“I don’t work for the Devereauxs anymore,” she warned. “If you piss me off even a little bit, I’m out of there.”
“I knew you’d see things my way.” Judging from his cocky tone, he said that a lot. “I’ll inform the doorman and you can come right on up. I’m on the sixty-third floor.”
No need to tell her where. He lived in Farrell Tower. She glanced in the mirror at her still wet hair and makeup-free face. At this time of day, it would only take her a twenty-minute cab ride. “I’ll be there in an hour.” She’d be damned if she was going to rush over for him.
Walter hung up without so much as a “see you soon,” and Cali shook her head. Crazy rich people. Speaking of crazy rich people, she found Rourke’s temporary phone number in the contacts and put the call through. She knew he probably wouldn’t want to answer, but considering the precarious situation she was in with Easson, she wanted to assume he would rather keep her safe than protect his ass from her anger.
He didn’t let her down. “Good morning,” he said after the first ring. “I hope you had a chance to sleep in.”
“That tends to happen when the guy you’re sleeping with sneaks out on you.”
“Colin and I got the rental records from the apartment Easson had that we found yesterday. He wanted some backup to go with him.”
“Backup? He really doesn’t have any friends he can call?” Not that Colin seemed like the type to have lots of friends, but couldn’t he have at least a few buddies who weren’t her boyfriend?
“It’s no big deal. I’ll be back in a few hours, safe and sound. Promise.”
“If it’s no big deal, he wouldn’t need backup,” pointed out Cali. “But, I’ll accept that I’m not going to get you to change your mind as long as you accept that I don’t appreciate being blatantly ignored.”
“And I fully expect to pay for it later.”
“Well, Walter Farrell just called and he wants me to come over to his place to talk about Easson.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I’d think his place is one of the safest locations in the city. I’d ask you to escort me, but...”
“I get it. I get it. Take a cab, not the subway. Have Farrell send a car to take you back. Or, you know, don’t go.”
“And pass up the chance to figure out why Walter Farrell’s panties are in a twist? I don’t think so. They say knowledge is power for a reason.”
“You can take the girl out of the corporate gladiator pool, but can’t take the corporate gladiator pool out of the girl.”
“Something like that. But you don’t want to get this corporate gladiator on your bad side. Come back to me tonight in one piece, you got it?”
“Got it. I’ll be calling you every half an hour on the dot, so you better be answering your phone.”
She wanted to tell him where he could take that overprotective caveman attitude, but she didn’t mind having someone checking up on her. “Fine.”
“I’ll make this up to you tonight,” said Rourke in a low voice. “You can count on it.”
“Is that right?”
“I’d tell you more, but Carter is giving me the evil eye. I better get going.”
Cali laughed at the visual of a disgusted Colin. “Talk to you later.” She hung up. She frowned as she looked at the phone in her hand. Should she have said I love you? Damn, she was new to this whole relationship thing. He didn’t say the three words either, but she’d hung up too fast.
All the more reason for her not to spend all day holed up alone in the hotel room.
She’d never get sick of riding a private elevator. So much easier than having to make awkward chitchat with some stranger while carrying five bags of groceries.
Except, this time, instead of opening into a modern, minimalist apartment like Luke’s, it opened into pure opulence. With no Walter waiting for her.
Kind of strange considering that even though he’d told the doormen to expect her, he’d needed to press the button to call the elevator up.
“Walter!” shouted Cali as she stepped inside the apartment. “I can’t stay long. Just tell me what you found!” The apartment was much more decadent than she ever would’ve expected. Somehow, even though she’d known how rich Walter was, she never thought his taste would be so...tacky. A rich tacky, but tacky nonetheless.
The walls were all painted rich, dark colors, and the walls were filled with display cases and ornately framed artwork. It was completely different than the tasteful way Rourke decorated his home.
“Walter?” she called again, this time a lot more hesitantly. She stopped as she entered the dining room. If she went any farther, she’d lose sight of the door, and considering how creeped out she was, if Walter didn’t show himself in the next ten seconds, she was out of here. If Walter really had something to show her, he would’ve been there to greet her.
She started to back away, looking around her for any sign of movement, listening for any threat. A chill ran up her spine as she took another step. Something wasn’t right. Her hand snuck into her purse, trying to find her phone.
Even though the door was only a few feet away, somehow that distance seemed much farther as the silence in the room sunk in even further. That was it. She was getting out of here.
Though she knew she might be overreacting, Cali twisted and ran for the door, but she never got there. A steel band of an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her against a steel chest. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand covered her mouth as she was pulled back, away from the door.
She kicked as hard as she could against the hard body, but his grip didn’t falter. In just seconds, she couldn’t see the door anymore. Her hope seemed to flutter out more and more as she was dragged farther away.
A second later, the man carrying her kicked open a side door and threw her into a dark room. She landed in a painful heap on her shoulder and hip and shuffled to get her hands and feet beneath her, needing to have some sort of solid footing.
The floor beneath her fingers was hard and cold...some sort of tile. Her hip throbbed from where she’d landed, but she twisted around to face the stranger, forcing herself to ignore the pain.
Silhouetted against the light of the living room was such a familiar and terrifying face. “Easson,” she breathed.
His lips twisted in a smile. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”
She took a nervous gulp and pushed herself up slowly until she stood in front of him. In order to get out of the apartment, she’d have to get past him. Which meant she’d need a weapon or some sort of distraction, neither of which was close at the moment. “Why can’t you let me go?” She wished her voice didn’t crack. She tried to think of Rourke. He wouldn’t be scared of Easson. He’d fight.
Hell, she wasn’t the one to back down from a fight normally either. Just she was more used to dealing with less physical arguments.
“I had one more job to do before I was gone. You had to get involved, didn’t you?”
She thought back to her dates with Easson. Her weekend alone with him. Everything seemed different now. His posture was straighter and threatening. His voice was sharp and harsh. Hammering home just how much he’d been using her.
“I don’t want to be involved with any of this,” she insisted.
“You started everything!” he snapped. “If you hadn’t told that FBI bitch about me, I would’ve been gone without any of this trouble. But then you had to complicate it.”
Cali shook her head, trying to convey as much innocence as possible. “No. That’s not what happened. She knew your name and I just mentioned I was seeing you. I had no idea who you were until she told me.” She bit her tongue at the need to tell him just how much of an ass she thought he was. This probably wasn’t the best time to piss off the crazy man in front of her.
Except he didn’t seem crazy. He seemed calm and collected and angry. At her.
He pointed a finger at her. “Stay there. I have one more thing to get done and I
’ll figure out what to do with you then.” With that, he turned and slammed the door shut behind him, sealing her inside the pitch black room.
Cali let out a sigh of relief. At least he hadn’t killed her right away.
Her hands reached out, trying to get a feel of the room around her. She tentatively stepped forward until her fingers touched a wall. Okay. Now she had to move carefully, map the room and call someone. Call someone! Her phone was in her purse, and her purse was strewn about somewhere in the other room.
A fresh new wave of fear hit her. If she couldn’t call Rourke...call the police...what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t fight off Easson on her own. She couldn’t run faster than him. How quickly had he come out from nowhere to grab her just now? She was out of her league and probably very much outgunned.
Cali forced herself to focus. So maybe her odds weren’t good, but she definitely wouldn’t make it out alive if she didn’t try. She forced herself to go into that little corner of her mind where there were no emotions. No fear or worry or thoughts of what-ifs. Only action. Learn the room. Find a weapon. Right now, that was all she could think about.
She started to make her way around the border, crossing past the door (which didn’t open). She thought this was a dining room, so she doubted the doors locked. More likely something blocked the door.
After a few minutes she found a light switch, but it didn’t do a damn thing. So far, she'd located a few dishes—probably fine china, but she didn’t care at this point—and some chairs. Besides that, nothing else seemed loose and light enough for her to pick up and swing.
But the plates were promising because those could become sharp very easily. She cautiously made her way back around to the built-in shelves that contained the display of dishes. Once there, she felt around until she found a larger dish, probably a serving platter, and lifted it, letting it drop onto the hard floor.
The sound of porcelain breaking punctured through the quiet room, making her shudder. Would Easson come to investigate? He couldn’t have just left her here, could he?
Without waiting to find out, Cali carefully knelt, feeling around for a large shard she could use. All there seemed to be was short, sharp pieces. No. There had to be at least something that could fit in the palm of her hand and do some sort of damage.
Now both hands felt around as she inched deeper into the room, next to the table.
That’s when her hand hit it. Not part of a plate. This was soft. The silky fabric of clothing...a man’s suit, from the feel of it. And judging by how cold it was, the man had been dead for a while.
“Would you please stop looking at that damn phone,” snapped Carter. “I get it—you two are couple of the year, but I don’t have time for this.”
Rourke shot Carter a sarcastic smile as he pushed away from the borrowed desk at the Farrell corporate offices. “She didn’t answer her phone.” He’d called her every half an hour exactly, and she’d answered the first two times without issue. But now it kept going to voice mail.
“She’s with Walter,” said Carter. “That place is more protected than Fort Knox. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Then call your boss. At least if he answers I’ll feel better.” And if he didn’t, Rourke was getting the hell out of this dusty old office. Cali had been worried about him getting in trouble, but he was far more likely to die of boredom. Now that they had the alias Easson Harper had been using to rent out his secret apartment, they were seeing anywhere else that alias had been around the city, using the connections of the corporate office and Colin’s less savory associates to help.
So by backup, Carter meant an intern. But if it got them closer to getting Easson Harper as far away from Cali as possible, Rourke was game.
“Walter takes your calls, right?”
“Walter always takes my calls when we’re in crisis mode.”
If anything counted as crisis mode, it was probably this. “Then call him. Now.”
Carter pushed away from the computer he was at and pulled out his phone, pressing the screen a few times. He held the phone to his ear and then scowled. “He didn’t answer.”
“Fuck. Call him again.” Even as Colin redialed, Rourke started to pack up. He wasn’t going to sit around one more second.
“Who is this?” asked Colin into the phone.
Rourke froze in place. Was someone else answering Walter’s phone? He leaned in close to Colin so he could hear the other half of the conversation.
“Give me the code to the safe right now or Walter is no longer going to be your boss.”
“Walter doesn’t give me safe codes, Harper.” Carter met Rourke’s eyes to let him know who he was talking to.
Rourke’s blood went cold. Cali was supposed to be with Walter, and Harper was answering Walter’s phone. “Ask about Cali,” he whispered.
Carter grimaced and turned so he faced away from Rourke. “Give me a few hours and I can dig around Walter’s office and see if I can find anything.”
“You text me your best guess in ten minutes or your boss is dead.”
Carter slammed the phone on the table and jumped up. “We need to leave now.”
“Do you think Cali’s okay?” Even as he asked the question, he knew how stupid it was. If she were okay, she’d be answering her damn phone.
“I don’t know,” said Carter honestly. “But Walter isn’t.”
“Wait, what?”
“If he were alive, Harper wouldn’t be asking me for any safe codes. Let’s just hope that he is keeping your girlfriend as leverage since he wasted his biggest trump card already.”
Cali jumped back and her shoulders slammed into the wall. This wasn’t happening. She needed to find a way out of this room and as far away from random dead guy as possible.
Her only comfort was knowing that Rourke could be on his way over right now. It had to be past the half hour mark, right? But didn’t time always seem to go by slower when you’re having a miserable time? If this didn’t count as miserable, she didn’t know what did.
She heard a smash from the room next to her and she flinched. It sounded as if Easson was angry, and she really didn’t want to deal with a violent man, let alone an angry violent man.
Cali pushed herself up, making sure she kept the large shard of plate firmly in her hand. Except if Easson came in the room and saw all the other broken pieces, he’d know she had a weapon. She hastily tucked her large shard in the back pocket of her jeans as she swept the smaller ones under the dining room table. It wasn’t the best hiding spot, but he probably wouldn’t be looking too hard. Besides, she couldn’t see well enough to see whether there was a better place to sweep the debris.
Right as she was feeling around for any debris she might’ve missed, light filled the room. Cali jumped up to face Easson, who stood in the doorway. “I see you found Walter,” he muttered dispassionately.
“You’re the one who locked me in a room with him.” Cali winced as she said it. She should be more focused on groveling for her life right now.
Easson glanced down at the dead man. “If it makes you feel better, it was an accident.”
Now that she could see, it appeared as though Walter didn’t go down in dignity. He was in a bathrobe and pink striped boxer shorts. She’d like to think he would’ve gotten dressed for her visit, so this had to have happened soon after she got off the phone with him. The scariest part was that there wasn’t a single mark she could see.
Which meant she had no idea how Easson killed him.
“It doesn’t make me feel better,” she shot back. And then she remembered that she wanted to be nice in order to buy herself more time. “But I do hope you’re more careful with me,” she added, hoping the softer tone would show him that she wasn’t all pissed off. Even if she was.
Easson stepped away from the door and held a hand out to her. “Come out here. I need to ask you something.”
Cali never thought staying alone in a room with a dead man would seem like a better choice than
anything else, but she was seriously debating asking him to just go back to what he’d been doing.
“Now, Cali.”
There went that idea. She tentatively stepped around the body and made her way to Easson. Maybe this was what walking the plank was like. Knowing you were going to your doom, but not seeing any other option.
As soon as she was within reach, he grabbed her arm and pulled her out, pushing her ahead of him. He shut the door behind her and followed her into the plush living room she’d just been dragged through.
“Turn left,” he ordered.
She halted and looked over her shoulder. “Anywhere in particular?”
“We’re going to the old man’s bedroom.” The shock must’ve shown on her face, because Easson rolled his eyes. “Not for that. Just keep moving.”
“Can’t we just stay here? I’m pretty sure that place is haunted by ghosts of ex-wives past.”
Easson chuckled a bit. “I did miss you.”
That was a good sign! Much less chance of being murdered. “You missed me enough to let me go?”
“Not likely. Keep moving.”
He didn’t have a gun that she could see, but she wasn’t naive enough to think he was unarmed. Though she wasn’t either. With every step, she could feel the sharp broken piece of plate press into her behind. Not that she knew what to do with it. Or when to do something with it. But it was nice to know she had something literally in her back pocket.
She walked gingerly, trying to mask the outline of her weapon through the jeans. These were a looser pair, but she didn’t want to take any chances. Luckily Easson would probably attribute her strange gait to her nerves.
Much too quickly, they’d reached the bedroom, and Easson finally moved past her to where he’d already lifted a portrait of Walter off the wall and onto the floor, exposing a wall safe the size of a large television.
Devereaux Billionaires Complete Series: Books 1-4 Page 66