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You don’t know, she thought as she almost laughed.It’s Gus’s now.
“Hello?” Rhobes said. “Have I lost you?”
The paperwork turning Vita-12b over to Gus had been delivered the day before by one of her guards—and even though there had been a raft of unopened mail on the carpet underneath the postal slot in the front door, Daniel had found the document out of its envelope. So Gus had clearly read it. And he would have brought his ownership position up with Rhobes as soon as he could, because it made them no longer employer/employee. They were partners.
But that conversation had evidently not occurred.
C.P. rubbed the back of her neck. Why would Rhobes kidnap the very man he had hired?
Maybe she’d heard the man wrong about the Tesla’s location.
And if Gus’s abductor had known what that paperwork was, surely the document would have been taken with them?
“When I call you,” she said, “you answer your phone.”
“I picked up this time, did I not.”
“Every time. You answer my fucking calls, Gunnar.”
The chuckle that came over the connection was almost affectionate. “So crass for a woman of your stature.”
C.P. ran her hand down the fleece. “I’m not worried about stature anymore.”
“How fortunate for you. It will make your reversal of fortune an easier adjustment.”
“You know, Rhobes, I was almost not despising you for a moment there.”
“Oh? Why was that?”
“I was enjoying how much you don’t know about things. But then you had to go and remind me who I was talking to.”
“Reality is what it is, no matter who is commenting upon it.”
“Just answer my call.”
She hung up on him as she’d wanted to, a solid crack sounding out loudly as the receiver hit the cradle. Imagining the supercilious bastard sitting in his skyscraper office in Houston and ripping a cell phone away from the side of his head made her smile a little. She hoped the ringing in his ear lasted awhile.
Turning back to the windows, she searched the forest line for the doe. The tender-footed sweetheart had not made another reappearance, and as C.P. considered what kind of predators could be lurking in the pines and maples, the bucolic acreage loomed like a threat rather than a haven for the delicate animal to seek protection in.
The cold winter was coming. Where would she find enough food?
C.P. felt the weight of her palm on her abdomen, thought of Gus St. Claire… and could no longer fight the realization that had been growing on her for the last day or two.
The reason she always found herself resting a hand there when she thought of him?
She wished the baby were his.
There. She’d said it.
Thought it.
Whatever.
She reached out for the phone before she was conscious of wanting to pick the receiver up again. Dialing a shortcut, there was only one ring before her guard answered.
“What did you find,” she barked as she put her hand back on her lower stomach. “Where is my doctor.”
FIVE
