“What?” Leander said.
“How can that be possible? I just talked to him the day before yesterday.” Chayton couldn't believe what he was hearing. Espinosa, dead? Hell, Kate's entire staff as well?
“What happened?” Mattias asked, face a mask of concern.
“No one knows. One of the groundsmen came back after a few days off and that's what he found. Most were gunned down as if they'd been running away from their assailant, but Mister Espinosa—he was clearly executed. All the security cameras were disabled and didn't record anything but static.” Waya looked displeased to be passing the news on.
“That bastard,” Chayton's curse was more breath than sound. He knew exactly who the responsible party was.
“Anton found out she hired the lawyer and took him out before a case could be brought against him,” Mattias said, as if reading Chayton's mind.
“And if Espinosa was the only one with clear execution wounds, then they probably tortured Kate's whereabouts out of him.” Chayton felt sick. Now Kate was out there somewhere, alone, probably unaware that Anton had her location pinned down.
“It appears this Anton was a lot more desperate than anyone realized. Except, perhaps, Kate,” Waya said.
“We have to find her before he does,” Chayton said. He wasn't looking at his father any longer, but Mattias and Leander.
“I didn't call the police before I came, but you should--”
Chayton cut his father off. “No police. Not yet. They're where they need to be—taking care of the crime scene in New York. There's nothing they can do here except ask me questions I can't answer.”
“What do you expect to do, then?” Waya asked with a frown.
“Use my own resources.” Chayton couldn't explain, couldn't tell his father about his connections with the Royal Elite. He couldn't tell him that he too had killed men, even if it was in self defense.
“Chayton, this has become more dangerous than you realize. Call the police, let them get their detectives involved and find the evidence to convict this Anton person,” Waya said. “You're legally married to this woman. If he finds her and kills her, then he'll come after you next.”
“She's useless to him dead, at least until he gets what he wants from her. Right now, the focus has to be Kate.” Chayton led the way from the office after grabbing a few things from the top drawer of his desk.
Mattias and Leander followed, pausing to lightly touch Waya's shoulder as a hello-goodbye gesture.
“Chayton!” Waya said, raising his voice. He stepped out of the office.
Chayton didn't look back. He led Leander and Mattias out of the house and into a parked SUV in the drive.
“All right,” Chayton said as he jammed keys into the ignition and turned the engine over. “Pull out all the stops. We have to find Kate now.”
Chapter Fourteen
Kate stared at the English muffin with equal parts hunger and nausea. She wanted to eat, but her stomach rumbled warnings that kept her from putting even one bite in her mouth. Tossing the muffin down on a napkin, she wiped her hands off and drew in a deep breath. Yesterday she'd suffered the same stomach upset, and she knew it had to do with how long it was taking Espinosa to bring Anton to justice. She hadn't heard from her lawyer in four days, the longest he'd been out of contact during the month she'd spent at the hotel.
Perhaps it meant Espinosa had all the evidence he needed and was at court, filing charges. The waiting was becoming nearly intolerable as the investigation dragged on, though she had to give it to Espinosa—she'd been safe here as he'd promised. Bored, but safe. Her routine consisted of daily swim sessions, a round in the gym, scouring the news and waiting for Espinosa to call.
With every day that passed, Kate expected less and less to find information through the news about Chayton. If it hadn't been posted by now, the media had probably been sidestepped by the powerful Black family who didn't want their son's demise blasted all over the television. It pained her not to know when his funeral had been, or where he was buried.
Once, and only once, she'd packed all her things with the intent to leave the hotel against Espinosa's advice and finish the long drive to Montana. Reality set in before she ever set foot outside her own door, and she'd unpacked once more.
Rising from the small table, she paced to the window to look out over the landscape. Nothing had changed from the last time she'd stared over the manicured hedges and carefully groomed rows of pansies several floors below.
Another wave of nausea struck and she straightened from her lean against the sill. Fingers against her lips, she felt sick enough that she fled to the bathroom and snapped the light on. Kate hated throwing up as much as she hated peas. She would do anything to avoid it, like splashing water on her face and swallowing convulsively until the fit passed.
Which she did.
Water splashed up onto her flushed cheeks with the help of her hands, droplets raining down onto the counter. A few dotted the pink tee shirt she wore. Maybe she was getting the flu. The nausea was considerable, enough to keep her there at the sink, and though she felt the urge to heave, she refused to give in until the very last second.
With a sudden jolt, Kate wondered what the date was. She'd been so caught up in her routine and waiting, that she hadn't paid close enough attention to the passage of time. Staring at herself in the mirror, slow realization dawned. The date on the morning's news paper swam through her mind, cementing the knowledge that she was late for her period. Only a few days, but still. Late.
And now she was sick to her stomach.
It couldn't be. Could it?
Was she pregnant?
Memories of her night with Chayton surfaced, so many weeks past, and she choked on a sob. They hadn't used any protection, and she hadn't been with another man in more than a year. It could only be his.
Splashing her face again, she shut the faucet off, dabbed a towel over her face, and left the bathroom. The nausea would have to take a backseat to her sudden and intense curiosity. Sliding her feet into sandals, she grabbed enough money to cover the cost of a pregnancy test and departed the room.
Unfortunately, the hotel wasn't of the caliber that boasted shops on the main level, which forced her to leave the property entirely. Espinosa didn't want her exposed in public, but this was too important to put off. She kept her head down and walked at a brisk pace across the street, past a little park, a library and into the gas station parking lot. The relatively early hour meant there were few cars pulled up in front of the pumps, and even fewer parked along the curb before the doors.
Kate entered, a trio of bells jingling to announce her presence. Finding the correct aisle, she sorted through the limited array of pregnancy tests, choosing two different brands of the 'early detection' variety. After paying at the counter, cheeks flaming for the not-so-discreet looks the middle aged cashier threw her, Kate took her purchases back to the hotel.
Fighting off another bout of nausea, she locked herself in her room and headed straight to the bathroom. With shaking fingers, she withdrew a box and read the instructions. For a full half hour, she paced the bathroom tiles, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Several times, tears stung the back of her eyelids at the unfairness of it all. If she would have just stayed in the beach house in Hawaii, none of this would have happened. Over and over and over she'd lamented the decision to offer Anton a buy-out, never dreaming he would do what he'd done.
Finally, she went through the motions with both tests. She set the oblong sticks onto the countertop for three minutes, a necessary requirement to get proper results. Kate found she couldn't sit still and made relentless circuits of the room, fidgeting with her shirt, with the bedspread, with a pamphlet on the table.
What would she do if the tests came back positive? It was more important than ever to see Anton put behind bars, so that he couldn't threaten any child that might be on the way. Kate decided to return home immediately following Anton's arrest and begin preparations.
&nb
sp; If.
If she was pregnant.
Creeping into the bathroom after the allotted time ticked by, she stepped up to the counter and took a deep breath. Tucking wayward strands of hair behind her ears, she glanced down at the tests. Sitting side by side, the results were easy to read. And both results were the same.
Pregnant.
. . .
Espinosa and White's law offices, located in Las Cruces New Mexico, were the epitome of class and modern architecture. The three story glass and steel building sat a mile from downtown on the corner of its own block, with a parking lot to the left and manicured hedges and walkway to the right. A sign overhead proclaimed the names Espinosa and White, the smoked glass doors decorated with stickers of the same.
Chayton opened the door for Mattias and Leander, then followed inside just as the last rays of a dying sun dipped below the horizon. A broad foyer opened up beyond the entrance, with hallways and staircases and a single elevator giving clientele options depending on what floor they needed.
To the right, a brunette woman stood behind a gently curved information desk, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
“Miss Amanda White?” Leander asked, veering their steps her way.
Earlier, after leaving his home with Mattias and Leander, Chayton had called Espinosa's office and spoke to a secretary who just happened to be Espinosa's personal assistant. Amanda, daughter to Espinosa's partner in the firm, had agreed to wait past closing to speak with them.
“Yes, yes. Hello.” She came around the desk and extended a hand to each man. Her red rimmed eyes met theirs directly and without hesitation as they shook through introductions.
“Thanks for staying late to see us,” Chayton said, once the introductions were through. “We just need a little of your time.”
“Of course. I've already gone over all this with the police, but I understand you were a personal acquaintance of Robert's.” Dressed in a subdued business suit of navy blue, Amanda appeared and acted the consummate professional even in a time of crisis. She gestured toward a sitting area adjacent to the information desk.
Chayton declined to sit, although Leander and Mattias took positions on the edge of one of four leather sofas.
“Yes, I am a personal acquaintance. He came to see me a couple of weeks ago in regard to my wife's case,” Chayton said.
Amanda perched on the edge of another sofa, knees pressed primly together. Twisting a tissue in her fingers, she glanced between men. “Fairchild, yes?”
“Yes. Do you know anything about the case?” Chayton asked, cutting to the chase. He knew detectives had already gone through Espinosa's belongings and talked to the staff. Chayton was looking for something else. Something more.
“Just that he'd been working hard on it for a while, and that he wanted to do all the investigating himself. He didn't want the Fairchild name spread around more than it had to be.”
“Did you ever happen to talk to Kate yourself?”
“No. Robert—Mister Espinosa wouldn't allow anyone else to contact the client.”
“We've come to understand that he also kept her whereabouts a secret, but we need to know where she's staying. I realize he did so for her own safety at first, and I commend his caution. Right now, after what's happened, I'm concerned for Kate's life.” Chayton strolled behind the sofa Leander and Mattias sat on, sliding his hands into his pockets to keep the restlessness at bay.
“I'd like to help you. Really I would. Except he never told me where she was staying.” Amanda gestured helplessly with a hand.
“Did he leave town whenever he went to see her?” Leander asked, picking up the line of questioning.
“I think so.”
“You think?” Chayton asked.
“He never explicitly mentioned when he was going to see her. It wasn't like with his other clients, where I made all the appointments and set things up myself. He was pretty secretive about Kate. The reason I think he left town was his absence a couple of weeks ago that went unexplained. He simply left the office one morning and didn't come back until the next day.”
“Did he keep a personal itinerary?” Leander asked.
“Yes, but the police took it.”
Chayton bit back a curse. Rubbing his chin, he stared at the floor as he walked, thinking over alternatives to getting the information.
“And he never mentioned another city or state in passing?” Mattias asked.
“Nothing that rings out of order with me.”
“Is there any way to check his business account receipts? Surely he kept those for expenses,” Mattias added.
“The police took most everything from his desk—wait.” Amanda paused, frowning.
“What?” Chayton stopped pacing and faced the secretary. He held his breath that she'd remembered something the police hadn't gotten their hands on.
“The accountant. She enters all the receipts onto a program, and I don't think they took her computer.”
“Can you call her?” Chayton asked.
Amanda rose from the seat and headed back to the information desk. “Just give me a moment. I'll see if she can pull it up from home.”
Chayton led Mattias and Leander to the desk, standing on the opposite side while Amanda made her call. He studied Amanda's face as she asked a woman named Clarice about Robert's expenses for the last two weeks. Several locations came up that Amanda dismissed out of hand, mentioning they belonged to other clients.
“Wait, what was that last one?” Amanda said. She picked up a pen and jotted something on a piece of note paper.
It was all Chayton could do not to lean over and read what she wrote. He bided his time, shoulders tense with the idea that they might possibly have their first lead.
“And the hotel? Is it in the same city?” Amanda jotted something else down. “Were there any other trips to that location? No? Okay, that should do it, thanks.” Hanging up the phone, Amanda ripped the note paper off the pad and handed it across the desk to Chayton. “I don't recognize this location as being from any of his other clients, and it ties in with the timeline of when he was gone but didn't say where he was going. He flew there, stayed one night at this hotel, and returned early the next morning.”
Chayton took the paper and flipped it around.
Illinois. If Amanda was right, Chayton would find Kate holed up in a hotel in Illinois.
“Thank you. Very much.” Chayton showed the note to Mattias and Leander, and after a quick round of goodbyes, departed Espinosa's office.
Now they just needed to get to Kate before Anton.
Chapter Fifteen
Kate spent the rest of the day wandering around in a haze. Pregnant. And Chayton would never know. Never get to see his child's face, or cradle the baby in his arms. Several times she teared up over it, and promised herself that as soon as Espinosa got a restraining order or put Anton behind bars, that she would call Chayton's family to tell them. It wasn't fair for them not to know they had a grandchild from their late son.
And it would change her whole life. Even now she could feel a shift inside, making plans for a future that included more than just her.
After an early eat-in dinner of roasted chicken and vegetables, she stood near the window, hoping against hope that Espinosa would call. The late afternoon sun shined with less brightness across the desert landscape and made steep shadows next to the cars in the parking lot below. She'd been there perhaps fifteen minutes, lost in thought, when a trio of men emerged from a white sedan that parked in the last row. She wasn't sure what made her distant gaze focus in—maybe it was motion in general, or the glint off a pair of sunglasses—on the gentlemen, but a moment later, she gasped with alarm.
Anton. There was no mistaking his wayward dark hair or the hook in his nose. His gait was that of a man hell bent on a mission, which was typical where Anton was concerned. Dressed in a suit, as were his henchmen, he gave off the air of someone important and of means.
Spinning on a heel, Kate dashed for her purse
and her keys. She stuffed a few clothes into her bag, leaving the rest, and all but flew out the door of the hotel room.
Forced to go on the run with little notice, just like the last time, she headed for the back staircase instead of the elevator. Counting off how much time it would take Anton to convince the hotel clerk to give him her room number, and the ride up in the elevator, she figured she had perhaps eight minutes to make a clean get away.
Thank God she'd been staring out the window. If not, Anton would have had her cornered in her room.
Descending with as much speed as she dared, the bag banging against her hip, Kate hit the back door and darted out into the waning daylight. It was a risk to run to her car, which was parked several rows over from the white sedan in the same lot, but she had no choice. The car was her best chance of escape.
At the driver's door, she fumbled the keys and nearly dropped them.
“C'mon, Kate. C'mon',” she whispered. Finding the right key, she slid it into the lock and opened the door.
“Hey!”
Kate didn't so much as glance in the direction of the shout. Anton must have left one of his henchmen outside. Starting the Camaro with a roar, she reversed out of the parking space, almost clipping the thigh of a man who was suddenly right there at her window.
“Hey!” He banged a fist on the window and grabbed for the door handle.
Kate reversed faster, wheeling around so far that she almost hit the car behind her. Jamming the car into gear, she shot forward, leaving the henchman running after her bumper.
Periphery picked up two more men—Anton and his other accomplice—dashing out the doors of the hotel.
Damn. Damn.
This wouldn't give her nearly the head start she needed. Turning onto the street with a screech of tires, she stomped the gas and shot away from the parking lot. Just as she took a left turn—against the light, God help her—she saw the white sedan shoot out of the lot in the rearview mirror, fishtailing as it roared onto the road.
Chayton Page 14