Amanda's Wolves(8)

They were grown men. Logan knew they were born the same year and were both twenty-eight years old. Too old for this shit.

Logan’s head was spinning. He couldn’t think what else to say, so instead he righted himself and walked away. Without looking back, he climbed into his truck through the open door, shut it with far less force than he wanted to, and drove away.

His hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

It was done now. There was no denying the obvious and no going back.

The only remaining question was who was the woman? And where the hell was she?

»»•««

Roger Barkley tapped his pencil on his desk, listening impatiently to the man who stood before him, his hat in his hands.

Mike droned on. “I think you need to consider wrapping this up. I have a bad feeling about it.”

“A bad feeling.” Roger leaned back in his chair and glared at his consultant. “That’s ridiculous. No one ever comes up here. It’s a mile from the main road and a pain in the ass. They won’t bother. Let’s give it another few weeks.”

Mike pursed his lips and nodded before continuing. “I’m telling you the natives are growing restless.”

Roger chuckled at his man’s play on words. “How so?”

“I was having a beer in Sojourn last night, and I overheard two men talking about this operation.”

“What’d they say?” Roger sat up, but remained outwardly calm.

“They’re pissed. Said they’ve heard your machinery up here and grumbled about how much longer you would be. Apparently you’re chasing the wildlife down onto their properties with your noise. They said they’d been told you would be out of here by now.”

“So?”

“So, what if they complain to the wrong person? It’s only a matter of time before the local safety manager shows up. I can only do so much to protect you.”

“Not gonna happen. Trust me. We’re fine. I want to clear the land down to the creek bed, and then we’ll back out.”

“That’s a lot of land, Roger.”

Roger rolled his eyes. “I’m well aware how much it is. The sooner we clear, the quicker we move on. None of the hired men are complaining.”

“Of course not. Why would they? Every day extra they work is one more day they get paid. They’ll never utter a word about whether or not you’re clearing more land than you’ve been allotted. And their asses won’t be on the line if you get caught. You’re getting greedy, Roger.”

Roger leaned forward and pointed a finger at Mike. “And I’m paying you a hefty sum to ensure we continue to reap the reward.”

Mike set his palms on the desk and leaned in to get closer to Roger’s face. “And my job is to tell you when enough is enough. It’s one thing to cut corners and skim more trees than the government has permitted, but if you push too far for too long, you’ll find yourself enjoying that hard-earned money from behind bars.”

Roger chuckled sardonically. “If I do, I’ll be sharing that cell with you.”

Mike scowled and shoved off the desk. “Have you seen anything suspicious?”

“No. And your paranoia is getting annoying.” He glanced back down at the papers on his desk. “See you tomorrow, Mike.”

Mike hesitated a moment, but Roger intentionally didn’t lift his gaze again. Instead he feigned interest in a particular piece of paper until Mike left the trailer, the door shutting a bit too loudly.

Roger blew out a long breath and leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t concerned in the least about the damn safety manager. He could always claim innocence if he needed and state he thought the space he was allotted had been larger.

What he was worried about was something else entirely. His gut told him shit was about to hit the fan, and he had every intention of stopping it before it began.





Chapter Four


“Amanda Williams?” The kind woman with fiery red curls that framed her face smiled as she leaned out of the office directly across from the stiff institutional beige couch Amanda perched on. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Dr. Burnhart. Come on in.”

Amanda stood, smoothed her professional-looking navy skirt, and followed the woman into her office. She had high hopes about this interview at Cambridge Junior College.

“Please, take a seat.” She indicated a chair opposite her desk with an open palm.

“Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Burnhart.”

“Oh, gosh. Thank you. And please, call me Lucy. I’ve never felt comfortable with the formality.” She smiled. “I’ve looked over your resume, and I have to say I’m impressed. What are the chances you would move to the area with exactly the credentials we’re looking for to fill this position?”