by Dakota Black
Chapter 10
Camden’s mind was on overload as he drove into the small town, twenty miles outside of El Paso. The GPS took him to the location, a steel and glass building, one of few in the quaint town. As he parked, he thought about every word that Mitchell had said and knew what he was doing would tip the man’s hand. However, if Bart Randolph was this desperate, then he could use this encounter to push the man even further. As long as he didn’t try and hurt Amber.
He headed into the building, finding the elevator with ease. There were no nasty looks given, no glances at all as he rode the elevator to the top floor. He looked like nothing more than a dirty rancher, poor and without means to destroy someone as powerful as the Randolph Corporation. The glass doors made him laugh and he yanked the handle of one on the set of double doors, storming inside.
“I need to see Bart Randolph.”
The girl behind the reception desk barely gave him a look. “And do you have an appointment?”
“No, but I think he’ll want to see me.” He eyed the cup full of lollypops, various jokes popping into his nefarious mind.
“Is that so?” She finally looked up, her eyes unable to hide her disdain. “And you are?”
“Tell him that Camden Dane, CEO of Rush Enterprises will speak with him.”
She wrinkled her brow and slowly got up from her chair, huffing before heading down a long hallway.
Camden realized he’d been drawn to the Rattlesnake Ranch for a reason. Perhaps fate was kicking him in the ass, forcing him to face his responsibilities, ones he’d accepted when Mitchell had stepped down. He was prepared to find his own way to Randolph’s office, but didn’t have to wait very long. The sound of the man’s footsteps could be heard first. He didn’t bother looking, didn’t provide any sign of concern as he walked toward the bank of windows, staring out at the beautiful, sizzling day.
“Camden Dane. As I live and breathe. I heard you were in town.”
I just bet you did. He heard the exaggerated twang, the country boy tone as if the crap was going to fool him in any regard. Before turning to face him, Camden plastered on a practiced smile. He refused to allow the fucker to get under his skin. Coming here was enough to ignite a series of red flags, but now, he was going to take the upper hand. “Bart Randolph. Everything I’ve heard about you has been… Let’s just say fascinating.” He took two long strides toward the older man, studying his features as if disappointed at what he was seeing.
Bart held out his hand. “Well, son, we all have reputations to live up to. Now, don’t we?” His laugh was boisterous, booming even in the expansive lobby.
Camden walked closer, grasping the man’s hand. The handshake was more like the beginnings of an arm wrestling match.
And he came out the winner.
Darting a glance at his receptionist, Bart’s eyes held a second’s worth of uncertainty.
Good. He had the freaking asshole on edge. Perhaps his arrival on the ranch hadn’t been blasted to every man in the company.
“Come on back, son. Looks like you could use a stiff drink. God knows I could.” Bart snorted and waved his hand. “Sugar. Make certain we aren’t interrupted. By anyone.”
“Of course, sir.” Her voice was more like a purr.
“Come on into my office, son. I’m certain we have some things to talk about.”
Camden followed behind him, glancing into the few offices. No one bothered to look in his direction, but they were certainly busy, their desks covered in what appeared to be graphs. And all similar in nature to the ones he’d seen in Amber’s office.
Things were definitely getting more interesting.
Bart closed the door behind him and immediately walked toward a gleaming bar nestled in the corner. “I take you for a whiskey man. Am I right? Course, I’m right.”
“Whiskey is fine.” He scanned the impressive office and while he suspected that Bart did little, if any, work inside the walls, appearances seemed to be important to the man.
“What brings you to these parts, Camden? Oh, that’s right. Your little company purchased Steele Industries. Right?”
Camden smiled, resisting the bait. “We did. Granted that was a couple of years ago. I have certain other interests in town.”
Bart remained quiet as he poured the drinks then walked toward Camden.
He noticed the distinct twinkle in the man’s eyes, as if harboring his ill intent toward the various ranchers was nothing but child’s play.
“Here you are. Might put some hair on that baby face of yours.” Bart laughed as he handed Camden a glass. “Just kiddin’, boy. How’s Mitchell Rush these days? Been hearing all kinds of things about him. His pappy would be…” He rubbed his chin and sauntered back toward his desk. “Let’s just say I think his pappy would be rolling over in his grave.”
“And you and I both know there was no love lost between Mitchell and his father. That’s old news. Why don’t we get down to business?” Camden walked closer, keeping the same smile, making certain the enemy could see he had no care in the world.
“I like that about you. What can I do for ya?”
Camden was well aware to be careful of saying anything that would potentially place Amber in harm’s way; however, he had a plan brewing and it would take Bart coming apart at the seams for success. He savored the drink, swirling the liquid in the heavy rocks glass, enjoying the way the ice clinked against the side. When he took a sip, draining most of the liquid, he closed his eyes. When he was finished, he sighed and held up the glass. “You’re right. I’m a whiskey man.”
Bart gave him a hard look before lifting his own glass, preparing to take a sip.
Camden closed the distance within two seconds, wrapping his hand around the pudgy man’s throat and slamming him against the floor to ceiling window with a hard thud. He kept the smile and made certain he wore an expression of amusement as Bart sputtered, dropping the glass given his surprise.
His face puffy and red, he tried his best to issue angry retorts.
He dug his fingers into the man’s skin, delighting in the way Bart’s eyes were popping. Inching as close as he could tolerate given the man’s wretched stench, he kept his voice low, even and full of confidence. “This is a one-time warning. One. You will leave Amber Harding alone as well as the other ranchers you’ve tried to extort. You will cut your ties with the financial institutions you think you have under your thumb, including the own holding the note to Rattlesnake Ranch. And you will turn yourself and the goons on your payroll in to the local authorities, making certain you detail every damning deed, including the murder of Walt Murphy.”
“Fuck… you.”
Camden twisted his hand, cutting off Bart’s air supply. “If you do these things in the next twenty-four hours, I will refrain from authorizing Rush Enterprises to swarm all over your fat ass like a slick of bees on honey. Do you understand me clearly, you sick fuck?” He stated in a calm and collected manner then waited for a solid minute before releasing his hand, dropping the man like a rock.
Bart collided with his desk as he coughed and wheezed.
Whistling, Camden walked toward the office door, stopping only once. “Twenty-four hours. Not a minute longer.”
“I will… ruin you,” Bart managed before falling into another coughing spell.
“Go right ahead and try. I love a challenge.” Walking out, he left the door open, allowing the rest of the employees to understand the outcome of tangling with a member of Rush Enterprises. You bet there were several men and women hanging around their doors.
“You will lose everything. Do you hear me!” Bart called, stomping toward the entrance.
Camden held the grin, whistling a happy tune as he headed into the marble and granite foyer. Snatching a lollypop, he gave the receptionist a toothy grin before unwrapping the candy and plopping it into his mouth. When he walked to the elevator, he shot a single look back. There was suddenly a flurry of activity.
The moment the elevator door was c
losed, he sagged against the cold steel. What the fuck was he going to do now? His plan could very well be rejected by Mitchell, Zach and the various members of the board. But he was going to try. The concept was spot on and could net them serious profit.
Now, he just had to convince what seemed like the rest of the world.
When he was safely outside and near his truck, he pulled out his phone, dialing Mitchell’s cell. The man answered on the second ring. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Why does that scare me to death?”
Camden grinned as he slid into the truck. Convincing Amber would be the issue, his suggestion the last nail in the coffin.
Amber paced the floor, wringing her hands. The police had finally left, and she was empty, so damn cold inside. While there was no additional news on Jorge’s condition, he was resting comfortably at the hospital, his wife by his side. She had Walt’s paper file on her kitchen table, trying to find any next of kin. What the hell was she supposed to tell them?
Nothing was making any sense. Nothing. Of course, she knew why Bart wanted her ranch, as well as the others, by there was more of a push on her, a different threat. No. It was as if Bart was owed Rattlesnake Ranch for some reason. She poured a second glass of wine and tried to breathe, to push away tension. When she brought the glass to her lips, she knew there was going to be no such thing. Not for a hell of a long time.
She managed to take a gulp without spilling the liquid all over herself. Would Camden even come back? Would he find Bart, or would the pig be the true coward she’d always known him to be and run and hide. Her bets were on door number two. Huffing, she took a second sip then struggled to slide the crystal onto the counter. Certain answers had to be in her father’s things.
Her phone rang, and she found herself praying that Camden was on the other end of the line. When she noticed Pepper’s number, she had a sense of… She wasn’t even certain about her own emotions. “Hey.”
“Oh, honey. I just heard about Walt and about Jorge. I’m so sorry.”
“I know. I’m devastated,” Amber managed and took another sip.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Nothing anyone can do. I need to find Walt’s family and I have no real knowledge about him or where he came from. That’s terrible. I’m his employer and have been for almost two years and I don’t know shit.”
Pepper chuckled. “That’s the way of ranching, girlie. You know that.”
“I guess, but I don’t have to like it.” She made a promise to herself that when the ranch got on its feet, she would make changes in the way she handled her crews.
“What about Jorge?”
“He’s in the hospital. I don’t know what to think. I’m going to see him later, but I worry this is the end.”
Exhaling, Penny softened her voice. “He’s had a good life and he loves you very much. He really took over caring about you after your father died.”
“He did. They were so close.”
“I can imagine. They knew everything about each other.”
“Apparently so,” Amber managed to laugh. If anyone could answer her daunting questions, it would be Jorge, but she refused to trouble him now. Money wasn’t important in comparison to his life. “Thanks for calling.”
“If you need anything, call me.”
She nodded as if her bestie could see her. “Maybe we can have lunch tomorrow.”
“That’s fantastic. If you’re up for it,” Pepper said, her voice fading off.
“Yeah, we’ll see.” She slid the phone across the counter, the edge hitting the crystal vase holding the wilting roses. Why had she bothered to keep them in the first place? Snarling, she opened the door under her sink, pulling out the trashcan. “Where you should have gone in the beginning.” The moment she dumped the flowers as well as the vase, she felt much better.
Slamming the door, she wiped her hands and polished off her glass of wine. As if she had any additional courage than she had before.
The walk to her office seemed to take too long. Yes, she was emotionally drained, but she knew the last thing on her mind was opening up some locked down Pandora’s Box. She adored her father and to think he really had any business dealings with Bart Randolph sickened her. But she had to find out the truth.
She turned on the light and walked into the center of the room. Yes, she’d left several of the items out of the box, even a few on the floor, but she had an eerie feeling that someone had been in her office, picking through her things. Everything was just too perfectly arranged. A cold shiver slithered down the back of her legs. Maybe she was exhausted, her fear and worry getting the better of her.
She searched through the various files on her desk, most of which had to do with the ranch itself. Everything appeared exactly as she’d left it. “Relax.” As if saying the word out loud was going to matter.
Dropping to the floor, she pushed her hands across the papers, picking one up then tossing it down. Selecting another and fighting not to crumple it into a ball. What was missing? The graph. The very graph that Camden had been so damn interested in. “No.” Crawling around on the floor, she picked through every paper then slid the remainder of the contents out of the box.
“No. He didn’t…” She couldn’t say the words or even think them. Anyone could have had access to her office, but why would they bother looking through old files? They all knew in their gut she was in dire straits with the bank. But Camden wanted the graph. Had he broken into her house before leaving to talk with Bart? Wait, she hadn’t locked the front door. She was stupid. Stupid!
“Shit!” Nothing was making any sense. Trying to calm her nerves, she began to lay the pages out in some order. Ranch details. Mortgage details. The loan information. At least she could take a much closer look at the hold the bank held over her. Kicking the box, she heard a thud, as if there was still something inside.
Peering over the edge, she noticed what appeared to be a ledger of some kind and it fit squarely into the bottom of the box. She managed to wrench her fingers around one of the edges, yanking it out into the open. There were no markings on the cover of any kind, but she could tell the book had some age given the discoloration of the pages. Holding her breath, she opened to the first page. Her father’s handwriting.
As she began to read what sounded like a tall tale in the beginning, she settled back against the desk, turning to another page. Then another. Yes, she was having difficulty understanding what she was reading, but she knew enough to realize what she’d found was potentially a gold mine.
Or the very reason to have her killed.
Tap! Tap!
“Shit!” Jumping, she glared at the window. Seeing Camden peering in, she wasn’t certain how to react.
He motioned as if going around the house.
Amber glanced back at the items and had never been so rattled in her life. How was she going to get through this? She took her time walking through the house and when she opened the front door, she had zero idea what to say.
“Are you okay?” Camden asked, his voice quiet, his eyes full of concern.
“As I can be. I’m certain you want to come inside.” She folded her arms and took a step back, terrified to look at his face. He would be able to see right through her.
“I tried knocking.”
“I was in my office.”
“I know.” Camden closed the door and walked closer.
She took a step back, trying her best not to look him in the eyes.
“Amber. I hope you understood why I left.”
“The cops aren’t certain what to make of it. I assure them that you had nothing to do with Walt’s death, but you know how crotchety the cops can be,” she stated, anger creeping into her voice.
“I knew I needed to confront Bart, still keeping an element of surprise.” He ran his hand through his hair.
She laughed and shook her head. “I’m sure that went over like a lead weight. No doubt similar to the way he reacted to me.”
“You better believe I did. Confronted the bastard. That’s when he made me the offer he said I shouldn’t refuse.”
Camden exhaled. “You can’t go off half-cocked. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“And what about you? Just because you’re a man doesn’t give you the right—”
Grabbing her arm, he yanked her against him, his entire body shaking.
“You’re hurting me.” She could see the terror in his eyes.
“Yeah? I should turn you over my knee right here. Right now. You continue to push hard but trust me, Bart isn’t the kind of man you want to play with. You know what he’s capable of. The man is desperate. He’ll stop at nothing.”
The way he spouted off the statement, as if only he could fight the demon, made her quiver, her pussy clench. He was indeed trying to be her protector. “What were you doing there? Why now? If Bart knows who you are, don’t you think it’ll make things worse?”
Glaring at his hand, he groaned then released her. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
She hesitated, terrified of doing the wrong thing, but she had to place her trust in someone. She needed help. “Follow me into my office. I have something to show you.”
When she handed him the ledger, she could see his wheels turning. “What do you think?”
Camden walked toward the window, holding the book into the light. “What do I think? I think your father knew a long time ago about the oil and it appears that he hired some engineers almost two decades ago. It also appears he was working with someone at the time.”
“I have a feeling I know who that person is.”
“Bart Randolph.”
She nodded. “The reason Bart is hell bent on taking my land.”
“Do you think Bart has any legitimate claim?”
“Not that I’ve found. But you have to remember, back in the old days, a handshake was as good as a contract.”
Camden chuckled. “I remember those days. Mitchell’s father got himself into a hell of a lot of trouble given the old boys way of doing things. Hindered the acquisition.”
