Drawing an anguished breath, he glanced around the empty apartment, which grew dimmer by the moment. Joe would be back soon. What in the world would Grant tell him? Eyeing the bottle and glasses, he swiftly gathered them up. Joe had never approved of liquor in the house.
Dumping the tequila from his glass into the sink, Grant turned to the refrigerator to hide the bottle in the cabinet above it. Once he stood on his tiptoes and placed the tequila bottle in the far recesses of the cabinet, he glanced at the fridge. Something seemed a little off.
Suddenly Grant gasped. Sophie’s note! It was missing. His stomach flipped with fear as he realized only one person could have taken it. Grabbing his jacket, Grant rushed out of the apartment.
35. Scar Tissue
Wow, I love what you’ve done with this!” Sophie exclaimed. She looked from Kirsten’s computer screen to her roommate, who bit her lip nervously as she sat on her bed. Sophie had just finished reading the last ten pages of Kirsten’s dissertation.
“You do?” Kirsten asked.
“You pulled it all together wonderfully in the discussion section,” Sophie said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “This study definitely makes a contribution to the counseling literature. You could totally publish this!”
“No shit?”
Sophie began giggling immediately, remembering their conversation about the occupation of Kirsten’s last date. Kirsten snorted with laughter once again.
“Yeah, you just have to edit out about fifty pages before you submit the manuscript to a journal,” Sophie advised.
“Arghhh!” Kirsten collapsed on her bed. “I’m so sick of this damn dissertation! I can’t look at it anymore!”
“Oh, I know the feeling. I wanted to burn the stupid thing when I was done with mine.”
Kirsten abruptly lifted her head, resting on her elbow. She listened intently to something, then quietly asked, “Did you lock the door after you came in?”
“Um …” Sophie tilted her head, trying to remember. “I don’t know. I, uh, had a lot of bags.”
Alarm crossed Kirsten’s face, causing the hairs on the back of Sophie’s neck to bristle. “I just heard something,” she whispered. “I think someone is in the apartment.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “I—I—I’ll go look,” she offered, feeling responsible.
“No—I’ll join you,” Kirsten insisted, grabbing hold of Sophie’s elbow as they inched toward the living room.
When they were almost to the door, Sophie realized how preposterous this was. It was probably nothing. “We’re being ridiculous,” she whispered, giggling.
They emerged to the empty living room, and after looking around, Kirsten breathed a sigh of relief.
Sophie scoffed, “You see? Ridiculous.”
She gave her roommate a reassuring smile, but from the corner of her eye, she caught movement. Sophie’s smile froze as she watched a black-haired man spring from behind the futon, uncoiling his body and aiming a gun at both women.
Kirsten screamed.
“Shut up!” Carlo snarled. He squeezed the weapon tighter. “You scream again, and I’m putting a bullet in you.”
Gesturing with his gun, Carlo ordered, “Both of you, take a seat, now.”
They slowly sidestepped over to the sofa, neither taking her eyes off the gleaming weapon. Sophie was mesmerized by the circular black muzzle of the handgun. Her shaky legs folded under her as she and Kirsten crumpled onto the sofa. Deescalate, she thought. How could she calm this menacing stranger?
“W-w-what do you want from us?” Sophie asked, trying to steady her rapid heartbeat. “You can have whatever you want—my purse is over there on the table.”
Carlo smirked. “Unless your purse has one hundred grand in it, Sophie, I’m not interested.”
Her eyes widened. This creep knew her name? And the amount of money he specified—that was what Logan had left in her office. She felt sick to realize her past was still haunting her. “You’re Logan’s friend?” she asked.
His coal-black eyes smoldered. “Logan is no friend of mine. Or should I say, he was no friend of mine.” Relaxing his hold on the weapon slightly, he grinned triumphantly. “But I’m glad you know why I’m here. You must have known there’d be consequences for letting the cops steal our cash, didn’t you?”
I know all about consequences, Sophie thought. Going to prison, losing my career, my dignity, my mother … Apparently there were even more consequences coming her way. “You want the money back,” she said numbly. She would never stop paying for her mistake.
“Very perceptive,” Carlo grinned, lowering his gun an inch yet again. Two pretty women, trembling, giving him their complete attention, riveted on his every word, seeming to appreciate his handsomeness—he was enjoying this immensely. “I know who your father is, Sophie.”
The syrupy sweet way he said her name made her shudder. His snake-like intonation was worlds away from Grant’s tender pronunciation—caressing the “s” softly with his smooth, velvety voice.
“Therefore, I know you can get that money,” Carlo continued.
“I—I—I didn’t know it was your money,” Sophie explained. “Please, please leave my father out of this. He’s paid enough for my mistakes.”
Carlo paused, and he stared at her curiously.
Hearing her roommate’s pleading tone, Kirsten’s fear morphed into anger. Who the hell was this stranger to come into her home and intimidate them?
“Listen, whoever you are,” Kirsten began, her voice growing stronger with each word. “We don’t have your money. I suggest you get out of my apartment right now before I call the cops.”
Carlo looked amused. This bitch thought she could threaten him? He took a step closer, shifting the weapon from Sophie to Kirsten. “You think you can get a call off to the cops before you bleed out?” he inquired. “Let’s give it a test. I’d probably only hit my target, say, three or four times before you reached a phone.”
Sophie was horrified. Kirsten clearly didn’t know who they were dealing with. “She didn’t mean it!” Sophie yelled frantically. “We won’t involve the police, okay?”
“Oh, I know you won’t,” Carlo said, pointing the gun back at Sophie. “Because if you breathe one word to the cops about my friendly visit today, then Grant is dead.”
Sophie gasped. He knew Grant too? Of course he did—they were all part of the family, weren’t they? She studied the stranger more closely and recognized him from Logan’s funeral. How were they all related?
“How do you know Logan and Grant?” she asked.
“That’s none of your concern, bitch,” Carlo growled. “All you need to worry about is getting one hundred Gs to me ASAP. I’ll return in two days, and you better have that money for me, if you want to live.”
“You promised!” The livid voice made all three of them jump, and Carlo spun around to find Grant in the hallway of the apartment. Sophie had never seen her McSailor so furious. “You promised you’d leave Sophie alone if I agreed to your plan!”
Sophie stared at Grant. What had he agreed to?