“Where were you last night?” he asked, passing her the binoculars. “I called five times. We could’ve really used you at the strategy briefing.”
“And I would’ve been there if I knew you’d organized it,” she countered, deflecting the actual question. “We’d already gone over the measures we would be taking.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t have contingencies.”
“So you called a last-minute meeting?”
“You’re avoiding the question,” he pointed out with a cocky smile.
“I was relaxing,” she said, “clearing my head to get focused. I shut my cell off.”
“Why is it that the bigger the job, the harder it is to get in touch with you the night before?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I pick up on these things,” he said. “Hey, it’s none of my business—”
“I’d say.” She held his gaze for a beat, then asked, “Did you come up with a plan B?”
“It’s not foolproof, but it could work.”
“Will it work without us getting arrested?”
Carter held his breath instead of coming out with it, which was enough of an answer. She knew him far too well, and as effective as his proposed strategies seemed to be on paper, she’d had to veto them on more than one occasion for this very reason. Activism was a slippery slope when it came to not breaking the law, and though One World had a stellar attorney, the bottom line was that the group could do more good in the field than by twiddling their thumbs behind bars and waiting for bail to post.
“What’s your idea, Carter?” she pressed.
Setting the stage, he said, “We have to slow them down.”
“Which we’ll do,” she agreed. Their plan had been to show up before the construction employees arrived and chain themselves to the stack of cylinder pipes, but the strategy relied on the employees getting to the site at seven. One World had gotten there at 5:45 a.m. to find Starlight already in position. It had almost been as though the executives of Starlight had seen this coming.
Carter drew in a deep breath and went on. “Layla and I found a container of dynamite at the site—”
“No way—”
“It’s leftover from carving out the trench—”
“Carter, we can’t steal their explosives to use against them—”
“Why? It’s poetic.”
“It’s beyond illegal, not to mention the whole point of this operation is to keep people safe—”
“To keep residents safe against gas leaks, which you know are inevitable,” he corrected.
“Forget it.”
“The piping cylinders are more than twenty yards away from their vehicles.”
“At the moment, but they’re going to move them closer to the trench.”
“Which is why we have to act fast and act now. Layla’s on board.”
Rose glared at him then rolled her eyes. If Carter Simmons was radical in his logic, and he often was, Layla Moser was twice as daring. For a woman barely five-foot-two, Layla seemed ten times her size and never shied away from confrontations, which made for a passionate albeit volatile romance with Carter. Rose hadn’t brought Layla into One World, but had agreed when Carter vouched for her last year. She’d done great work in Michigan to help prosecute a fracking company with a class-action lawsuit thanks to her legal background, but when it came to working in the field, she was undoubtedly a loose cannon.
“You have a better idea?” he challenged.
“Yeah,” she said with a sly smile. “I’m going to talk to them and negotiate.”
“We aren’t in a position to negotiate, because we literally aren’t in position.”
“Hold that thought,” she said, suddenly distracted by Hector, the newest addition to One World, when he held up her purse.
Pacing away from Carter, she walked over to Hector, who was standing in front of their Gatorade table.
“Your phone’s vibrating,” he explained, looking somewhat sheepish to be handling her purse.
She fished for her cell, but as soon as she gripped it, she immediately noticed it felt odd in her hand. It wasn’t until she glanced down at it that she realized it wasn’t hers, and recognized her own cell number flashing across the screen.
Confused, she answered the call.
“Hello?”
His voice came deep and smooth and clear as a bell. “Do you know who this is?”
“I have a pretty good idea,” she said, recognizing the male timbre in her ear. “When exactly did you switch our phones?”
“When I thought I might not see you again.”
“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” It had been, but Rose couldn’t deny she was smiling, rolling her shoulders into a secretive hunch and pacing away from Hector and the team.
“It was,” he agreed. “But I have a better plan.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m going to be in town a few days, maybe a week. It could be fun to get together. That is, if you have time.”
She smiled to herself, staring out at the trench, the bulldozers, the construction workers who were assembling in front of the stack of pipe materials. Shutting down the Starlight Energy Project would be no easy task, and each day could very well cause her stress to go through the roof. An entire community was depending on her and One World to keep Bellevue safe, and straight out of the gate her team had lost the upper hand. Having a mystery man, whose name she’d yet to learn, waiting in the wings for her might not be the worst idea.
“I’ll think about it,” she said finally.
“Think about it?” he asked in a teasing tone. “You mean fantasize?”
“If you want to call it that.”
“At the very least you’ll need your phone back, so why don’t we meet tonight?”
“I don’t know,” she said, taking a brief moment to eye his phone then return it to her ear. “I kind of like this phone.”
“Yeah, so do I.”
She was about to tell him she knew where he was staying and imply she’d swing by at some point, but the sight of Carter and Layla sneaking off towards the construction site and heading in the direction of the stack of pipes caused a jolt of panic to course through her veins.
“I’ll be in touch,” she said quickly, then hung up the phone and tucked it into her back pocket. She jogged after the daredevils. “Are you crazy? Get back here!”
As they reached the trench, Rose trailing after them by ten yards, Layla swung her backpack off her shoulder and dropped to her knees, while Carter pulled explosives out of the sack in a rushed tangle.
Beyond the trench, a number of suited executives stepped out of the corporate trailer, and one of the construction workers who appeared to be the head honcho stalked over to the executives, his construction team following him.
“Oh crap,” Rose said to herself, seeing that the pipes were now unguarded. “Don’t!”
Her voice carried, drawing the executives’ attention, but her gaze was locked on the stick of dynamite in Carter’s hand, towards which Layla was angling a lit lighter.
When in the hell did they even get those sticks? Had Rose been so engrossed in her three-minute call that she hadn’t noticed Carter rush over and get them? Or had he already gotten the explosives when he’d proposed the insane idea?
“Carter, don’t do it!”
But he already was. He pitched the stick into the air, its firecracker wick flaring, and the rest seemed to happen in slow motion—Layla meeting her gaze, Carter scanning the trench, the dynamite stick arching through the air, the executives registering what was going on, the construction workers running for cover, the dynamite touching down, bouncing and rolling towards the stack of pipes.
BOOM!
Rose dropped to her knees, covering the back of her head with both hands, but luckily the explosion only caused the pipes to tumble down, rolling haphazardly across the site and into the trench. They were too heavy to launch into the air. When she lifted her e
yes to survey the damage, it was clear no one was hurt.
“Carter! What have you done?” she demanded, as she ran over and grabbed him by the arm.
Layla was on her feet looking satisfied.
“You’re no good to me if you’re in jail,” she yelled, shifting her gaze from Carter to Layla and back again.”
“We just bought you a day, at least,” said Layla.
“You just bought me a lawsuit I can’t afford.”
As soon as Rose heard sirens blaring in the distance, she knew her life would never be the same.
Chapter Three
“Why haven’t you called the police?” she demanded.
Rose was seated in a chair inside the trailer, staring up at two security guards who only glared at her.
“Where are Carter and Layla?” she asked.
Finally, one of them spoke. “Calm down. You’re lucky you haven’t been arrested.”
“Well, why haven’t I?”
“You will be,” he sneered, “but not until our CEO gives us the go-ahead.”
Rose knew the executives were outside. She could hear them through the trailer’s walls, arguing with the construction team, whose union wouldn’t allow for them to work in an unsafe environment.
When she’d heard the sirens, she’d assumed it was the police rolling in, but apparently the Starlight security team had police equipment, cruisers with sirens and armed guards.
“For what it’s worth,” she said, “I didn’t approve of blowing up your pipes. I tried to stop them.”
“Save it,” said the other guard.
Rose heard a knock on the door, and one of the guards padded over and opened it a crack.
“Mr. Montgomery,” said the guard.
“We need more men apprehending the rebels.”
Rose’s ears perked up when hearing this Montgomery character on the other side of the door.
“She isn’t restrained,” the guard warned. “Are the police coming?”
“I need to keep this quiet and contained,” said Mr. Montgomery, whose voice was strikingly familiar to Rose.
“Is that how your father wants to handle this?”
“My father?” he challenged. “This is my project, and I’ll handle it how I see fit. Now go.”
Rose watched the guard march through the doorway, revealing Mr. Montgomery. Her heart punched in her chest the moment she locked eyes with him. It was the tall, dark, and handsome man who had rocked her world last night. He was just as shocked to see her as she was to find him stepping into the trailer.
He seemed disoriented as he approached, and when he finally tore his eyes off her to address the remaining security guard, Rose thought she caught him smiling.
“I need a word with her alone,” he said.
“But sir, she’s dangerous—”
“Did you check her for weapons?” he challenged.
“Yes, sir, she’s unarmed.”
“Then I’ll be fine. Go.” Mr. Montgomery stopped him when he reached the door. “Don’t call the police and don’t harm the rebels. I need this situation contained. No one finds out about this, understood?”
The guard affirmed that he did, then left, closing the door behind him.
Rose stared at him in disbelief, as he turned, standing with his back to her and his hands on his hips for a long moment. Her gaze traveled the length of his broad shoulders, long back beneath a tailored gray suit. She sensed him shaking his head, but it was nearly imperceptible.
She wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, either, but the fact that he wouldn’t allow his security team to call the police told her he didn’t want this escalating, which meant he might not press charges.
“Montgomery,” she said, touching eyes with him when he glanced over his shoulder at her in response. “Porter Montgomery is—”
“My father,” he stated, shifting to face her and squaring his shoulders off.
“He’s also responsible for the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico last fall,” she said accusingly.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Rose held her head high, stating, “I’m here to stop the pipeline.”
“You can’t stop it. We have the necessarily permits and governmental support. It’s just natural gas, Rose.”
“Just natural gas?” she asked, astonished he’d downplay an energy source notorious for poisoning drinking water as a result of construction projects like this one. “Do you understand there’s a town of over five thousand people less than a mile away from this pipeline? Do you realize their health and the health of their children will be at risk if gas is flowing through a pipe underground mere feet from their water tower?”
“It’s all approved, Rose.”
“Oh you think approval means that it's safe? It isn’t safe.”
He drew in a deep breath, studying her. Then a slight smile spread across his face, which he quickly suppressed.
“This is why you approached me last night?”
“I didn’t know who you were,” she said, nearly interrupting him.
“But in anticipation of today, you thought to blow off a little steam with me?”
“You could say that.”
He took a moment to absorb the irony.
“If you’re not going to arrest us, what are you going to do?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“I didn’t tell them to throw that dynamite,” she said, realizing all the while that more than needing to prove her innocence, she, for some reason, needed him to believe she wasn’t malicious.
“This is a royal mess,” he said, pacing away and plowing his fingers through his thick hair.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she blurted out. “I was planning a peaceful demonstration to slow down the build and convince Starlight to shut down.”
“Please stop talking,” he said. After a moment’s consideration, he proposed, “If you and your group leave now and don’t come back, I won’t have you arrested.”
Rose held her tongue, but ultimately lost the battle with her own determination.
“I won’t give up. One World has set up camp on public land.”
“One World? That’s the name of your terrorist organization.”
“We’re not terrorists. We’re environmentalists, and I've already told your men I didn’t order them to throw that dynamite. I tried to stop them.”
“You’re going to make me arrest you?” he challenged.
She pressed her mouth into a hard line, struggling with her stubbornness. “I won’t give up.”
“Rose,” he said in a tone that was unusually gentle. “I don’t want to arrest you.”
“Good. I’m willing to negotiate.”
“Stop,” he said impatiently. “You aren’t in a position to negotiate. This project has nothing to do with you.”
“If you don’t stop the construction of this pipeline, I’ll go to the press.”
“With what?” he asked, astounded. “With your confession that you tried to blow up my site?”
“Ugh, for the last time, that wasn’t my idea!”
“Look,” he said firmly. “The deal is you leave and never come back and I don’t have you and your group arrested. Now do we have a deal?”
It was impossible to stare him down while looking up at him, but she did her best, asserting, “No.”
“You’re being unreasonable.”
“The deal is you stop the build and I won’t make your life a living hell.”
He burst out laughing, but it came with an edge of exasperation.
She suddenly remembered she’d read about him. It had been a footnote, at best, in an article about Porter Montgomery and the oil spill, but the details were coming back to her.
“Taylor,” she said, and his eyes brightened. “Taylor Montgomery. I read about you. You went to medical school. You had a promising career as a surgeon, one of the youngest in Washington State.” Suddenly confused that he could be at the helm of the p
ipeline project, she asked, “What happened to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why would you give up saving lives in favor of destroying them?”
“That’s not what I did, and your phrasing is over the top.”
“You got sucked into the family business, is that it? The money was too good to turn down?”
Taylor advanced on her, listing out the merits of his father’s company. “Starlight donated half a million dollars to stem cell research, a quarter of a million to breast cancer research. Every time Planned Parenthood is about to tank, I write another check. Don’t you dare undervalue what my family does.”
She cocked her head at that. “Those donations occurred in the last year. That wasn’t your father. That was you.”
“And you’re welcome. Now, please shut up. I have to think.”
The cell phone in her back pocket began vibrating, so she pulled it out.
“You’re getting a call.”
Rising out of her chair to hand him his cell, Rose met him halfway. When their hands brushed in the pass-off, Taylor lingered, looking down at her and tilting his head in a way that reminded her of their mind-blowing night.
In barely a whisper, he said, “Thanks,” and then swiped the screen, stepping back and answering the call. “Yeah?” Rose couldn’t hear whoever was on the other end, but she gleaned it was a man. “No, no need to come by. Everything’s great here. We’re on track.” He paused, listening. “I may need to PO for more materials, but I’ll keep you abreast.” He listened, and the voice coming through sounded commanding. “No, Dad, I said it’s under control. You have to let me handle this. I don’t need you breathing down my neck the very first day.”
As Taylor slipped his cell into his slacks, he looked nervous, and Rose couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him.
KYLE: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 4) Page 73