Part 12 (1/2)
”Fine. So we have no idea where he is or what he's up to.” I clicked my pen as I pondered my next move. A part of me worried about the road I was going down, but things couldn't get more f.u.c.ked up than they already were. Might as well go all the way down the rabbit hole. ”Get me the mother's address.”
”You going to see her?”
”That's the plan.”
”Let me come with you. Could be totally harmless, but you shouldn't go alone.”
The protective tone of his voice took me by surprise. I silently wondered if I had damsel in distress tattooed on my forehead, but in truth I wasn't wild about going on this venture by myself either.
”It's okay. I can handle this.”
He didn't look any more comfortable with my solo plan, and I couldn't help but give him points for caring. Still, I wasn't getting him any more involved in this mess, especially if it meant outing Blake's a.s.sociation with Cooper's death.
”Don't worry, James. I won't be alone.”
I stepped out onto the street and came face to face with an imposing man standing guard by a black Escalade parked at the curb.
”Ms. Hathaway.”
He took a step in my direction and I resisted the urge to take a defensive step back. His sheer size took me aback. This man had been hired to protect me.
”Hi, Clay.” I shook his hand, which engulfed my own. He was well over six-feet tall, and his black T-s.h.i.+rt strained over his enormous muscular arms. He looked every bit the part of a bodyguard, except for the kind light gray eyes that contrasted beautifully with his dark skin.
”Mr. Landon has instructed me to escort you wherever you need to go.”
I suppressed the urge to take my irritation at Blake out on him. Not that I really could. ”Perfect. I need a ride to Revere.”
He nodded and opened the back door for me. I hopped in and gave him the address, hoping against hope that Clay wasn't under orders to report my whereabouts to Blake too.
A short while later, Clay pulled up to a large colonial-inspired home in an impressive new development. Unlike their well-kept neighbors though, whoever lived here didn't spend much time maintaining appearances. The gra.s.s was tall and weeds thrived through the cracks in the path to the house. No flowers adorned the yard and the flag that hung was tattered to shame.
”Would you like me to come in with you, Miss Hathaway?” The depth of Clay's voice startled me.
”No, I don't think that would be a very good idea. Just wait here. I shouldn't be long.”
I walked up to the front door, steeling myself for an awkward visit with the Cooper boys' mother. I rang the bell and waited patiently. After ringing it again with no answer, I knocked loudly on the off chance the doorbell was broken.
Finally the door opened, and before me stood a young man with long black hair that fell over his eyes. He was ghostly pale and not much taller than I. My breath caught, but I kept my composure.
”Is Ms. Cooper home?”
”What do you want?”
”It's a private matter. Would you mind if I came in?”
He eyed me cautiously before finally moving away from the door, leaving it open for me to enter. I followed him in, stepping into a dark living area. Every curtain was closed. Only the persistent sun peeking through the edges of the blinds lit the room. Other than the general clutter, the house seemed new.
The young man made a half turn toward a hallway at the end of the room before stopping to stare at me.
”What did you say your name was?”
”I didn't.” Adrenaline rushed through me, giving me the courage to speak again. ”You must be Trevor.”
His eyes narrowed. ”Who are you?”
”Erica Hathaway. You know, the one whose business you're trying to destroy?” I had no proof that he had any such intention, but he was the best lead I had, and if he was involved, I probably wouldn't be getting very far with a polite line of questioning. ”But I have a feeling it's not me you're really interested in.”
”Get out.” He grimaced and walked toward me.
I stood my ground. Worst-case scenario, I was pretty confident I could hold my own. Plus, I had Clay. I held up my hand to stop him.
”Not so fast. We need to talk.”
He stopped short in front of me.
”I'll call the cops,” he said through gritted teeth.
I laughed, genuinely amused by the threat. ”Go ahead. I'm sure they'd be very interested in the contents of your computer.”
He didn't blink.
”You've been terrorizing my site for weeks and you've made no demands.”
”What site?”
I frowned at his question. ”Clozpin.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a satisfied smirk that solidified my suspicions. That little s.h.i.+t. I'd had no intention of coming face to face with the person hacking our site, but now that I was, anger rushed over me.
”What the f.u.c.k do you want?” I yelled, no longer able to control myself. I was the worst negotiator ever.
His smile disappeared, replaced by a haunted seriousness.
”Tell Landon I want my brother back.”
I stilled, uncertain where to go from here. I hadn't expected this. I thought I'd be appealing to Brian's mourning mother for information about Trevor. I hadn't thought beyond that.
”You need to make peace with what happened,” I said in a more controlled tone.
”You need to leave.”
Fine. Maybe I couldn't appeal to him on a personal level, but what he was doing was blatantly illegal.
”I can have you investigated. Everything you're doing will be exposed.” I hesitated over what I'd say next. ”You'll end up just like your brother if you don't stop this now.”