Hot Pursuit (25 page)

“Tell your dad that I don’t have a boyfriend. Thank him for delivering the burger. The man who ordered it—is” she thought quickly—“doing some work for me.”

Angel could tell Petey knew what the note said. The boy grinned but didn’t move. Was he seriously only twelve? Twelve-year-old boys didn’t know about casual relationships, did they?

“What kind of work?” he asked, rocked up on his heels, and grinned even broader.

“And you and your father need to get your minds out of the gutter,” she scolded, wagging a finger at him. Again she thought on her toes, deciding there was no harm in letting the boy take a message back to his father. After all, it was good news for all of the shop owners. She leaned forward on the counter. Petey, undaunted, didn’t move an inch. “Tell your father my friend is doing work that will benefit all of us. Now scat, before I tell your mother what kinds of thoughts are on your mind.”

Petey sobered instantly. “Do you mean Cortez?” he whispered.

“Scat, Petey,” she warned, unwilling to say anything more than she already had. Something told her Wolf wouldn’t like it if she started talking about what he was doing. “And deliver my message word for word. If I hear that you didn’t, I’ll tell your mother that your mind was in the gutter.”

Petey laughed. “My mother doesn’t even know where the gutter is,” he informed Angel, and was out the door.

“Wow,” she mumbled under her breath when the boy had gone. What a kid!

Angel pulled her burger out and unwrapped the paper halfway, then took a generous bite. She forgave Wolf for leaving the message as she enjoyed her lunch. She washed down her first few bites with a cup of fresh coffee. There was paperwork to do and probably shelves to straighten, but she stole a few coveted minutes sitting on her stool and simply staring out her front windows, food in one hand and coffee in the other.

She loved her town. Zounds was so beautiful and filled with good people. They were a quiet little fishing community. Tourists trickled in from time to time, some of them discovering the beauty of the town on their way to the redwoods or simply traveling up or down the state. Zounds was far enough off the main interstate not to be where most tourists stopped, but that was okay. They weren’t a wealthy community, but most in town got by. Of course that was before Cortez had reared his ugly head and dug his devil’s fingers deep into the community before any of them had been able to stop him.

Once Cortez had bought the bank and deposited his people into positions of power, either bribing those who had already worked there or managing to get those fired who had worked in places Cortez wanted to control and bringing in his own people, the damage had been done. That had been ten years ago. Angel had been twenty. Her father had already passed on, and her mother had been dying of cancer. The fatal disease had taken both of Angel’s parents from her so fast she’d been too preoccupied taking care of them and fighting to keep the store open to cover their bills.

Once she had buried both of her parents, the store had become her lifeline. Angel had buried herself as well in her work, thriving on the long hours with no employees. She hadn’t looked beyond her front door to see what was going on in her town. As well, Cortez had left her bookstore alone the first few years he’d lived in Zounds. When she’d first received the letter informing her that there was a buyer interested in buying the building where her bookstore was and that, if she agreed, her mortgage payments would go away and her rent would be a fraction of the amount, Angel had signed on the line with delighted enthusiasm. She’d barely had a penny to rub against another at the time, since she’d still been paying off medical bills from when her parents had been ill.

After she’d sold the building, her rent payments to Cortez had been half the amount of her mortgage payments. Angel had been able to unbury herself from her debts and started seeing a small profit from her bookstore. She’d made some improvements, bought new bookshelves, and given her store a much-needed face-lift. Angel had even legally changed the name of the store. Bob’s Bobbins and Books had been retired, put to rest along with her parents. Angel had been twenty-five when her bookstore had officially been born. She still remembered standing outside with pride and staring up at the shiny new sign attached to the top of her storefront that said:
ANGELINA’S BOOKSTORE
. The town had come in to see their new bookstore. Angel made new customers. New regulars trailed in on a regular basis. The bookstore made even more of a profit.

Angel had been twenty-seven when she’d taken her first vacation. She had hired two girls, who were good workers, each of them working part-time and coming in on opposite days to allow Angel time to do paperwork, go over inventory, and make sure they always carried the right books that her customers liked to buy.

Taking another bite of her burger, Angel remembered with bittersweet fondness the first time Zoey had entered her store. The shy teenager hadn’t said a word to anyone as she’d browsed the shelves and taken a fondness to biographies and romance novels. At first, Angel had thought Zoey the daughter of a new family in town. Angel had been kind to her, as she was to all her customers. She understood now the peculiar look on Zoey’s face the first time Angel had asked her if there were any particular books Zoey would like to see in the store. Angel had promised to order them and have them in the next time Zoey came in.

Now Angel understood that Zoey was treated like crap for the crimes of her father by those already under his fierce, bloodsucking control. No one had told Angel what Cortez was slowly doing to their community. She remembered Zoey’s surprised and almost confused expression over Angel’s kindness, because it had been the next day that Angel had been paid a visit. The owner of her building had wanted a percentage of the store’s income. If Angel had refused, her rent would triple, which would have made it a lot more than her old mortgage payments had been.

Angel had tried fighting Cortez. She’d called the only lawyer she knew in Zounds, the one who had made up her parents’ wills. He had told Angel that he was retired and couldn’t help her. A couple weeks later Angel had found out that was a lie. The lawyer was still practicing law. From that point forward, he wouldn’t return her calls. Angel had reached out further, searching for legal help outside of Zounds. One lawyer had taken the time to look over the letters and her lease. He had looked at Angel as if she were an idiot when he’d pointed out several clauses in her ten-page lease that allowed Cortez to do exactly what he was doing. Angel had been sick when she’d left the law office and driven back to Zounds.

Cortez took his cut of her earnings. People began speaking about his pretty daughter who came into their shops, acting like she didn’t know her father was sucking them dry. Zoey had known. She never complained when she was forced to pay more for an item than the tag said the price was. Angel remembered when Zoey had first asked how much a book was when the price had clearly been marked on the book.

Finishing her burger, she crumpled the paper it had been wrapped in and tossed it in her trash can. That had been the summer Angel and Zoey had begun a kindred friendship, one out of necessity for both of them. It had also been the summer Angel had indulged and taken her first weekend off since her parents had both passed on. She had rented a cabin and toured Redwood National Park. The park was barely an hour’s drive from Zounds, yet Angel had never been there, an embarrassing thing to admit to any of her customers.

It had been a wonderful vacation. She had been in awe of the incredibly large and beautiful trees and had even met a man who worked in the park and had dated him for a while. Angel had finally admitted to herself that she was married to her store and had broken off the relationship when he had wanted more of a commitment than she could give.

That had been four years ago. The past year or so, Cortez had sent more letters, made more demands. Today it was impossible to have part-time employees. Taking time off for herself wasn’t even in the picture. She sipped at her coffee, daring to dream how all of that might end soon. Angel wouldn’t even allow herself to think where her profit margin might lie if Cortez were completely out of the picture.

She spotted Brutus before he entered her store. Angel’s lunch and the coffee she had drunk slowly began churning in her stomach when she realized he was coming into her store. When the small work truck pulled up in front yet no one got out, Angel almost breathed a sigh of relief when Brutus stopped and spoke to the driver. It was terrible of her to be relieved thinking Brutus might be ruining someone else’s day instead of hers. There wasn’t time to feel guilty when Brutus turned from the truck and entered her store.

“No time for small talk today, Miss Matisse,” Brutus said, his usual ugly sneer in place.

“Good thing,” she informed him, remaining on her stool. Angel was glad no one else was in the store. She had no intention of being nice to the asshole. “Get out of my store, jerk.”

Brutus laughed and walked up to the counter. “I don’t think so. I see your guard dog isn’t on the premises. Where is he?”

Angel felt a wave of confidence she’d never known around this man before. “You’d love to know, wouldn’t you?” she sneered back at him, her stomach relaxing a notch. Wolf had Brutus nervous. Angel swallowed a giddy sensation of excitement. It almost made her light-headed. “Maybe you should start looking for another job, Brutus. Although I doubt there is anyone in Zounds hiring assholes right now.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Brutus roared.

Angel jumped in spite of herself. She wouldn’t pray that Wolf show up soon. She hadn’t needed a guard dog before now, and she could hold her ground in her own store against this man.

“I wouldn’t try to confuse your small brain by explaining,” she said callously.

Brutus slapped a pink form down on her counter. Angel glanced at it with mild interest but wasn’t going to stand and move closer. In spite of her wave of confidence that Wolf might possibly be taking Cortez down as she and Brutus spoke, she wasn’t going to trust her legs not to wobble if she slid off her stool.

“Where is Zoey?” Brutus demanded, changing the subject.

Angel shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Oh yes, you do. She has your car. And I seriously doubt anyone would take your car this long and you not know where she is.”

Cortez couldn’t find his daughter. Angel’s confidence grew even more. Zoey was still safe.

“Pretty sad that even with his thugs sniffing around, Cortez still isn’t good enough to find his own daughter.” Angel grinned at the snarling man facing her.

“Oh, we’ll find her. You’re going to tell us where she is right now.” Brutus pushed the pink piece of paper over the counter with his thick finger.

“I don’t do threats,” she whispered, ignoring the paper and staring into his cold eyes.

“Oh, you’ll do this one.” Brutus turned toward the door and made a beckoning gesture.

Angel didn’t understand at first when a man got out of his truck, pulling his ball cap low over his face as he approached her door. Instead of entering, he put a small toolbox at his feet and held a screwdriver in his hand. He began messing with the handle on her front door.

“Hey, what is he doing?” Angel demanded, jumping off her stool without thinking.

She was around the counter and blocked from reaching her door when Brutus shoved the pink piece of paper that had been on her counter in her face. Angel took it dumbly and read it, although the words didn’t register.

“Your store is being seized,” Brutus said, his words ice when they sliced through her and froze her where she stood. “You’re being evicted. Your locks are being changed. From this point forward, Angelina’s Bookstore is closed for business. You must leave the premises right now.”

“You can’t do this!” Angel cried out, shoving the pink piece of paper into Brutus’s chest.

“Where is Zoey?” he demanded.

His voice was so low and threatening Angel took a step backward.

“I don’t know,” she whimpered, looking frantically at the locksmith, who seemed to be working at frightening speed in changing her locks. This couldn’t be happening. Cortez was going down, not gaining even more power to destroy her life.

“If you want to grab a few personal belongings, you may, but I’m watching you.”

“A few what?” Her head was spinning.

“Tell me where Zoey is and all of this will stop.” Brutus had never sounded so gentle, so promising.

“I don’t know!” she screamed.

Brutus grabbed her arm and flung her toward the front door. Angel barely managed to brace herself as she startled the locksmith on the other side of the door when her shoulder hit the glass. Brutus moved faster and with more agility than she realized he had. He made it behind her counter, grabbed her purse, and brought it to her. Before she could register the reality of what was happening, he yanked open the door and shoved her and her purse outside of her store.

“Until you tell us where she is, you have no store and no home.” He nodded at her purse. “Call the number on the card I stuffed in your bag,” he said, sounding disgusted that he had to touch anything that was hers. “I doubt you’ll like being homeless for long. It gets cold at night and don’t think anyone in Zounds will be giving you a room.”

Cortez was taking her store. All she had to do was turn Zoey over and all of this would stop. Angel couldn’t hold back the tear that burned her cheek. Her lunch swelled in her gut, and acid burned the back of her throat. Everything she had ever known. All that she had ever loved. How could this be happening? That fucking asshole from hell was supposed to be being stopped, not completely destroying her life.

It was Zoey’s life—and Angel didn’t doubt for a moment the wrath Zoey would suffer if her father found her—or Angel’s bookstore.

“Don’t do this to me.” All of her confidence was gone. Panic gripped her so hard she could barely breathe. She stared at the baldheaded man with his thick, grotesque body and narrow, beady eyes. He seemed to grow bigger, appear stronger, the longer she looked at him.