by Jax Abbey
“Von Rothschild cares nothing for ethics or the law. Much of his business comes from looting churches and selling items derived from animals. Oh, and grave robbing,” Derek said. “There are also rumors he’s gotten rid of some of his competition, if you know what I mean.”
“Did you know about this?” Finn asked Julian.
“Oh my God—this is the guy who has my sister? He sounds sick! And you want Finn to help him?” Stella chimed in.
“Right now, we’re only going off of the hearsay of informants. We need to catch him actively doing these things. That’s why Finn’s help will be extremely valuable.” Derek turned to Finn. “Are you willing to cooperate with us?”
Finn looked down at his feet and swallowed. He glanced at Julian, whose face remained passive, and at Stella, who sat wringing her hands. Stella and her sister didn’t deserve to be caught up in this mess. He’d gotten them into it, and he’d get them out. “I’ll do it.”
Derek gave a sharp nod. “Excellent. Julian, I need you call von Rothschild now and tell him that you’ve made your decision. Tell him Phoebe must be returned tonight, or you’ll have no choice but to get the police involved. Does this work for everyone?”
Heads nodded all around. Julian dialed a number on his phone, then placed it on the coffee table. The phone rang only once before it was answered.
“Hello, Julian.” Christoph was chipper. “I assume you are calling early because you’ve made your decision.”
“I have,” Julian said. “We accept your deal, on the condition that you release Phoebe to me tonight.”
“How can I do that when you’re all the way in San Antonio, old friend?”
“Don’t worry; I’ll be returning on my plane momentarily. If you don’t release her to me tonight, I’ll have no choice but to alert the authorities.”
Christoph let out a mirthless chuckle. “Oh, Julian, we both know you wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that. But Phoebe will be released into your care, and only your care, when you arrive at my abode.”
“Understood.”
“Good. I’ll expect Gilroy at my door tomorrow morning at nine a.m. sharp. I promise I will shoot him at the first sign of anything amiss,” von Rothschild said briskly. He hung up.
Stella’s head swiveled back and forth between Finn and Derek. “This is CRAZY.”
Derek spread his arms. “Welcome to my life.” He turned to Julian. “Alright, after you pick up Phoebe, bring her to the Leaky Stein, where Stella and I will be waiting in a green Ford pickup behind the building. Does that work for you?”
Julian nodded. Derek turned to Stella. “Does that work for you?”
“I guess it has to,” Stella replied.
Derek glanced at Finn. “Can I speak to you privately?”
What could this loser possibly have to say to me? Finn thought.
He threw Julian a questioning look. Julian returned it with a shrug, and Finn followed Derek into the guest bedroom. He closed the door and crossed his arms, glaring defiantly at Derek. “So?” he said.
Derek quickly crossed the space between them and grabbed Finn by the collar of his shirt. He slammed him against the wall.
“You stay the hell away from Stella,” he hissed, inches from Finn’s face.
“Or what are you gonna do about it?” Finn asked, smirking.
Derek slammed Finn into the wall again. “The only reason I didn’t pummel you into the ground at the fun park was because I didn’t want Stella to know anything.”
“What’s going on in there?” Stella called through the door.
Derek raised his eyebrows at Finn as if daring him to tattle.
Finn was no snitch. “Nothing!” he called back. “Everything’s just fine.” He shoved Derek away and lowered his voice. “Just fucking dandy. So I stay away from Stella, or you do what?”
“I end you,” Derek said, the picture of calm.
Finn sneered at him. “You know she chose me, right? She ended your engagement.”
“According to her, the two of you are nothing. I’ll always believe her word over yours, Gilroy. Always. I’ve known her for almost two years. I know her dreams, her hopes, and her desires. I’ve been there when she’s been sick, and when she’s been upset. You’ve only spent a few days with her. She would never choose you over me—especially with all of the facts.”
“We’ll see about that. We done here?” he asked, not waiting for an answer as he strode to the door and opened it. Stella waited in the hallway with her arms folded.
“What happened in there?” she asked.
Finn stormed past her into the kitchen without speaking. He threw a right hook at the wall, immediately regretting it when the air stung his scraped knuckles and his hand began to throb. The wall was a lot less forgiving than human flesh.
Finn hated not being in control of the situation, and more than that, he hated having to cooperate with that asshole, Derek. He placed his other hand on the counter to steady himself and inhaled deeply.
Stella appeared in the kitchen. Wordlessly, she grabbed a hand towel from a stack on the opposite counter. She opened the freezer, pulled out a handful of ice cubes, and placed them into the towel before twisting it closed and walking over to Finn. She took his bloody hand and pressed the cold compress over it, holding it there with her own.
He glanced at her, and she stared back up at him. Before he knew what was happening, she was closing the distance between them, pressing her lips gently against his. She pulled back after a moment, released Finn’s hands, and hurried from the room. As Finn continued to stare at the space where Stella had stood, he brought his uninjured hand to his mouth and ran a finger over his lips.
STELLA, 4:24 P.M.
Stella rushed back into the sitting room, so lost in her thoughts that she ran directly into Derek’s chest. She looked up guiltily before stepping around him. So much for waiting until she was back in Vegas to deal with her love life. She didn’t know what had possessed her to kiss Finn, and now she felt terrible looking at Derek’s hopeful face.
Stella planted herself in front of Julian. “Where’s my car? Finn said you were sending a tow truck to pick it up.”
Julian looked down at her. “The tire is being replaced.” He paused. “You know, your car is extremely old. It would be my pleasure to buy you a new one—”
“Thank you, but that’s not really necessary,” Stella cut in.
“Well, at the very least, I’ll have it transported back to Las Vegas.”
“There’s no need for that; I can drive it back.”
“Oh…I thought you were going to ride back with Mr. Warner,” Julian said.
“Yeah, you have to be home for Phoebe. If you drive back, it’ll take you a couple days,” Derek said.
Stella bit her lip and frowned. “True. I guess you can have Josie shipped back.”
Finn and Yvonne came back into the living room, Finn’s injured hand still wrapped in the towel. Stella moved to sit in an armchair and avoided looking at him.
“What happened to your hand?” Julian asked as Finn balanced on the arm of the couch.
Finn shrugged. “Accident.”
“Well, we need to prepare to leave immediately, so get ready to go.”
A tap on her shoulder made Stella jump. She looked up at Derek with a frown.
“We also need to leave,” he said. “We’ve got a chartered plane to take us back to Vegas.”
“I need my bag; it was in the Beetle.” Stella was stalling. She wasn’t looking forward to spending the next few hours in close quarters with Derek. He’d want to talk about reviving their relationship, and she definitely wasn’t in the mood for that.
“I’ll send Davis to fetch your things,” Julian said. “If you all will excuse me. Yvonne?”
Julian exited the room with Yvonne following close behind. Stella, Derek, and Finn sat in uncomfortable silence. Derek leaned against the armchair in which she sat, as if he were her protector. Maybe he sensed what had just happened in t
he kitchen? Stella looked over at Finn, who was gazing off into space, his injured hand resting on his thigh. She sighed.
Yvonne returned to the living room with a first aid kit. Stella and Derek watched as she sat next to Finn on the couch and unwrapped the hand towel. Three of the knuckles on his right hand were swollen and bloodied. Yvonne took a bottle from the kit, poured some of its contents onto a cotton ball, and then swabbed it across Finn’s knuckles.
“Ouch!” he screeched, pulling backward. Derek snorted.
“Hold still. You’re worse than my grandchildren,” Yvonne chastised.
Derek cleared his throat. “Let’s figure out where your bag is and split.”
Julian re-entered the living room wearing his sunglasses and holding his briefcase. “Davis is on his way up with your bags. As soon as Yvonne is done, Jacob and I will leave.”
Derek nodded. “Stella and I will leave twenty minutes later.”
“Why twenty minutes?” Stella asked.
“If there’s anyone watching—and we’re pretty sure von Rothschild has eyes on Julian—we don’t want them to know that we’re linked,” Derek explained.
“Gotcha,” Stella said.
A knock sounded at the door. Yvonne answered it and accepted Finn and Stella’s baggage. Finn rose and stalked over. He snatched the bags from Yvonne and brought Stella’s to her, dropping it at her feet.
“I guess this is it,” he said, locking eyes with her. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome,” Stella said. “I guess I’ll see you around the Leaky Stein.”
Finn started to shove his hand in his pocket, then seemed to remember it was injured. “Yeah, maybe.” He glanced at Derek. “This wire business…?”
“My team member, Cameron, will arrive at your condo tomorrow morning promptly at seven a.m. to outfit you with a wire.”
“That’s really fucking early.”
Derek shrugged. Finn glared at Derek a moment longer, then turned to Julian. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
Julian, Yvonne, and Finn left the apartment without another word. Finn didn’t even spare a backward glance at Stella. She was irked by it, but had bigger problems to worry about.
Derek pushed himself off the armchair and sat on the couch. “So,” he said.
“What did you say to him earlier?” Stella asked.
“Why does it matter? As soon as we get a hold of Phoebe, you’re out of this.”
“Because I want to know, Derek. You can’t have a say in who I’m friends with, or prohibit me from doing anything. I’m a grown woman. And we’re not married.”
“Stella—”
“And even if we were, it still wouldn’t be acceptable. You know, ever since you showed up in Texas, you haven’t done yourself any favors. I don’t like what I’m seeing in you. Don’t try and pull any big man stuff with Finn; treat him like you do everyone else.”
“I’m just trying to keep you safe. These guys—Beckham and von Rothschild—are major power players in the art crime world. They’ve built multimillion-dollar empires and have some serious resources at their disposal. You don’t want to get tangled up in this.”
Stella held up a hand. “I got it! Finn equals bad. Julian equals bad. But again, who I associate with is my choice, and mine alone.”
“I totally understand that, Stella, I really do. But I’ve been your partner for a year and a half, and it’s not so easy for me to just let you go. I don’t know why it’s so easy for you,” Derek snapped, standing and throwing his hands up.
Stella stood also and reached out a hand. “Derek—”
“You know what—I should probably call the pilot and see how things are looking for takeoff. I’ll be back.” He marched to the balcony doors.
Stella dropped her head into one hand and squeezed her temples.
Phoebe, 6:28 p.m.
Marc threw open the door to the room and Phoebe jolted awake. She had been dozing, but the evil grin on his face put her on high alert.
Oh shit, she thought, this is the end. They’re going to kill me and chop my body into tiny, itty-bitty pieces and scatter it across the desert, and then vultures will dive down from the sky—
“Come on,” he said gruffly, no longer making an attempt at light-heartedness. He brandished a pair of heavy-duty scissors. “It’s time to go.”
Go where? Phoebe wanted to scream. Would her parents ever find out what happened to her? God, if you get me out of this, I will be a model human being. I’ll give up smoking. I’ll give money to every homeless person I see. I’ll help little old ladies cross the street.
He cut through the zip ties that bound her to the chair and lifted her by the upper arm, propelling her toward the door.
Should I fight? No, he’ll be expecting that. I’ll just play along and pretend I’m too tired to do anything.
It really wasn’t that far from the truth. And then, when he least expected it, BAM! She’d have the advantage of surprise. Time to call on those drama club skills again.
Phoebe stumbled and went limp, as if too weak to walk. Marc’s brow furrowed as he jerked her to her feet. “What’s wrong with you?”
Phoebe lazily fluttered her eyes and let herself be led down the hall. At the top of the stairs, Marc ripped the tape from her mouth. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “For old times’ sake,” he said.
Instead of maneuvering her toward the fussy living room where he had taken her before, Marc pushed her toward the entrance of the mansion. Phoebe tensed. Christoph, the old bald guy, stood just before the door, talking to another old guy who looked like a much older version of Will. He had to be Will’s father. What was he doing here?
“He doesn’t want to see you,” Christoph was saying as Phoebe and Marc arrived in the foyer. His eyes lit on her. “Ah, here’s the woman of the hour.”
Phoebe eyed both of the men warily; the air around them almost crackled with energy. She wasn’t restrained, and her mouth wasn’t taped up. This was new. Were they letting her go?
Will’s dad stepped forward. “Miss Carstens?”
Phoebe hesitated. “Yeah?”
“I’m Julian Beckham,” he said with a formal little bow. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. I’m here to take you to your sister.”
In those stranger danger lectures her parents had given her, they’d always warned her not to let someone take her from one location to another. After all, look what happened with Will. Who was to say this guy actually was who he said he was? Maybe he was trying to lull her into a false sense of security and then kill her.
Phoebe narrowed her eyes. “Why should I trust you? This one kept me tied to a chair,” she said, jerking a thumb at Christoph.
“She’s a ray of sunshine, isn’t she?” Marc said.
“That will be all, Marc,” Christoph said, cutting his eyes at the man. Marc’s gaze slid to Phoebe and he lifted the corner of his mouth before hulking away.
“I could leave you here, if you like,” Julian said lightly. He turned toward the door.
Phoebe scrambled after him. “No way you’re leaving me behind.”
Julian looked over his shoulder and gestured for Phoebe to exit before him. “Christoph, I’ll be in touch.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he replied, his smile displaying a mouth full of dingy yellow teeth. “I hope you enjoyed your stay, Ms. Carstens. Do come back.”
Phoebe grunted and picked up her pace. She fought her inclination to dive into the back of the waiting black town car and instead poked a cautious head inside to look for Stella.
She straightened and regarded Julian with suspicion. “Where’s Stella?”
“She’s flying in from Texas to meet us at…the Leaky Stein Ale House.” Julian’s face puckered as he pronounced the name of the bar. He gestured at the car. “I promise you’ll come to no harm.”
Phoebe twisted toward Julian. “Texas? She’s been in Texas while I’ve been held hostage by that loony cue ball? UGH.”
&nbs
p; Phoebe hesitated a moment longer, then climbed into the backseat. Julian scooted in after. She didn’t exhale until she felt the car begin to glide away.
“She’s very concerned about you,” Julian said, looking Phoebe over. “Are you hurt?”
Phoebe shook her head. “Just my pride,” she muttered. “How do you know my sister?”
“She’s been assisting one of my employees.”
That didn’t tell Phoebe much, but she didn’t think the man was going to confide in her, so she changed subjects. “This is a sweet car and you’ve got a driver. What do you guys do? Computers? You can make a lot of money in computers.”
A ghost of a smile flitted across Julian’s face. “Most definitely not computers. We work with fine art and antiques.”
As Julian rambled on about the types of antiques he specialized in, Phoebe tuned him out and watched the desert landscape fly by. After he finished his spiel, she turned back toward him.
“So, you’re Will’s dad?”
Julian nodded.
“Your kid’s an asshole.”
Julian let out a throaty laugh. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so. You’re blunt.” He paused. “I like it.”
Stella, 8:45 p.m.
Stella and Derek sat behind the Leaky Stein in his pickup truck, waiting for Julian to show up with Phoebe. The flight home was silent and awkward—reminiscent of their first date. She knew Derek wanted to talk to her, but all she’d been able to think about was Phoebe. She was really sorry she hadn’t made more of an effort to spend time with her sister this summer. Now, she gazed out of the passenger window and twirled a few strands of hair.
“You know she’s fine, right?” Derek said. Startled out of her thoughts, Stella turned and looked at him. “If she’s not, I’ll bring the wrath of the FBI down on their heads.”
“Thanks…I know you will,” she replied. She took a breath. “I’m really sorry for being so harsh earlier. This has been a…stressful situation to say the least, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior. I really do appreciate all you’ve done.”
Derek stared ahead through the windshield, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Sorry for putting the tracker on your car—I admit I was out of line with that. Can you just answer me this: Do you care about him?”