Chapter Four
About halfway up the mountain, the gravel road forked off in two directions. As Sierra turned left, she could feel Beau looking at her in surprise.
“Before you tell me your house is in the other direction, I’m not lost, okay? I want to take you to my place first, show you what I’ve put together so far to help us get started.”
“Your place.”
“My rental.”
“Did you know I lived on this same mountain when you rented it?”
“Does it matter?”
He sighed heavily. “I guess not. How long have you been here in town?”
“Since mid-May.”
“You’ve been here two months? I haven’t seen you on these roads or in town.”
“That’s because I didn’t want you to. I’ve followed you a few times. Okay, more than a few.”
“I don’t think so. I’d have noticed if the same car was tailing me repeatedly.”
“Which is why I trade out my rental car every week or so.” She stopped at another fork in the road, checked for oncoming traffic—which was exceedingly rare on these little mountain roads—and turned left again.
“There’s no way this is a rental car,” he said. “No offense, but it’s seen better days. Car rental agencies only rent out new or nearly new vehicles.”
“You’re right. I stole this one.”
She could practically feel his stare burning a hole in the side of her head. When she glanced at him, he narrowed his eyes.
“Wherever you stole it from, we’re taking it back. Right now.”
She started laughing. “Calm down, Chief. I was kidding. It really is a rental. Check the glove box.”
He popped it open and pulled out the paperwork.
She turned right and accelerated up the steep driveway, pulling into a carport at the top beside her chateau.
Beau shoved the papers back into the glovebox. “Rent-a-Junker? I’ve never heard of a company like that. Who would want to rent a beat-up old car?”
“People who want to blend in. Like me. Besides, it’s only a junker on the outside. The engine purrs like a kitten.” She shut it off and popped open her door. “Welcome to my little mountain getaway.”
He got out and stood beside her. “Remind me later to talk to you about how to blend in. Because this mansion…isn’t it.”
She cocked her head, studying the two-story stone and log facade. “I agree it’s bigger than your place—”
“You could put four of my homes inside that. Maybe more.”
“I wanted to be comfortable. Besides, you can’t see it from the road. It’s completely private and hidden. I’ll bet not a single person in town even realizes anyone’s living up here.”
He gave her a sideways look as they started across the gravel toward the front door. “You haven’t spent much time in small towns, have you?”
“No. Why?”
“I guarantee people know you’re here. You’re probably the talk of the town and don’t even realize it.”
She frowned at him as she stopped at the door. “If that was true, you’d have known I was here. When I showed up at your home, you were definitely surprised.”
“Only because I’ve been avoiding town since before you arrived. Otherwise I’d have been plugged into the local gossip and would know all about the pretty Spanish lady renting the old Haversham place. It’s been vacant a long time. No one can afford the rent except, apparently, you.”
She punched a code into the electronic keypad, and the lock clicked. “We’re not going to get along at all if you refer to me as Spanish. I came from Cuba, not Spain.”
“But you speak Spanish.”
She put her hands on her hips, tossing her hair over her shoulders. “It’s not at all the same.”
“Noted. My apologies.”
She wasn’t sure if he was teasing or not. “I’ll give you a tour of the place later. Right now I want to show you the office.” She led him down the marble steps into the soaring two-story family room to the far side where a set of double doors stood open.
Excited to show him what she’d done, she headed inside and stopped in the middle of the room, turning around to see his reaction.
“What the—” He let out a low whistle. “This setup rivals a NASA control room. What is all of this?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re completely exaggerating.
” She led the way around the room, showing him the setup she’d put together.
“It’s just a handful of computers daisy-chained together on one server.
Well, and a backup server of course. You can’t be too careful.
Most of what you see on all of these tables are monitors, three per computer.
It’s not all that sophisticated. But it was the best I could do in a hokey little town like this.
I had to make half a dozen trips to Chattanooga to get the equipment.
Can you believe this place didn’t have even one computer in it when I rented it?
Ridiculous. How do you people survive in such low-tech conditions? ”
His silence had her looking at him to see if something was wrong. He was staring at her from a few feet away, shaking his head.
“What?” she asked.
“You brought in all of this equipment?”
“Um, yeah. How else would I get it here?”
“And you connected it together, that daisy-chain thing you mentioned?”
“Again, yes. Why?”
“I’m not sure what I expected of a mobster’s daughter, but this wasn’t it. What are you, some kind of computer genius?”
“No one’s ever called me a genius, so the answer is no. But I get by. I like technology and the advantages it provides. And I’m fortunate enough to be able to afford it, so why not utilize it?”
“Why not? Right. Aside from being beautiful and a technology guru, what else do I need to know about you?”
She crossed her arms, struggling to ignore the frisson of pleasure from his compliment.
“Probably that I hate labels. Stop calling my father a mobster. Does he circumvent laws that make doing business far too difficult? Maybe. But he’s not a drug dealer or a human trafficker.
He doesn’t go around shooting people or bribing officials.
He’s a businessman. He pays his taxes, gives millions to charities and does tremendous good in his community to take care of those in need. ”
He stared at her as if he thought she’d lost her mind. “Do you honestly believe all that?”
“The FBI’s been after him for years, hounding him, raiding my father’s homes, all in the name of justice.
And what do they have to show for it? A big fat zero.
He’s never been arrested, not once. Don’t you think if he was as horrible as they believe him to be that they’d have been able to make some charges stick at some point? It’s not for lack of trying.”
“Remind me to share the files I’ve seen about your father someday, if I’m ever able to access those files again.”
She rolled her eyes. “All lies I’m sure, made up by the FBI.”
“If your father is so wonderful, then why not ask him for help finding out what may or may not have actually happened to your brother?”
“I need someone cool-headed to help me, not my father.”
“The law-abiding, misunderstood dad? That one?”
She stomped her foot in frustration and railed at him in a flood of Spanish.
When she stopped to catch her breath, he grinned. “You spoke too fast for me to catch all of that, but I’m pretty sure you called me a host of nasty names and questioned my legitimacy.”
“At least you caught the important parts.” She whirled around to head into the kitchen for a cold bottle of water when he suddenly grabbed her hand, stopping her.
“What?” she demanded, ready to rant at him again, this time in English to make sure he understood every insult.
“Those monitors over there. Is that a live shot from security cameras out front?”
“Yes, they’re—wait, who is that?”
“Good question.” He watched the white pickup that they’d seen earlier stop halfway up the driveway, as if the driver was debating his next move.
“We should have gone to my house first to get one of my pistols. I had to turn in my police firearm.”
“No worries.” She crossed to one of the desks in the enormous room and pulled open the middle drawer. “Is a .357 Magnum okay? I have others.”
He took it and checked the loading. “Was this purchased legally?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers.”
He shook his head. “Wait here. Lock the door behind me.”
He jogged across the family room with her hurrying to catch up. Then he was out the door and disappeared behind some bushes.