While Wiggins talked, Darci scanned the faces of those around her. P. T. had some good employees. Many of them had been there for years. There was an air of camaraderie among them, the sense that they were happy to be there, in spite of Wiggins.
Her gaze moved to Conner. He stood with his weight shifted to one leg and a thumb hooked into his pocket. The casual pose brought to mind a men’s cologne ad, even though he wasn’t dressed the part. He was probably the only man alive who could project magnetism dressed in a pair of greasy coveralls.
His eyes locked with hers, and his mouth curved up in a teasing grin. Heat crept into her cheeks. But Conner was probably used to being stared at. That dazzling smile had no doubt melted more than one female heart.
Her first impression had labeled him a charmer, maybe even a playboy. Used to having his own way. But beneath that smooth demeanor was an underlying seriousness, a thread of concern that ran just below the surface. Kyle’s sudden entrance into his life had likely knocked his world off its axis.
Wiggins dismissed the group, and she pushed herself to her feet. Another meeting over. Except this time, there was consolation for putting up with an hour of Wiggins—it was a three-day workweek. The mine would be closed Thursday and Friday for Thanksgiving. And, as always, she was going to spend her time off at her parents’ place. The forty-five minute drive from Cedar Key was too much on a daily basis, but on weekends and holidays, nothing would keep her from her friends, her family, her church and her girls’ Sunday school class.
After stepping inside, she made her way back to her office. It was almost lunchtime. But she wouldn’t be joining the other employees in the break room. She would be holed up with a sandwich and chips, putting that thirty minutes to good use. Conner had said to look at the April bank statement, but the morning had been too busy. And Wiggins had done too much hovering.
For the next hour, though, she would be safe. Her overbearing boss always spent his lunchtime behind closed doors and didn’t let anything short of a nuclear strike interrupt him.
Once inside her office, Darci walked to the closet to check her phone. With her mom watching Jayden, she tried to be always reachable. A number showed up on her call log, but it wasn’t her mom’s. She checked her voice mail and had no messages.
She looked at the number again. It was local, a 352 area code, but it wasn’t familiar. As she studied the screen, her brow furrowed in confusion. Her call to voice mail was on top, the mystery call underneath. Both had a red, right-facing arrow, indicating an outgoing call.
But that was impossible. She hadn’t made any calls. She checked the time. Nine fifty. She was at the copier then. Wiggins had said he needed copies of the October financial reports before the meeting. She’d given them to him last week, but he’d apparently misplaced them.
Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he needed to get her away from her desk long enough to make a call from her phone. Her stomach drew into a knot. With all the company phones, there was only one reason to use hers—to make it appear that she was the one who had made the call. But why?
She slid the phone back into her purse then retrieved her cooler and carried it to her desk. After taking her sandwich out of the wrapper, she set to work tracking down Conner’s lead. Thirty minutes later, a file lay open on her desk, a bill of sale inside. The April bank statement lay beside it, and her monitor displayed an equipment depreciation schedule.
She pursed her lips. What had Conner been talking about? There was an equipment purchase, just as he said. The backup was right in front of her—a bill of sale on a used 2006 Case 550H LT bulldozer. But nothing was out of order.
It had apparently been purchased from an individual, a Stanley Thomas, rather than a company. That was a little unusual, but not unheard-of. Both Thomas and Wiggins had signed the bill of sale. There was even a copy of the cashier’s check stapled to it.
The dozer had been added to the equipment list as well as the depreciation schedule. And it was insured. If there was anything shady about the deal, someone had taken a lot of care to dot their i’s and cross their t’s. The question would be whether said bulldozer was actually in use at the mine.
She jotted the description and serial number on a Post-it, along with Thomas’s name and phone number. Conner was the one who had sent her on this wild-goose chase. He could take the time to check out what she had. And he could call the guy with a mechanical question without raising suspicion.
What was Conner doing at P. T., anyway? And how did he know about the bulldozer purchase? It happened over six months ago. And that probably wasn’t all he knew. When she told him that he didn’t have a stake in whatever was going on, he in so many words told her he did. He was as much of a mystery man as the guy with the raspy voice.
She refiled the bank statement and the equipment folder, then returned to her desk to bring up her email. The most recent one was from Wiggins. There was no subject. She clicked on it, then scanned the single line. I’m watching everything you do. Let it go, or you’ll get hurt.
Dread trickled over her. Had he installed a camera? Her space was pretty bare-bones. One wall held a row of file cabinets. Two held paintings, and a window occupied a good portion of the back wall, a wide closet next to it. A live dieffenbachia sat in one corner. It was good sized, maybe three feet tall. Was it large enough to hide a camera? Apparently so. How else would Wiggins be watching her?
She rose from her desk, then sank back into her chair. First she would forward the email to her personal address. She would keep proof of everything, no matter how unimportant it seemed.
And this was important. Wiggins had threatened her. In writing. The guy with the raspy voice didn’t want her hurt. But she couldn’t count on it. Eventually, Wiggins’s patience was going to run out.
She clicked the right-facing arrow. But instead of opening a new compose window, the email disappeared.
What? She clicked on Deleted Mail. There it was, right on top. Before she could reopen to forward it, a check appeared in the box to the left, and the cursor jumped to Delete. A nanosecond later, it was gone.
She pushed herself away from her desk and put a hand to her mouth, still staring at the screen. No wonder Wiggins knew she had been looking for something. He’d been logged in to her computer. Everything she’d done, he’d observed from the privacy of his office. And he was threatening to hurt her if she didn’t stop.
But she couldn’t stop. Wiggins had seen to that the moment he put those locked files on her computer. She would just have to be more careful. There were things she could do, away from his watchful eyes, such as checking out the mysterious call that showed up on her phone. It was one more piece of information to give to Hunter, along with Wiggins’s social security number and date of birth that she’d looked up that morning.
And then there was Conner. He was more than just a mechanic. This afternoon, she would demand some answers.
When she walked to her car at the end of the day, several employees were driving in from the mine, Conner among them. She raised a hand, and he pulled into a parking space and exited his truck.
“I have something for you.” She held up the neon green Post-it, then snatched it back when he reached for it. “First, tell me who you are.”
He gave her a cheeky grin. “You know who I am. You write my paychecks.”
“I know your name and that you work for P. T. as a mechanic. But mechanics don’t have access to the company’s bank statements.” She crossed her arms. “How did you know about that equipment purchase? What are you, undercover FBI or something?”
Laughter spilled from his mouth. “Nothing as interesting as that.”
“So who are you?”
He released a long, slow breath. “We’re both looking for answers. What do you say we work together?”
She studied him. He apparently had information she needed. Or he was
connected to someone who did. How else could he have known about the bulldozer purchase? She hesitated a moment longer. Could she trust him? Something told her she could.
She finally gave him a quick nod. “Okay. Where do you want to meet?”
“You can come to my place.”
She raised her brows. “I don’t think so.”
“Hey, I’ve got Kyle, remember? And if I don’t get right home, I’m afraid I’m going to lose yet another babysitter.” He rested a hand on top of her car. “Bring Jayden, and I’ll even feed you. Pizza or Chinese. I don’t know which. I promised Kyle if he didn’t torture the new babysitter, I’d have pizza delivered. Otherwise it’s Moo Goo Gai Pan.” He grinned. “I’m not above bribery.”
She laughed. “You do know how to keep a kid in line. I’d go for either, but I’m guessing Kyle would choose the pizza.”
“Hands down. So what do you say?”
“I’ll pick up Jayden and head that way. He’s at home. My mom watches him at my place, gets him to his therapy appointments and everything.”
Longing flickered in his eyes, maybe even regret. “You’re lucky you have her.”
“I know. She’s awesome. I’m an only child, so Jayden is their only grandchild. The sun rises and sets on him.” She pulled a notepad and pen from her purse. “Where do you live?”
“East of Chiefland.” He took the items from her and jotted down the address. “I’ll give you my cell number, too, just in case.”
Darci nodded. “I’ll meet you there in forty-five minutes.”
His eyes dipped to her hand. “Are you going to make me wait for whatever’s on that Post-it?”
“I guess not.”
He took the small sheet and scanned what she’d written. “The 2006 Case. I just finished doing maintenance on it.”
“I checked all the supporting documentation. I won’t bore you with the details, but it’s all there.”
Conner seemed to deflate in front of her. That was apparently not the answer he’d hoped for. He shrugged. “I guess I won’t know for sure until I verify the serial number.”
She opened her car door and slid into the driver’s seat. “I’ll see you shortly.” She grinned up at him. “Pizza or Moo Goo Gai Pan.” If Kyle had misbehaved, Jayden wouldn’t be thrilled, either.
Darci backed from her parking space while Conner made his way toward his truck. As she covered the distance between the mine and the house she rented in Gulf Hammock, a sense of weightlessness swept over her. She was no longer handling this alone. That in itself brought a wonderful sense of relief. Besides, Conner apparently had access to information she didn’t have.
She glanced at the speedometer, then backed off the gas. She didn’t need a speeding ticket, no matter how anxious she was to find out what Conner knew. Or how excited she was to see him, because if she was being totally honest, she would have to admit that at least part of her eagerness was due to the thought of spending the evening with P. T.’s good-looking mechanic.
She mentally chided herself. She had her hands too full with Jayden to even think about sharing any part of her life with a man. The only things she and Conner would be sharing were resources. Once they each had what they were looking for, they would go their separate ways.
When she reached Gulf Hammock, she pressed the brake and made a right off of 19-98. A minute or so later, she flipped on her signal and slowed for a final turn. A vehicle some distance back slowed, too. Uneasiness slid through her. It was a dark SUV.
She completed her turn, then made frequent glances in her rearview mirror. The SUV didn’t turn behind her. But that wasn’t much consolation, because during the moment it passed through the space reflected in her rearview mirror, she was able to identify it—a gray Escalade. The uneasiness turned to dread, congealing into a cold lump in her gut. She may as well have led the driver to her house. With no garage, her car would be parked right out front. She should have been more careful. Instead, she’d been thinking about Conner, completely oblivious.
Finger by finger, she loosened her grip on the wheel. Maybe it wasn’t the same SUV. There were probably lots of people in Levy County who owned gray Escalades. Even if it was the same one, all the driver seemed to be doing was watching her. If he had wanted to hurt her, he would have made his move by now.
She turned into the driveway and stopped next to her mom’s Intrepid. The mental pep talk had done nothing to soothe the anxiety churning inside her. No matter how she looked at it, someone was stalking her.
When she stepped inside the house, her mom sat in the recliner with Jayden squeezed in next to her, The Velveteen Rabbit propped across their laps.
Her mom’s eyes met hers. “Hi, sweetheart. How was your day?”
She hesitated. Other than being threatened by her boss, finding out he was spying on her and being followed home? She shrugged and went with her pat answer. “It was good.” No need to worry her mother.
Jayden’s eyes finally lifted from the book. Shifting gears was always difficult for him, as if he was stuck and it was hard to pull himself loose. She crossed the room to scoop him up and spin him around. When she blew a raspberry against his cheek, he giggled.
By the time her mom left and she and Jayden headed to her car, the final remnants of dusk were giving way to night. She plugged Conner’s address into her GPS and backed from the driveway. Before she had gone very far, she began to doubt her decision to make the drive. The stretch of road between Gulf Hammock and Chiefland was lined with miles of nothing, lonely and dark.
As she approached State Road 24, she pushed her Big Daddy Weave CD into the player. That was where she always turned left to go to Cedar Key. Tonight she would go straight. According to the GPS, she would be at Conner’s in twelve minutes.
As always, traffic was sparse. Strains of “Overwhelmed” filled the car, making her feel less alone, and she sang along. Headlights approached from behind, gradually gaining on her. As they grew closer, her hands tightened on the wheel. Any moment the driver should signal to go around her. Highway 19-98 was a four-lane road. There was no reason for someone to tailgate her when he could easily move into the left lane. But the vehicle continued to close the gap, until the headlights were a single car length from her back bumper.
Panic spiraled through her. What was he doing? Was he going to ram her?
She eased off the gas and let her speed gradually drop from fifty-five to fifty, then forty-five. Her purse was in the passenger’s seat, her phone inside. Could she safely pull it from its pouch and dial 911?
Without taking her eyes from the road, she reached across the car and snagged her purse strap to pull it closer. Her eyes dipped to the speedometer. Forty.
Ahead in the distance, a set of lights moved toward her. Hope flickered. The driver probably wouldn’t pay attention to two vehicles across the grassy median. But if she signaled that something was wrong by flashing her lights, maybe whoever was in the car would turn around or at least call for help.
She slid her phone from the pouch and held it against the steering wheel. The car behind her suddenly shot into the left lane and crept up beside her, then matched her speed. She dropped her phone into her lap and clutched the wheel with both hands. What was he doing?
She glanced left. It was too dark to see the driver. Or even the make and model of the vehicle. But it wasn’t the SUV. It looked like an older car.
Then the space between them narrowed. He was moving over on her, trying to force her off the road. Frantic prayers circled through her mind. She jammed on the brakes and gripped the wheel so tightly that her hands hurt.
The other driver slowed also, then lunged right. Darci screamed as the crash of metal on metal reverberated through the car. Her right wheels dropped off the shoulder, and her car made an erratic path away from the highway, bouncing over a shallow ditch before coming to
rest six feet from a tall pine.
Her heart pounded, and she pressed a shaking hand to her chest. The other car was gone. It had sped away while she was wrestling hers to a stop. Jayden was crying, working up to a full, terrified wail. Her phone had flown to parts unknown, and Big Daddy Weave had been silenced.
Darci opened her door, and light flooded the car. When she got out and turned, the vehicle she’d seen coming toward her was circling back. Red and blue lights flashed on top. Relief surged through her. Thank You, Lord. Help was on the way.
She flipped the seat forward and released the latch on Jayden’s car seat. While she worked to free him from the restraints, he leaned hard against them, arms outstretched, wailing even louder. He wasn’t hurt, just shaken up. It could have been so much worse. If the ditch had been deeper, she might have rolled the car.
The man with the raspy voice had told Wiggins he didn’t want her hurt.
Apparently, someone wasn’t listening.
FOUR
Conner turned onto 92nd Place, trying to tamp down the excitement that had been building at the thought of spending the evening with Darci. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t even a cozy dinner with a friend. It was strictly business. She was coming because she was in trouble.
He glanced at the grocery bags in the seat beside him. Whether pizza or Chinese, they would need drinks. But the coconut-cream pie in the one bag was a special treat since Darci and her son would be joining them.
When he pulled into his driveway, a yellow Volkswagen Bug sat to the left. That was a good sign. His new babysitter had survived her first day of Kyle. With school out for the week, that “day” wasn’t just a couple hours after school. It was one long, agonizing nine-hour period. Maybe he had finally found the perfect sitter. Either that, or Kyle had her hog-tied somewhere inside.
Mistletoe Justice Page 5
