Page 13 of Allie's Shelter
“Carpenter.”
Chapter three
Allie stared out the window again, resisting the urge to listen. It wasn’t like she’d get anything from the guttural, monosyllabic replies Ross called conversation.
She watched rural South Carolina roll by in various shades of green, from the low fields to the tall loblolly pines. She’d once found it monotonous, now she found the reliable scenery a comforting balm to her nerves.
She’d wanted to come home, for safety and a moment to breathe and assess before taking action. She thought of the flash drive in her bag, the passwords on her computer. And the law office that had yet to return her calls. What action could she take that would end in justice? How ridiculous that she’d become a whistle blower before she had any idea of how and where to blow the whistle.
She’d been so shocked when no one in her own company wanted to do anything that would jeopardize the potential profit. And when she’d reviewed the data, she realized the regulatory side was equally culpable. Frightened, knowing she was being followed, she’d reached out, only to hit brick walls with her media contacts who were too afraid to tarnish the shiny, caring image her company projected to the community.
In the reflection on the window, she watched Ross put the phone back in the cup holder. “Who was that?”
“A client. I told him to deal with my assistant.”
“Really? More of the complicated and confidential sort of thing? What work does your team do besides babysit for the sheriff?”
She saw the hesitation, recognized his search for the right words.
“We handle private security issues. The variety of the work is what I find most appealing. While we often pick up extra details for the state, we have civilian clients too.”
“Do you ever do the bodyguard thing?” Maybe she should hire him.
“Rarely. Mostly we focus on private investigations or recovery situations.”
She added that up quickly, not liking the answer at all. “Recovery situations,” she echoed, as the pieces fit together. His appearance in a town he’d sworn off after high school might not be simple coincidence. No matter what Ross kept saying, she couldn’t help but wonder if her boss had managed to hire Ross’s team when she’d disappeared.
Their ten-year high school reunion flashed through her mind. She hadn’t seen his name listed with those who planned to attend, but she’d been hopeful. Hopeful—and naive, as it turned out. She’d jumped into her career with both feet and had returned to the event on top of the world and ready to mend fences with Ross.
Except he hadn’t been there. He’d been busy on a mission, and only sent in a picture for the scrapbook. She remembered the smile on his face as he stood there in his combat uniform, armed to the teeth against the nameless desert stretched out behind him.
“…been at it a couple years now,” he was saying. “Built up a reputation.”
“I’m sure.” She was sure he was good at his job. He always applied his best effort to reach his goals. From dating her, to being the best soldier in the field. Her mind wouldn’t let go of the possibility that he was in town to recover her. She eyed his phone, timed her move as he made the next turn and snatched it up to check the call history.
“What the—? Allie,” he said in a menacing voice, but he didn’t make a grab for it.
“Oh, ignore me and keep driving. If you aren’t going to admit I’m really your assignment, I might as well do my own investigating.”
He muttered something unintelligible and most likely unflattering.
“Fine,” he said. “The sheriff didn’t hire my team solely to keep an eye on the neighborhood. While he did have complaints about a stranger nosing around, he wanted me to keep an eye out for you at your aunt’s place.”
She still didn’t think that was all of it. Although she didn’t hide her past, she didn’t talk much about her hometown at work, so someone had done some digging to find Haleswood and Aunt Ruth specifically. “Who could have told him I might show up?”
“That’s privileged information.” He cleared his throat. “Security matters.”
She wished she felt secure. “Come on, Ross.”
“Cochran gave me the impression your aunt called.”
That actually made some sense. Her last call on her old phone had been to Aunt Ruth. The new phone had clearly been a good idea, even if she’d felt a little silly about her paranoia at the time.
“Your turn,” he prompted.
She hesitated, wondering what he was up to when he changed lanes at the last minute and aimed the car back toward Haleswood. “That’s privileged too.” She ignored the derisive sound he made. “No, it really is. I’m afraid to tell you exactly what happened, but I promise I didn’t do anything close to what they’re trying to pin on me.”
“What did you do?”