Kestrel (Hart Briothers #3) (30 page)

In the meantime, Drex continues to drill me for more
information. I’m sure I’m not giving him enough, because everything I tell him
seems so basic.

Then he asks, “Any encounters with anyone? Interactions
that may lead you to believe this could have resulted from that?”

At first I say no. But then I think of Simon. Could it
be him? Does he hate me enough to do it? Or even hate Carter enough. I tell
Drex. I also tell him about Harper.

“You have to count everyone as a possibility. Even this
Simon fellow.”

“Okay. But after the two of them, I don’t have anyone
else.”

“What about Carter?” Gemini asks.

“If you met her, that girl doesn’t have a mean bone in
her body. I don’t know how she could possibly have any enemies.”

Drex says, “You have to think outside the box. We’re
looking at all possibilities. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know how she
could have enemies. The fact is someone might have wanted her dead. So think in
those terms. If you do, who would you point your finger at?”

“She has the shittiest friends I’ve ever known, not that
I’m an expert on friends.” I explain.

“Okay, not cause for death, but yet the green monster of
envy has been the motive before.”

“Are you sure this isn’t mob related?”

“No. At this point I’m only sure of one thing. Your
mother is dead and we don’t know who did it. I’m exploring everything I can.

Nikolai yells, “I’m in.”

Drex yells back, “Evidence. Hart case.
Bullet, casings.
Anything that can tell us what they found,
or suspect. Gang related? Organized crime? Let me know when you have it.” Then
his attention is back on me.

A young blond woman enters, carrying a tray of coffee
and all sorts of breakfast items.

“Hungry?” Gemini asks.

“Yes, thanks.”

Coffee is poured and we continue to work as we eat.

Nikolai announces that the evidence is scarce. “I don’t
really understand. The database has almost nothing, which is baffling.”

I stand and walk over to him. “What does that mean? They
spent two days collecting it. With all the gunfire, there must’ve been tons of
it. Maybe they haven’t finished testing it yet.”

“No. What they collected should at least be listed. They
should enter it the day it’s brought in.”

Drex shakes his head. “There’s a dirty cop. Someone
inside’s involved in this.”

“But who and why?”

“Can’t answer that. But the fact that the evidence isn’t
in here is enough proof for me. Huff, did Dane get off okay?”

“Yeah.”

“He report in yet?”

“Yeah. The plane is en route.”

“Call him now and tell him to call as soon as he’s set
up. We need to send a
back-up
. Kestrel, call your
team. Make sure Carter is watched twenty-four/seven. She’s not to be left
alone.”

“Okay. You are freaking the fuck out of me.”

“Don’t mean to do that, man. Just making sure your girl
is safe. Make the call. Better yet, let me talk to your team.”

I dial and initiate the call, then hand it over to Drex.
They coordinate and admittedly, I feel better about things.

“Where’s Kolson?” he asks.

“I assume at the hospital.”

We need to set him up with a team, too. Get him on the
phone.”

Drex explains the situation to him and he is instructed
to remain at the hospital until his protection arrives. Christ, this thing is
snowballing. What next?

The day rolls by and lunch is brought in. Soon I glance
out the glass partition and notice the office outside is empty.

Gemini looks at me and asks, “You’re spending the night,
right?”

Ha! “I hadn’t planned on it. I thought this was going to
be a quick here and back trip.”

“No worries. The executive apartment is here for that
very thing. We have everything you need, steps away.”

“I’m very worried for Carter.”

“I can see that. But she’s in good hands and as soon as
Dane gets on site, you’ll have the best shadowing her.”

“He can’t be there all the time.”

“That’s why we’re sending back-up.”

“Drex, I need to ask you something. Do you think Carter
is safer away from me?”

“Tough call. If you felt like you were bringing the
danger upon her, then I would say yes. But you don’t know that for sure.”

“That doesn’t help me at all,” I say.

“I know. It looks like we have everything we need from
you here. I’m going to come down there tomorrow and poke my nose into the
Charleston PD’s investigation. See what they tell me. I also have a friend in
the FBI. He can help, if need be. But right now, the important thing is to keep
all of you protected so this doesn’t happen again.”

The next morning, Drex, Gemini, and two men join me for
my flight home. One of the men will be my shadow. His name is Turk and the
other will be helping Dane watch Carter. His name is Heath. I pray things go as
they plan because I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to Carter, or
anyone else.

***

Returning to Charleston was the most difficult thing
imaginable. I can’t eat, sleep, or function. All I
can
do is think about Carter and the way she looked when I left
her. And then I’m in a constant battle over her safety. Should I go to her or
let her be? Was I the true cause of the shooting? My gut tells me yes, so I
feel this is the right thing to do, but it’s making me fucknuts. Being this
close to her, and not being able to touch her, has triggered my cravings for
her. She’s all I think about. The only time I get relief is when I’m dead ass
drunk.

Two weeks go by and that’s about all I’m doing now.
Jameson has become my best friend. I’ve even abandoned Lagavulin in exchange
for it. Seems to be the only thing that can drown out the picture of Carter’s face
that’s embedded in my mind.

Kolson walks in and yanks the bottle of Jameson out of
my hand. “Get the fuck up and straighten out your shit. You have a company to
run and a killer to help Wolfe find, and you can’t do either at the bottom of a
bottle.”

I groan as he opens the curtains in the bedroom. The
bright light streams in and my skull wants to split wide open. Christ, what
time is it? Did I sleep with that damn bottle of whiskey?

“You have to stop this shit, Kestrel. Living like this
isn’t going to help.”

“You don’t understand.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I understand better than
anyone. When I was in hiding, I did exactly what you’re doing and it got me
nowhere. I finally realized if I didn’t stop, I’d be right where Kade was, only
my vice would be liquor and not drugs. Now what’s it gonna be?”

“Whiskey is the only thing stronger than Carter.” And
it’s true. It’s the only thing that expunges the image of her face from my
mind—the last look I have of her when I walked out of her life.

“Jesus, if that’s what you think, then you don’t know that
woman at all. Think about what you just said. I have to go back to New York.
Gabriella’s been released and the plane leaves in four hours. You don’t have a
choice here or I’m removing you from HTS. Do I make myself clear?”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“As CEO, I would. I’m in charge of protecting this
corporation and right now you are incompetent. Pull yourself out of your
self-imposed gutter, brother. Or you’ll find yourself unemployed. Get your ass
in the shower and get cleaned up. Now!”

He leaves me no choice. I roll out of bed and stumble
into the shower. He’s right. The pity party has to end. And I need to get my
ass in gear. Finding the killers should be my priority, not drinking myself
into oblivion. What the hell is wrong with me? When I get out of the shower,
Kolson stands there.

“You’re right,” I say.

“Good. Now go get something to eat. You smell like
whiskey.”

“That bad, huh?”

“That bad.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Carter

“What do you mean he left?” Harper asks.

“I don’t know how I can be more explicit.” My hand
automatically fingers the necklace he gave me. I can’t bring myself to take it
off.

“How could he do this to you?”

Falling back against the cushions on the sofa, I groan.
“I don’t know, Harper. All I know is he said he was worried about my safety.”

“That’s obvious. From the looks of the linebackers you
have on the porch, you don’t need to worry about a thing. They wanted to frisk
me when I got here.”

“You’re kidding!”

“No! They asked me if I was carrying a weapon! I showed
them my pepper spray.”

“Ugh!” I want to crawl back in my bed and hide.

“By the way, you look like shit.”

I give her the evil eye. “Thanks. You would too, if you
had been shot, and then abandoned by your boyfriend.”

“
Ooooh
, poor baby.” She launches
herself at me and squeezes me as hard as she can.

“Ouch! Take it easy. My chest still hurts.”

“Oh, sorry.” She releases me.

I rub my incision.

“Hey, can I see it?”

“I guess so.”

I lift my shirt and she says, “
Ew
!
That’s gross. You’re still green and yellow. And what’s that?”

“It’s left over from the tape and glue.”

“Huh? They glued you?”

“Uh huh.”

“Ick. That’s just nasty, Carter.”

“Thanks. You know how to make me feel better.”

“Hey, I have an idea. Let’s go out to lunch. You need to
get out of here.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on. It’s been over three weeks since you’ve been
home and all you do is sit in here. You need some fresh air. Going out will do
you some good. Go take a shower and wash your hair.”

“My hair?”

“Carter, you smell bad.”

“I do?”

“Uh huh. Now go. And we’ll go somewhere to eat.”

After some prodding, I realize she’s right. I haven’t
showered in days and I need to pull myself out of this funk I’m in. So I shower
and dress and Harper takes me to lunch. We chat about everything and anything,
but eventually the topic of Kestrel comes up.

“Why don’t you call him?” she asks.

“And why in the hell would I do that? He fucking left
me!”

“According to you, it was because he was afraid for
you.”

“Big fucking deal. If that were true, then why hasn’t he
even checked on me?”

Harper is silent. Then she says, “Excellent point. Fuck
the asshole.”

I bite my lips to keep from bursting into tears.

“Look, it’ll get better, I promise.”

“When?” I ask. “Because this feels like fucking hell
right now.”

“Yeah, I know.” She pats my hand.

My leg thumps up and down. I have to do something to get
my mind off crying. Every time I think of Kestrel, I want to break down into a
lump of soggy tears. Jeez. I was so stupid to let myself fall for him.

“When can you go back to work?” Harper’s hand reaches
under the table and grabs my knee to stop it from thumping. “You’re going to
rattle everything off the table.”

“I’m going to check with my doctor about work. If I sit,
I’m thinking maybe soon.”

“Good. You need to get out. Sitting in that house is
fucking with your head.”

“I know.”

The worst part of all is I want to see Ells’ room and I
can’t. It used to bring me peace and now my access is cut off.

“Hey Harper, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, hon.
What
is it?”

“After lunch, can you take me to Ells’ headstone? I need
to talk to her.”

“Sure thing.”

We finish up and Harper drives me to the cemetery. She
starts to get out of the car but I stop her, telling her I want to do this
alone. I walk to the marker and stand for a minute.

It’s chilly, but not too bad for a late January day.
Dropping to my knees, I lean my forehead against the granite.

Oh, Ells. I wish I could visit you in
your room, but I can’t anymore. I miss you so much. You’re going to have a
little brother or sister. No one knows yet. I’m really afraid. I don’t have
Geemama
or Big Papa to help me this time. But most of all,
I don’t have you. How did I screw up so badly? Where did I go wrong?

“Carter, are you okay?”

I look up to see Harper.

“Yeah. I always cry when I come here.”

She reaches out her hand and I take it as she helps me
stand. We walk back to her car.

“Going back to work will do you good. Talk to your
doctor.”

“I will.”

When we get back to the house, I make the call. He says
part time is okay, as long as I don’t stand for too long.
If
I go for a week and don’t tire, I can go back full time after two weeks.

On Monday, I go back to the lab. John greets me at the
door with a big grin and a hug. It gives me a warm glow to see my old home. Now
it’s my only home. The place I’m living will never feel like home. A few days
before, Uncle Foster presented me with the deed. He said Kestrel purchased the
place in my name and I own it free and clear. It would’ve been nice if Kestrel
had called and told me.

“I have everything just as you left it.” John’s voice
pulls me out of my reverie.

“Thank you, John.”

“StrongMeds will be down next week. They want to give
you a week to catch up before they visit.”

“Ha! I’ll need at least a couple of weeks. And if I’m
part time, maybe longer.”

“Better let Winston know then.”

“Yeah, you’re right. And thanks for everything, John.
You’ve been a blessing.”

His face turns ruddy. “It was nothing.”

It feels great diving into my work again. The day is
gone before I know it. John nudges me and reminds me I need to leave.

“I love my work so much. I can’t believe how much I’ve
missed it.”

“You need to follow your doctor’s orders.”

“But I feel great. Better than I’ve felt all month. He
said to let my body be my guide.”

“Go home, Carter. I want you back all well. Not tired
and broken.”

He doesn’t know how broken I am.

“John, I need to talk to you about something.” I bow my
head because I can’t look him in the eye. I fiddle with my thumbs.

“Sure. What is it?”

“I’m pregnant.” I can’t look up. I’m too afraid of what
I’ll see.

“Oh, Carter, that’s wonderful news!”

“Is it? How’s that? I’m all alone. The father doesn’t
even know.”

John takes my hands and in a soft voice asks, “Why
haven’t you told him?”

“Because he left me.”

“Hmm. I didn’t know that.”

“I know.”

“You have to tell him. He has a right to know.”

“I realize that. But … it’s difficult.”

“But he’s crazy about you.”

Oh, that’s what I thought, too. “Then why did he leave
me?”

“I don’t know. Have you asked him?”

“He claims it’s for safety reasons. He thinks I’m in
danger around him.”

“And you disagree.”

“It’s not that I disagree. It’s that he didn’t give me a
choice.”

“Call him.”

“He won’t take my calls.”

“Then you’ll do what anyone else would do. You’ll have a
baby and be the best mother you can be.”

And I break down and cry. Again. Like I always do when I
think about having a baby all by myself.

John shoves a bunch of tissues in my hand and keeps
assuring me all will be fine. He names every reason in the world why it will
and halfway convinces me. When I’ve calmed down, he packs up my stuff and walks
me to the elevator, promising to close up the lab. I get to the parking garage
and hear my heels echo on the concrete. For whatever reason, I get the eerie
feeling I’m being watched. I stop and look behind me, but I’m alone. It’s dark
and dingy in here, but it’s never felt creepy to me before. All this stuff
about the shooting has made me more paranoid, so I hurry to my car. When I get
home, the linebackers are on the porch waiting for me. I have to stop and
wonder why they don’t escort me so I ask.

“Hey, why don’t you guys go to work with me?”

“We’re told to cover the house only.”

“Who told you?”

“Mr. Hart.”

“What other security is there?”

“Cameras.”

“Is someone here all the time?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Hmm. Okay, that should make me feel better, but it
actually worries me more. Maybe there is more to this than I have allowed
myself to consider. If Kestrel thought it worth hiring these guys to patrol the
house continually, then he must’ve had his reasons. Also, did the police ever
catch the shooters?

I need to find out so I text Kestrel. But it reads
undelivered. So I call and I get a recording that the number has been
disconnected. Did he do that so I couldn’t get in touch with him? I’m beginning
to get pissed. Checking the time, I see it’s four p.m. So I try HTS. The
receptionist informs me that he’s out of the office. There’s one solid way to
find out. I get back in my car and drive up there. When I see his Lamborghini
in his parking space, I know he’s there.

The receptionist tries to stop me, but she’s no match
for me. Shayla is another matter. She’s obstinate and will protect her boss no
matter what. She stands in front of his office door, arms crossed, feet spread,
barring the entrance.

“Shayla let me pass.”

“I have instructions he’s not to be disturbed.”

“And I don’t care what your instructions are. Let me
through.”

“No.”

“Then this is going to be a long rest of the afternoon
for you because I’m not leaving. He has to come out eventually.”

Curious eyes are drawn to us as we have our showdown.

“This is ridiculous. Be reasonable, Shayla.”

“I am. I am his employee, following orders. When he
says, ‘No one,’ that means even you.”

I’ve finally reached my breaking point and yell, “Oh, for
the love of God, let me in his fucking office, now!”

“Watch your language!”

“Not until you open that fucking door!”

The door swings open and there he stands, hands on his
hips. “What the hell is going on out here?” Then his emerald irises land on me
and darken. He takes two steps and his fingers chain around my wrist. “Get in
here.”

He practically drags me inside and slams the door shut.
It bangs so loudly, all the paintings on the wall rattle and I think they’re
going to fall off.

“What the hell are you doing here? Trying to raise the
dead?”

“I’m trying to have a conversation with you, asshole,
but your phone has been disconnected and your receptionist is lying to me.”

A guilty look washes over his face. “It was for a good
reason.”

“Oh? Care to share it with me?” I can’t keep the
snarkiness out of my tone.

He rolls his shoulders back and doesn’t say anything.

“No comment, I see. Avoiding me as usual then.”

“Carter, it’s not what you think.” His voice is soft.

“And what exactly do I think, Kestrel? Tell me, because
I’m interested in knowing.”

Before I can process, he grabs my wrist again, pulls me
against the steel hardness of his chest and his lips crush mine. For a moment I
don’t react. But then anger soars into me, firing my blood, and I sink my teeth
into his lip. When he gasps, I wedge my palms between us, shove him away with
all my might, and then take a swing at him.

He ducks and avoids my arm. “What the fuck! You bit me!”

I glare at him and seethe. “You don’t have the right to
kiss me. You walked out of my life and fucking abandoned me.” My chest heaves
with emotion as we stare at each other.

I’m so angry I want to hit him again, but he sees it
coming and grabs my arm. I jerk it out of his grasp.

His voice is raised as he answers back, “It was for a
damn good reason!”

“You don’t get to make my life’s decisions. Only
I
get to do that.”

Now we’re both panting like two dogs as we have a stare
down. Then he reaches for my wrist again, but I evade him. Gesturing toward the
sitting area in the corner, he says, “Sit.”

Not a please.
Just a sit.

I stand there staring at him, toe tapping on the thick
carpet. Like everywhere else that touches his life, Kestrel’s office is
opulent, filled with pricey things.