Hard Pursuit

by Sheryl Nantus

  “I need you,” Ally said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Even as the words left her mouth she silently cursed, knowing it could and should have been phrased better. But she was exhausted, and the stress of seeing the broken body and worrying about Vincent had compromised her senses.

  At least, that’s what she told herself.

  She blundered on. “What I mean is I’d like you to stay with me until Vincent gets back. Tomorrow, I’ve got a site inspection, something I can’t delay.” Ally forced the words past the lump in her throat. “Putting it off might bring up a red flag, suggest something’s out of sorts. It’ll work in with the food poisoning scenario we’ve been pushing.”

  She looked at Edgar. “I can tell you don’t want to spend your time hanging around with me. You’d rather keep hunting for Vincent.”

  Edgar rolled his shoulders back. “I would. It’s my fault he slipped away, and if he’s gone and gotten himself hurt or worse…” He shook his head. “I need to be out there.”

  Ally nodded and turned to Trey again. “But if you’ve got something back at the club demanding your attention…”

  “Okay.”

  The quick response caught her off-guard. “What?”

  “Edgar here can brief me on enough basics to stand by your side like I did at the union meeting and the hospital. I’ll be your partner until this gets resolved.”

  “That was fast.”

  Trey locked eyes with her. “I take care of what’s important to me. Right now, that’s you.”

  The intensity of the simple statement was enough to take her breath away, her fingers tightening on his arm as she stared at him. Lightening flashed in his gaze, desire shooting through her heart and shocking her into silence.

  Snap out of it, girl, she told herself. You’re emotionally on edge. Doesn’t mean anything more than what he said. Just a job, nothing more.

  She needed to get away from him right now, before she said or did something to embarrass herself any further. A little space to compose herself, to reset and reboot before getting back to work.

  Ally got up from the couch and covered her mouth, hiding the yawn. “I’m sorry, I need a few hours downtime before the meeting.” She studied her watch. “It’s set up for one o’clock this afternoon.” She scrubbed her eyes. “I’m not sure I can get any sleep, but I can at least rest, get my mind back on track.”

  Edgar nodded. “You both head in and grab some sleep. I’ll make sure no one bothers either of you until ten or so—that will give you time to eat a decent meal and pull it together.” He gave Ally a hug. “I’m so glad it wasn’t Vincent.”

  “Me, too.” She patted his arm. “Thanks for all your help.”

  Edgar escorted her to the door to her suite, nodding as she ran down a list of people who she should be woken up for. Finally, he laughed and pushed her through to the other side, closing the door.

  She looked around the empty room, her mind catching up with recent events. The shock from the photographs had hit home, slicing through her protective armor.

  Vincent could be dead. But he wasn’t, and the relief was exhausting.

  But that other man…

  She pressed past the nausea in her stomach and stripped down, sliding between the cool, clean sheets with a sigh.

  She heard voices murmuring outside her door. Trey and Edgar were talking about something, likely to do with her. It was tempting to go and see what she could hear, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the strength, the comfort and emotion in their tones helped her feel safe.

  Loved.

  She fell asleep, feeling more at peace than she had since her plane had landed in Las Vegas.

  …

  Trey eyed Edgar as the man settled in a chair opposite him, hands on his knees. His body language told Trey the ex-Marine wanted to talk, and not about the weather.

  “I’m glad it wasn’t Vincent.” Trey tilted his head to one side. “We’re good, right?”

  “Always.” Edgar nodded. “Until you upset her, and then we won’t be.” He raised one eyebrow. “Would have had this talk with you before, but didn’t know you’d be around for so long.” He cleared his throat. “About Ally asking you to stay. You know there’s a secondary reason for this, whether she knows it herself or not.”

  Trey eyed him. “There is?”

  “She needs someone to stand beside her, a neutral party. There are plenty of people inside the company who like Vincent because he gives them what they want. She doesn’t need them whispering behind her back, doubting her skills. Or worse, angling to make themselves look good no matter what the outcome.” He pointed at Trey. “You’re here for her alone, not to suck up for a promotion or sabotage the situation to make yourself look good. Don’t underestimate how important you are. And don’t screw it up. Miss Ally’s a solid woman, even if her brother’s a flaming twit.”

  His tone left no room for negotiation, and Trey wasn’t in the mood to try.

  “Noted.” Trey rose and headed for his bedroom. “See you in a few hours.”

  …

  He lay in bed, forcing himself to rest. He wasn’t going to call Dylan until the sun came up—there was no use in everyone staying up all night.

  The minute the sun peeked over the horizon, though, Trey dialed the familiar number. Dylan picked up on the first ring. “Jessie filled me in. Sorry for the false alarm.”

  “She made the right call. Better Ally find out as soon as possible—easier than waiting for some cop to make the connection and show up at the door to drag her to Henderson. This was a lot better.” It took a few minutes to brief Dylan on recent events.

  “It’s her call. If that works for you, run with it.” Dylan grunted. “Jessie told me Ally offered to pay for the funeral if and when our John Doe from Henderson is identified. Nice of her to do that, given the situation. Keep me updated, and be careful. The business world can be as nasty as a battle zone.”

  “I hear you. Talk to you later.” Trey hung up and looked at the computer screen. He’d automatically booted up his laptop while talking to Dylan and was now getting messages across the board—most of them simple notes about day-to-day operations for the Devil’s Playground. But there was more, something he’d been waiting for.

  His search program had come up with results now that he had the name Vincent Sheldon.

  Vincent Sheldon.

  He rolled the name around in his mouth, trying it on for size.

  You should call.

  He paused, remembering the grieving parents in the graveyard staring at the cold granite headstone.

  There’s nothing to tell them.

  Yet.

  A knock came at the door.

  Edgar poked his head in. “Time to prepare. She’s chomping at the bit to leave—I think she needs the change of scenery.”

  “I’ll be right out.” Trey forced himself to smile. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The construction site was on the outskirts of Las Vegas. Wooden skeletons were spread out across the land, dry bones waiting to come alive. Men and women swarmed over the area like worker bees, pouring concrete and putting up drywall, laying electrical wiring and setting pipes.

  The car rolled to a stop, Edgar parking beside a row of pickup trucks covered with sawdust and dirt.

  He caught Ally’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Mr. Capprelli is waiting for you inside the trailer. I’ve got some leads I want to follow up on.” He lifted his phone. “Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll send a car if I’m not nearby.”

  “Right. I’ve already set my phone up to forward all calls to you—I don’t want to be interrupted during this meeting unless it’s urgent. Anything else can wait until we get back to the hotel.” She turned at Trey. “Ready to play?”

  He smiled, tamping down the heat flaring through his body at her choice of words. “Lead on.”

  He followed her as she picked her
way through the organized chaos in the front yard. She wore a dark suit with a matching skirt, the white blouse buttoned up almost to the top.

  “Capprelli has been with us for a few years, on different projects. This is the first time I’ve actually met him in person. He’s a decent manager, but his accident rate has been creeping up over the last few months,” she explained. “He’s the reason we had to talk to the union leader.”

  “Man’s getting greedy,” Trey said.

  “Likely. It happens over time with some people—we offer bonuses for finishing early, and there are those who see that as an invitation to take more risks, put people in danger. I don’t want anyone to be injured building a damn house.” She stopped at the bottom of the wooden stairs. “Just follow my lead, please.”

  He waved her on with a smile.

  Ally trotted up the steps into the trailer and opened the door.

  He followed her in, remembering the notes from the hotel room.

  …

  She wasn’t in the mood for this. But she had a company to run.

  That’s why you hired Jessie, she told herself. And she’s doing her job.

  Now you do yours.

  She resisted the urge to stare at Trey. He’d worn a black suit today, the top button of the white dress shirt undone and the dark tie working to keep it closed. He looked like he wore it every day, as comfortable in that as in the T-shirt and jeans he’d worn when they’d first met.

  A sense of safety emanated from him in waves, an almost sensual warmth every time he got close. On the drive over, she’d been tempted more than once to lean in, press against him, and wallow in that strength. But she had to go to work, and Trey Pierce had to take a back seat to the needs of Sheldon Construction.

  She’d deal with her own needs later.

  As she entered the trailer, a middle-aged man rose from behind the desk. Cool air washed over her, brushing away the outside heat. He grunted and approached her.

  “You must be Mr. Capprelli.” She held out her hand. “Ally Sheldon. My associate, Trey Pierce.”

  “Right on time. Love that. Glad to put a face to your voice on the phone. Pleased to meet you both.” The white-haired man gave her a weak handshake before gripping Trey’s hand with a strong, firm grip. A leather jacket hung loose on the manager’s shoulders, with the crisp dress shirt underneath tucked into clean jeans.

  “Glad to have you stop on by.” He waved at the single folding chair in front of the desk. “Sorry I don’t have much more to offer you. Trailer’s small, can’t fit two chairs in here.”

  “It’s fine,” she said before sitting down. “I appreciate your understanding. My brother’s still under the weather.”

  Capprelli took his seat. “No problem. Food poisoning’s a bi…” He paused, revising his phrasing. “It’s horrible. Hope he gets better soon. You could have canceled the visit, you know. Nothing here for you to worry about.” He plucked a clipboard off the wall. “Here’s the documentation you asked for. We’ve played the game, got a safety committee and everything. All according to the union contract, and the rep’s been consulted every step of the way.”

  She took the clipboard and flipped through the pages before answering, already knowing what she was going to say.

  “The problem isn’t the safety committee, Mr. Capprelli. It’s the fact you’ve had three injuries in as many weeks. Your explanations might have satisfied the local union bosses, but it doesn’t satisfy me. I know the business, and I know the schedule. You’re pushing them for overtime, pushing them to work when they’re tired.” She handed the clipboard back. “Sloppy work gets people hurt, gets them killed. I realize Vincent promised you a bonus if you finished early, but that doesn’t mean we want human sacrifices.”

  The older man leaned back in his chair, glaring at her. “Listen, I’ve worked in this industry for decades. Longer than you’ve been alive.” He dragged his eyes up her body, stopping monetarily at her breasts before meeting her stare. “I don’t need you telling me how to take care of my men.”

  She didn’t flinch. In a way it was comforting, listening to the familiar chauvinistic chatter.

  She knew how this ended.

  “Good,” Ally said. “Because the next injury is going to cost you half your week’s pay.”

  “What?”

  “You heard what your boss said.” Trey picked the clipboard off the table. He reached over to hang it up again, leaning in over Capprelli in a not-so-subtle intimidation attempt.

  Capprelli’s mouth opened and closed twice before any sound came out. “You can’t do that.”

  “Watch us.” Ally rose from the chair. “I’ll be waiting for your accident-free report next week.” She gave him her best smile. “Thank you for seeing us. We’ll do an inspection of the site before we leave. Don’t worry about escorting us, we can find our own way around.”

  She led Trey out of the trailer, leaving the ashen-faced man behind.

  It wasn’t until they’d picked up hard hats from the side of the trailer and started picking their way through the site that she spoke, keeping her voice low.

  “Thank you. That was a nice touch at the end.”

  Trey shrugged as he walked beside her. “Guy was being an ass. You’re the boss, not his ego.”

  “Yes. Yes, I am.” She adjusted the white hat, brushing an errant long strand of blond hair out of her eyes. “Usual procedure when I visit a site is we chat with the manager then do a walk-around, let the workers see us. I want them to know if they have any problems, complaints or concerns, they can skip over Capprelli and come to us.”

  “Will they recognize you?” Trey nodded toward a group of carpenters busy working on the exterior of one house. “Other than an amazingly beautiful woman strolling by, that is.”

  “I doubt it.” She smiled, taking the compliment in hand. “The spotlight’s usually on Vincent, not me. I don’t believe Capprelli’s been bragging about our visit to anyone. But we’ll make an appearance to make them aware people are watching and caring about their safety.”

  “Capprelli’s dangerous.” He stepped around a skid of bricks. “I may not be an expert in this field, but I can see an idiot a mile away. That type of man is everywhere, thinking only about himself at the expense of others. He always steps out of the way just in time to stay clear of the fallout, saves himself at the expense of others.”

  Ally hesitated as Trey extended his hand, ready to help her over the curb.

  He raised an eyebrow, silently admonishing her.

  I won’t let you fall.

  She took his hand and stepped firmly on the plywood, annoyed with herself for the pause.

  A wolf whistle froze her in her tracks, the sound grating on her ears.

  “What the hell?” Trey released her hand.

  “Don’t worry about it. There’s always an idiot or two on site who either doesn’t know who I am or doesn’t care—they figure I won’t catch them at it, and it’s not worth…” Her words trailed off as she watched him storm toward the offender, a large, thick-necked man standing by a black pickup truck.

  He’s not going to…

  He is.

  She stood there and studied the man’s face as Trey spoke to him, the words swallowed up by a nearby worker busy using a nail gun. Trey’s face showed no emotion, no indication he was doing anything other than having a friendly discussion.

  The man’s sneer changed to a neutral expression. Then his eyebrows rose, and his mouth opened just enough to let his tongue flick out, nervously wetting his lips.

  Trey turned and walked back to her.

  The man followed, sweat beading on his forehead. He stopped in front of her, rubbing his hands together. “I’d like to apologize, Ms. Sheldon. I had no idea who you were.”

  Trey tilted his head.

  “And I shouldn’t be catcalling ladies like that. Because it’s wrong. Respecting women is important, and I should be setting an example for the others.” He glanced at Trey as if asking for permiss
ion.

  A nod sent the man back to work.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said. “He’s not the first, and he won’t be the last.”

  “No,” Trey admitted. “But small steps and all. No woman should be subjected to that sort of thing. No one will do it when I’m around.” The emotion in his words burned through the last of her anger at him, replacing it with a tingle of desire.

  She looked up and cleared her throat, feeling a flush of heat on her cheeks. “Did you threaten that worker with bodily harm?”

  He shrugged. “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  He smiled at her, and her heart skipped a beat. “On how far you think I’d go for you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The rest of the tour went well as Trey saw it. Everyone was polite to a fault and answered any questions Ally put to them with short, honest answers. Some even approached her, offering their opinions on the site, the working conditions, and their recent experiences. She listened to each one and took notes on her phone, refusing to dismiss any comments—even the ones out of left field.

  They respected her. She threw around terms he wasn’t familiar with, complimented quality work when she saw it, and it was plain to him she knew much more about construction than Trey’d ever learn in a lifetime.

  By the time they got back to the car, they were covered in a fine layer of dust and dirt, her black suit now more of a dark gray. But there was a lightness in her step and color in her cheeks, as if they’d been on a walk through the forest instead of picking their way through a construction site.

  It suited her.

  It was well into the afternoon by the time they got back to the hotel.

  Ally flopped onto the couch as soon as Trey opened the door, and she let out an exhausted sigh as she kicked off her heels. “Much rather have my construction boots on. But they don’t go with this outfit.”

  Trey chuckled. “Might have come in handy in kicking that idiot manager’s ass.”

  “You did a pretty good job without them.” She smiled back, and the connection between them tightened a bit more.