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He didn’t wait. “Goddfrey,” he shouted to his first mate. “Call Fenton on his cell phone. It’s an emergency.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Fenton was waiting for Marc when the van arrived at the iron gates of his estate.
He eased aside his living-room drapes to watch the approaching headlights illuminate his lawn. This time he was worried. Very worried. He had no idea how much damaging information Marc Devereaux had come away with, but what Fenton had been briefed on was bad enough. This wasn’t going to be a harmless fishing expedition like last time. It was going to be an ugly confrontation.
He would have called his lawyer and asked him to be present. But that would make him look as guilty as he really was.
He sucked in his breath and readied himself for what was to come.
Outside, the guard posted at the property entrance complied with Fenton’s earlier instructions. He opened the iron gates and let the FI van pass through.
“Do you want me to come in with you two?” Ryan asked Marc, as he maneuvered down the labyrinth driveway.
“Nope.” Marc shook his head. “I want you to continue your research and share some trail mix with Hero. He must be starved after his long night. As for Fenton, this visit will be most effective if I just walk in and surprise him with the team psychic. That’ll freak him out.”
“It freaks everyone out, right, Claire-voyant?” Ryan teased.
Claire’s brows rose. It was the first normal comment Ryan had made to her since…well, since then. “Not everyone,” she replied. “Mostly you.”
Ryan met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Freaked out is not the term I’d use. More like intrigued and frustrated.”
Claire swallowed. “That’s an improvement over dismissive.”
“Yeah, well, people change. Although I still don’t buy the communing with inanimate objects.”
“Then how do you explain Gecko?”
“He’s very animate. He just speaks a different language than we do.”
“So do victims’ personal items.”
“Save it, you two,” Marc interrupted. “Let’s get the truth out of Fenton. And Mercer. Then you can go back to your game of one-upmanship.”
“Good idea,” Claire said. She averted her gaze and readied herself as the van approached the manor. “This should be interesting.”
“Don’t flip out if I go after the guy—I mean really go after him,” Marc cautioned her.
“You mean beat him up?” She shrugged. “If it will help us save Justin, feel free. I’m a lot tougher than the bunch of you think.”
Ryan coughed, but he said nothing. He just pulled the van around to the front of the house. “Good luck,” he told them. “Shoot some video if you kick the guy’s ass.”
“Sure,” Marc replied good-naturedly. “Claire, you have your cell, right?”
* * *
The butler ushered Claire and Marc directly to the study where Fenton sat at his desk. He did a double take when he saw Claire.
“We met at the hospital,” he remembered aloud, scrutinizing her.
“We certainly did. Claire Hedgleigh,” Claire reminded him.
“Right.” Try though he did to keep up appearances, Fenton was definitely thrown. He knew who and what Claire was.
Shuffling some papers around on his desk, he snapped off commands to his butler. “Go. And shut the door behind you. I don’t want to be disturbed—not for any reason.”
