Slipping back into the car, he banged the snow brush on the chrome door frame and then closed the door. Inside, it was toasty and the defroster had melted all the ice on the windshield. He shook his head; he hadn’t planned on the pretty blonde to be a fighter. I underestimated her. I should’ve figured the lowlifes would teach their women to defend themselves. But I bet their children can’t fight me. An evil smile began to slowly spread across his face. What better way to ruin Christmas than to have your child snatched?
A streak of excitement rode up his spine. If he could pull it off, it would be the best holiday season ever, but he couldn’t rush into it. Making a mistake would be deadly, he was sure of that. He’d have to plan out all the details, though he didn’t have much time. Christmas was only two weeks away.
Humming and tapping his fingers on the dashboard, he pulled away from the curb and drove down the quiet streets.
The phone rang again and he stopped abruptly, the back tires sliding. Looking down at the phone on the floor mat, his wife’s name flashed on the screen. He pounded his fist on the dashboard. “What does that fucking cow want?” he yelled out. He knew it wasn’t him. They’d stopped caring about each other years back. Probably wants me to pick up something sweet for her at the convenience store. Well, fuck you, bitch. You can forget that.
As he drove home, his wife’s face filled his mind. How did I ever think she was right for me? The truth was, he’d never loved her; she was just there when he reached the decision to marry. They had similar backgrounds and they both liked traveling, but as the years rolled by, she’d become nothing but a nuisance in his life. She was like a gnat that just wouldn’t go away, always buzzing around.
His fucking father had always called him a coward. If the bastard were still living, he wouldn’t call him that if he knew what he was planning to do for his Christmas finale. Once he proved he could brazenly go after the Insurgents’ kids, his next project would be getting rid of his wife. He was sick of her insults and sarcasm.
It’s time to shut you up once and for all, you stupid cow.
The garage door closed and he went into the house.
Chapter Seventeen
Belle
“I still can’t believe Dale wants to be Santa at the fundraiser on Saturday. I was preparing for a huge argument, and he just said ‘yes.’ Just like that. ‘Yes.’ Amazing,” Lindi said as she placed the pens and papers into a briefcase.
“I’m so glad he’s doing it. Mitch didn’t even answer me when I asked. His eyes just bugged out, he wrinkled his nose, and then went back to his crossword puzzle,” Torey said.
Joseph rose from his chair. “I’m just happy I don’t have to do it. Tell Dale thanks from me.”
“And me,” Evan chimed in.
“I asked Banger to do it, and he said he would as long as he could wear his cut and jeans. I didn’t think he’d be a very approachable Santa Claus.” Belle laughed.
“There’s no way I was going to ask Rock. Can you imagine it?” Clotille said.
“Or Throttle,” Kimber added.
“Or Axe.” Baylee sniggered.
“Frankly, I can’t picture any of the Insurgents down with playing Santa, so it’s a good thing Dale volunteered.” Glancing at his watch, Joseph gathered his laptop and file. “We all done here?” Everyone nodded. “Then I’ll see you ladies on Saturday night.”
Belle went over to the back table and put several of the mini Italian sandwiches Cara had made on a plate. Banger just loved the sandwiches Cara made, and he’d instructed Belle before she left that morning to make sure she brought some home for him.
“Take the whole tray,” Cara said behind her.
“Hawk doesn’t want any?”
“I probably won’t see Hawk.”
Before Belle could ask Cara what she meant, she scurried away. Wrinkling her brow, Belle pinched the skin at her throat. Something’s wrong. She’d noticed that when she’d called Cara the night before, she’d seemed preoccupied and sad. When Belle had asked if anything was wrong, she’d said no, quickly making an excuse to get off the phone.
“Garret!” Cara’s voice boomed.
Belle turned to the front of the room and saw Cara rushing out the door. She walked over to see what was going on.
“Garret!”
Cara’s voice sounded hollow in the large hallway as it bounced off the concrete walls. Belle walked into the open hallway. “Who’s that?”
Cara spun around, shaking her head. “I know he heard me. He just rushed off.”
“Who?”
“That guy,” she replied, pointing at a retreating figure with stringy brown hair. “He came into my office about a week or so ago. He gave me the creeps, and now he’s here in the building.”
“Are you suggesting he’s following you?”
“No, not exactly. I don’t know. It’s just weird that he’s here.”
“Maybe he works here. Anyway, if you’re freaked about it, you need to tell Hawk.”
“Have a nice day, Belle and Cara,” Evan said as he walked past them.
“Evan, do you have an employee working for you named Garret?” Cara asked.
“I don’t think so. Lindi? Does someone named Garret work for us?” He smiled at the women. “I don’t know all the seasonal employees.”
Lindi and Torey came over, shaking their heads. “Not that I know of, but I can double-check with human services,” Lindi replied.
“Could you?” Cara asked.
“Sure. I’ll give them a call this afternoon. I have another meeting I have to go to.” Lindi grimaced, then smiled as she scampered away.
Cara walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out at the parking lot. “He’s driving away!”
Belle came over and saw a sun-faded turquoise blue van plastered with bumper stickers and duct tape leaving the parking lot.
“What kind of car is that?” Cara asked.
“It’s a van, but I have no idea what make it is,” Belle replied.
“Can you see the license plate number?”
“I can make out the last two digits—75. Kimber, can you please come over here?” Belle looked over her shoulder and saw Kimber walking toward them. “Can you hurry it up?”
“What’s up? What’re you two looking at?”
Cara tapped the window repeatedly. “That van. Do you know what make or year it is?”
Kimber nodded. “It’s a 1975 VW van. Very popular. They were made from 1952 until 1990. A fuckin’ great van. You thinking of getting one? Hawk could make it into a beauty for you.”
The vehicle disappeared, and Belle turned away from the window.
“No, it’s nothing like that. I just saw someone I thought I knew. Thanks.”
“I wanted to ask you guys something, but I don’t want to do it in the hallway. Voices travel around here,” Kimber said.
Belle and Cara went back into the conference room.
Kimber closed the door. “Is Evan married?”
“Yes. Why?” Belle asked.
“It may just be a coincidence, but some horny bitch named Christiansen has the hots for Throttle. She has an account with his business, and she keeps wanting him to come by to talk about the work they’re doing. Throttle told her he’s too damn busy and they could talk by phone, but she’s a persistent one. This damn bitch is the poster woman for bored suburban housewives.”
“I hadn’t heard that he and Britany were having any trouble. They seem to get along at the functions. Not like Torey and Mitch,” Belle said.