“Hey, why don’t you guys go to work with me?”
“We’re told to cover the house only.”
“Who told you?”
“Mr. Hart.”
“What other security is there?”
“Cameras.”
“Is someone here all the time?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Hmm. Okay, that should make me feel better, but it actually worries me more. Maybe there is more to this than I have allowed myself to consider. If Kestrel thought it worth hiring these guys to patrol the house continually, then he must’ve had his reasons. Also, did the police ever catch the shooters?
I need to find out so I text Kestrel. But it reads undelivered. So I call and I get a recording that the number has been disconnected. Did he do that so I couldn’t get in touch with him? I’m beginning to get pissed. Checking the time, I see it’s four p.m. So I try HTS. The receptionist informs me that he’s out of the office. There’s one solid way to find out. I get back in my car and drive up there. When I see his Lamborghini in his parking space, I know he’s there.
The receptionist tries to stop me, but she’s no match for me. Shayla is another matter. She’s obstinate and will protect her boss no matter what. She stands in front of his office door, arms crossed, feet spread, barring the entrance.
“Shayla let me pass.”
“I have instructions he’s not to be disturbed.”
“And I don’t care what your instructions are. Let me through.”
“No.”
“Then this is going to be a long rest of the afternoon for you because I’m not leaving. He has to come out eventually.”
Curious eyes are drawn to us as we have our showdown.
“This is ridiculous. Be reasonable, Shayla.”
“I am. I am his employee, following orders. When he says, ‘No one,’ that means even you.”
I’ve finally reached my breaking point and yell, “Oh, for the love of God, let me in his fucking office, now!”
“Watch your language!”
“Not until you open that fucking door!”
The door swings open and there he stands, hands on his hips. “What the hell is going on out here?” Then his emerald irises land on me and darken. He takes two steps and his fingers chain around my wrist. “Get in here.”
He practically drags me inside and slams the door shut. It bangs so loudly, all the paintings on the wall rattle and I think they’re going to fall off.
“What the hell are you doing here? Trying to raise the dead?”
“I’m trying to have a conversation with you, asshole, but your phone has been disconnected and your receptionist is lying to me.”
A guilty look washes over his face. “It was for a good reason.”
“Oh? Care to share it with me?” I can’t keep the snarkiness out of my tone.
He rolls his shoulders back and doesn’t say anything.
“No comment, I see. Avoiding me as usual then.”
“Carter, it’s not what you think.” His voice is soft.
“And what exactly do I think, Kestrel? Tell me, because I’m interested in knowing.”
Before I can process, he grabs my wrist again, pulls me against the steel hardness of his chest and his lips crush mine. For a moment I don’t react. But then anger soars into me, firing my blood, and I sink my teeth into his lip. When he gasps, I wedge my palms between us, shove him away with all my might, and then take a swing at him.
He ducks and avoids my arm. “What the fuck! You bit me!”
I glare at him and seethe. “You don’t have the right to kiss me. You walked out of my life and fucking abandoned me.” My chest heaves with emotion as we stare at each other.
I’m so angry I want to hit him again, but he sees it coming and grabs my arm. I jerk it out of his grasp.
His voice is raised as he answers back, “It was for a damn good reason!”
“You don’t get to make my life’s decisions. Only I get to do that.”
Now we’re both panting like two dogs as we have a stare down. Then he reaches for my wrist again, but I evade him. Gesturing toward the sitting area in the corner, he says, “Sit.”
Not a please. Just a sit.
I stand there staring at him, toe tapping on the thick carpet. Like everywhere else that touches his life, Kestrel’s office is opulent, filled with pricey things.
He points to the sofa and says again, “Sit.”
“I am not a fucking dog.”
Now he rubs his forehead and sighs. “I never thought you were. Please, Carter, take a seat.”
Marching to the sofa, I sit. “Happy now?”
“No. Happiness is not possible for me. Not until the killer or killers are caught.”
“Yeah, so that’s why I tried to text you, then call. I wanted to know if they caught them. I got freaked out. But I couldn’t fucking reach you.” I’m shaking I’m so angry.
He tilts his head and says urgently, “Why were you freaked? Did something happen?”
“No! It’s just that those guys are at the house and I wanted to know.”
“No. They haven’t caught them. When they do, you’ll be the first to know.”
I dip my head and play with an imaginary thread on my pants leg.
“So how are you feeling? Are you all healed up?”
“Do you even care?” I ask.
“Of course I fucking care, dammit. I love you.”
“You have a strange way of showing it.”
“Your safety is most important. That’s why …” His voice trails off but he continues to stare at me. “Please don’t hate me, Carter. Just don’t hate me for what I’m doing.”
“I’m trying, but you’re not making it very easy. I don’t understand why we can’t be together. Why we can’t be …” I shake my head.
“Because if they’re after me, I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire … to be collateral damage.”
“So, how long? A month? Six? A year?”
“As long as it takes to catch them.”
“I see. So until then, you’ll continue to decide my life for me. Is that it?” Reaching into my handbag, I pull out a piece of paper and hand it to him as I get up to leave.
He looks at it. All it says is August 14, 2015.
“What’s this? Ells’ birthday?”
“Not exactly. Irony is a bitch, Daddy.” And I walk out of his office.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kestrel
Everything comes to a screeching halt. August 14, 2015. “Irony is a bitch, Daddy.” Oh my fucking shit. Carter is pregnant. She suspected she might be. But in all the melee, I’d forgotten. And I left her. Alone. To deal with this by herself. So how does that make me feel? Like a fucking piece of dirt.
I explode out of my chair and tear through the office as though my ass is on fire. When I hit the parking lot, she’s backing out of the space.
“Wait! Carter!” I run toward her car, arms flailing in the air trying to get her attention. She hits the brakes and I sprint to her door. Opening it up I try to pull her out, but she’s belted in. Dropping to my knees, I lay my head on her lap and hug her.
When I’m finally composed enough to speak, I look up at her and she wipes my cheeks. “Jesus, I’m so sorry I left you. It was for your safety, but I didn’t know. I talked with everyone and they felt if I was the cause it would be best for you.” My rapid-fire speech has her head moving back and forth in an effort to keep up, I imagine.
I go on and on with my explanation and she finally says, “Hey, do you think I should move my car?”
Shifting my body back on my ass, I look around and decide that’s probably a pretty good idea. The guys from DWI probably think I’m an idiot.
“Not only that, I need to get you back inside.” I move to allow her to park again, and then I help her out. When we walk back in, everyone is spying on us, though they try to act like they’re not looking at us at all. As we’re walking inside my office, I tell
Shayla we are not to be disturbed.
Once the door is closed, I take Carter in my arms and kiss her. It reminds me of how much I missed her. “Promise not to bite me?”
“Yeah.” Her fingers touch my cheek.
“Tell me you missed this as much as I. I dreamed of you next to me in bed every night. I wanted you so much at times, it hurt.”
“I hated you for leaving me. I couldn’t understand why you did it.”
“I discussed it with Drex. I didn’t want to do it. It was the hardest thing I ever did.”
“Who’s Drex?”
“He’s the private investigator I hired. He’s based in Denver. He’s the best and he thought it might be best. If the killers intended to kill me, then you would be safer. It worries me that you still could be hurt. And the baby. When did you find out?”
“In the hospital before surgery. I didn’t want to tell you in the hospital because you had too much going on as it was. I was going to tell you when I got out, but you left before I had the chance.”
“Jesus. I’m so sorry, angel.” I kiss her again. “And after I told you I would have your back on that. You must’ve thought I was the biggest ass.”
“Yep. Mostly because you didn’t let me decide what I wanted. You chose for me. I want to make my own life’s decisions.”
Shit. Now I have to worry about this as well.
“What is it?”
“We need to get you out of town.”
“What?” She pushes me away.
“Listen, angel. Someone wants me dead. Bad enough to shoot the hell out of the house. And here’s what’s worse. The police tried to cover some of it up.”
“What?” Her faces pales.
“After I hired Drex Wolfe, I flew to Denver and he began his investigation. Very little of the evidence they collected was recorded. So he started looking into it and now he thinks someone in the police department is covering it up.”
Carter’s phone buzzes as I’m telling her this. She looks at it and it’s a message from John.
“Oh no!”
“What?” I ask.
“There’s been an explosion at the hospital.”
“An explosion?”
“Yes! John said that he was in the parking garage when it happened.”
“What?”
She calls him. But all he can tell her is that he was in the garage when the alarms started going off. He exited the building and when he got to the street, they said an explosion occurred in the research building. He just found out it was in their lab.
“They won’t know what happened until they can get in to investigate.”
“I’m calling Drex.”
My conversation with Drex convinces us it’s more than just a coincidence. He asks if John left early. Carter checks the time and says she thinks he must have. Then Drex asks if she did.
“Well, yeah, but I’m only working part time this week.”
Drex decides to pull Dane and Heath out of the shadows.
“Who are Dane and Heath?” Carter wants to know.
“You’ll find out in a few minutes.”
I tell Shayla to let Dane in when he gets here. A few minutes later, there’s a knock and in walks a tall, muscular guy with a military look about him. His dark hair is cropped short and he’s wearing jeans and a camo jacket.
“You must be Dane,” I say.
“That’s right, sir.”
“Nice to meet you. This is Carter.”
“I am aware, sir.” He nods at Carter. “I am to escort Dr. Drayton everywhere. Heath and I will work, as we have been, except now we’ll be visible to her.”
“What do you mean?” Carter asks.
“Uh, yeah, so Dane and Heath have been your shadows for the last few weeks. To keep you safe. Everywhere you’ve been, they’ve been with you. They are experts in what they do, angel.”
“You really think this is necessary?”
“Of course I do!” I yell. “If that explosion in your lab was a bomb meant to kill you, then they’re after you, not me!”
“A bomb! Who said anything about a bomb?”
Dane stands with his feet spread, hands folded, silent.
“Angel, what kinds of things could cause an explosion in your lab?”
She doesn’t respond.
I ask, “Do you work with flammables in your research?”
She purses her lips as she thinks. But she slowly swings her head to and fro. “No. Nothing I can think of.”
“What else can cause an explosion? Gas? Do you use any kind of gas burners?”
“No, we don’t in our lab.”
“So, what could cause an explosion? Any kind of chemical reaction?”
“No. Again, not in our lab.”
“So, back to my point. That explosion may have been meant for you. Dane is here to protect you.”
“How can he do that?”
I look at Dane and he says, “Ma’am, I was Special Ops. I’m trained in a lot of things. I can keep you safe. You have to put your trust in me. And if I tell you to do something, you have to do it.”
Carter’s phone rings. She answers it. I pull Dane aside and tell him she knows everything now.
When Carter’s done, she says, “That was Winston Miles from StrongMeds. The police say it may have been a bomb. John told him the same.”
“Okay. That does it. We’re getting you out of Charleston,” I say.
“No,” Carter protests. “Where would I go?”
“Manhattan. To Gabby and Kolson’s. Dane and Heath can go with you. Carter, you have to think of the baby.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t think they’re after me. Now I’m convinced it’s you they want.”
“I have to agree, ma’am,” Dane says.
“Quit calling me ma’am. I’m younger than you are!” Carter says in frustration.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am. Old habits are difficult to break.”
“Oh, hell!” Carter starts to pace.
“I’ll call to have them get a plane ready.”
“Kestrel, come with me. Just for a night. I don’t have any clothes.”
“We can take care of that, ma’am,” Dane says. He makes a call and that’s that.
Carter pulls me aside. “So what. I have strange men going through my lingerie and packing my bags?”
“It’s for a good reason.”
“Come with me. I want to sleep with you.”
I laugh. “That’s quite an invite. Very subtle, angel.”
“Well, what do you expect? I’m not being subtle. I’m frightened.”
“Hang on.” I walk to the door and call Shayla in. When she enters, I give her instructions to cancel everything on my Charleston calendar because I’m leaving for Manhattan in an hour. Her brows shoot skyward, but she only nods.
“Yes, Mr. Hart. Anything else?”
“Yes. After you’re finished, go home and pack a bag. Plan on being gone for two weeks. Tell your husband he can come up this weekend. I’ll send a corporate jet for him. You’re joining me tomorrow.”
A grin spreads across her face. “Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and Shayla. Make sure the staff knows we’ll be gone, but don’t tell them where we’ll be. Just let them know we can be reached by phone.”
“Yes, sir.”
Shayla leaves and I call Turk to tell him to go and pack a bag for me.
“Who’s Turk?” Carter asks.
“He’s my version of Dane.”
Carter’s phone buzzes and it’s John. He tells her the police want to talk to her. I grab her phone.
“Hi John, this is Kestrel Hart. Tell them if they want to speak with her, they’ll have to do it at HTS or in New York.”
“New York?”
“Yes. We’re leaving in about an hour. Since that bomb obviously targeted Carter, I’m getting her out of here. It’s not safe for her in Charleston. Two attempts on her life and that’s enough. The police haven’t done enough to catc
h the ones who killed my mother and nearly killed Carter the first go round. I’m not taking any chances. You can tell them that.”
“I see.”
“And John, be careful.”
“Thanks. I will.”
As expected, the phone at HTS rings and Shayla tells me a Detective Brunson is on the line and wants to speak with Carter. I take the call for her.
“Detective Brunson. Kestrel Hart here. Dr. Drayton is unavailable. Looks like the killers struck again. You guys are doing an amazing job there.”
“Mr. Hart. We need to talk to Dr. Drayton.”
“Yeah, about that. One, she doesn’t know anything. Two, you can talk to her when she’s available. In New York. Where her life isn’t in danger. Where people aren’t trying to shoot her or bomb her lab. Now go and catch the fuckers.” I hang up on him.
Carter says, “Are you sure that was wise?”
“He’s covering up shit.”
My cell buzzes. It’s Turk. “I have everything packed and I’m on the way to the airport.”
“We’ll meet you there.”
I look at Dane and ask, “Any word from Heath yet?”
“No, sir.”
“Call him and see how much longer before he’s on his way.”
“Yes, sir.”
Carter asks, “Is there a plane ready?”
“Yeah, there’s always one on standby.”
Dane says, “Sir, Heath will be on the way in about ten minutes.”
“Good. That means we can leave here in about ten.”
In the meantime, I call Kolson to give him a heads up that he and Gabby will be having company for the next week or so. Then we leave.
Dane tells us to sit in the back and we take the back road to the airport. It’s only about a seven minute ride, which is one of the reasons why we chose this location for our offices. As we’re driving, Dane announces that Heath has pulled up behind us. I turn to look and see him. Carter does the same.
At exactly that moment, another black SUV T-bones us on the driver’s side at a high rate of speed, pushing our car against a concrete embankment. Carter screams, I yell, and so does Dane. Everything happens so fast, I can’t recount it all, other than airbags deploy and I’m thrown into Carter, but she’s simultaneously smashed into me.
Kestrel Page 29
