“Yeah, I’m kind of surprised anybody else got brought in. The more hands to fill, the more likely someone is to get greedy, and threaten to blab. You want to keep it in the family,” Stan said. His speech was thickening, and his eyes were unnaturally bright.
“How many are involved?” Rob dared ask.
Stan considered that more than once, as he counted to himself.
“There’s five of us,” Stan finally decided. “Plus you’s, six.”
Amos Burns, Jess Stilton, Randall Jerome, Stan, and… not Conner, but someone working for him.
“It’s possible the developer will decide to go with a contracting firm other than Stevens,” Rob pointed out.
Stan waved away that idea.
“No. No way. Not unless he wants to wait for some place out of state to do a proposal.”
“That could take a while,” Rob concurred, and Stan nodded.
“He’ll stick with the proposals he’s got. He’ll go with reputation. Besides, every other bidder moved on to something else. Stevens will get it.”
“Then Burns will get brought in as a foreman, along with his team,” Rob prodded him. “But how will anyone benefit any more than they would on any other job?”
“Are you kidding? You really are behind. Sheila’s in charge of accounting, payroll, and accounts payable. She’s got it covered.”
ERIK picked up the string of lights he just untangled, and began untangling them all over again, as he struggled to come up with a solution that didn’t involve Conner picking up the rat from Randall Jerome’s apartment, and bringing it to the office.
It couldn’t be Conner. He couldn’t accept that.
So who was it?
“I guess it’s good the rat’s gone, anyway. Conner probably wouldn’t be crazy about keeping one in the office,” Erik said.
“Probably not,” Sheila replied.
And that, told him absolutely nothing.
“How did it get here, anyway?” Erik got to the point.
Sheila’s eyebrows knit slightly.
“Why do you ask?”
“I can’t believe Conner brought it in,” Erik replied.
“He didn’t,” Sheila confirmed, frowning a little. The look in her eyes was speculative, and a little intense. “Why does it matter?”
“My nephew might want a rat. Someday. I was hoping for some advice on where to get one,” Erik replied, then decided that was a dumb thing to say, considering how easy rats were to come by. He really did not like the look in her eyes now, or that he had her undivided attention. She was no longer testing light strings. He glanced at his watch, then edged toward the exit. “Is Conner still on the line? I may have to come back another time. Be sure and tell him what I said about the dead end, and dropping the investigation.”
“There’s no need to wait,” Sheila said, still with that intense, searching look in her eyes. “You can go right in.”
Erik no longer had any desire to do that. At all.
AMBER’S friends watched in concern, as she gasped and slapped her hand to her mouth, then rapidly made a selection on her phone and held it to her ear.
“What’s going on?” Rae asked.
“Erik’s not answering,” she said tightly. “I know who Avenger is, and Erik’s waiting for me to call, and he’s not answering, and I have got such a bad feeling about this! He has no idea—I need a ride, now!”
“Then—let’s go,” Meg replied, as Amber leaped to her feet, and all three followed right behind.
ERIK’S cellphone rang. It was the ringtone Amber set for herself, but he glanced at the screen anyway.
“I’ll have to catch up with Conner some other time. That’s my girlfriend calling, she’s ready for me to pick her up, so…”
The sinister slide and the click that followed, chilled Erik’s blood. He didn’t have to see the gun in Sheila’s hand, to know it was there.
“Drop the phone and get away from the door,” Sheila snapped, as she rounded the desk threateningly. She was too close to miss, in spite of the distance that prevented her from being disarmed. “Why do you care where the rat came from?”
“I really don’t,” Erik swiftly replied. He chose not to acknowledge the gun she aimed at his chest.
“No. I think you do,” she said, setting her lips in a thin line.
“I really do not,” he insisted evenly. “All I’m concerned with, is picking up my girlfriend. She’s waiting for me.”
Sheila snorted.
“The rat belonged to one of my cousins.”
Erik managed a look of disinterest, as he casually took a half-step back.
“STOP!” Sheila shouted, locking her elbows as she lined up the gun’s sights.
Erik stopped.
“Both of my cousins died recently, trapped inside an SUV the first night of the storm,” she said accusingly. She appeared to be waiting for an answer to something.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Erik responded cautiously.
Tears filled Sheila’s eyes, and she sniffed them back.
“None of this was supposed to happen,” she said mournfully.
“I’m sure it wasn’t,” Erik replied carefully.
“It should’ve been easy. I know what a mess it makes when orders are late, and don’t come at all. How did that not put you behind?” Sheila wondered, but she didn’t wait for a response. “I never should’ve had to get Randall and Jess involved. And then they brought in Burns, and—nothing went right. And now, we don’t even need the contract.”
The door to the parking lot opened, startling them both, and Conner stepped inside.
“Erik,” Conner said, sounding just as surprised as he looked. He followed Erik’s gaze to Sheila, whose expression was now one of dismay, and the gun in her hand. He stared in shock. “What… in the world is going on here?”
“Conner…” Sheila said beseechingly.
“What is going on?” Conner demanded, his voice rising slightly, as he looked from her to Erik, and back again. “Sheila, put the gun down!”
“I can’t,” she declared desperately.
ROB prepared to open a third bottle of wine, but Stan waved away the offer.
“That’s enough,” he said, his words slurring a little. “Come on. Let’s get moving.”
Stan lumbered to his feet, and Rob followed suit.
“What are you in such a hurry for?” Rob asked.
“Are you kidding? I want out of here,” Stan replied, looking at him like he was a little crazy. “You want to stay, fine. But I’m going.”
Stan turned, and headed for the door to the corridor. Underneath his shirt, the bulge at the small of his back was obvious. How to get the gun away from him, wasn’t.
“You have no idea which way to go,” Rob argued.
“Big deal. I’ll follow your trail,” Stan replied, and Rob felt a chill. Stan pointed to the right. “The boiler room’s this way.”
Rob nodded, as his heart pounded with adrenaline and anxiety. Ready or not, he had to stop Stan from following his trail back to Samantha. He couldn’t do this on his own, and he knew it.
He prayed for help, as they walked down the hall, to the door labeled employees only. Stan pushed it open, and Rob followed him in.
Several large cylinder-shaped gas boilers lined one wall, each connected to walls and ceiling by a network of pipes. Stan headed straight to the first one, and picked up the wrench that rested against it.
“Wait,” Rob said sharply. “You’re taking a big chance, turning that on before we’re ready to head out.”
“I am ready,” Stan retorted. “If you’re not, better get that way.”
“You’re not wearing a coat,” Rob pointed out.
Stan looked down, and surprise slowly filled his eyes. He laughed.
“I’m not. Guess I better go find it,” he said, and laughed again. Either Stan wasn’t very bright, or he was drunk.
“Yeah, that’d be smart. But look, we can do better than this set-up,” Rob de
clared, with a dismissive wave toward the first tank’s pipe fittings.
“Like what?” Stan asked impatiently.
“Gas is going to rise. Have you seen the lobby, and that ceiling? There’ll be someone in here to turn it off, long before it gets ignited by a pilot.”
“The door stays shut, and this ceiling’s not near as high,” Stan pointed out. Apparently he wasn’t drunk enough to be that easily influenced. “It’ll catch fire, for sure.”
“Alright, maybe. And what happens then?” Rob looked up, and Stan followed his gaze.
The sprinklers stationed on the ceiling would be no use in thwarting an explosion, but maybe Stan was drunk enough to forget that.
He stared for several seconds, then scowled.
“Great,” Stan frowned. “Then what’s your plan?”
“Make it electrical,” Rob said.
“I don’t know how to do that,” Stan frowned.
“I do,” Rob replied, and motioned toward the door. “After you.”
ERIK watched Sheila lower the gun slightly, as she focused her attention on Conner. In spite of her distraction, if he went for the gun, she’d recover and shoot before he could get to it.
“Yes,” Conner said sharply. “You can put the gun down! Sheila, what is going on?”
Her shoulders slumped, and she gave him a pleading look.
“All I wanted was to help you. No one was supposed to get hurt.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Put the gun down, and we’ll talk about it,” Conner said as calmly as he could.
“No! Because he knows too much!” Sheila declared, taking aim at Erik once more.
“Only because you told me,” Erik replied.
“Told you what?” Conner asked.
“Stop talking!” Sheila demanded, her hands shaking.
“I didn’t know any of this until you told me,” Erik stressed slowly.
“So? What difference does that make?” Sheila snapped.
“I just want to make very sure we’re clear on that,” Erik said calmly. It might make no difference for him, but it could keep her from going after Amber. “The only reason I came, is because I wanted to talk to Conner, and tell him we hit a dead end and are no longer investigating. You said he was here, on a conference call.”
“Well, I had to get you here somehow,” she defended herself.
“Why?” Conner demanded.
“Because I didn’t believe he’d really let it go. How could he? Then he got here, and I started to believe him, and then… he started asking about Randall’s rat!” she glared.
Conner closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead.
“Alright. That’s no reason to point a gun at him,” he asserted. “Erik is my friend, and I don’t want him getting hurt.”
Desperation filled Sheila’s eyes.
“I don’t want to get hurt, either! I don’t have a choice anymore!”
“Yes. You do,” Erik said firmly. “You always have. Don’t buy into that lie. As long as you live and breathe, you have a choice.”
“Is this about the attempt to sabotage Pine Mountain?” Conner asked. “Because if that’s what this is about, then you heard Erik. He’s letting all of that go.”
“I have more important things to devote my time to,” Erik added.
“What, I’m supposed to trust you to keep quiet?” Sheila laughed shortly.
“Erik pointed out yesterday, that no actual damage was done,” Conner reminded her. “Believe me, this is not worth being charged with murder!”
“He knows too much, and I will be, if I let him go! He knows I killed Amos Burns!” she exclaimed desperately.
And now, so did Conner.
ROB bided his time, following behind, as Stan neared the door. He could do this, he would do this, he had to succeed. For Samantha’s sake… and, for his own. If he failed, he wasn’t likely to live to tell about it. His life didn’t have many good works to show for it, and he hoped God had good works planned for him to do in the future. Trying to immobilize this guy might be kind of at odds with that, Rob wasn’t sure, but…
As Stan reached to open the door, Rob slammed his shoulder into the man’s back. Stan’s head hit the door with a loud crack, as Rob grabbed for the gun, and Stan spun. He flung Rob off, then reached behind his back for the weapon that was now skittering across the floor. Stan abandoned it, and went for Rob. The gun was too far away, Rob couldn’t reach it, he swung his leg and sent it spinning underneath the hot boilers, as Stan came down hard, aiming his knee at Rob’s chest.
ERIK groaned inwardly, as he watched Sheila’s own confession slowly dawn on her. She looked as sick as Conner probably did. Erik sent up another prayer, reminding himself God was in control. That didn’t mean this would turn out the way he wanted it to, but… If he survived this, he’d be amazed later at the peace he had. He wasn’t alone, no matter how it felt.
“Sheila… You didn’t,” Conner said, his face ashen. “Please tell me you didn’t.”
“We needed the contract,” Sheila said pleadingly. “Everything would’ve been fine, except nothing I did made a difference. Then I got my cousins involved, and they got Burns involved. Randall and Jess froze to death on the mountain, then we got the Oasis contract, and didn’t need Pine Mountain, and Burns was mad, and you wouldn’t hire him anyway, which I had no idea, until Wednesday, and… I just wanted to help. You deserve to succeed. You’re a better contractor than any of the rest of them, and we would’ve gone out of business.”
“No, we wouldn’t,” Conner corrected her. He looked as though he might be sick. “And I wouldn’t care if I did, I’d rather that, than this! Sheila, I can’t believe what you’ve done!”
Tears welled in Sheila’s eyes, then anger.
“Oh, great! So what’re you going to do, take his side?” she jabbed the gun in Erik’s direction again.
“Yes, Sheila, if you force me to,” Conner declared firmly. “Look, I’ll help you however I can, you… obviously need it. But not if you make things worse than they already are.”
For several long seconds, Sheila stared back at him. Then her eyes hardened, and she motioned toward Conner’s private office.
“Go. Both of you. Get away from that door, and move!” she snapped.
Conner started to disagree, but Erik put out his hand and stopped him. They exchanged a look, and Conner nodded slightly.
“What was that about?” Sheila nearly came unglued. Erik looked back at her coolly.
“We can talk this through more comfortably in the office, than we can here,” he replied. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like the chance to sit down.”
Sheila blinked hard, then motioned toward the door again.
Erik didn’t have much of a plan, other than to keep her talking, and hope Amber’s gut instinct kicked in. And, that she’d do something other than show up.
As he and Conner moved away from the outside door, Sheila positioned herself in front of it.
The more Erik thought about it, the more concerned he was. As he followed Conner through the door into his office, Erik started to suggest he should let his girlfriend know he couldn’t pick her up. As he turned to look over his shoulder, what sounded like an explosion reverberated through the office, and Sheila fired.
ROB caught Stan’s leg with both hands, and used all his strength to propel him backwards and to the side. Stan was thrown off balance and Rob scrambled to get back on his feet, as Stan caught himself. He grabbed the front of Rob’s shirt, swung with his fist, connected with his jaw, and Rob fell.
He hit the floor with a sickening crack, and the world grew dark.
AMBER used all her might to slam against the door a second time. It flew open, and reconnected with Sheila before she could regain her balance. Amber jumped on her back, and Sheila went down. It was a tangle of arms and legs and feet, as Amber’s three friends came to her aid. Meg stomped out Sheila’s plans to shoot again, literally, pinning her wrist to the ground. Rae took the other arm, Abb
y sat on her legs, and Amber kept her pinned, while maintaining a relentless headlock.
“Call the police,” Erik said over the noise, as he went to assist. Not that there was anything to do. He did grab a strand of Christmas lights, which Abby saw as brilliance.
“Toss it to me!” she ordered, so Erik did. All the effort spent detangling them was worth it, after all.
Conner had the police on the line, holding one hand to his ear as he tried to hear and respond appropriately to the 911 operator’s questions. The girls found it a challenge to tie Sheila’s hands with Amber on top of her, but they managed. Erik watched, because there was nothing else to do, while they trussed her up most thoroughly, then wrapped her for good measure.
When Amber was certain Sheila wasn’t going anywhere, she stood and gave Erik a good look. She did not appear to be pleased.
“Are you hurt?” she snapped, her eyes taking in the office’s splintered doorframe, and the bullet hole.
“No, I’m fine,” he assured her.
Amber’s eyes blazed, and she gave his shoulder a resounding smack.
“What were you thinking!” she demanded to know.
“Anything I say, is liable to get me slugged again,” he replied, as she glared at him. He saw in her eyes that underneath the fury, was the fear of what could’ve, and would’ve, been. If not for her. “You saved my life. Mine, and Conner’s.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she angrily brushed them away as an infuriating sob escaped. Erik pulled her into his arms, and hugged her. She did slug him again, but feebly, this time.
“Don’t you ever do something so stupid again,” she sobbed.
“I won’t, I promise,” he said soothingly.
“I told you what would happen if you investigated without me,” she scolded.
“I was just going to talk to Conner, and—I’m sorry. Believe me, I learned my lesson,” he assured her.
“This is every bit as bad as going into a bar, on the bad side of town,” Amber gulped.
“Well, I… guess you won’t accuse me of never making a dumb mistake, again,” Erik said lamely.
“Stop trying to make me laugh,” she choked out. “You have no idea how terrified I was!”
“No, I think I do,” he replied, remembering that night in the bar, and how he felt at the thought of her being hurt. Now that he was in love with her… “And I am so sorry.”
Disengaged (Terms of Engagement Book 3) Page 47
