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y had been paying closer attention than I’d given him credit for. “We need to be quick, and I need to try to stay undetected by Gabe’s surveillance.”
Gabe had surveillance on Clive, Clive had surveillance on me, and I had additional surveillance looking for Clive’s surveillance. Good thing I was a fucking genius. This was getting complicated.
“Ms. Taylor,” Timmy said. “I don’t want you to do something that’s going to get you hurt. Mr. Betts told me specifically to keep you out of harm’s way.”
“Well, you should do what he says—keep me safe, which, in this instance, means that if you see Clive Warren about to jump me, jump him first.”
Timmy turned his beefy neck back around, looked toward the road, and said nothing further. We turned onto North First. Office buildings flew by in the bright sunlight, and I held my breath, waiting for the one I was looking for. I looked at the clock. My timing was perfect. Clive was about to show up for his meeting with his accountant—probably to discuss all the money he was getting from Jiàn Innovations, right before he disappeared to another country, never to be heard from again.
But he needed to hear from me first.
“This is it. Pull over.” I swallowed nervously. “Timmy, are you ready? We have to move fast.”
He nodded, although I thought I heard him sigh. I ignored it. My driver pulled over, and as soon as he stopped, I barreled out of the car with Timmy on my heels. We hustled into the lobby of the large accounting firm, earning a few looks from people in the busy lobby. I didn’t care about that. What I did care about was getting in there before Clive saw me, and before Gabe’s men who were following him caught a glimpse of me.
If I was afraid of Clive, I was petrified of what Gabe would do if he knew I was there.
I sat on one of the benches, away from the windows, as Timmy waited nearby. If he disapproved, he showed no signs.
I crossed my legs and bounced my knee nervously, watching the large clock in the lobby. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Clive came through the door. He looked exhausted, his pale skin contrasting with the dark circles lining his eyes underneath his prim tortoiseshell glasses. He had a new beard that looked patchy and scruffy, out of line with his normally slick appearance. He spoke to the receptionist at the desk, and I stood up, ready to follow him. Timmy was watching him too.
He stood in the crowd, looking down at his smartphone, ignoring the world around him. As he headed toward the bank of elevators on the far wall, we followed him. When a set of doors opened, he shuffled in, still engrossed in his phone. Clive didn’t even look up. He was scrolling through messages, oblivious to the people tightly packed around him in the elevator. I stood two feet away from him, and he hadn’t even noticed me.
I ached to teach him a lesson. I was the equivalent of a zombie apocalypse waiting in the elevator right next to him, and he was so obsessed with his phone that he wasn’t even concerned about it.
I got my chance sooner than I’d hoped. The elevator stopped at the third floor, and a lone woman stepped out. I nudged Timmy. He grabbed Clive by the shoulder and unceremoniously pulled him out of the elevator. “Huh?” Clive yelped.
I followed them, turning and smiling at the other passengers in the elevator before the doors closed. I jerked my thumb in the direction of Timmy and Clive. “We’re serving a writ of attachment. He’s a deadbeat dad. Hasn’t paid child support in over six months. Mom and the three kids are about to get evicted.” I had no idea where any of that came from, but I just went with it.
“What a pig,” one of the women said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
“I hope you throw him in jail,” said another.
Then, the door closed. If only it were that easy. I would do just that.
The lone woman who’d gotten out ahead of us had disappeared. Over the pounding of my own heartbeat in my ears, I saw the hallway was empty and quiet. Timmy had hold of a struggling Clive, with his hand over Clive’s mouth. I saw a single-unit family bathroom to our right, and I motioned for Timmy to follow me. They came in, and I quickly locked the door behind us.
Timmy let go of Clive’s mouth, and he started to scream—so Timmy punched him in the face, then took out his gun and pushed it squarely against Clive’s ribs.
“Keep your mouth shut,” Timmy said.
I hadn’t told Timmy I was wearing a wire. He was probably going to hear it from Eddie when we got back for using his gun.
If we got back.
Clive rubbed his face where Timmy had hit him and adjusted his glasses. Then, he just stood there, waiting.
“I need you to wait outside,” I told Timmy. He raised his eyebrows and didn’t budge. “Just do it. But wait—pat him down first.”
He followed my orders, confiscating Clive’s cell phone. Otherwise, Clive was clean. Timmy headed to the door, leveling a glare at Clive.
“I’ll be right outside,” he told our captive. Then he turned to me, his face neutral.
I looked at him pleadingly. “I’ll just be one minute. I swear.”
He left, and I turned to Clive, who was looking less worried than he should.
“Did you rethink my offer?” he asked. “Because you could have just called, although I appreciate you reaching out in person.”
