Hot Pursuit (13 page)

She shook her head. “Nothing before the store opens. It’s always been that way.”

“Didn’t you mention an inspection?”

Angel turned and looked at Wolf. The dark clouds of dominating lust were gone. His clear dark green eyes were focused on her bedroom door. She imagined him capable of springing forth and removing any threat that might exist around her without breaking a sweat.

Whoever it was knocked again, this time hard enough Angel heard glass rattling as they hit it with their fist.

“Good God,” she groaned, sliding off the end of her bed and returning to the living room.

She knew when she bent over to grab her jeans she gave Wolf one hell of a view. For some reason she liked the idea of keeping him tormented. It served him right after the way he controlled her body and kept her pinned over her coffee table and couch. He’d made her come so hard she was still weak from it. She stepped into her jeans, pulled them up, and fastened them. Then turning to face him, she tugged on her T-shirt.

“Rain check?” she asked.

Wolf’s hand shot out when she turned to the stairs. “Maybe you should put something else on before going downstairs.”

The pounding sounded again. “Angelina Matisse, unlock these doors,” a male voice ordered from outside her store.

Angel glared at the stairs leading down to her bookstore. Wolf had guessed accurately. She didn’t doubt it for a moment. It was whoever Cortez had sent to do the inspection. Her anger rose faster than her orgasm had hit her. How dare that man assume he would be granted entrance when the store wasn’t even open. His bullying tone pissed her off to the point she clenched her fists at her sides.

“I’ll be damned if I’m putting on something nice for that motherfucker’s henchman,” she snarled.

Wolf’s touch was unexpectedly gentle. “Don’t dress up,” he said calmly. “But don’t give the slime bag an eyeful, either. He definitely doesn’t deserve it.”

She stared at Wolf. Angel couldn’t decide if he was being protective or simply kind. If he was trying to lay some claim on her, he would be seriously disappointed. She wasn’t single because she couldn’t find a man, far from it. Or maybe he was being logical. Wolf saw how much she hated Cortez. Maybe Betsy had complained about him, too. God knows if a guest was willing to linger at the bed-and-breakfast long enough, they would learn all there was about Zounds that was worth complaining about.

“Fine,” Angel decided, and marched past Wolf back into her bedroom.

She pulled off the clothes she’d put on this morning before heading down to clean out and organize her storage room. Now, other than a light, it was cleaner than she probably could have found time to make it herself. Although she doubted this inspection would have anything to do with how clean her store was.

Angel tossed her T-shirt and jeans, which now she noticed were a bit smeared with dirt from the work she’d done before Wolf had shown up, into her clothes basket and walked naked across her bedroom. Wolf had moved and lingered in her doorway, watching her. Angel didn’t look at him. The man outside on the sidewalk yelled for her again to unlock her store and let him in. Angel decided on a thong and matching lace bra. She then donned a pair of her comfortable jeans and a sleeveless V-neck sweater. Then facing Wolf, she marched toward him, and he moved to let her out. She wasn’t sure whether she was grateful that he didn’t touch her or not.

Angel’s knees were weak when she reached the bottom of the stairs and realized it was Brutus. She’d been pissed when she had thought Cortez would send one of his bulldogs to do an inspection. He hadn’t sent his bulldogs. Brutus was Cortez’s pit bull. If she made him wait much longer, Brutus would rip off the front door to her store. He was pure-bred asshole.

She rushed to the front of the store and around the counter. Then, grabbing the keys to the store, she raced back around the counter to the front door. She was vaguely aware of Wolf, standing quietly in the middle of the store with his arms crossed against his muscular chest.

“Don’t you ever make me wait that long again before letting me in,” Brutus snarled as he stormed into her store. “Do you understand me, Miss Matisse?”

“I was upstairs,” she began, fighting her rage.

Brutus curled his lip as he glared at Wolf. The man’s bald head glowed red with anger when he gave Wolf a disapproving snarl.

“Who the fuck is this?” Brutus glowered at Wolf, but the question was addressed to Angel.

She opened her mouth to answer.

“Who are you?” Wolf asked, his voice so relaxed it was insulting.

Brutus ignored the question and turned on Angelina. “Tell him to leave.”

“I’m staying,” Wolf told him.

Brutus spun around. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Even if I were, your method of intimidation wouldn’t work on me.”

Angel stared at the two men. Brutus was all muscle and, yes, the master of intimidation. She understood he wasn’t the backbone of the threat, though. Cortez was the only man who could seriously make her life hell. Wolf, on the other hand, didn’t know anything about her history with the monster who had laid prey to Zounds ten years ago. Within a year of living here, Cortez had bought almost every commercial building in the town. He practically owned the entire community, and his demands had grown more and more unreasonable with every passing year.

“I received the letter informing me there would be an inspection.” Angel gave Wolf a hard look when Brutus slowly turned his twisted expression in her direction. “Exactly what is it that you want to inspect?”

“Everything,” Brutus snapped. “The boss needs to know each business under contract with him is withstanding. If not, we’ll put in a business that will be.”

Angel put her hands on her hips and stared Brutus down. She gathered her inner strength that she possessed regardless of Wolf standing just behind Brutus.

“I am not under contract with Mr. Cortez. I’d appreciate you reminding him of that for me.”

“Yes, you are,” Brutus snarled. He started toward the counter. “I need to see all receipts for the past week, or the past month, which would be better. Where are they?”

When Angel remained planted where she was and didn’t move, Brutus shoved her out of the way and continued to the counter. She stumbled into the bookshelf nearest the counter. She and all of her self-help books damn near tumbled to the ground.

Wolf grabbed her by the arm, steadying her, but then let her go and moved with silent ferocity after Brutus.

“Stay away from my register,” Angel ordered, outraged that this prick had just shoved her.

She was grateful that Wolf prevented her from falling along with a bunch of books and possibly hurting herself and damaging merchandise. But this was her store. She was in charge here. Except one man was bullying her and another man was dominating her.

“If your bookstore isn’t making the cut, Miss Matisse,” Brutus warned, “when your lease is up another store will move in here.”

“Like hell!” Angel rushed around Wolf to Brutus. “You have no right to do this. It’s illegal. I pay my rent every month on time and have as long as this bookstore has been here. How much the store makes is none of your goddamn business. Leave, Brutus. This inspection is over.”

Brutus turned his beady glare on her. His gray eyes had always reminded her of a dead soul. She instinctively took a step backward when Brutus stalked toward her.

“The boss is aware of your continual insubordination,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “Refusing this inspection will be the death of your precious bookstore.” He pointed behind him. “Where is the key to that register?”

“There isn’t any money in it,” she informed him, straightening to her full height.

Brutus could crush her with half his weight. Angel would never let him see her fear, though. The prick was a bully and a criminal. Somehow she’d figure out a way to shut Cortez down, if it was the last thing she ever did.

“Open the register.”

“What kind of inspection is this?” Wolf demanded, his tone still so relaxed it sounded odd considering the amount of tension already built in the air since Brutus entered.

“You’d be smart to do as you’re told,” Brutus warned, lowering his voice and his head as he stared hard at Angel. “People who challenge Mr. Cortez don’t stay in business very long. If you aren’t making enough money, you have until your lease ends to vacate the premises. If you don’t do as I ask, you’ll be out of here by the end of the week.”

“I stay in business because I run an honest, legal store,” Angel said. She prayed neither man noticed her trembling and at the same time was grateful her parents never had to endure this Mafia madman who’d seized Zounds and was slowly squeezing the life out of it. “Those who don’t run a straight-up business are the ones who won’t last long.”

Angel saw Brutus charge, but she wasn’t out of his way in time. He grabbed her arm, pinching her skin with his fingers as he held it up between them, and tried giving her a firm shake.

“Are you threatening Emilio Cortez?” Brutus roared.

Angel went limp in Brutus’s hold when she stared at the gun Wolf held pointed at Brutus’s head. Where the hell had that come from? She barely managed to not start panicking and wouldn’t dwell on where Wolf had the gun stashed when he’d been pressed up against her.

“Let go of her and leave,” he said in that eerie calm tone of his. “And if you ever step back in this store again, you or your boss, you’ll regret that you did.”

Chapter Seven

Betsy had told Ben that Wolf had his breakfast almost two hours earlier, then had left for a nice walk. Ben hadn’t wanted to talk to Wolf but had knocked on his door. When there was no answer, Ben accepted that the man wasn’t there. His Escalade was parked in the parking lot behind the bed-and-breakfast. Wolf didn’t seem like the walking type, but maybe the bed-and-breakfast owner had been right and the guy did go walking around the town.

Ben didn’t have any desire to walk around town searching for him. He would make other plans for the day.

After dropping Zoey at her car the night before, then following her on his bike to a beautiful old Victorian home, he’d driven around for several hours searching for any sign of Micah. He’d found none.

Initially, picking up Zoey had been the perfect ruse to leave the bed-and-breakfast without suspicion. Ben didn’t want Wolf suspecting him of doing anything other than what they’d decided together that they would do. If Wolf thought Ben was driving through Zounds searching for something, he would quickly jump to the conclusion that Ben knew where Micah was. Right now, Ben had Wolf convinced he was after the bounty on Micah’s head just as Wolf was.

Ben walked across the parking lot, aware of how much colder it was than it had been the night before. His blood wasn’t used to the chill in the air, and he wondered if the light leather jacket he wore would be enough on his bike. He reached his Harley and straddled it, then stared at his side mirror. Leaning closer, he squinted and read the message that looked as if it had been written in lipstick.

Redwood National Park at noon. 1.4 miles after main entrance, turn right, go one-half a mile, turn left, and park at the third tree.

His heart skipped a beat, then began pattering against his chest. Ben patted himself down, searching for something to write with, and finally gave up and put the message to memory. He used his palm to smear the message off his side mirror and gunned his Harley to life.

It was a hell of a lot colder in the mornings in Zounds than it was in L.A. He sat on the bike for a moment, letting it warm up. If he’d learned anything from Greg King while working for him, it was to never race into a situation without analyzing every angle of it.

The first angle Ben explored and accepted was that he would freeze his balls off riding on his Harley without a heavier coat. Turning the bike off, he recited in his head the directions that he’d just smeared off his rearview mirror as he hurried back into the bed-and-breakfast.

“Sorry,” he apologized to a startled Betsy when he bounded up the stairs to the second floor.

“You’re in a hurry.” She laughed after regaining her wits about her.

“I forgot my heavier coat!” he called over his shoulder.

Back on his bike, he was a lot warmer with his heavy leather jacket. He’d also taken time to jot down the directions he’d been given. He needed to buy a GPS to have on his bike. Ben had made it so far getting around without one, but then he’d never driven in unfamiliar territory.

The directions didn’t tell him how to get out of Zounds or which highway to take to get to Redwood National Park. He knew the redwoods were north of Zounds only because he and Wolf hadn’t run into them on their drive up here from L.A. So Ben would head north. He left the bed-and-breakfast and kept to the twenty-mile-an-hour speed limit until he reached one of the main roads of Zounds.

Then turning north, he found himself heading into the small downtown area. He didn’t care if it was a guy thing, Ben wasn’t much into asking for directions. It wasn’t that he was opposed to someone explaining how he should get somewhere. But too often another person might give bad directions or worse yet, wrong directions.

Pulling his cell phone from his inner coat pocket, he glanced at the time. It was ten. He would stop somewhere and grab an atlas. Then he could confirm where he was going. It didn’t bother him arriving early. Ben preferred casing out the area, especially for a meeting like this. Micah was in deep hiding, but it was imperative Ben speak with him.

That is, if the message was from Micah; lipstick on a rearview mirror didn’t quite seem his style. Although his new wife, Maggie, might have left the message.

Ben pulled into the first place that would carry atlases, which happened to be a small grocery store. The parking lot was a fraction of the size of his grocery stores back home. Ben hadn’t decided how he felt about such a small town. Having grown up in the L.A. area he only knew the big-city life. He watched two women pass each other at the one set of automatic doors leading into the store. They stopped to talk to each other, ignoring the few people who came and went around them.