Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“Have you now?” she asks, and I notice the way she allows the “father” reference, without correcting him.
“I did my research on you two. Sit, please.” He motions to the chairs in front of the desk and rounds them to claim his own. We all sit.
“I’m sorry to hear about your son,” Ana states, clearly testing him.
His lips flatten. “Stepson from a prior marriage and we weren’t close, but yes, it’s tragic for her, I’m sure. And pardon me if that sounds cold. We men do have our own way of dealing with such things.”
There’s a hollow sound behind those words that tells another story. He is not as cold to Newman’s death as he wants us to believe. “You researched us and followed us,” I say, punching at him, when his mind is elsewhere, “Tell me why.”
“We all know why. I want something Ana’s brother had until his untimely death. The seller can’t seem to produce it, and my insiders inside their operation tell me they once again believe you have it. I just want my treasure. I’m hoping we can cut out the middleman and I can pay you for it and move on.”
“We don’t even know what it is,” Ana replies. “We just know everyone suddenly thinks I have it.”
His eyes fix on Ana. “Why is that?”
“I have no idea. Kasey came home in a casket. It’s not like he handed it to me or hid it at The Ranch. Believe me, I’d hand it over, if I could. I want out of this.”
He leans in closer and studies her, then me, then her again. “I don’t believe you.”
“That doesn’t change my answer,” Ana replies coolly. “And continuing to come at us for something we don’t have is a bit like putting a square peg in a circular hole. It won’t work.”
“It will if you blow up the hole,” he comments dryly.
I decide I’ve had enough. It’s time for answers. “Shouldn’t you be grieving your son, rather than throwing a party?”
His gaze jerks to mine and his lips curve in a twisted smirk. “I could tell you that it’s an annual event for a charity my son supported with all his heart.”
I arch a brow. “But?”
“He became a problem, just as Kasey did for you.”
I laugh and run a hand over my jaw. “Am I supposed to flinch?” I challenge. “Or is she? Not happening. But when we think about who’s pissed at who, it sounds like you have an impatient buyer on your hands.”
“Extremely impatient.”
“I already told your people—because I assume the goons chasing us are, in fact, your people, that I’d find what you want. For the right price, that is, but I need to actually know what I’m looking for.” I leave it at that. I’ve volleyed back to him, and now I wait, to find out if he’s going to tell me he’s the buyer or the seller.
“I get it,” he states. “You want to stop playing games. I do, too, and that’s exactly why you’re here. To get to the facts. No more digging for answers. No more hiding the truth. No more middlemen. We’re here, the three of us, just getting it all on the table. I’m the buyer. I’m also the seller. A man can’t live on football alone. I deal in fine collectibles and occasionally one crosses my path I want to make my own. This is one of those times. I want this prize for my personal collection. You already said you’d get it for me. You have one more day to deliver it to The Ranch, as promised.”
And there it is. His confirmation that he was the one chasing us, and his men killed Darius, Jake, and who knows who else. Kurt was right. Phillips is the king. “I need five days after you tell me what I’m looking for.”
He tilts his chair back and studies me for a good sixty seconds before he says, “The Natilda coin, worth a cool one million dollars if sold, but priceless to a collector such as myself.”
“Okay then,” I say, unaffected by the naming of a coin, that means nothing to me, outside a means to an end. “Let’s negotiate. We’ll find it. You forget us.”
“Agreed,” he says, leaning forward. “But I’ll need collateral.” He glances at Ana and then at me. “She’ll do.”
It’s an expected response, and one Ana addresses, meeting his stare as she says, “At least your wife won’t mind.”
His brow furrows. “What does that mean?”
“Well, she’s so into Savage, and all. Did you know that Savage is an assassin, and while Kurt would argue differently, I personally believe he rivals his skill. He’s also young and hot.” She eyes me. “You too, honey.”
“What she’s saying,” I add, “is that you might want to find out where your wife is right now.”