No Escape (Delta Force #3)
Page 14“She loves staying with you,” said Amanda. “That’s all she could talk about last week after you watched her.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” said Grant. “At least not until Wyatt is back behind bars.”
Amanda looked from Grant to Isabelle. “Wyatt?”
“Dale’s father. He came to my house last night. He told Dale he’d seen you and Rachel there.”
Grant’s mouth flattened. “He said you were hot, which means he’s taken some interest in you. You need to be careful. He’s a dangerous man.”
Amanda’s brown eyes closed in weariness. “Don’t worry. I’m used to watching out for dangerous men.”
Ricky kept his eyes fixed on the wad of cash dangling in front of him in a clear plastic bag. The muscle-bound man holding it creeped him out, but for that much cash, Ricky could stand a little creepy.
Ricky squared his shoulders and tried to pretend he wasn’t aching to reach out and snatch that bag away. “That’s not enough for anything permanent, pops, but it’s enough to rough the guy up a little. Send him a message.”
The man’s face was shadowed by his deep hood, but his eyes still glowed bright blue. “A broken leg would be my first choice. That way, he won’t be able to run away.”
From what, Ricky didn’t dare ask. He so did not want to know.
“Broken leg. Got it.” Ricky stared at the money and had to shove his hands deep in his pockets to keep from snatching it away. He needed a fix bad, and that much dough would keep him hooked up for a month.
“He’ll be with a woman. Do not touch her.”
“Sure. Whatever you want.”
Ricky pulled his gaze away from the money long enough to check out the guy’s face. He had a creepy serious look in his eyes that said he meant business. Those eerie blue eyes would haunt Ricky’s dreams for a year, he was sure.
“If you hurt the woman, I’ll find you and kill you in your sleep. Slowly. Are we clear?”
Even with his body burning for a fix, Ricky still felt the shudder of fear that slid through him. “We’re clear. Can I call in my crew?”
“I don’t care how you get the job done, just do it tonight. They’ll be coming out of the restaurant soon. He drives a flashy silver Mustang. Be waiting for him.”
The guy offered him the bag of cash, and Ricky grabbed it and stuffed it down the front of his jeans for safekeeping. “I won’t be late, man.”
And he wouldn’t. No way was he going to give creep-o here a reason to come back and find him.
Grant hadn’t actually expected any of tonight’s dinner companions to stand up and announce they were a killer, but it would have been nice.
On the way into the restaurant, he’d only meant to tease her to get her mind off of all the doom and gloom, but it had backfired in a serious way. As soon as her exotic green eyes had slid down his body, looking like he was something good to eat, he knew he was in over his head.
She wasn’t a kid anymore. She wasn’t married or attached in any way. She was fair game. And Grant really wanted to play.
He stared across the table to where she spoke quietly to Amanda. The flickering candle on the table cast a soft light over her skin, making it glow. The flame was reflected by her glossy hair, making it shimmer every time she moved.
It was the kind of sight a man never got tired of seeing, and right then, Grant knew he was headed for trouble. He wasn’t good at keeping his hands to himself. Especially not when he knew he wasn’t the only one wanting to touch.
He’d just reached out his hand to stroke hers when their next dinner companion arrived. Grant pulled his hand back and rose to his feet.
“Everett,” greeted Isabelle. “I’m so glad you could make it. Do you remember Grant?”
Everett was on the short side, with mousy brown hair that was combed to exacting standards. His glasses were too large for his face and thick enough that they’d worn grooves in the side of his nose from years of being perched in the same spot. He gave Grant a limp, sweaty handshake, which sent a stack of papers under his own arm fluttering to the floor.
“Sorry,” he squeaked out and dropped to the floor to frantically recover his papers.
Grant bent down to help, using the opportunity to see what Everett was toting around. Without looking like he was, Grant scanned the pages as he picked them up. They were financial documents of some kind, along with tax forms. Isabelle’s tax forms.
What the hell was he doing with those?
“I’m sorry, Isabelle,” said Everett. “I was going to give these to you tonight, but now I’ll have to take them home and reorganize them.”
“It’s fine,” soothed Isabelle as she helped gather papers. “Tax day isn’t for a while yet. I’m just glad you were able to fit me in. I know how busy you are this time of year.”
Everett blushed. “It was no problem. Your forms are simple.”
She gave him a wide smile. “Then why can’t I figure it out myself? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Everett’s blush darkened, and he tugged at his tie as if he had a hard time swallowing.
Grant handed Everett the folder that had housed all of the papers and watched as he carefully righted the chaotic stack of tax forms.
“You’re an accountant now?” asked Grant as he helped Everett to his feet.
“Yes.” He set the folder on the table and brushed off his knees, though Grant could see no dirt.
“That’s great.”
Everett sat down across the table from Isabelle but barely raised his eyes from his lap. The way he could hardly look at Isabelle without blushing made Grant think that the guy had a bad case of the hots for her.
Not that Grant blamed him.
Keith showed up right on Everett’s heels. He smiled at Grant and shook his hand, while offering hugs to the ladies and a hearty slap on the back to Everett. The smaller man nearly landed on the floor, but Grant steadied him.
“Good to see you all again,” said Keith. “We should get together like this more often, though under better circumstances if I read Isabelle’s expression right.”
“That would be nice,” said Isabelle, “but we’ll have to do it without Grant. He’s on his way out of town in a couple of days, so enjoy him while he’s here.”
Grant raised a brow at her comment and said in a low voice to her, “I do so like to be enjoyed.”
Isabelle shot him a warning look, but it was softened by the feminine smile that warmed her mouth.
“Amanda doesn’t have much time, so I’m going to get right to it.” Isabelle cleared her throat and glanced nervously at Grant.
He nodded in encouragement. “Go ahead, honey.”
Keith gave him a narrow, disapproving look at his endearment, but Grant ignored him. He sat back and let Isabelle explain to the group what was going on while he kept an eye on their reactions. He was hoping that something about one of them would jump out at him and proclaim their guilt as the killer.
She took a deep breath. “I think we’re all in danger. I have reason to believe that someone is killing people who used to live with Lavine and staging their deaths as suicides.”
Amanda’s weary eyes widened. “Please tell me this is a joke.”
Isabelle reached for her hand. “I’m sorry, but it’s not.”
Everett sat silently.
Keith leaned forward, his handsome face furrowed with concern. “I looked into those deaths when you told me about them, Isabelle. There was nothing to support your claim. You talked to the police, and so did I.”
“The police were wrong not to believe me,” said Isabelle.
Keith shook his head at her. “Those poor people were suffering and chose to end it. They’d never want their actions to make the rest of us afraid. I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
Isabelle frowned at Keith, then pinned the others with a pleading look. “I wouldn’t worry you all with this if I didn’t think it was real.”
Amanda gulped down some water, and Grant noticed her hand shake. “I can’t deal with this right now. I have to go to work.” She stood and slung her purse over her arm.
“What to do?” Amanda nearly shouted.
People at neighboring tables glanced over, but Grant gave them a hard stare, telling them to mind their own damn business. They went back to eating with only curious, fleeting glances toward the women.
Amanda lowered her voice. “What I have to do is go to work and pray my tips are good enough tonight that I can make my rent payment tomorrow. Then when I get home, I have to do laundry so Rachel has something to wear to school tomorrow and so that I can get to my next job by six in the morning wearing a clean uniform so I don’t get fired. I’m already doing everything I can. I can’t do any more.”
“But you could be in danger,” said Isabelle.
“I’m already in danger of not being able to put a roof to put over my daughter’s head, or food on her plate. For a mom, it doesn’t get more dangerous than that.”
Isabelle took hold of Amanda’s arm, keeping her from fleeing. “Please, let us find a way to help you. I have some friends you could go stay with where no one could find you or Rachel.”
“And what about my jobs? Rachel’s school? We can’t walk away from our lives.”
“You could stay with me. I’ll get Rachel to school.”
“She’s been through enough already. If you want to help, then you all figure out what I can do that doesn’t cost me my paychecks or uproot my daughter’s life and I’ll listen. But right now, I’ve got to go to work.”
Isabelle followed after Amanda for a few steps, then came to a halt. The look of failure on her face made Grant want to gather her in his arms.
He stepped in front of Isabelle, who was still watching Amanda leave and tilted her chin up until she looked him in the eye. He kept his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry to the rest of the group. “Let her go. She’s dealing with the news in her own way. I’ll check out her place tomorrow and see how safe she and Rachel are.”
Isabelle gave him a small nod. “Thank you.”
“For now, let’s figure out what the other two want to do, okay?” He guided her back to her seat. Everett gave her a quick glance before his gaze scuttled away.
“This is why I didn’t want you to worry the others,” said Keith. “Now Amanda is going to be scared for no reason.”
Isabelle’s eyes narrowed. “There is a reason, Keith. You just don’t want to believe it because it makes you vulnerable.”
“I’ve tried cases involving some of the most useless pieces of filth on the planet, and more than one of them has threatened to kill me. Those were real threats. Those made me feel vulnerable. This is just a string of bad coincidences affecting a bunch of wounded children.”