Disengaged (Terms of Engagement Book 3)

by Melissa R. L. Simonin

  “Hold on, give me one second,” the woman said. She was back almost immediately. “Is this Erik Davison, or Eric Chambers?”

  “Davison,” Erik replied.

  “Hi, Erik. This is Sheila, we met yesterday, when you were in the office. Have you learned anything new, about the problems you’ve had at your development?”

  “No,” Erik replied. He hoped she’d tell any other interested parties, the same thing. “We hit a dead-end. There’s no point investigating any further.”

  “Oh. Are you serious? There’s nothing, at all?” she asked, her voice both curious, and concerned.

  “I’m certain we’re completely through investigating,” Erik made sure to stress. “No actual damage was done, and security will be onsite as soon as it’s safe to get up the mountain. We won’t have any more problems, so what’s the point?”

  “I guess there isn’t one,” Sheila sounded a little surprised. “You’re willing to let this go? Just like that?”

  “Sure. Why not?” Erik replied. “We’ve got more important things to do. Pine Mountain is scheduled to open December 1st. That’s obviously not happening, but we will get back to work and finish our side of things as close to that date, as possible. So… does Conner have a minute?”

  “Oh, right. Hold on.”

  “Thank you,” Erik said. Several minutes later, Sheila was back on the line.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said apologetically. “Conner’s in the middle of a conference call right now, but he’ll find a chance to see you between calls, if you want to drop by. He’ll be in until ten.”

  “Alright. Thanks, Sheila,” Erik replied.

  “Shall I let him know to expect you?” Sheila asked, and Erik weighed that over in his mind.

  “Sure. Thanks,” he decided. Conner’s office wasn’t far from the bistro where Amber was having breakfast with her friends. Whenever she called, he’d be close by. It would be a relief to tell her Conner knew their investigation was over, and so did Sheila. He was confident that information would soon get passed on to Joe and Franklin, Conner’s righthand men. If one of them was Avenger, their worries of being seen as a threat would be over. If not…

  “Great. I’ll let him know,” Sheila replied.

  ROB crumpled his empty can, then tossed it in the recycle bin. The other guy, whose name he still didn’t know, did the same.

  “Since no one seems to have told you I was coming, I don’t guess you have any idea who I am,” Rob said, not that he had any intentions of divulging his identity. But, using his middle name should be safe enough. “I’m Alan.”

  “Stan,” the guy replied, and they shook hands.

  If Rob thought he could take the guy, he’d go for the gun right now. But if he tried and failed… Stan would be sure to follow Rob’s trail.

  That was not going to happen, he thought grimly. He’d rather be trapped here with the guy when the storm returned, than have him find Samantha. She could stretch the remainder of their foodstuffs another couple of days. In the meantime, the storm would cover Rob’s tracks. He’d spend that time building up his strength. It wasn’t ideal, but—

  “I’m ready to get out of here,” Stan said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

  “I’m not,” Rob swiftly declared. “Are you kidding? It’s freezing out there. Give the sun a chance to warm up a little, first. What do you have to eat around here? I’m starving.”

  Rob turned and headed toward the lodge’s restaurant. A moment later, to his relief, Stan fell into step beside him.

  “Okay, fine, but I don’t want to hang around any longer than we have to,” Stan informed him.

  “Neither do I,” Rob agreed wholeheartedly.

  The restaurant door’s lock was keyed, rather than electronic. Either Stan picked it, or the last one out forgot to lock up, because it opened easily in Rob’s hand.

  “It’s all in bulk, and nothing’s prepared,” Stan said, giving the window into the lobby, and the growing daylight, a look of impatience. “Look, you haven’t been here all week. You have no idea how fast this storm turns around, and comes back. If we’re getting out of here, we’ve got to go. Now.”

  “How much time do we have?” Rob questioned, as he rummaged through boxes. “Have you been tracking the weather?”

  “I was,” Stan said shortly. “Until my phone died, Tuesday morning.”

  “So you’ve been completely out of touch since then?” Rob asked.

  “Yes,” Stan replied.

  Good to know.

  “What’s the plan, anyway?” Rob inquired, as he pushed aside several boxes in order to reach those behind. “For the lodge, I mean. You said you got the job done.”

  “I’ll turn the gas back on to the boiler room, on our way out,” Stan replied.

  “You’ve been without hot water this whole time?” Rob questioned. He found the box he was looking for, and ripped it open.

  “No, just one of the boilers is shut down. You don’t need more than that.”

  “You’re not planning to do the same thing Jess and Randall did at the models, I hope? Set the gas leaking, then let the pilot light it up?” Rob gave him a dubious look.

  “Yeah. Why not?” Stan looked ready to take offense.

  “Are you kidding? It’s a repeat,” Rob said. He lifted a bottle of wine out of the box, and removed the foil.

  “So? It’s a good plan,” Stan replied, watching with distraction as Rob used the corkscrew on his pocketknife to open the bottle. He held it out, and Stan took it. He also looked impressed. “I had no idea this was here.”

  “Maybe you would’ve enjoyed your stay more, if you had,” Rob replied, as he took his time and selected another bottle.

  “No joke,” Stan agreed, as he sampled the contents. “What is this stuff? It must cost a fortune.”

  “What, in this upscale place? You better believe it,” Rob concurred. “Enjoy it now, while you’ve got the chance.”

  “How many bottles are there? I’m taking some of this with me,” Stan said, downing more of the one in his hand. “How close are you parked?”

  “A ways,” Rob said, struggling to insert the corkscrew in the bottle he held. The cork appeared to be made of concrete, no easier than he made it look.

  “It’s a good plan, though,” Stan declared, getting back on topic. “It’ll get the job done.”

  “What job?” Rob replied shortly. “You do the same thing here, that was done to model F, it’ll look like sabotage. Is that what you’re going for?”

  “No, it’ll look like negligence,” Stan disagreed, and drank some more. Rob was impressed. In spite of the soda he downed minutes ago, Stan was still pouring it in.

  “How do you figure?” Rob replied.

  “The same team’s probably doing plumbing here, as at the models. It’s the same contractor, anyway. The plumbing was done poor and not up to code, in either place.”

  “The inspections have been done. Here, anyway, as far along as it is,” Rob countered.

  “The developer won’t care. Davison Construction can wave inspection reports around all they want. All he’ll care about is the time and money lost.”

  “He’ll be more than ready to hire another contracting firm,” Rob said grimly.

  “Exactly,” Stan replied with satisfaction. “He’ll beg Stevens Construction to come in and pull the development out of the mess it’s in.”

  Rob’s stomach dropped.

  ERIK pulled into the lot, and found a space near Conner’s office. He switched off his SUV, then exited the vehicle. On his way to the door of Stevens Construction, he glanced through the window.

  In one corner, an artificial tree stood half-constructed, its remaining branches spread across the three chairs that comprised the main office’s seating area. Behind the desk, the door to Conner’s private office was closed. On the desk, was piled a snarl of Christmas lights. Sheila stood beside it, neatly coiling a recently freed strand. She set it aside, then got to work on a
nother. Erik opened the door, and went in.

  Sheila brushed back a strand of her brown hair, as she looked up.

  “Good morning,” she greeted him pleasantly, giving the phone on her desk a studious look. “Conner’s still in the middle of his call, but he should be done soon.”

  “That’s alright, I’ve got a few minutes,” Erik replied.

  “Then do you mind helping with this?” she asked ruefully, holding up a mass of tangled lights.

  “Sure. Why not,” Erik said. He picked up a wad of knotted wire that looked beyond all hope, and began searching for an end.

  “Conner’s been so worried ever since you dropped by,” Sheila confided.

  “Why is that?” Erik wondered.

  “Because of what happened to your development,” Sheila replied.

  “Well… nothing actually happened,” Erik made certain to point out. “No actual damage was done.”

  “Who knows what they might do next, though,” she shuddered.

  Erik shrugged.

  “Probably nothing. It’s impossible to get to Pine Mountain right now, and as soon as it is, we’ll have twenty-four hour security in place.”

  “You’re just letting this go?” Sheila seemed to have a hard time grasping that. Erik was determined to see that she did.

  “Yes. I’m letting this go, and so is my brother. We’ve both got more important things to devote our time to.”

  “You’re not concerned they’ll do this again? Maybe to someone else?” Sheila questioned. Erik frowned a little, as he considered that. He lay aside the coil of lights he untangled, and reached for another knotted strand.

  “I have no control over that. As I said, or at least I think I did, we ran into a dead end. There’s nothing left to investigate.”

  “Oh,” she replied, her eyebrows drawing together as she pondered that.

  From the open box on the chair on the other side of the desk, a loud whirring, rattling, banging noise, erupted.

  Erik shot the box a look, as he struggled to mask how startled he was. He edged over slightly, and gave the contents a glance.

  Inside was a rat, and its cage. Both were identical to those taken from Randall Jerome’s apartment in the middle of the night, while he and Amber hid in the closet, listening to Avenger replace the two bullets used to kill Amos Burns.

  “He’s kind of loud,” Sheila admitted, giving the box a glance, herself.

  “Yeah, I had a rat when I was a kid,” Erik said, failing to come up with anything better, as his mind raced.

  “They’re really smart. So I’ve been told,” Sheila replied.

  “They are. Whose is he?” Erik asked. If he knew that…

  “Remember Franklin? You met him, he was here Wednesday,” Sheila said, with a glance at the clock. “The rat belongs to him. He’s on his way to pick him up, right now.”

  AMBER added cream and sugar to her coffee, as she glanced around the small bistro where she sat having breakfast with three of her closest friends. Their laughter and chatter mixed with the clink of ceramic mugs, the scent of coffee and fresh pastries, and the rapid service on the part of the employees behind the long counter.

  She set the spoon aside and sipped her drink, as she glanced at the clock above the large chalkboard menu.

  “Wishing you were somewhere else?” her friend Meg, teased.

  “Or with someone else,” Rae chimed in. “I think we’re on the verge of being replaced.”

  Amber laughed, and turned her attention to the gooey cinnamon roll in front of her.

  “Feel honored that I didn’t cancel on you,” she replied, and her friends laughed.

  “So tell us more about this guy,” Meg insisted.

  “Do you have any pictures?” asked Abby.

  “Oh! I do,” Amber said eagerly, reaching for her phone. She opened her album, then held it so her friends could see.

  “Good grief, he’s cute!” Abby exclaimed, as she took the phone from Amber.

  “I know,” Amber beamed, and the other girls laughed again, as the phone was passed around. “He’s so sweet, too. And brave! And strong. I still can’t believe he likes me. I’d pinch myself, but if I’m asleep, I want to stay that way.”

  “I can see why,” said Meg, and the others agreed. “But if you’re asleep, so am I, and we’re having the same dream.”

  “You’re not dreaming,” Rae said with certainty.

  “I’d ask if he has any brothers, but I already know the answer to that,” Meg admitted.

  “Yes. One. My brother-in-law,” Amber answered anyway.

  “What is this?” Rae asked, as she scrolled to the previous image.

  “Oh. That,” Amber replied, as she took possession of the phone again. “It’s about the investigation we’re no longer involved in. We were going through all these pictures, looking for something that would tell us who’s behind the attempt to discredit Erik’s company. He has them on his phone, too. He took one end, I took the other, and we deleted as we went. Obviously we didn’t finish, there are a ton of pictures. It doesn’t really matter, anymore. It was a longshot, and we’re done investigating, anyway.”

  In spite of that, as she ate her cinnamon roll, drank her coffee, and chatted with her friends, Amber continued to scroll through the photos.

  ERIK hastily wound the string of lights he held. If it was still tangled in places, he wasn’t going to let that get in the way of making a speedy exodus. He started to inform Sheila that he’d catch up with Conner later, then hesitated.

  Maybe he shouldn’t be in such a hurry to leave, after all. He and Amber would both be safer if Franklin heard it straight from him. If Sheila didn’t pass on the news that he and Amber were no longer investigating, they could still be seen as a threat.

  He felt torn. If Amber was in his shoes, he’d be furious with her if she stayed. If she tried to justify it the way he was doing right now, he wouldn’t think her reasoning was sound at all.

  But, she wasn’t here. He was. And the door to the parking lot was opening.

  “Hi Franklin,” Sheila greeted the man, as he stepped inside.

  “Hey, Sheila. Thanks for this,” the man said gratefully, then he saw Erik. His eyebrows shot in the air.

  “Hello, Franklin,” Erik smiled pleasantly, and not at all as if he suspected the man of murder.

  “How’s it going,” Franklin replied. He looked both curious, and suspicious, as he took his time walking across the small room to reach the box containing the rat. “Had any new developments, lately?”

  “In the case of attempted sabotage? No, we hit a dead end. Our investigation is over,” Erik informed him.

  Franklin took a moment to ponder that, as Sheila placed a towel over the rat’s box, and fastened it in place with paper clips.

  “You’re satisfied just letting it go?” Franklin asked doubtfully.

  “Yes,” Erik replied. “No actual damage was done. There are no leads, and we’ve got no desire to waste our time looking for any.”

  “Okay…” Franklin said. He still seemed to find that hard to grasp. “You don’t figure whoever’s behind this will try again?”

  “No,” Erik said firmly. “I don’t. If he does, we’ll be forced to involve the authorities. I don’t expect we’ll have to.”

  He looked back at Franklin steadily, and the man shrugged a little.

  “Okay, then. I’d have a hard time letting it drop if somebody did that to me,” Franklin admitted. He picked up the box containing the rat, and headed for the door. “But if you’re okay with it, more power to you.”

  “I am. So is my brother. And my girlfriend,” Erik made sure to add.

  Franklin still didn’t look like he understood that. Erik didn’t care if he did or not. What he wanted, was for Franklin to believe it. He wasn’t sure how much more he could stress that point without it rousing suspicion.

  “Thanks, Sheila,” Franklin said, as he held the box with one arm, and reached for the knob.

  Erik brea
thed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him.

  It opened again, and Franklin stuck his head back inside.

  “Before I forget, my son wanted to say thank you, and that he promises to take good care of him,” Franklin added.

  “I’ll be sure and pass that along,” Sheila smiled, as Erik focused on a particularly stubborn tangle, rather than stare at the two of them.

  “He always wanted one, but the cages cost so much, he never saved up enough. He really does appreciate this,” Franklin added.

  “He’ll be glad to hear it,” Sheila replied. Franklin included Erik in his brief smile, then the door closed behind him once more.

  Erik looked from it, to Sheila, as she plugged a strand of lights into the desk’s surge protector. The bulbs lit, and she set those aside, then tried another set.

  Erik glanced at Conner’s door, as his stomach knotted. It couldn’t be him, Conner would never do this to him and Rob. And that could only mean…

  “It’s really generous of Joe to do that,” Erik commented.

  Sheila shot him a quizzical look.

  “Do what?”

  “To give the rat to Franklin’s son,” Erik replied, as the knot tightened.

  “Oh. Joe isn’t the one who gave it to him,” Sheila replied.

  AMBER’S eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed with excitement, as she stared at the image on her cellphone.

  “What?” Abby asked, and all three girls looked at her curiously.

  “Nothing, or—maybe everything!” Amber exclaimed, her fingers racing across the screen.

  ROB pulled the cork on the second bottle of wine, and offered it to Stan. The man tossed his own empty bottle aside, and took it.

  Rob was impressed. The guy might pop before he could get him drunk enough to overpower.

  “Stevens Construction,” Rob said, shaking his head a little. “You know, I never saw Conner being involved in something like this.”

  Stan grimaced, then laughed shortly.

  “Are you kidding? If he had any idea, he’d put a stop to it. Conner’s way too good to do what’s got to be done.”

  Rob was glad to hear that, at least.

  “You seem to know more about this than I do,” Rob admitted.