Sweet Surrender(59)
The hair on his neck stood up. Not sparing an ounce of guilt for opening her mail, he eased a letter opener into the corner and sliced the top. He didn’t want to disturb the seal in case DNA could be taken.
He was careful to only handle the corners of the paper as he opened it. His gaze darted over the nearly illegible handwriting, and as he took it in, red-hot rage billowed over him.
Give us the money, bitch. Your old man has a lot of it from what I hear, and I bet he’d be willing to part with quite a bit of it to keep his pretty daughter from being hurt. We can do it the easy way or we can do it the hard way. Either way, we’ll end up with the money. Your choice.
Gray stuffed the paper back into the envelope then folded it and shoved it into his pocket. Goddamn bastard had just threatened Faith. He had to get to her apartment right away. Make sure she was okay and then make sure she wasn’t left alone. There was no time like the present to have their come to Jesus moment.
Faith leaned back in the leather seat and lazily watched the scenery fly by in a blur. It was a beautiful morning. Already hot, but the sun was shining, and the farther they got out of Houston, the bluer the sky got.
They drove through Galveston and headed west. The traffic and number of houses lessened as they got farther down the island. Finally, they pulled into the drive of a large beach house, the only house for at least a mile stretch of the coastline.
She stepped out and breathed in the salty air. It was perfect. She’d have complete privacy. No one to bug her or intrude. It was heaven.
The driver, who had identified himself as Sam, carried her suitcase up the two flights of stairs to the front door and unlocked it for her.
He set the luggage inside the door then dug in his pocket for a card. “Here’s my number. If you need anything, just give me a call.”
She took it from his hand and smiled. “Thank you, Sam. I really appreciate this.”
He nodded and headed down the stairs back to the Bentley, leaving her alone in the spacious house.
She walked through the living room to the back deck and stepped out of the sliding glass doors. The breeze caught her hair and flipped it around her head.
The gentle sounds of the waves rolling in soothed fraught nerves. She raised her shoulders then relaxed them with a great big sigh.
A lawn chair beckoned, and she couldn’t resist sinking down onto it. She propped her feet up and gazed out over the stained waters of the gulf.
Remembering she needed to call Pop and give him a better explanation than that she just wasn’t coming in, she dug around in her pocket for her cell phone and hoped she got service this far out of Galveston.
“Why are you calling on the cell?” Pop asked when he answered.
She smiled. “Because I’m not at home.”
“Everything okay? I assumed you were sick. You don’t sound sick, but you don’t sound okay either.”
“I’m fine,” she managed in a wavery voice. “I just need…I need a vacation, Pop. I hope you don’t mind me taking a few days. I know I should have planned ahead but—”
He cut her off before she could delve further into her explanation. “You don’t need to justify a vacation to me, girl,” he said gruffly. “You deserve one, and you should take it. I don’t want to see you in here for a week at least.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, though she’d already committed to doing just that.
“We’ll manage just fine around here. Coffee won’t be worth a damn, but we’ll get by.”
She laughed. “Thanks, Pop. You’re the best.”
“You just take care. You haven’t been yourself lately.”
“I love you,” she said softly.
“Love you too, girl.”
Gray left the office and tore out of the parking lot like he was heading to a fire. He needed to call Mick and tell him things had escalated and that Samuels was most assuredly in Houston or close, but first, he had to make sure Faith was okay and square things with her.
He saw her car still in the parking lot and wheeled in beside it. He rushed to her door and knocked loudly. When he got no response, he knocked again. “Faith, it’s Gray. Open the door. It’s important.”
Again he waited but got no response. Dread tightened his chest. Her car was here. Why wasn’t she answering the door?
He knocked one more time in case she was in the shower and waited several long seconds. Then he did what any other cop would do in the situation. He kicked the door in.
It flew open and hit the opposing wall with a bang. He rushed in, wishing like hell he’d brought his gun. Her apartment was dark. Not a single light was on. The only sound he could hear was the humming of the refrigerator.