by Lisa Cardiff
From the shadows, he watched her walk down the street. She decisively opened the door of another building, a hotel. Her thoughts were blocked from his prying mind and from any suggestions he could plant subliminally. Did she do that intentionally? Did she understand she had the power to block him? No, she didn’t know he was nearby or at least he hoped not. After five minutes had passed, he jogged across the street, avoiding puddles of stagnant water as he went.
She was still standing at the front desk finishing the paperwork to check into the room for the night. So intent on getting her room, she didn’t notice him standing in the corner of the lobby with his back to her. He listened to the conversation.
The hotel employee gave Avery a sour look as she tried to swipe her credit card. “I’m sorry, but your credit card was declined. Do you have another card to try?”
“Sure, but I don’t understand why it was declined. Can I use your phone to call customer service?”
“Of course.” The employee handed her a phone.
“Here’s another card to try in the meantime. It should work. I just opened the account before I left.”
“Did you alert the credit card company to your travel plans? Sometimes a card is rejected to prevent fraud.”
Avery nodded while she concentrated on dialing the number printed on the back of the card.
After a moment, the employee handed the second card back to Avery. “This one was rejected as well.”
Avery looked up from the numbers she was keying into the phone. “Really? That’s strange. Let me talk to customer service and see what they say.” Turning away from the desk to afford herself some privacy, she spoke quietly to the customer service agent on the phone. When she finished with the phone call, she absently placed the phone receiver back on its base and turned toward the front window of the lobby. Gathering strength, she turned back to the hotel employee.
“I am sorry. There has been some mix up with my credit card. The card was reported stolen, but they hope to have the mix up sorted out within the next twenty-four hours. In the meantime, can you accept a cash payment?”
“Yes, but we need a credit card on file for the security deposit.”
“What do you hold on a card for a security deposit?”
“One hundred and fifty Euros.”
She cringed thinking she would be handing over the last of her cash. She did have a pocket full of coins, but that wouldn’t buy much of anything. Realizing she would get the deposit back when checked out of the room without any damage, she decided pay the deposit in cash. She already ate, so she wouldn’t need any money until tomorrow. So much for her idea to buy new clothes. She hoped her aunt would give her a small loan or maybe she could call Grace to wire her some money until she sorted out her credit card issue.
“Okay. That works for me. I’ll give you an extra hundred and fifty Euros until I check out and you verify everything is fine with the room. Then, it can be refunded.” Pulling the additional money out of her wallet, she slid it across the counter.
“I’m sorry. That’s against hotel policy. We need the security of a credit card.”
“Can I speak with the manager?”
“I am the manager and I’m unwilling to make an exception. I’m really sorry. You can borrow the phone and try to sort out the situation with your credit cards.”
She let out a frustrated sigh. “Are you serious? You can’t accept cash? My credit card company needs to conduct an investigation, and they said that could take up to twenty-four hours.”
“I can take a credit card over the phone. Can you call someone with a credit card to help you? It will not be charged if there aren’t any damages.”
Avery ran through the short list of people she could call: her aunt or Grace. She thought either might be willing to do this for her, but she felt uncomfortable involving them. If she were honest with herself, she wasn’t sure whom she could trust at the moment. If someone could call and report her credit cards stolen and leave her financially destitute, the list of what they could do to her and her family and friends was endless.
The gravity of the situation hit her fully, and the weight of everything made her shoulders drop. Running her hands through her knotted hair, she felt lost and alone. She should laugh at the irony of the situation. She had spent years of her life holding everyone at a distance out of fear that others would reject her like she was rejected by Dierdre, and now, when she needed someone she could trust, she had no one.
Grace or her aunt might agree help her, but she didn’t know if they would betray her either actively or inadvertently. In the last hour she had spent with her aunt, Avery finally felt some sense of love and concern, but maybe she imagined it. Then there was Grace, and while Grace had been in her life for a long time, what did Avery actually know about her? Avery had been attracted to Grace’s personality and not always in a positive way. Grace never cared enough to pry into Avery’s background or relationships. Of course, she asked Avery questions, but Grace was always happy let the conversation revert to her. While some people probably thought that was bad, Avery liked that it made her invisible, almost casting her in Grace’s shadow.
“Excuse me,” the front desk clerk said, interrupting her thoughts. “Did you want to call someone?”
“No. Just call a taxi for me and let me know when it is out front. I’ll wait inside until it arrives.”
“Where do you want to go?”
Avery hesitated. She could run back to Kalen at the safe house, or she could go back to Galway and her mother’s car. She feared Thomas Flannigan and his goons might be stalking her old hotel, but she didn’t know what Kalen or her father wanted. “Galway. The Harbour Hotel.”
“I will let you know when it’s here.”
Shoulders slumped and head down, Avery walked to a cluster of four chairs surrounding a rounded glass table in the lobby waiting area. She slid into a faded blue chair. Twirling her phone in one hand, she stared out the front window of the hotel, watching for her taxi.
Defeat settled into her psyche. She didn’t know if she could do this anymore. The whole situation felt surreal. What happened to the introverted researcher who singularly focused on her work and avoided emotional entanglements? Now she was virtually stranded in a foreign country with little to no money, no access to credit, and no clothes. The Foundation probably reported her credit cards stolen because she had given them copies of her statements for expense reports. To top it off, she witnessed her mother’s murder, and the murderer—who happened to be her employer—was chasing her. Oh, and she couldn’t forget being stalked by some mercenary supposedly working for her long lost father. What a difference a week makes.
When she saw a taxi pull in front of the hotel, she slowly stood up then walked out of the entry door without noticing the eyes watching her every move.
Chapter 12
Avery had the taxi cab driver circle the block twice on the pretense that she couldn’t remember exactly where she parked her car. When she was satisfied no one was watching the car, she asked the driver to pull over. She paid the driver and quickly ran to the door of her mother’s car. Her hands shook as she pulled the keys out of her purse. She feared being discovered before she could get inside the car.
Once seated behind the wheel, she shoved the keys into the ignition, started the car, then pulled away from the curb.
She wasn’t sure where to go, but she couldn’t sit outside her old hotel trying to make a plan. While she cautiously drove down the street, one of the cars lining the sidewalk abruptly veered in front of her. She had to slam on her breaks to keep from rear-ending it.
“Shit,” she yelled, slamming her hand into her horn. When the car didn’t move, she reversed and attempted to maneuver around it. Swearing again, she realized the car-lined street was too narrow for her to turn or drive around the car. She honked one more time. When they didn’t respond, she got out, leaving the car engine running and the front door open.
As she appro
ached the car, its doors opened and out jumped three men. Without stopping to think, she bolted to her car and dove into the driver seat. Just as her hand closed around the metal handle to slam the door shut, a man grabbed the door and attempted squeeze his large arm through the opening. Avery pitched all her weight toward the passenger door while firmly gripping the driver’s side door handle with both hands. In her peripheral vision, she saw another man reaching for the passenger door handle. She released her right hand from the driver’s door handle, slapping wildly at the lock button.
Releasing one hand gave the man on the driver’s side door the advantage in their power struggle. One of his hands shot through the opening and grabbed her leg. With a strength born of sheer horror, she used her free leg to kick his chest and face repeatedly. His head flew backwards and he pulled her half way out the door.
Remembering the dull kitchen knife she stole, she pulled it from her back pocket. The knife temporarily caught the reflection of a nearby streetlamp, flickering like a silver flame. With one final push of willpower, Avery flung her upper body into a seated position and wildly sliced at any part of the man’s body within range. She slashed the side of the man’s face and he staggered back, falling to his knees, cupping the side of his face, and releasing his hold on her leg in the process.
She looked up and saw the man previously banging on the passenger side door running to the fallen man’s aid. She slammed and locked the door before either man came after her again. She heard a familiar voice yelling to stop her. Avery’s turned toward the source of the voice, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the last attacker hovering by the side of the other car. He was partially in the shadows, but she had no trouble deciphering who he was—Thomas Flannigan.
She shivered at feeling the evil and malice emanating from him in waves. An intense hatred bubbled inside her, threatening to erupt. The corner of his lips tipped upward as he stared at her. She didn’t like him from the minute she met him in his office and now she wanted to kill him. She hated his smug smile, his aristocratic appearance of trying too hard, and his feral, cold eyes. Most of all she hated that he assumed his mere appearance would intimidate her into surrendering to him without a fight. She didn’t believe in pure evil, but if she did, Thomas Flannigan could be the poster boy for evil and corruption.
He pushed away from the side of the car, waved the other two men away, and then mockingly clapped his hands as if he were impressed by her performance.
“Nice try, but the game’s up. Be a good girl, Avery, and get out of the car before you get hurt.” He held out his hand and gestured to her patiently, like a king bestowing a favor on a lowly peasant.
There was no way in hell she was going to get out of her car and willingly go anywhere with that sadistic asshole. She made her own obscene gesture in response and shifted the car out of park and into reverse. There was insufficient space between Thomas’ car and the parked cars to make it through without damaging one or both cars, but it didn’t matter. She slammed her foot onto the gas petal, causing her tires to spin in place. When they caught, her car shot backwards down the street.
The man she had kicked ran then jumped onto the hood of her car. The car shook with the impact of his weight. Momentarily stunned, Avery eased her foot off the gas petal and her car came to a gradual stop. Seeing him reach for something inside his jacket, she slammed her foot on the gas petal again and jerked the steering wheel hard to the left and right repeatedly. After she sideswiped a parked car, the man lost his grip on the hood and rolled off the side, tumbling to the ground. Watching from the rearview mirror, she made a hard left turn at the first cross street, slammed on her breaks, and then continued forward down the street.
Not sure where she should go, she wove aimlessly through the streets. With all the noise from the car crash, she was sure someone would call the police and she wasn’t inclined to sit around waiting for that to happen. Anyone in the vicinity could have taken note of the description of her car and the license plate number. The license plates were likely registered under Dierdre’s name, and if her aunt were questioned before she had the opportunity to talk to her, she might unknowingly expose her. She should abandon the car and tell her aunt Dierdre’s car was stolen or missing.
Before ditching the car, she needed to get out of Galway and away from Thomas Flannigan before he tracked her down again. Carefully circling in and out of streets near the town center, she knew she was well past the point of total exhaustion, and her mind was operating on sheer adrenaline. This day seemed as if it would never end. She had to find a place to sleep, but without a credit card, she had nowhere to go. Hoping she bought herself time with her escape, she pulled over on a quiet and dark residential street.
Turning off the car, she reached up and pressed the overhead light, dimly lighting the car’s interior. She stretched across the passenger seat and opened the glove box. She rooted through the contents, looking for some gum or candy to keep her awake. Several papers haphazardly stuffed inside tumbled onto the floor mat. While scanning through the papers for anything of interest, Avery rubbed the nape of her neck. Her eyes felt swollen and dry. She reclined the driver’s seat and pulled her legs closer to her chest to get comfortable.
She needed to sleep, but she needed to find safety more. Her last good night of sleep was before she got to Ireland, and that seemed like weeks ago rather than just a couple days. Her stomach was a tight knot of tension. Leaning her head against the window, the warm car wrapped her body in a deceptive cocoon. The street was dark and quiet, and the soft Atlantic breeze caressing her car, lulled her to sleep. Avery couldn’t fight it any longer.
Kalen watched Avery’s car turn onto a residential street. After she had turned off the ignition, he waited. When it looked as though she was going to stay put and rest, he quietly approached the car, staying in the shadows. Nearing the trunk of her car, he bent down and crept cautiously to the driver’s side window. Slowly he rose, holding his breath as he peered into her window. Her head rested against the driver’s side window with her knees pulled into her chest. He studied her face, her strain still evident even in sleep. He wanted to run his finger over the crease between her eyebrows to force her to relax.
He was torn between letting her sleep and waking her. The danger of sleeping in the car with Flannigan frantically casing the city looking for her was enormous. He couldn’t believe she would fight so hard to get away from him and then let herself sleep on some semi-hidden street an hour later. She must have been beyond exhausted and thoroughly confused.
Walking to the passenger side of the car, he willed the lock open with his mind, silently opened the door, and then slid into the passenger seat. Avery had fallen asleep before turning off the interior light, so opening the door didn’t startle her. Probing her mind, he confirmed her deep sleep. He cautiously closed the door. Watching her face, he was satisfied his actions hadn’t disturbed her.
Before he could stop himself, he reached out and stroked the length of her hair. He smiled when her shoulders relaxed and the crease between her brows unfurled. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t sit and watch her sleep while they were in danger of being discovered. No, he had to get them out of there. Without hesitating further, he shifted in his seat and lifted her to his lap. After a few awkward adjustments, he was able to slide her into the passenger seat and himself into the driver’s seat. Satisfied Avery would continue to sleep for some time, he drove out of Galway.
Peter stared at the ceiling of his hotel room, trying to understand why Avery failed to show up at the arranged meeting place. She sounded so relieved to hear from him, and she didn’t hesitate when he suggested they meet. It didn’t make sense. In her last text, she suggested they meet for breakfast, but he didn’t think it would happen. He suspected she didn’t trust him. If that were true, his options were becoming increasingly limited by the minute.
Calling Grace and pressuring her to make sure Avery met him was an option, but he didn’t want
to talk to her. The conversation never ended pleasantly whenever he mentioned Avery to Grace. Her feelings toward Avery were undoubtedly complex. Grace tried to be a loyal friend, but she resented Avery too. The more he played out a conversation with Grace in his head, the more he dismissed the idea of calling her.
His other option was realigning himself with Flannigan and that would not have a good outcome. Flannigan always managed to take a messy situation to a new level. He was flat out unpredictable. No, that wasn’t entirely true. He had a win at all cost attitude. If Peter kept that in mind, Flannigan was remarkably predictable. All he had to do to stay one step ahead of Flannigan was to put himself in Flannigan’s place and ask himself what was in Flannigan’s interest, not the Foundation’s interest and not the alternative least likely to cause damage.
Just as he resigned himself to working with Flannigan, his cell phone rang. His heart lurched thinking it might be Avery. He rolled to his side and saw Flannigan’s name light up the screen. After two more rings, he reconciled himself to the only course available to him at this time.
“Flannigan, don’t you think it’s a little too late to be calling me.”
Ignoring Peter’s greeting, Flannigan chuckled and replied, “I guess your girl didn’t show—so much for the genius of your softer touch. You’ll never make it to the big leagues.”
On alert, Peter shot straight up to a seated position in his bed. “Who says she didn’t show?”
“Oh, don’t play games with me. I just encountered the lovely and talented Avery in Galway about thirty minutes ago, and you were not with her, unless you were hiding beneath her skirt.”
“Fuck you, Flannigan.”
Peter’s anger emboldened Flannigan more. “Hey, lover boy, don’t direct your anger at me because she ditched you. Maybe if you could stop panting after her for a few minutes, you might be able to focus on the end goal.”
