Chapter 32 #2
“A lot more than that. I’ll make a nice profit.” Tony laughed as he walked toward the open door, leaned against it with his arms folded, and flashed a toothy grin. “It’s time for you all to go home. I have work to do. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Kaitlyn hugged Tony tight. “See you then, Papa. I love you.”
They left through the back door, walked around to the front of the saloon, and stood next to Kaitlyn and Clay’s cars to discuss last-minute plans.
From the corner of his eye, Bastien spotted a man watching them. He was instantly on alert and signaled Clay with his eyes and finger to check out the man, hoping Remy had taught Clay some basic surveillance techniques.
Clay read the signal and turned discreetly to see what Bastien wanted him to see. “Ah, shit! Bastien, you and Kaitlyn should stay at the mansion tonight.”
Bastien nodded. What he’d perceived as a threat was exactly that. “Who is he?”
“I’m not sure from here. Let’s get the hell out. We’ll meet you at the mansion.”
“I don’t understand,” Kaitlyn said.
Bastien placed his hand on her back and ushered her toward their vehicle. “Somebody’s watching us, and Clay isn’t sure if he’s a good guy or a bad guy.”
She slid behind the wheel, and Bastien hustled to the other side. Once he settled into the seat, he racked the slide of the Sig Clay had given him.
Kaitlyn stared wide-eyed. “What are you doing with a gun?”
“Protecting you. Drive and use all those erratic moves I yelled about this afternoon.”
“You’re scaring me,” she said.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little fear as long as it doesn’t make you freeze up. Stay alert, and if a car pulls up alongside you, evade it.”
“You drive.”
“I can’t drive a car with a clutch.” Bastien pointed ahead. “There’s Clay. Follow him. Even if he turns where you wouldn’t, stay on his tail and hope he knows where he’s going.”
Clay turned, and Kaitlyn followed. Bastien tried to look behind them without appearing to turn. “Do you have a mirror in your purse?”
“There’s a compact. What are you doing? Applying lipstick?”
“Not tonight, sweetie,” he deadpanned. “I want to see behind us.” He opened the case and held it high enough to see who was following them.
“Anything interesting?”
“Not yet. Keep following Clay.” The next time Clay turned, Bastien used the mirror to get a better look behind them. After half a block, he said, “If anyone was following us, we lost them.”
“Maybe no one was ever there.”
“It’s possible, but when my spidey senses act up, I take action, and until you’re safely inside the mansion, I won’t let up my guard.” He stayed watchful, and as soon as they pulled up in front of the mansion behind Clay, he said, “Come out on my side.”
She scrambled out through the passenger door and, once her feet hit the sidewalk, said, “I don’t know what spidey senses are, and I’m not moving from this spot until you tell me what’s happening.”
“As soon as we get inside, I’ll explain.”
Clay and Marcelle rushed toward the front door and motioned for Bastien and Kaitlyn to follow. “Hurry!”
Once inside, Clay locked the door. “The person in front of the saloon could be the good twin or the bad one. I don’t think the bad guy would show up here, but we should be vigilant.”
“Should we wait here or go upstairs?” Bastien asked.
“Let’s wait here for a minute or two.”
Thirty seconds later, one of the wall panels opened. Bastien took a defensive position in front of the other three, holding the Sig in a two-handed grip, ready to fire.
A giant of a man with barrels for arms, shoulder-length black hair, and wearing a kilt stepped into the foyer, moving with the deadly agility of a warrior. His ice-blue eyes bored into Bastien. “Lower your weapon.”
“No, sir. The gun stays where it is.” Bastien didn’t know what skills Clay had, but his sister had defensive training, and Kaitlyn could box. Based on the size of the warrior’s hands, none of that would matter. He could break all their necks before Bastien got off a shot.
Clay reached out to block Bastien. “It’s okay. Meet Erik Fraser, Elliott’s uncle. He won’t hurt us. At least, I don’t think so.”
“You are safe with me.”
Bastien eyed Clay suspiciously, and what he saw in the younger man’s eyes swayed him. He lowered his arm but kept the Sig where the warrior could see it.
“You built this house. My father told me about you and your brother,” Kaitlyn said, her head tilting curiously. “You were in love with Samantha, and your brother threatened to rape and torture Isabella.”
“That is true, but I did not build this house. I was the architect and interior designer, not the builder.”
“I heard you stole fixtures and furnishings from the Palace of Versailles?”
Erik shot her a hard look, and Bastien’s trigger finger twitched. He didn’t raise his weapon, but he stepped closer to Kaitlyn.
“I am not a thief, Kaitlyn.”
“I’m surprised you know my name.”
“I know those of you who are here and those who are not.”
“Do you always talk in riddles?” she asked.
Clay snorted. “Welcome to Erik’s world.”
Bastien watched the warrior and Clay, confused by the situation. The warrior didn’t scare Clay. Kaitlyn and Marcelle both gave Bastien quizzical looks, but he said nothing. He was still working out logistics, details, and battle plans—just in case this meet and greet went to shit.
“Let us go to the Reception Hall. I want to talk to you, and I need a glass of Sean’s whisky.”
Clay extended his arm. “After you.”
Erik started up the stairs. “Where is Vivica?”
“She’s Violet to us, and how should I know?” Clay said.
“You are her son.”
“That’s never seemed to matter to her.”
“You are wrong, Barclay. You are the child of her heart.”
“That’s bullshit, Erik, and you know it. She has no use for me. If anyone is her favorite, it’s Robert.”
“Robert is her biggest responsibility. You were the joy of her youth, and she has never recovered from the loss of your love.”
Clay laughed again. “We’re not talking about the same person. She’s the most distant woman I’ve ever met.”
Erik reached the Hall of Mirrors and stopped to take in the reflections of the crystal chandeliers. The hall was a visual illusion of infinite space and the mansion’s grandeur. They followed him into the Reception Hall, where he went to the sideboard to pour a drink.
“What would you like?” he asked the others.
Bastien holstered his weapon, no longer sensing danger but aware that it could change quickly. “I’ll tend bar.”