Chapter 3 #2
Cassius waited what he thought was a reasonable amount of time, but Ben kept silent. Everyone kept silent, keeping the channel clear for orders and advisories.
“Status!” Cassius barked, unwilling to wait.
He wanted to know what was going on, and he wanted to know now. He was in charge of the wolves on this op—by far the largest contingent on scene. If things went south, it was his ass on the line.
“Jimmy’s in the elevator with them. The dude followed her right into the box. Doesn’t she know better?” Ben’s voice in Cassius’s ear was both angry and dismayed.
“She’s human, Ben. Cut her some slack. They don’t have our instincts,” Cassius said quickly. “How’s it look?”
“Jimmy’s behind the male. He’s making a face. Something about the guy is off, I think, but we’ll have to wait until the box opens before Jim can report,” Ben said.
“By that time, we’ll have them surrounded,” Cassius said with satisfaction. “What floor?”
“She pushed the lobby button. The man didn’t countermand her. I’ve got control of that elevator, and I’m sending it directly to the lobby. No stops in between,” Ben reported.
“Good man,” Cassius complimented the Pack’s tech expert.
Ben was a very useful wolf to have around.
“Okay, you heard the man. Everybody stationed on the lobby level, converge around the south elevator. Everybody else—I want to know who that guy is. I want his room and belongings searched. Beware possible magical traps. The jags are sideways with a lot of magic users. Be warned.”
Cassius was on the move as he issued the orders. He took a full luggage cart and headed for the south elevator. He’d be waiting for the lady when the box opened. And heaven help the stranger if he meant to do her harm.
*
“So, they just let you go? I find that hard to believe.”
“Really, Mr. Mason. I’m done with this conversation. Believe me or not. That’s what happened.” Shelly finally objected to the man’s continued questions.
The guy had followed her right into the elevator and kept badgering her. Thank goodness there had been a man already on the elevator when it stopped on her floor. She would not have wanted to be stuck alone with this Mason character.
Of course, the stranger’s presence hadn’t seemed to stop Mason from cross-examining her. However, she felt like it had stopped him from doing anything more drastic. Thank goodness for small favors.
She’d had enough, though. It was time to go on the offensive. Maybe that would make him back down. It was a tactic she’d used in the past with some success. Maybe it would work now.
“Just who the hell are you, anyway? We’ve never met before, have we?” She let some of her irritation show as she faced him and deliberately put her luggage between them.
She watched his eyelids lower partially, as if assessing her. He didn’t move, but she could feel him take a figurative step back. Her ploy was working—at least a little.
“I’m an investigative journalist. I’m researching a book on Pepard and Balam. I thought maybe you’d have some insider information on what happened last night.”
It sounded plausible, but something about this guy gave her the creeps. He wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Or maybe none of it was true.
“Well, you’re wasting your time. I didn’t get within ten feet of Mr. Pepard at the reception, and I have no idea who Balam is.”
The first part of her statement was true as far as it went. She hadn’t gotten close to Mark at the reception at all. It was after that she’d gotten closer to him than she’d ever expected. And she really didn’t know who Balam was. The name was as unfamiliar as Antony Mason’s.
“Balam is the head of security for Pepard Enterprises.” Mason gave out the information as if expecting her to know what he was talking about. He watched her so intensely. As if he was waiting for her to betray some secret knowledge.
“Sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell. I did talk to some security people last night, but none of them were named Balam.”
Reading Mason’s expression was hard, but he seemed to believe her.
Thankfully, the elevator pinged, and the doors began to open.
The conversation was over as far as she was concerned.
She’d weathered the storm and hopefully had passed whatever test this Mason guy had been delivering.
With any luck, that would be the end of it.
The door to the elevator opened all the way, and she made a move to get off, but Mason grabbed her arm.
He yanked her backward so hard, her arm hurt, and she knew she would be bruised tomorrow.
She stumbled but managed to stay on her feet—and as far from Mason as she could manage, which, unfortunately, wasn’t far enough.
“If you’re lying to me—” Mason hissed near her ear. But he didn’t get to finish his threat, because the man who’d been behind them in the elevator put one hand on Mason’s shoulder, tugging backward. At the same time, a big man in a bellman’s uniform stepped into the open doorway.
“Is there a problem here?” the bellman asked in a deep voice, capturing Shelly’s attention.
She looked up at Mason and saw the moment he decided to give in gracefully. He let go of her arm and glanced challengingly at the man behind him then at the bellman in front.
“No problem. I was just helping the lady when she stumbled. Isn’t that right, Ms. Howell?”
“No, that’s not right.” She stepped away, out of the elevator, past the giant bellman, pulling her luggage behind her. “You’re a creep, Mr. Mason, and I want nothing to do with you,” she added, over her shoulder.
“That’s all right, miss. I’ll make sure he doesn’t give you any more trouble.” The bellman gave her a friendly wink as she made good her escape. If anyone could keep Mason away from her, it was the beefy bellman.
“Thank you,” she said in a huffy tone, but really, she couldn’t help it. She was both scared and irritated, which wasn’t a good combination.
Shelly made a beeline for the valet, handing her ticket to the woman behind the desk. She’d called down before she left her room, but she was a little nervous about possibly having to wait for her car to arrive. How long could the bellman really keep Mason at bay?
“Your car is pulling up at the curb now,” the lady behind the small desk reported, much to Shelly’s surprise.
“That was fast.”
“We will delay the man from the elevator as long as possible. Please give the jaguar our best compliments.” The woman spoke in a low voice that only Shelly could hear.
Nothing showed on the valet woman’s face as she took Shelly’s ticket and gestured toward her car, which had been driven up to the curb.
A muscular young man was getting out of her driver’s seat.
He winked at her as he waited for Shelly to join him at the open door.
She realized these people were in on Mark’s secret.
They were probably sent here by him—or Nick—to make sure she got out of here safely.
After the encounter with Mason, Shelly was glad for their presence.
“Is the bellman part of your group?” she asked in as quiet a voice as possible.
The lady nodded, smiling. “He is our leader. The silent guy in the elevator with you was also one of ours. Please pass on our vigilance to your Alpha. We are glad to be of help to him.”
Relief flooded through Shelly at the thought that what Nick had said last night was true. She was being guarded by Pepard’s people in case of repercussions from the night before. She’d resented the idea last night, but after the scary moments with Mason, Shelly was happy to have them around.
“Thank you. I will.” Shelly was feeling a little overwhelmed. “Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”
The woman smiled at her. “Happy to help.” She kept her expression pleasantly bland, but Shelly saw the sparkle in her eye that said more than words. “Now, you best be on your way.”
“Right.” Shelly straightened her backbone and realized she had to leave. She had to get on the road—away from the momentary safety these people provided. “Thanks again.”
Shelly walked over to the car, and the young man took her bag, stowing it in the trunk for her. She handed him a tip, but when she pulled back her hand, he’d replaced the folded dollar bills with a piece of brown paper. A note.
“Thanks. Drive safe now, ma’am,” he said, smiling at her as he waited to close her door after she’d sat down.
She’d never gotten such attentive treatment before in her life, even sporting the Howell name. But she couldn’t really enjoy it. She faced a long drive ahead of her, and Mason might have friends on the road. She wanted to get home fast. Back to the place she felt safest.
Shelly took off, palming the note until she got to a red light where she could glance down and read the short message.
Drive normally. You have an escort home.
It was signed simply, Mark.
Shelly felt her stomach clench in a way that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. Far from it.
He had provided for her safety. She’d found Mark Pepard attractive from the moment she laid eyes on him from afar at the dinner, but then, everything had gotten so weird. His people had threatened her. Berated her. Questioned her like she was the bad guy.
There was something about him. Something compelling. Something that wouldn’t let her not think about him. She didn’t know why, but that’s just the way it was.
Shelly got out of the city, feeling much better about her drive, knowing there were some folks on the road whose job it was to see she made it home safely.
She hadn’t really believed the worry Mark had hinted at over possible repercussions from last night, but after that jerk Mason cornered her, and the way he’d tried to grab her when she left the elevator—she was glad of the escort.
It might be ridiculous to think someone would try to harm her on the road, but she’d also thought anyone questioning her about last night had been ridiculous. She’d already been proven very wrong this morning. She didn’t want to try for a second round.