Highways & Hostages (24 page)

He glanced at her, and she stared back up at him. Before he knew what was happening, she was closing the distance between them, pressing her lips gently against his. She pulled back after a moment, released Finn’s hands, and hurried from the room. As Finn continued to stare at the space where Stella had stood, he brought his uninjured hand to his mouth and ran a finger over his lips.

Stella rushed back into the sitting room, so lost in her thoughts that she ran directly into Derek’s chest. She looked up guiltily before stepping around him. So much for waiting until she was back in Vegas to deal with her love life. She didn’t know what had possessed her to kiss Finn, and now she felt terrible looking at Derek’s hopeful face.

Stella planted herself in front of Julian. “Where’s my car? Finn said you were sending a tow truck to pick it up.”

Julian looked down at her. “The tire is being replaced.” He paused. “You know, your car is extremely old. It would be my pleasure to buy you a new one—”

“Thank you, but that’s not really necessary,” Stella cut in.

“Well, at the very least, I’ll have it transported back to Las Vegas.”

“There’s no need for that; I can drive it back.”

“Oh…I thought you were going to ride back with Mr. Warner,” Julian said.

“Yeah, you have to be home for Phoebe. If you drive back, it’ll take you a couple days,” Derek said.

Stella bit her lip and frowned. “True. I guess you can have Josie shipped back.”

Finn and Yvonne came back into the living room, Finn’s injured hand still wrapped in the towel. Stella moved to sit in an armchair and avoided looking at him.

“What happened to your hand?” Julian asked as Finn balanced on the arm of the couch.

Finn shrugged. “Accident.”

“Well, we need to prepare to leave immediately, so get ready to go.”

A tap on her shoulder made Stella jump. She looked up at Derek with a frown.

“We also need to leave,” he said. “We’ve got a chartered plane to take us back to Vegas.”

“I need my bag; it was in the Beetle.” Stella was stalling. She wasn’t looking forward to spending the next few hours in close quarters with Derek. He’d want to talk about reviving their relationship, and she
definitely
wasn’t in the mood for that.

“I’ll send Davis to fetch your things,” Julian said. “If you all will excuse me. Yvonne?”

Julian exited the room with Yvonne following close behind. Stella, Derek, and Finn sat in uncomfortable silence. Derek leaned against the armchair in which she sat, as if he were her protector. Maybe he sensed what had just happened in the kitchen? Stella looked over at Finn, who was gazing off into space, his injured hand resting on his thigh. She sighed.

Yvonne returned to the living room with a first aid kit. Stella and Derek watched as she sat next to Finn on the couch and unwrapped the hand towel. Three of the knuckles on his right hand were swollen and bloodied. Yvonne took a bottle from the kit, poured some of its contents onto a cotton ball, and then swabbed it across Finn’s knuckles.

“Ouch!” he screeched, pulling backward. Derek snorted.

“Hold still. You’re worse than my grandchildren,” Yvonne chastised.

Derek cleared his throat. “Let’s figure out where your bag is and split.”

Julian re-entered the living room wearing his sunglasses and holding his briefcase. “Davis is on his way up with your bags. As soon as Yvonne is done, Jacob and I will leave.”

Derek nodded. “Stella and I will leave twenty minutes later.”

“Why twenty minutes?” Stella asked.

“If there’s anyone watching—and we’re pretty sure von Rothschild has eyes on Julian—we don’t want them to know that we’re linked,” Derek explained.

“Gotcha,” Stella said.

A knock sounded at the door. Yvonne answered it and accepted Finn and Stella’s baggage. Finn rose and stalked over. He snatched the bags from Yvonne and brought Stella’s to her, dropping it at her feet.

“I guess this is it,” he said, locking eyes with her. “Thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” Stella said. “I guess I’ll see you around the Leaky Stein.”

Finn started to shove his hand in his pocket, then seemed to remember it was injured. “Yeah, maybe.” He glanced at Derek. “This wire business…?”

“My team member, Cameron, will arrive at your condo tomorrow morning promptly at seven a.m. to outfit you with a wire.”

“That’s really fucking early.”

Derek shrugged. Finn glared at Derek a moment longer, then turned to Julian. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Julian, Yvonne, and Finn left the apartment without another word. Finn didn’t even spare a backward glance at Stella. She was irked by it, but had bigger problems to worry about.

Derek pushed himself off the armchair and sat on the couch. “So,” he said.

“What did you say to him earlier?” Stella asked.

“Why does it matter? As soon as we get a hold of Phoebe, you’re out of this.”

“Because I want to know, Derek. You can’t have a say in who I’m friends with, or prohibit me from doing anything. I’m a grown woman. And we’re not married.”

“Stella—”

“And even if we were, it still wouldn’t be acceptable. You know, ever since you showed up in Texas, you haven’t done yourself any favors. I don’t like what I’m seeing in you. Don’t try and pull any big man stuff with Finn; treat him like you do everyone else.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe. These guys—Beckham and von Rothschild—are major power players in the art crime world. They’ve built multimillion-dollar empires and have some serious resources at their disposal. You don’t want to get tangled up in this.”

Stella held up a hand. “I got it! Finn equals bad. Julian equals bad. But again, who I associate with is my choice, and mine alone.”

“I totally understand that, Stella, I really do. But I’ve been your partner for a year and a half, and it’s not so easy for me to just let you go. I don’t know why it’s so easy for you,” Derek snapped, standing and throwing his hands up.

Stella stood also and reached out a hand. “Derek—”

“You know what—I should probably call the pilot and see how things are looking for takeoff. I’ll be back.” He marched to the balcony doors.

Stella dropped her head into one hand and squeezed her temples.

Phoebe, 6:28 p.m.

Marc threw open the door to the room and Phoebe jolted awake. She had been dozing, but the evil grin on his face put her on high alert.

Oh shit,
she thought,
this is the end.
They’re going to kill me and chop my body into tiny, itty-bitty pieces and scatter it across the desert, and then vultures will dive down from the sky—

“Come on,” he said gruffly, no longer making an attempt at light-heartedness. He brandished a pair of heavy-duty scissors. “It’s time to go.”

Go where?
Phoebe wanted to scream. Would her parents ever find out what happened to her?
God, if you get me out of this, I will be a model human being. I’ll give up smoking. I’ll give money to every homeless person I see. I’ll help little old ladies cross the street.

He cut through the zip ties that bound her to the chair and lifted her by the upper arm, propelling her toward the door.

Should I fight?
No, he’ll be expecting that. I’ll just play along and pretend I’m too tired to do anything.

It really wasn’t that far from the truth. And then, when he least expected it, BAM! She’d have the advantage of surprise. Time to call on those drama club skills again.

Phoebe stumbled and went limp, as if too weak to walk. Marc’s brow furrowed as he jerked her to her feet. “What’s wrong with you?”

Phoebe lazily fluttered her eyes and let herself be led down the hall. At the top of the stairs, Marc ripped the tape from her mouth. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “For old times’ sake,” he said.

Instead of maneuvering her toward the fussy living room where he had taken her before, Marc pushed her toward the entrance of the mansion. Phoebe tensed. Christoph, the old bald guy, stood just before the door, talking to another old guy who looked like a much older version of Will. He had to be Will’s father. What was
he
doing here?

“He doesn’t want to see you,” Christoph was saying as Phoebe and Marc arrived in the foyer. His eyes lit on her. “Ah, here’s the woman of the hour.”

Phoebe eyed both of the men warily; the air around them almost crackled with energy. She wasn’t restrained, and her mouth wasn’t taped up. This was new. Were they letting her go?

Will’s dad stepped forward. “Miss Carstens?”

Phoebe hesitated. “Yeah?”

“I’m Julian Beckham,” he said with a formal little bow. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. I’m here to take you to your sister.”

In those stranger danger lectures her parents had given her, they’d always warned her not to let someone take her from one location to another. After all, look what happened with Will. Who was to say this guy actually was who he said he was? Maybe he was trying to lull her into a false sense of security and then kill her.

Phoebe narrowed her eyes. “Why should I trust you? This one kept me tied to a chair,” she said, jerking a thumb at Christoph.

“She’s a ray of sunshine, isn’t she?” Marc said.

“That will be all, Marc,” Christoph said, cutting his eyes at the man. Marc’s gaze slid to Phoebe and he lifted the corner of his mouth before hulking away.

“I could leave you here, if you like,” Julian said lightly. He turned toward the door.

Phoebe scrambled after him. “No way you’re leaving me behind.”

Julian looked over his shoulder and gestured for Phoebe to exit before him. “Christoph, I’ll be in touch.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he replied, his smile displaying a mouth full of dingy yellow teeth. “I hope you enjoyed your stay, Ms. Carstens. Do come back.”

Phoebe grunted and picked up her pace. She fought her inclination to dive into the back of the waiting black town car and instead poked a cautious head inside to look for Stella.

She straightened and regarded Julian with suspicion. “Where’s Stella?”

“She’s flying in from Texas to meet us at…the Leaky Stein Ale House.” Julian’s face puckered as he pronounced the name of the bar. He gestured at the car. “I promise you’ll come to no harm.”

Phoebe twisted toward Julian. “Texas? She’s been in Texas while I’ve been held hostage by that loony cue ball? UGH.”

Phoebe hesitated a moment longer, then climbed into the backseat. Julian scooted in after. She didn’t exhale until she felt the car begin to glide away.

“She’s very concerned about you,” Julian said, looking Phoebe over. “Are you hurt?”

Phoebe shook her head. “Just my pride,” she muttered. “How do you know my sister?”

“She’s been assisting one of my employees.”

That didn’t tell Phoebe much, but she didn’t think the man was going to confide in her, so she changed subjects. “This is a sweet car
and
you’ve got a driver. What do you guys do? Computers? You can make a lot of money in computers.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across Julian’s face. “Most definitely
not
computers. We work with fine art and antiques.”

As Julian rambled on about the types of antiques he specialized in, Phoebe tuned him out and watched the desert landscape fly by. After he finished his spiel, she turned back toward him.

“So, you’re Will’s dad?”

Julian nodded.

“Your kid’s an asshole.”

Julian let out a throaty laugh. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so. You’re blunt.” He paused. “I like it.”

Stella, 8:45 p.m.

Stella and Derek sat behind the Leaky Stein in his pickup truck, waiting for Julian to show up with Phoebe. The flight home was silent and awkward—reminiscent of their first date. She knew Derek wanted to talk to her, but all she’d been able to think about was Phoebe. She was really sorry she hadn’t made more of an effort to spend time with her sister this summer. Now, she gazed out of the passenger window and twirled a few strands of hair.

“You know she’s fine, right?” Derek said. Startled out of her thoughts, Stella turned and looked at him. “If she’s not, I’ll bring the wrath of the FBI down on their heads.”

“Thanks…I know you will,” she replied. She took a breath. “I’m really sorry for being so harsh earlier. This has been a…stressful situation to say the least, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior. I really do appreciate all you’ve done.”

Derek stared ahead through the windshield, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Sorry for putting the tracker on your car—I admit I was out of line with that. Can you just answer me this: Do you care about him?”

Stella felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I kissed him earlier,” she said in a rush. She heard Derek’s sharp intake of breath and looked down at her lap, wringing her hands. “I don’t know why I did it, and I’m not sure what it means. Can we chalk it up to confusion?”

“What do you want from me?” Derek asked. “Look at me and be honest.”

Stella looked into Derek’s face. She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, Derek. I don’t even know what I want from myself, and I’m pretty sure that’s part of the problem. Can you give me time to figure that out?”

“Of course. I’ll give you all the time in the world. I meant what I said about us being partners. Just because you gave me back the ring doesn’t mean I’m not still around to fix your broken shower head or bounce around ideas…even if you choose someone else over me.” Derek gave her a sad smile.

A weight seemed to lift from Stella’s chest, and at the same time she felt a rush of warmth toward the man sitting beside her. If there was anything he could have said to make her consider continuing their engagement, that was it. Stella was her mother’s daughter: a free spirit. Though she loved Derek’s stability, she also needed freedom and the ability to make her own choices.

Stella found herself tearing up. She quickly turned to the passenger window and swiped at her face.

Headlights blazed directly in front of the truck. A black Town Car rolled up to the pickup’s bumper and stopped. Derek and Stella threw open their doors at the same time and tumbled out of the cab. Before the driver of the car could even open his door, one of the rear doors flung open and Phoebe bounded out.