Protected by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

  “Yeah. Just busy. Close the door when you go.”

  Rob left, and I turned my attention back to the phone. “One of your guests called me, but I didn’t get his room number.”

  “What’s the name?”

  “Um… Heigh,” I said, then spelled it. What were the odds that Henry was using his real name? Assuming it was Henry. But really, who else could it have been? An old friend? I didn’t have many old friends, and the few who still called would use my cell phone.

  The last time Henry had called my cell, Corbin had threatened to kill him.

  “Nope, no one here by that name,” the guy said.

  “He’s in his forties, lean, short hair.”

  “Sorry, I can’t help you.” The man hung up.

  I quickly weighed my options. My only hope of stopping Corbin was to show up. After being locked in the SUV, out of sight, I was willing to bet that Corbin wouldn’t actually do the deed in front of me.

  I dialed his cell. The Second Waltz began playing on my sofa. I walked across the room in disbelief. That was Corbin’s phone.

  He’d clearly left it behind on purpose, so I wouldn’t be able to get in touch with him.

  The main phone line started ringing down the hall.

  Maybe that was Henry—

  Suspecting that Erin was still sucking face with Martin in the parking lot, I rushed out to answer it, but one of the part-timers had already picked up. I could tell from her laughing, joking tone that it was another of our employees, checking in.

  Fine. I couldn’t wait around in the hope that Henry would call back. I’d just get my car keys—

  No car keys.

  No car.

  Both were at home.

  I hurtled into Rob’s office, but he was already gone. When I looked out his window, only two cars remained. One belonged to Kat, but she wasn’t in the office. She was out working with someone else, and she never left her keys behind. The other belonged to the part-timer, who was just getting off the phone.

  “I need to borrow your car.”

  “Can’t do it, Audrey,” she said, her voice deep and raspy from years of smoking. “Gotta take my daughter to work.”

  “This is urgent,” I said. “I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

  She shook her head. “If my daughter is late again, she’s fired.”

  “Shit,” I mumbled. “How long will that take?”

  “Thirty minutes—”

  “Never mind.” Even five minutes was too long.

  And then I realized. There were two cars in the lot, but three vehicles.

  Chapter 22

  When I burst outside, Erin had her legs wrapped around Martin’s hips. His hands were cupping her ass. On a fundamental level, I just could not understand that level of PDA, but good for them.

  “Martin,” I said. “I need a ride. Martin!”

  I didn’t think he’d heard me, but he slowly put Erin down. “Sure thing, boss,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “I’ll finish with you later.”

  Erin squealed with pleasure, and I wished I could bleach the unwanted visual out of my head.

  “If that guy calls back, get a room number from him, ok?” I told Erin as she reluctantly unglued her pelvis from Martin’s.

  She gave me a little salute. “Remember, Martin’s taken,” she said in a stage whisper as she passed.

  “I’ll try to control myself,” I said.

  Martin pulled a helmet out from under his seat and handed it to me. “Where to?”

  “You know the miniature golf place out on Conference Road?”

  He nodded. “Damn right I do. Two-for-one Tuesdays.”

  “If you get speeding tickets, I’ll reimburse you.”

  That made him grin. “Got it. I don’t know how we’ll haul in a bounty on my bike. I tried it once, and the bastard kept throwing his weight around, trying to make me crash. Guess he assumed he’d just get up and walk away—”

  “I’ll worry about that. You smell like Erin’s perfume.” Like patchouli, actually.

  I tucked my skirt as firmly under my legs as possible and pulled on the helmet. It was too small, too constricting, and without Corbin there to calm me, it seemed to be tightening by the second…

  Closing my eyes, I forced myself to get a grip. I could do this. For Corbin. When I opened them again, the world had stopped spinning.

  Riding behind Martin was nothing like my last time on a motorcycle, when Corbin had taken me to see some of his favorite spots in Paris. I didn’t like Martin, and I sure didn’t trust him. Part of that was because he’d been hired by Henry. Part of it was for reasons I couldn’t articulate. He was competitive, and back before the whiteboard’s disappearance, we’d been neck and neck in closing the highest number of cases.

  Or maybe it was because he used to borrow my comb and didn’t bother cleaning out his long hair after.

  But Rob liked Martin, and Corbin had looked into his background.

  I tried to stifle my paranoid concerns that Martin and Henry might be in contact, that they might be working together. That Martin was a mole, giving Henry all sorts of inside information on me. Because obviously someone had told Henry where my apartment was. Martin could have pulled the info from the employee files…

  No, I had to trust Corbin’s vetting of him. I had to trust Rob’s instincts.

  Because of the direction we were coming from, Conference Inn was before the golf course. I tapped Martin to get his attention and pointed at the inn.

  Martin turned into the parking lot, going slowly, not sure what I wanted. I tapped him again to indicate that he should stop.

  Corbin’s monster SUV wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said as I hopped off the bike and fumbled with the helmet’s chinstrap.

  “What’s the bounty look like? I’ll make sure he doesn’t sneak out on us,” he said, squinting up at me because the sun was overhead.

  “Not necessary.” I tossed the helmet at him.

  My chest felt tight as I jogged toward the small office.

  I guessed that the bald man with the trimmed goatee behind the desk was the one who’d abruptly dismissed me on the phone. I was glad I’d dressed nicely—maybe the skirt plus a smile would earn me some cooperation.

  The entrance was around the side. I ran a hand over my hair, then pushed through the door. The bald man was watching the news on a flat screen television hanging on the wall. Not just any news, either. Politics. The office was ramshackle but not dusty.

  “Hi,” I said, giving him a flirty smile.

  His chair swiveled thirty degrees. “You have a reservation?”

  “Actually, we spoke on the phone. I’m looking for my friend. He gave me the number here, but he didn’t tell me which room he’s in.”

  “Forget it,” the man said.

  “I’m not asking you to give me the room number. I mean, you could call him and tell him I’m here. He’s been trying really, really hard to get in touch with me, and it’s urgent.” I smiled, tilted my head, smiled again.

  The man gave me a long, slow look. He wasn’t checking me out so much as trying to determine if I was full of shit.

  I batted my eyes and tried to look harmless. “His first name is Henry,” I said.

  “You can go now,” he said, apparently having reached a conclusion.

  “This is important. I don’t think my friend will be happy if…”

  The man stood.

  He was enormous. The top of his shiny head was only a few inches from the ceiling. I swallowed and tried not to take a step back.

  “If your friend is here, he’s using an assumed name.” He narrowed his eyes and leaned toward me. “If he’s using an assumed name, it’s because he values his privacy. If he’s so anxious to talk to you, he’ll get in touch again, I’m sure. You can go.”

  “Ok, thanks,” I squeaked. He reminded me of my high school algebra teacher. It wasn’t a pleasant memory.

  If the clerk had been some
random scummy bail skip, I wouldn’t have been intimidated. But I was on his property, he was big, and he was correct: people who stayed in places like this one were either broke or trying to fly under the radar.

  I held up a finger. “If you happen to see a guy in his forties, lean, brown hair and eyes, let him know Audrey stopped by. Oh, did an enormous SUV with dark-tinted windows pass through?”

  “Do you know who’s number one on my speed dial? The cops. You’re trespassing, and I’ve asked you to leave numerous times.” The giant glowered at me. “Do you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear.” I backed up quickly and opened the door so fast that I almost hit myself with it.

  I walked around the corner, then froze.

  Martin was talking to a muscular man in jeans and a tight turtleneck.

  It took my brain an eternity to process the scene, but my thudding heart knew the truth, knew the short-haired man facing away from me.

  I hadn’t seen Henry in months, but it was him.

  Henry Heigh.

  And heaven help me, I suddenly wished Corbin were there, too.

  Chapter 23

  I stood squinting in the sunlight, unsure what to do.

  The man in the office wasn’t going to get involved. Stupidly, I’d left my phone back at Stroop Finders. This was why I didn’t wear a skirt to work—no pockets—but when I’d gotten dressed, I’d thought I’d be spending the day with Corbin.

  Licking my lips, I assessed the situation.

  From the awkward way they were standing, Martin and Henry were both surprised to see each other.

  That was good. It meant Henry hadn’t contacted him. Martin wasn’t the ally I would have chosen, but I needed someone on my side.

  I took a step forward, and Martin shook his head, an almost imperceptible movement. It was still enough to make Henry turn around.

  His face went slack in shock.

  A million different emotions thrashed through me. Terror. Rage. A strange relief that Martin was on my side. And uncertainty about how to handle this, if I should be combative or try to appease Henry.

  Henry and I had been friends, or at least friendly, at one point. I hadn’t been romantically interested in him, but we’d spent hours talking. He’d been a good bounty hunter, or perhaps it was more accurate to say he’d had experience and knew quite a few tricks.

  But Henry Heigh was not a nice person, though he’d fooled me at first.

  Even as he schooled his features into something more neutral, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the awful things he’d done. He’d insinuated himself into Stroop Finders, run up tons of debt, and started taking shortcuts that could have permanently ruined our reputation in the industry.

  As if that wasn’t enough, he’d stalked me for months, making my life a living hell, all under the guise that he was waiting for Corbin Lagos—the biggest bounty on the list—to return so he could catch him. But his obsession had only been partially about Corbin. Then he’d gotten someone to issue a warrant for my arrest, and I’d been forced into hiding.

  And, of course, he’d broken into Rob’s condo with the intention of killing me. It was difficult to put a positive spin on that.

  He was looking around.

  For Corbin.

  And any second now he was going to realize that I was alone.

  My mouth went dry as a malicious smile crept over Henry’s face. He slowly began walking toward me.

  He’d put on weight. Muscle weight, and enough of it to change how he moved. As an incarcerated bounty hunter, it had probably been a survival strategy. It made him look bigger, meaner.

  Well, he was bigger, and maybe it was the hateful glint in his eyes that was making my skin crawl. The way he was stalking toward me set my pulse to hammering wildly.

  If I’d had somewhere to run to, somewhere to hide, I wouldn’t have stayed where I was. But I didn’t have anywhere to go. Conference Inn was on a wide, barren spread of land. The golf course next door wasn’t going to offer any shelter, and a large abandoned lot sat on the other side of the inn. Behind it—not that I could get there quickly—was fallow farmland.

  A gas station and a pawn shop were on the other side of the highway. Both were the sort of establishment where the proprietors kept shotguns under the counters, and where they knew from long experience to shoot first, ask questions later.

  And still Henry advanced.

  “That’s close enough,” I said, my voice strangely steady.

  To my surprise, Henry stopped walking. He spread his fingers, showing me his hands, thickened with calluses but otherwise empty. “Don’t you trust me, Audrey?”

  That made me laugh; I couldn’t help myself. “What are you doing back here?”

  The glint in his eyes became a gleam. “I had some business to take care of.”

  “Well, you’re a fool, Henry, because Corbin is looking for you.”

  Rage blasted across Henry’s face. “Do you think I give a fuck what that asshole wants? He doesn’t control where I go.”

  Oh, god. Any hope I’d had that I could scare Henry into leaving vanished. “Are you insane? It’s like you have a death wish.” I knew I shouldn’t be saying those words in public, even if Martin was the only one within earshot.

  The side door to the office banged open, and the enormous bald man charged out. “There a problem here?”

  “We’re good,” Henry said, his gaze burning a hole into me.

  “I want you gone within two minutes. Go to your room, or go somewhere else, but I can’t have you arguing out here. It’s bad for business.”

  “What business?” Henry scoffed.

  “Make that fifteen seconds,” the man said. His voice was patient, quiet, and it sent chills skittering down my spine.

  Henry jerked his chin toward the rooms. “Let’s go have a chat.”

  I shook my head. “Henry, I came out here to warn you, you fucking idiot. Corbin is—”

  “I’m calling the cops,” the bald man interrupted. “And you’d better hope they show up before I get tired of waiting. One way or another, you’re not staying here.”

  “Wait, wait,” Henry said. “We’re leaving.” To me, he said in a syrupy voice, “Let’s just talk over there.” Over there being the abandoned lot. “You’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

  There it was again, that veiled threat.

  I looked at Martin. He nodded slightly.

  My mind raced through the options.

  Henry wouldn’t be stupid enough to attack me in broad daylight, especially with Martin standing there.

  But if he tried, and if I could convince Martin to come with me to the station to file a complaint and get Henry arrested, even if only for a night or two… It wasn’t a great solution, but it was the only path I could see.

  “Ok,” I said. “Martin comes, too.”

  Henry grinned. “If you want someone to hear what I’m about to say, that’s your call. I wouldn’t advise it, though.”

  His words gave me pause. He was surely referring to Zak.

  I became aware of the bald man pulling out his cell phone.

  Shit. I hated making decisions under pressure; I always managed to do the wrong thing.

  Martin was already walking toward us. After all, I’d called him over, right? It was decided.

  I took several steps back, making an arc so I could keep an eye on Henry.

  The clerk retreated into his office, slamming the door behind him.

  Not far into the lot, I stopped walking. Henry was some twenty feet to my left, and fifteen feet to my right, Martin completed the triangle.

  I became aware of my surroundings: the steady flow of traffic on the road, the clear sky overhead, the buzzing of insects. Underneath my feet, tufts of thirsty grass and weeds shot through the cracked pavement.

  I crossed my arms. Martin’s arms were crossed, too. He was chewing something, and he squinted like he was deep in thought. The wind played with wisps of his long hair. I was happy he was there.<
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  “The problem,” Henry said, “is that my life is here. Not on the other side of the state. When I check in with my parole officer, I have to drive back here. I’m going to testify, and that will be in court here. Are you starting to see my problem?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “All my contacts are here. A man needs to work, needs money. You following me?”

  I nodded slowly. Fuck, but he had an excellent point.

  Maybe that was a good thing. If he was being rational, perhaps this could all be worked out. That was what I told myself, anyway, though there was a bizarre itching through my legs, in my feet… the desire to run.

  But I stayed still because I needed to know what he wanted. “Why were you at my brother’s place?”

  “Looking for you. If his guest room is vacant, maybe I’ll be his next roommate. That’s a nice part of town. Not too urban, not too quiet.” He grinned. “As you may have surmised, I’ve decided to come back. Unfortunately, that means you’ll have to leave.”

  “Aw, man,” Martin said. “Henry, come on. Give the girl a break.”

  I despised being referred to as the girl, but I appreciated Martin’s intervention.

  “You killed Zak,” Henry said, a satisfied grin playing on his lips. He said it nice and loud, too, so Martin wouldn’t miss a word.

  The air became still and heavy. I was aware of Martin looking at me, and I could easily imagine the expression on his face.

  “No,” I said. My mouth felt as dry as if I’d eaten an entire package of saltines. “I didn’t.”

  “Then Corbin did,” Henry said.

  My jaw felt like it was quivering, but I knew it was my imagination. I had to hold it together. “You said one of Zak’s bookie friends had his wallet and stuff.”

  “You know where that breaks down? No body. That dead bookie didn’t have the brain capacity to make someone disappear. Oh, no. I’m going to make sure you go down for murder, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “Henry, she’s no killer,” Martin said. “Whatever happened, she’s got nothing—”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Henry screamed. Cords stood out in his neck as he rounded on his former friend.