He allowed accusation to flood his tone. "You thought crawling through a window would be easier than asking Frank and Manny to let you in the house?"
Chester stared daggers at him, but his shaking hands betrayed his bravado—until he crossed his arms over his chest. Boiling mad didn't even begin to describe his temper when he glared at Nash—whom he obviously viewed as far beneath him on the food chain. "I don't have to explain anything to thechauffeur."
He uncrossed his arms and pointed at Frank and Manny. "You two, reset the alarm. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I'll let myself out."
Without another word, he walked straight out the front door and slammed it shut.
Nash didn't feel like discussing anything with Frank and Manny. It wouldn't do any good anyway. He just shook his head and headed for the back door.
Frank grabbed his arm. "Hang on a second."
Nash gave him a look that made him regret his action. "What?"
Frank recoiled. Then narrowed his eyes. "When you walked in earlier, we saw your gun."
"Yes," said Nash. "I have a gun."
He offered no more explanation, made an about-face, and left.
Chapter 5
Lena stared out the window toward Emil's enormous vacation home bathed in security lights, wondering if she should wait four minutes—or maybe just three—before following after Nash.
His presence in the middle of her family drama had surprised her.
Maybe it shouldn't have.
She'd known Emil was shady. Of course people would be looking into him. But Nash said he worked for a private company. What if it was the type of firm her family hired? The kind that made business problems evaporate into thin air without explanation?
Not that she could prove her uncles or her parents had ever done anything illegal or paid someone else to break the law, but . . . She knew down in her bones that her family was as crooked as Emil. Or worse. She was just too chickento find the proof.
How did she know Nash could be trusted? Simple. She didn't.
That's why she'd lashed at him just before he darted out. She was being cautious . . . not paranoid . . . wasn't she?
For a moment on the beach, and again in the kitchen, she thought he might be an ally. She was sure she'd seen genuine kindness in his blue-gray eyes. The thought tugged at her conscience.
She wanted to trust him.
Unfortunately, something cold and hollow reminded her she couldn't even trust her own family. Trusting a stranger? Out of the question.
However, if he could help her find Cassidy, he was worth talking to. She shouldn't shut him down completely. She'd keep the communication lines open. And keep him at arm's length. Just in case.
She slipped her phone from her back pocket to check the time. One more minute. Then she'd leave.
Looking at her phone reminded her of a certain video she hadn't deleted yet. It hadn't helped her the way she'd hoped, but Nash might be interested in it. Whatever kind of security company he worked for, he probably hadresources—
Um, no. Definitely not. What was she thinking? Hadn't she convinced herself a few seconds ago that she shouldn't trust him? She didn't understand what was on the video, but it was probably incriminating. Which meant it was dangerous for her to have it.
She should delete it.
And she would.
Later.
She checked the time again.
"Come on, Nutmeg, let's find out what's going on."
