with Chloe’s former employees.”
I fold my arms across my chest and stare at the exposed wall. Until tonight, I wouldn’t have expected Steven to be anywhere near the top of Spark’s list. I trusted him. My father liked him.
Maybe we were both wrong.
“What happened?” Spark asks.
“We caught him tearing down drywall at Riversedge after the crew left,” Spock says. “Claimed the electrical work wasn’t finished.”
“It is,” I interject. “At least, everything I can see appears complete. I’m going to confirm it with the electrician.”
“There’s more,” Spock continues. “Blackwood spent most of the day hiding in the office instead of supervising the crew. Scaro came back this afternoon and met with him privately.”
“Paul Scaro?” Spark asks.
“Yes,” I answer. “The developer.”
A woman’s voice breaks into the conversation. “I can look into Blackwood.”
I recognize Juliet immediately. Her voice is slightly farther away, as though she’s sitting across the room from Spark.
“You sure?” Spark asks her.
“I’m already working through the people connected to Red Rock and Red Mesa. I can add another name.”
Spock’s gaze meets mine. The hard edge in his expression softens, but only slightly.
“Do it,” he says. “And look into Paul Scaro, too. See if there’s any connection between the two men outside this project.”
“What kind of connection?” Juliet asks.
“Financial, personal, professional,” Spock replies. “Anything that explains why a developer would meet privately with a foreman and leave the company’s owner out of it.”
I bristle at the reminder.
Paul should have called me if he had concerns about Riversedge. He shouldn’t have returned to the site and gone behind my back. Steven shouldn’t have spent the day locked in the office, and he damn sure shouldn’t have torn into a finished wall after everyone left.
Too many things aren’t adding up.
“I’ll check property records, business filings, court cases, and social media,” Juliet says. “If their names appear together anywhere, I’ll find it.”
“Send me whatever you get,” Spock says.
“You got it.”
He ends the call and slides the phone back into his pocket.
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“We let Juliet and Spark work. You call the electrician tomorrow and find out if there was a legitimate reason to open that wall.”
“And if there wasn’t?”
“Then we figure out what Blackwood was doing.”
My gaze returns to the opening. Earlier, it looked like pointless damage. Now, I can’t stop wondering whether Steven intended to remove something, plant something, or create a problem he could blame on me later.
Spock steps into my line of sight.
“We’ll figure this out,” he assures me. “Blackwood, Scaro, the sabotage—all of it.”
The certainty in his voice eases some of the pressure building in my chest. “You sound awfully confident.”
“I am.” His gaze moves over my face again, checking me as carefully as he inspected the damaged wall. “But we’re done here tonight.”
“I still need to—”
“No.”
I lift an eyebrow. “No?”
“No more work. No confronting Blackwood. No calling Scaro.” He reaches for my hand and curls his fingers around mine. “After I show you where we placed all the cameras, I’m taking you to dinner.”
I should resent his bossy attitude, but having him take control is just what I need right now. So, instead of arguing, I accept my fate.