by Lori Foster
“But I—”
“You did the right thing. Newman is my problem, not yours.”
Right behind him, Brodie said, “And your problems are ours.”
He jerked around...and there they were, every fucking one of them, listening in, intruding.
Even Charlotte.
“Gotta go, Lang. Take care of yourself.” Fingers of alarm squeezed his windpipe. He disconnected the call, then said, “This doesn’t concern any of you.”
Jack shook his head. “Not how it works with family.”
Agreeing, Brodie said, “So how about you tell us what we’re dealing with.”
Instead of backing up, Mitch took a step forward. “Sorry, no. Not this time.” Briefly, he turned to Charlotte. All her earlier sass was now subdued beneath fear. He closed his eyes, drew one breath, and said again, “Sorry,” before turning and heading for his car. Leaving Charlotte like that, without explanations, was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But still he did—for her.
Brute followed.
No one else did.
* * *
CHARLOTTE WAS WORRIED.
Last night, after that awkward apology and refusal to explain, Mitch had left and no one had heard from him since. Morning had come and gone. Lunch was long over.
Where was he?
Brodie and Jack wanted to give him time. She and Ros were less convinced.
It ate her up, thinking of Mitch alone. Of him feeling alone. He wasn’t, not anymore.
Didn’t he know that?
In her heart, she knew the answer. It was all too new for him to accept it yet. A week wasn’t long enough.
Would he be different after a month? A year?
Or had his life fashioned him to where he couldn’t fully trust? From what little she knew, she couldn’t blame him.
Even before her parents died, she’d had love, affection and attention. The Crews family hadn’t missed a single step in doing all they could to keep her feeling loved. They were so wonderful, and Mitch deserved them.
But what if he left?
Her heart and head pounded in sync. He’d only just met them, only just started to relax...and now this.
From what they’d overheard last night, his mother’s boyfriend was looking for him.
Newman is my problem.
Charlotte thought Newman might be capable of anything—and that scared her. Mitch needed backup, he needed support...and they didn’t even know where he was.
Not within the town proper; she’d gone into town twice today on trumped-up excuses, first to get supplies, then later to deliver a contract that could have been mailed.
She’d looked for his distinctive car, but hadn’t seen it anywhere. With less subtlety than she would have liked, she’d asked around—but no one had seen anyone with his description.
Had he already left?
Would she never see him again?
As Brodie passed the office, he glanced at her, did a double take, and with concern pinching his brows, stepped in to squeeze her shoulder. “I asked around. No one fitting his description at the hotel.”
She didn’t tell him that she’d done the same. “There’s really nowhere else, is there?” Not exactly a tourist destination, one hotel was all Red Oak had ever needed.
“Don’t look so glum. He’ll be back.”
If only confidence was contagious. “How can you be so sure?”
With a fleeting grin, he said, “You. He’ll be back for you, honey.”
“Me?” Surprise nearly toppled her out of her chair. “How do I factor in?”
“You’re naive, but not dumb.”
Her incredulous laugh sounded a little too high. And maybe a wee bit hopeful? “He came here to meet his family.”
“Yup. But then he also met you.” He brushed a fingertip over the end of her nose. “Before meeting Mary, I might not have understood. Now? Trust me. He’ll be back.”
A mix of emotions made her wince. “And if he doesn’t?”
“Jack and I will find him. I’m willing to give him two days, so relax, okay?” With a nod at the desk, he said, “The phone is blinking.”
Oh, shoot.
In a rush she put one caller on Hold and spoke with another. The afternoon got even busier, and that helped to distract her right up until the end of the day.
Then her thoughts crashed and burned again.
Damn it, how dare Mitch show up, reel them in, then just bail over one little stupid phone call? She preferred anger over melancholy, so she dove in with that thought, fueling the flames.
How dare he flirt with her as if interested? How dare he make her interested?
And seriously, why did she care so much? Hadn’t she known for years now that she didn’t want anyone like Brodie and Jack? Yes, she had.
Mitch, being their half brother, would naturally share some similarities beyond the physical. Like his love of animals.
Given this new stunt, just disappearing on them, she knew he was stubborn and too independent as well.
Annoyed at herself, Charlotte shut down the PC, stacked the last bit of paperwork and pushed away from her desk.
By then, everyone else had already left the office. Brodie was gone overnight on a delivery and Jack wouldn’t be back until late. Ros had a hair appointment. Time to lock up and stop brooding over a man who’d apparently put her—and this family—from his mind.
With one last sweep of the office building to ensure she’d turned off the coffee, rinsed out the pot and turned out the lights, she headed to the front and grabbed her purse. Stepping out of the front room, she locked the door for the interior office, turned to go out the main door—and found three men looking in at her.
Strangers showing up at the end of business might not be unthinkable in a city, or even in town, but here? Mustang Transport was located up a hill from the main road, situated on wooded acreage that suddenly seemed far too isolated.
Alarm crawled up her spine and left her trembling.
Before she even had time to plan it out, Charlotte smiled and held up a finger in the universal sign for “just a moment,” then turned and unlocked the interior door. Her hands shook. She heard the main door open behind her just as she got the interior door open and hurriedly slipped inside, closing it fast and locking it again.
Alone in the dark, she backed up until her backside bumped the desk. Breath quickening and heart rapping against her breastbone, she wondered what to do now.
Knuckles rapped sharply against the door. “Hey, you okay in there?”
At the same time, a shadow moved past the window and she just knew someone was trying to look in.
Thankful that she’d turned out the lights, she withdrew her phone and darted into a corner, completely out of sight. She already felt foolish enough without anyone peeking in through the blinds.
“Little lady?” Voice mellow and calm, someone suggested, “Why don’t you open up?”
That he sounded pleasant only made it more threatening. She felt like a coward and didn’t care as she called the police station.
The second someone answered, she whispered, “This is Charlotte Parrish at Mustang Transport. I was just locking up when three men came in. They’re knocking on my inner office door. Strangers. I...I don’t feel right about them being here.”
“Charlotte,” said a serious but calm male voice. “This is Grant Colvin.”
Oh, thank God. Grant was a seasoned cop—a good one—and a friend of the family. Always reasonable and reliable, and kind too. “Grant, I’m sorry to bother you but—”
“Have they threatened you?”
She hated to admit it, but... “No.” It wasn’t quite seven thirty. The sun wouldn’t set for a while yet. It would literally take her two minutes to drive down to the main street—if she was in her car. And yet..
. “Do you think you could send someone by?”
“I’m on my way.” She heard him moving, the sound of keys jangling. “Did you ask them to leave?”
She frowned, then covered the phone to say loudly, “We’re closed. Come back tomorrow morning.” When Brodie or Jack are here.
The doorknob rattled violently.
Or maybe that was just her jangled nerves.
“Open up, girl. I only want to talk to you, maybe ask you a few questions.”
She managed a breath and said into the phone, “I just did and they’re not budging.”
“Sit tight,” he said. “I’ll be there before you know it.”
“Quietly, okay? If you cause a scene and they’re just here for business...” I’ll really feel like a fool.
“It’ll be like a social call,” Grant promised.
The call disconnected.
Leaning back against the wall, her arms hugged around herself, Charlotte tried to calculate how long it would take Grant to get from the station to the office.
And how easy it’d be for someone to kick in that door.
CHAPTER NINE
AS THE COP STOOD, Mitch did too. Two seconds into that call, his heart had lodged in his throat. “You said Charlotte.”
Giving him the side-eye, Officer Colvin confirmed, “I did.”
It couldn’t be, yet how many women with her name would be in a town this size? “Charlotte Parrish, who works with Brodie and Jack Crews?”
“The same.”
Frustration mounting, Mitch watched in disbelief and mounting terror as the enigmatic cop headed out. What the hell?
In two long strides, he caught up with Colvin. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure that’s your business.” Pausing at a desk, Colvin spoke quietly to a younger man. “Charlotte has a few guests making her uncomfortable. I’m going to run up there and take a look. I shouldn’t be long.”
“Got it.” The guy didn’t bother to look up from a computer where he typed away on a keyboard.
“What guests?” Mitch demanded, striding alongside the cop as he headed outside. So far, Officer Colvin had been politely detached as Mitch tried to explain the amount of trouble that came with Newman and his gang. Unfortunately, no, he didn’t know for a fact that Newman was in town yet, or where to find him if he was, or for sure when he’d arrive, or what he planned, or anything else.
But he had to warn the law, right? It was the only way to protect...his family? No, he couldn’t think in those terms just yet.
In coming here, he’d also fessed up to being an ex-con himself—and although Colvin hadn’t been as blasé about it as the Crews family, the veteran cop didn’t seem overly bothered by it either.
“Thanks for stopping in with the info.” Colvin opened his black-and-white and got in. “I’ll keep an eye out.” He closed the door and started the engine.
“Damn it!” In the seconds it took Mitch to jog over to his own car, Colvin had already pulled out and he had to catch up without speeding past a stop sign.
As he drove, he gave himself a pep talk. Charlotte had customers bother her all the time, but that didn’t mean it was Newman. It didn’t mean she was in trouble.
Where the hell were Brodie and Jack?
If Newman touches her... No, probably not him, Mitch reminded himself. He hadn’t yet seen Newman, but even if he was in town, he wouldn’t know Mitch was connected to the Crews family. There’d be no reason to be at Mustang Transport, hassling Charlotte.
He stayed right behind Officer Colvin, his hands gripping the wheel too tightly, until they both pulled into the empty yard.
Mitch was out of his car before Colvin had turned off his engine. Urgency pushing him, he sprinted up to the front door, pulled—and it opened.
Shadows and silence filled the interior.
Held in the grip of dread, he called, “Charlotte?”
It seemed he felt the pause, the suspension of time and space, and then, from the interior office, she squeaked, “Mitch?”
Relief took the strength from his legs. “Yeah.” He tried the handle but she had it locked. “Shit. Are you all right?”
The door opened and she peeked out. Seeing him, she jerked it wider and demanded, “Where the hell have you been?”
Okay...yeah, wasn’t expecting that.
Officer Colvin cleared his throat.
Wow, he’d forgotten all about him. Mitch glanced his way and found him lounging in the entry, a look of acute interest on his face.
Mitch frowned—and Charlotte rudely pushed past him.
“Grant, thank you for coming so quickly.”
“Part of the job,” Colvin said. “Everything okay?”
“I think they finally left.” She leaned out the door to look around, but Mitch already knew the lot was empty. “There were three of them, and someone kept jostling the doorknob until I stated that the cops were on the way. I could hear them talking and laughing, but I couldn’t understand what was said. Then it got quiet. I wasn’t sure if they’d left, so I didn’t open the door.”
“You did the right thing.” Colvin followed her outside.
Mitch trailed them both, his irritation ramping up.
Lifting a hand to shield her eyes, Charlotte searched the area. “It’s weird, right? I mean, that they’d come here, hang around and rattle doors until I said I’d called the cops?”
“Weird enough that I think you need to give me a description of them.”
Charlotte bit her lip. “I had only a brief glance.”
Rather than interfere, and possibly draw her ire again, Mitch stood off to the side listening. Charlotte explained how she’d put them off and very smartly locked herself inside.
Renewed rage began to churn, because in his gut, hell, in his bones and heart and the blood pumping through his veins, he knew it was Newman.
Even before she gave the description of early fifties, brown hair pulled into a ponytail and a receding hairline, he knew.
Squeezing the words out through locked teeth wasn’t easy. “That’s him.” His jaw flexed as he struggled to keep his anger contained. “It’s Newman Bates and it’s a serious problem that he was here.”
Charlotte stiffened but didn’t look at him.
He didn’t look at her either. If he did, he’d grab her close, hold her tight to assure himself she wasn’t hurt, and that’d blow his edge. Right now he needed to think, and Charlotte with her soft smiles and gentle nature made that damn near impossible.
Quirking his brow, Colvin glanced back and forth between them. “I’ll ask around, check the hotel and such. There aren’t many places to stay near here—”
“We know,” Charlotte said, her tone almost sugary, “because we looked for Mitch and couldn’t find him.”
“A day,” he said, spreading his arms in emphasis. “It was a single damn day because I had shit to take care of.”
Her little nose went up and she turned away. “Will you let me know what you find out, Grant?”
Amusement had Colvin’s mouth twitching, but his tone was all business when he said, “Of course.” He patted her hand. “Until then, you shouldn’t be here alone. And be damn sure you tell Brodie and Jack what happened. Got it?”
For him, she had a beautiful smile. “Of course I will.”
Mitch pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming on in tandem with the rage. Could he find Newman first? Doubtful.
This was one of Newman’s favorite games. Striking from the shadows, causing worry and then terror and when his prey grew frazzled, then he would make his move.
But what to do now? He’d just met these people, and he’d brought the worst kind of trouble literally to their door.
Colvin turned. “You two okay here?”
Not about to speak for Charlotte, Mitch
folded his arms and scowled.
She patted the cop’s arm. “We’re fine, no worries. I’m sure Mitch will take off—again.”
Damn it, did she have to keep throwing barbs at him?
How much of that shit did she think he’d take?
But of course he knew. He’d take it all, because no way in hell was he leaving her alone, not until he knew she was home, safe and sound.
Well hell.
* * *
WELL NOW, THAT had been worth the trip. He could still see the wariness in her eyes as she scuttled her sexy little ass into that office and locked the door. Smart girl.
What would he have done? No telling now, though his intent had only been to talk to her, to see if Mitch told her where he might be staying.
“She damn near fainted,” Ritchie cackled, laughing so hard he choked himself.
Grinning in agreement, Newman soaked up the gleeful satisfaction over little Miss Charlotte’s fear.
Pulling up to the hotel, Lee said, “It’s doubtful Mitch was fucking her.”
“I know. Sweet little girls aren’t really his speed.”
Finding Bernie had been a piece of cake. Dude spent all his free time in the bar and everyone knew him. Once Newman had explained who he was and that Mitch owed him money, they became allies in animosity—or so Bernie thought. Dumb-ass had blabbed about Mitch as fast as he could—and in the process, told them about Charlotte.
“Hadn’t expected to find her all alone like that,” Newman mused, wishing he could have gotten his hands on her. His plan had been to play the role of a doting relative looking to find Mitch.
One look at them though, and she’d bolted. At the time he hadn’t realized that was her intent. He thought she’d already locked the door and was going back for the keys.
Instead, she’d locked herself into a dark room. Terrified? Probably.
He started chuckling with the memory and that got Ritchie going again.
Lee, always a stone-faced bastard, turned off the car. “What now?”
Wiping his eyes and still grinning, Newman said philosophically, “We keep looking.” Today’s activity had at least broken up the monotony and offered a little amusement.
