Chapter Fourteen

Annabelle stood in front of the full-length mirror and admired the way the Ralph Lauren ensemble fit her frame. She couldn’t believe she was wearing the clothes of an Oscar-winning actress. She’d chosen something that was both professional for the trip to the lawyer’s office yet easy to move in if—God forbid—they had to run. The cream crewneck silk top featured a sheer double hem and sleeves. It layered over black stretch pants for a classy yet functional look. The Kevlar added extra padding, but that didn’t bother her. Having seen how a vest had saved both Kellan and Ethan yesterday, she was totally convinced of their effectiveness. A small Gucci purse finished the outfit.

She’d used Jade’s cosmetics to conceal the bruising as much as possible, and products on her hair to add tousled waves to her usually-straight locks. She tried telling herself she was applying makeup and styling her hair to visit the lawyer, but she was lying. She was doing it for Kellan.

Ethan was strapping a gun around his ankle while Kellan secured one in a holster at the small of his back when she found them in the living room. They both wore dark polo shirts and charcoal colored tactical pants with all kinds of pockets and flaps. Their boots looked all sorts of complicated, too. Ethan had obviously brought enough supplies with him for Kellan, too. She noticed that the shirts didn’t have their company logo like the one Kellan wore the first day she met him.

Kellan glanced up at her and smiled and she had to take a step back. Wow. She was in so much trouble. How could she have feelings this strong after only knowing him for a short time? He’d quickly become the most important person in the world to her.

That thought was either super-exciting or super-sad.

Forcing her gaze away from the man who consumed her thoughts, she secured the straps on her backpack. She wasn’t going anywhere without it. Hopefully, Mr. Walters, the lawyer who took over for Mr. Windham, would be in today. She wasn’t going to call first and alert him to their arrival. She didn’t want him to pull a Dirk and contact her stepbrother or Bixby’s old crew.

“You look beautiful, Belle.”

Annabelle jumped at the word whispered close to her ear. She hadn’t even heard Kellan approach. The compliment sent a delicious thrill down her spine. And he’d called her Belle again. She loved how the nickname rolled off his tongue. “It’s the clothes.” She smoothed a hand down the silk top.

“No, it’s not,” he murmured.

She looked into his eyes and was lost.

“You two ready?” Ethan asked, breaking the haze that surrounded them.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” Kellan said, still watching her. When he reached for her hand, she knew she’d taken that last step. She’d fallen in love with him.

#

Kellan wasn’t feeling one-hundred percent, but there was no way he’d allow Annabelle to leave the house without him. Even at eighty to eighty-five percent effective, he’d be able to protect her. Having Ethan as backup helped. They were linked through microscopic comm devices in their ears that allowed them to keep in touch.

The mac and cheese breakfast had been filling, but he needed a shot of energy, so he’d consumed a protein bar before they loaded into the SUV. Annabelle insisted on bringing her backpack, but the house was a veritable fortress. He’d had to practically pry it from her hands. Just to be safe, he’d locked it in the weapons room Logan had custom installed. Much like Annabelle’s hidden room, this one was also disguised behind a bookcase and required two different sets of codes. Her prized possessions would be safe.

Ethan had accessed the blueprints of the law offices and they found an entry at the back of the building most likely used for employees. The door wasn’t visible from the street, so it would allow them privacy entering and leaving the offices.

Kellan hoped the meeting didn’t take long. He wanted to be back to the house as quickly as possible. The earliest the company jet could pick them up was tomorrow, and then they’d be ensconced in the safety of the compound. He didn’t want anyone associating Annabelle with COBRA Securities, so he’d purposefully not worn a shirt with a logo.

“Change of plans,” Ethan announced as they slowly rolled up to the back of the building. Kellan peered through the window to see the entry had been barricaded shut.

“Precaution after Mr. Windham was murdered,” he guessed. The killer must’ve entered through that door. “Okay, Plan B. We go through the front.” He got out and helped Annabelle. “Stay close to the building and keep your head down.” Putting his arm around her, he guided her around the two-story brick building, shielding her from view as much as possible. “We’re inside,” he told Ethan through the comms once they entered the lobby.

The interior was luxurious and lavish, with polished hardwood floors in a herringbone pattern, leather chairs and sofas interspersed with ornate tables and lush tropical plants. Elegantly framed artwork decorated the walls. A bronze statue of a blindfolded Lady Justice carrying a sword and the Scales of Justice was prominently displayed on a sideboard. Directly in front of them was a slightly curved reception desk made of ebony wood with a marble counter. Gold letters on the front spelled out Windham, Wallace and Pierce, with Attorneys at Law in smaller letters beneath.

A woman with short cinnamon-colored hair and moss green eyes behind black frames greeted them with a dazzling smile. “Welcome to Windham, Wallace and Pierce. How may I help you today?”

Annabelle stepped forward. “I need to speak with Mr. Walters.”

The woman glanced at the computer screen in front of her and tapped keys. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, I don’t, but I’m leaving town and Mr. Walters needed me to sign some papers. It shouldn’t take long. If you can let him know I’m here, I would appreciate it.”

“I’ll certainly see if he’s available to meet with you. Your name?”

“Ms. St. John. I was a client of Mr. Windham.”

“One moment please.”

#

Annabelle waited while the perky redhead spoke into a headset. She hoped she’d recognize the receptionist from her last visit so the woman would let the fact that she didn’t have an appointment slide, but unfortunately, she wasn’t familiar. The woman smiled and said, “He’ll be right with you.” She indicated for Annabelle to have a seat in the waiting area. Instead, she walked over to a thirty-six by forty-eight-inch portrait of Mr. Windham displayed on the wall. He’d been such a nice man. In the picture, he was seated in a chair and smiling in the gentle way that was both grandfatherly and kind. She wondered how long they’d keep his name as part of the firm.

“He looks like he was a good man,” Kellan said.

She smiled sadly. “The best. He was one of my stepfather’s closest friends, one of the few who visited him in the last months of his life.” Seeing his picture brought a wave of sadness over her. Had it only been a few days ago that he’d been senselessly murdered?

Turning away, she sat on a brown tufted leather two-person sofa expecting Kellan to join her, but he took up a position by the door where he could keep an eye on everyone coming and going. She would give Mr. Walters five minutes and if he didn’t show, they were leaving. She wasn’t about to chance a rerun of the bank fiasco. A glance at the antique grandfather clock positioned against a wall showed that they had two minutes before they walked out.

“Ms. St. John?”

She glanced up to see a well-dressed man approaching her. He was average height, in his early thirties with dark hair and eyes. His navy suit with a light blue pinstriped tie and shiny loafers spoke of success. She stood as he reached her, his arm outstretched. She shook his hand and said, “I apologize for stopping by without an appointment but I’m leaving town today.”

“It’s not a problem at all.” He hadn’t moved his gaze from her, nor released her hand and it was disconcerting. “Please, call me Cory. I must say, you’re even more lovely in person…though that looks painful.” He pointed to her eye.

Her hand strayed to her battered face. She’d tried to cover it as best she could but it was still visible. “I ran into a door,” she lied.” She felt rather than saw Kellan approach. The particles in the air seemed to shift—or maybe it was just her intense reaction to him. She tugged her hand free just as Kellan wrapped an arm around her.

Cory’s eyes snapped from her to Kellan, who held out his hand. “Kellan Polizzi, Annabelle’s…significant other.”

Cory’s brows furrowed and he reluctantly shook hands, wincing when Kellan must’ve squeezed a little too hard. Men. Then he instructed them to follow him to the second floor to sign the papers.

She waited until Cory was several steps in front before raising a brow. “Significant other?”

“The guy’s an asshat.”

She couldn’t argue with that. She’d been uncomfortable under his scrutiny. His gaze felt predatory. Calculating. The ride up the elevator was quiet and thankfully short. He led them to the same suite Mr. Windham occupied a few short days ago. She expected to see his secretary, but a different woman was perched behind the desk. This one looked fresh out of college with tousled blond hair, flawless makeup and a top at least two sizes too small for her perky double-D’s.

Annabelle was taken aback when they entered what was now Cory’s office. The floor-to-ceiling bookcases had been completely cleared out, boxes stacked haphazardly around the space. The framed landscape photos that used to hang on the walls were packed in bubble wrap and piled on the new sleek, modern conference table. Didn’t they allow for a time of mourning? It seemed like a slam to Mr. Windham to fill his spot so quickly. He’d been a founding partner of the firm, for goodness sake.

Noting her distress, Cory said, “Excuse the mess. I’m still getting settled in.” He stepped over a rolled-up carpet and skirted a furniture dolly to take a seat behind a limestone, glass and chrome monstrosity. Mr. Windham’s desk had been an antique Chippendale. He shuffled papers around and then made an “ah-ha” sound, tugging out a manila folder.

“I have the form I need you to sign right here.”

“I was led to believe all was taken care of the last time I met with Mr. Windham. He went over everything in explicit detail.”

“Just some additional paperwork,” Cory said airily. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He flipped open the folder and pointed out tabs next to the signature lines. “If you’ll sign in those two spots, we’ll be good to go.”

“May I ask what this is that I’m supposed to sign?” She knew Mr. Windham had covered every angle.

“Legal mumbo jumbo, you know how it is,” he chuckled but when they didn’t join in, he sobered. “This document allows the firm to continue to handle your case—me specifically.”

Kellan slammed a hand down on the pen before she could pick it up…not that she had any intention of signing.

“I’d like my attorney to look these over,” Kellan said.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Cory insisted. “It’s all routine.”

“It’s non-negotiable.” He shut the folder and scooped it off the desk.

Cory’s mouth pinched. He swung his gaze from Kellan to her. “I thought I was your lawyer, Annabelle.”

“Mr. Windham was my lawyer.”

“Yes, but he hand-picked me to join the firm. He groomed me to be his successor.”

“Now that he’s gone, I do need to find a new attorney, but that’s my choice.”

He sat back in his chair. “I see.”

“Please don’t take this personally,” she apologized. “But I don’t know anything about you.”

“As I said, Mr. Windham chose me—”

She held up a hand to stop his spiel. “I understand, Mr. Walters, and I promise I’ll take that into consideration, but it would be in my best interest to exercise due diligence before I make a choice.”

He stood. “In that case, I guess we have nothing else to discuss.”

She’d obviously offended him by not jumping at the opportunity to have him represent her. She didn’t really care since it was unrealistic to think she’d blindly accept him, but there went her chance to have him draw up a document for Robbie to sign. Kellan stood and helped her to her feet. When Cory made no move to show them to the door, they left on their own. She turned to thank him for his time, but he was on the phone with his back to them. She’d probably just cost him a huge commission, but that wasn’t her concern. She didn’t hire him, he just appointed himself her lawyer. She was glad they’d made the trip to meet him in person, otherwise, she might’ve signed on with him because it was the easy thing to do and he already had access to her files. She was about to be very wealthy and she needed to research the person she trusted with her legal matters.

A woman engrossed with her phone stepped off the elevator when the doors opened. She looked up and stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry…oh, hello, Ms. St. John. How are you?”

She smiled at the woman who helped draw up her will the last time she was here. “I’m okay, thank you. How are you, Beth?”

The other woman’s eyes were sad. “I’ve been better. Losing Mr. Windham was a tough blow.”

“It was,” she agreed. A thought struck. She glanced over her shoulder but Cory was nowhere in sight. “Can I ask you a legal question?”

“Sure. Let’s go to my office.”

Beth’s office was more of a broom closet, with barely enough room for two visitor chairs in front of a desk one-eighth the size of Cory’s monolithic one. Once they were inside, she closed the door. Annabelle introduced Kellan and the other woman blushed as she shook his hand. Annabelle didn’t blame her. He had that effect on her, too.

Beth rounded her desk and sat before clasping her hands together. “What can I do for you?”

“I don’t want to impose, but I was wondering if you could draw up a document for me today for my stepbrother to sign.”

“Sure. What kind of document?”

“My stepbrother owes a great deal of money. I want to offer to pay off his debt if he’ll agree to never contact me again or try to extort money from me in the future.”

“I can do that for you, Annabelle, but I have to advise you that these types of papers don’t always work.”

“I understand.” It was still worth it to try. Forty-five minutes later, they exited the offices with the freshly-printed form in hand. It wouldn’t guarantee that Robbie would leave her alone, but if he did try to hit her up for more money in the future, she’d have something to present to the authorities.

Kellan waited until they were back inside the SUV before he spoke. “I still think it’s a bad idea to pay off your stepbrother’s debt.”

“I agree,” Ethan concurred. “That paper won’t stop him.”

“How else am I going to keep him from trying to kill me?” Digging through the purse she borrowed from Jade, she found the address book she’d thought to grab from her room. Most information she kept on her cell, but it was out of commission. Now she was glad that she kept a hard copy, otherwise, she’d have no clue as to Robbie’s phone number. “Can I use your cell?”

Kellan handed it over with a sigh. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.” Before they could talk her out of it, she punched in Robbie’s number and waited. After several rings, it kicked over to voice mail. She disconnected and tried the number she had written down for Vespa. She wondered if the woman even knew how to answer a phone and then chided herself for being petty. She wasn’t that stupid. Her phone clicked over to voice mail as well. “No answer.” She wanted to get the contract signed before they left town. “Can we drive by Robbie’s business?” He wouldn’t try something in broad daylight with witnesses around. She hoped. She recited the address and Kellan entered it into the GPS. Ten minutes later, Ethan slowly cruised by the store. A metal gate barred entry and a closed sign hung on the door. “That’s odd.” According to the hours posted on the window, the shop should be open now.

“Maybe Thompkins works fast,” Ethan said.

“You don’t think…” No, it was too much to hope that Robbie was gone from her life for good. She knew that made her sound like a bad person hoping her stepbrother was dead, but he was depraved. Anyone that forced a living being to kill another was a murderer. It didn’t matter if it was human or canine.

“Maybe they’re on the lam,” Kellan suggested. “Thompkins had to have told him the fees doubled. If he couldn’t pay the five million, there’s no way he could come up with ten.”

Would Robbie run? Maybe he fled to Mexico or a country without an extradition treaty with the United States like Libya or Yemen. She almost chuckled picturing her snobby stepbrother wearing a Thobe, the loose, ankle-length garment with long sleeves popular in Arab countries.

“I’ll call the office and have them check on any hits on their passports or if their names are listed on any passenger manifests,” Kellan said. “We should swing by his house, too.”

Annabelle recited the address and he entered it into the GPS. Though she’d driven by the Tuscan style two-story residence in Chatsworth, she’d never been inside. Had never been invited. It was a new build in an exclusive community of million-dollar homes. It wasn’t nearly as palatial as Rob’s mansion, but it was easily five-thousand square feet with professional landscaping, offering stunning curb appeal.

Ethan followed the instructions and soon they were turning onto the street. There was no sign of life around the house. Parked along the curb two houses down was a van with the name of a cable company stenciled on the side. A moving truck was backed up to a house at the end of the cul-de-sac. The lush, green yard around Robbie’s dwelling had been recently maintained but she’d bet her inheritance that he paid someone to mow the lawn and water the flowers. She couldn’t recall one time that he’d done any kind of physical labor growing up unless bullying younger stepsisters counted.

Ethan braked and then backed into the driveway of a house across the street with a For Sale sign in the yard. He turned off the engine, grabbed a baseball cap and opened the door. “They don’t know me. I’ll go ring the bell and try to sell them Girl Scout cookies or something.”

“Uh, Ethan?”

He stuck his head in the SUV. “Yeah?”

“You look nothing like a girl,” she pointed out.

“Or a scout,” Kellan added.

“I’ll have you know that my acting skills are—”

Gunshots rang out, cutting him off. He ducked and launched back inside while Kellan dove between the seats to cover her, which was a bit awkward since she was still belted in. And darn it, he was going to rip his stitches open again.

“The garage door is opening,” Ethan told them.

Tires squealed and she lifted her head to peek out the side window. A black Mercedes backed out at breakneck speed and barreled into the street with no regard for traffic. Thankfully there was none. The driver laid down a strip of rubber as the car shot forward.

“Do we follow or check the house?” Ethan asked.

“The house,” Kellan decided. He levered himself off her and reached for the door. She unbuckled her belt, intending to follow when he stopped her with, “Stay here and lock the doors.”

“But I—”

He pinned her with a glare. “No buts. Do not leave this vehicle. Lock the doors and if we aren’t back in five minutes, drive away. Head to a police station and call my bosses.” He handed her his phone, which she reluctantly accepted. She wanted to go with them, but they were the professionals and she was not.

“Be careful,” she shouted just before the door slammed shut. Then he and Ethan were gone, jogging across the street with their weapons held close to their bodies, their eyes scanning the area. Somehow Kellan had donned a cap without her seeing him do so. It was pulled low over his eyes, as was the one Ethan wore. Using hand signals, he went in one direction, Ethan the other, then they both disappeared from sight. She checked up and down the road to see if the gunshots brought anyone out to investigate, but there was no movement from any of the neighbors’ homes. Keeping her eyes glued to Robbie’s house, she willed Kellan to return safely. It was the longest four minutes of her life before first Ethan and then Kellan appeared, both with matching grim looks.

“Did you find anything?” she asked when they returned.

“Yeah, a body,” Ethan told her.

It was too much to hope for… “Robbie?”

Kellan shook his head.

“Oh no, Vespa?”

He shook it again.

“Then who?”

“Cable guy.”

She started to reach for her door. “We have to help him.”

Kellan’s words stopped her. “It’s too late, Belle. He’s dead.”

#

Kellan ran through scenarios in his head on the way back to Logan’s house, the most likely being that Robbie mistook the cable guy for either a burglar or a hit man. Hell, maybe the guy was a hired gun.

Robbie had to know Thompkins doubled his debt by now. Panic plus an itchy trigger finger equaled disaster. The poor installer had been at the wrong place at the wrong time—assuming he actually worked for the TV company. He could’ve been an enforcer sent by The Viper to deliver a message. He wasn’t one of the men from Bixby’s—now Thompkins’ crew they encountered yesterday, but there could be more out there. Probably were.

They’d called the cops to report the shooting but didn’t stick around to answer questions. A neighborhood that exclusive undoubtedly contained several security cameras that captured them on tape. They told the cops they stopped to look at a house for sale, heard the gunshots and ran to help. The film would back that up. Oh, the police would still want to talk to them, but they’d have to find them first. Good luck with that.

Tyler had texted him that there were no Robert or Vespa Singletons listed on the manifests of any flights, buses, trains, rental agencies or other transportation options, so they hadn’t planned to run before today. He’d instructed Tyler to look for any additional properties listed to Singleton, his mother’s family, his company or his wife’s relatives.

“Does your stepbrother have keys to the house in Aspen?”

“He shouldn’t, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he made copies of Rob’s at some point.”

He’d alert the Colorado police about the possibility of a man and woman wanted for questioning showing up at the house.

“As soon as we get back to Logan’s house, I’ll call the property management company and have them change the locks,” she said, obviously following his train of thought. “I don’t think he’d try to hide out there since it’d be an obvious place to look, but he might.”

“We’ve flagged their names, so if they try to book a flight to Hawaii or anywhere else, we’ll know. What about Robbie’s mother? Would she help him disappear?”

“I don’t know her well, but I don’t think so. She wanted nothing to do with him when he was a teenager. Now she’s remarried to a doctor, a heart surgeon, living the life of a pampered socialite. I doubt she’d risk her reputation with the country club crowd to aid and abet her disgrace of a son.”

He doubted it too. His phone chimed a text. He read the message from Tyler that said Singleton’s campaign manager filed a police report this morning alleging that someone cleared out the bank account set up for donations. The value was around a quarter of a million dollars. No doubt Robbie, but it wasn’t near enough to pay off his monumental debt.

Annabelle tapped his shoulder. “Can I borrow your phone again? I want to try calling one more time.”

He handed it to her and she punched buttons. “It’s been disconnected.” She entered another sequence and held the phone to her ear. “Vespa’s number has been disconnected, too.”

“They’re on the run,” Ethan deduced.

And if they were running for their lives, he wouldn’t have time to threaten Annabelle’s.