Page 65 of His to Claim

He was simply terrified for his life.

When I reached the door, I felt his presence behind me.

“Ms. Bridges. Please keep something in mind. Things aren’t always as they seem. Those we believe to be our enemies are often the only means of protection. There is significant danger in this town, more so than you can understand. The beasts will eventually win.”

“Win what exactly?”

Randy resumed drinking his tea, further fueling the anger building inside.

“I can feel your strength and your power, Ms. Bridges. You will find what you seek. Just be prepared for the answer. The truth will change your life.”

“I will find my father, Mr. O’Rourke. For some strange reason, I know inside I won’t be whole until I do.”

“That much I can understand and I wish you luck.” He gave me a slight smile, his eyes still searching mine.

As if he was looking through my very soul.

“One question, Ms. Bridges.”

“Okay.”

“What is your mother’s name?”

“Emilie Bridges.” I waited to see if there was a single sign of recognition. There was nothing, not even a glimmer in his eyes.

“What a lovely name.”

I could tell the man had shut down, either out of fear or consternation. I had to do this alone.

As I walked out the door, my entire system rattled, I could swear I heard an intense howl coming from the distance. Instead of being afraid, I was drawn to the sound.

He was right. I was powerful. Nothing was going to stop me from getting answers.

Nothing.

* * *

The beasts would win.

I couldn’t get the statement out of my mind. Win the world? Win against humanity? I was still reeling from the limited information Randy had provided as I pulled into the darkened parking lot of the Montenegro Corporation. This was the riskiest thing I’d done, but now at least I knew that I’d been right about searching through the company’s files. Either Chris or his father was hiding something significant.

I no longer needed my gut to tell me that.

I remained jumpy, my systems on high alert. I suddenly had the strong urge to contact Stone. The inexplicable desire to talk with him was even more uncanny than before. I thought about the city Randy had mentioned. Roselake. I certainly didn’t remember seeing the location on a map. I also had no recollection of it from when I’d lived in Denver before.

I pulled into a parking space as close to a bank of trees as possible. While the thick foliage wouldn’t hide me from either anyone looking out the building or in the parking lot, the semi-secluded area gave me some comfort. I tugged my gun from my purse, making certain the safety was on.

While I might be a crack shot, I refused to risk the safety of any innocent bystanders. I peered out my side window, staring up at the building. A few cars remained in the parking lot, several lights on in the ten-story aging brick building, but I doubted anyone was spending time researching records in the basement.

Or so I hoped.

I grabbed a flashlight, checking to make certain it worked. I had no idea what I’d find as far as light in the basement. My thoughts shifted to the exchange with Chris, the chill remaining. I’d been extremely careful to make certain I hadn’t been followed, taking several side streets that took me out of my way. No one had followed me.

As I climbed out of the car, I shoved the gun into the waistband of my jeans in the small of my back, praying to God I wouldn’t need a reason to use it. I walked along the bank of trees lining the street as I headed for the building, heading for the rear door as I jerked out my new access key card. If the promotion was nothing more than a setup, the cops would arrive within two or three minutes at my attempt to get inside.

It was a risk I was willing to take.

There were no bright flashing lights or sirens as the console moved from red to green, the soft click of the door allowing me access. I walked quickly to the door leading to the basement, repeating the move. I’d often wondered why a corporation with the kind of money that Montenegro had didn’t invest in scanning their former records. If they were hiding something, why not simply destroy the records?

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