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Aubrey’s heels clacked away against the linoleum, and Charlie went to the second training room. Once she was done packing up the equipment, she grabbed the laundry bag.
“Good night,” Aubrey called out.
“Night!”
As Charlie stuffed dirty towels in the bag that she’d drop off at the cleaners in the morning, she thought she heard the door again.
“Aubrey?” Charlie switched off the light in the room and headed back into the main area.
No sign of her. There was no one outside on the sidewalk. The space inside was still. Yet, something tickled at her senses.
Her cell phone rang. She hurried to her office and dumped the laundry bag in front of her desk. Seeing Brian’s name on the caller ID made her smile. “Hey. I’m locking up now.”
“How does homemade wood-fired pizza sound for dinner?” Brian asked.
“Delicious.” Right on cue, her stomach grumbled. “I’m starving.”
“Excellent,” he said. “I just finished making the dough. What’s your preference for toppings?”
“I’m easy. Anything except pineapple.”
“My kind of woman.” His whiskey and velvet voice sent a tingle through her.
Her smile deepened.
“Just to give you a heads-up,” he said, “I think we should talk after dinner.” His tone was easy-breezy.
She loved the way he kept things light. “Is that a euphemism or is this going to be an actual conversation?” she asked.
“A conversation. About things. About us. But we could make it pillow talk.”
That was the best kind. “The forewarning is appreciated.” But unnecessary. When it came to Brian, she wanted to run to him. Not away from him. Not anymore. “See you soon.” She disconnected.
She grabbed her duffel bag, left the office and locked the front door.
Switching off the interior lights, she peered into the darkness out front, listening, looking. Nothing appeared amiss.
Curiosity poked at her. She opened the GPS app on her phone and stared at the map. Seth’s truck was out at the ranch. Actually, his brother’s piece of land. The first time she’d seen it there since she’d been surveilling him.
Still, something wasn’t right. She unzipped her duffel bag, dropping her cell phone inside and pulling out her .45.
Heading for the back door, she passed the bathroom. She reached for the dead bolt on the back door and froze.
It was already unlocked. Her gaze flew to the alarm keypad on the wall. The screen was blank. No green light. The security system had been disabled.
The hair on the nape of her neck rose.
Clutching the SIG in both hands now, she crept backward from the door. Not knowing what, or rather who, was waiting to ambush her on the other side in the dark parking lot.
The door swung open. She sucked in a breath.
Two men wearing black ski masks stood across the threshold.
She took aim. A creak came from behind her. Dread spilled down her spine. She turned.
A third man lunged from the bathroom, tackling her.
The gun went off. They crashed to the floor. Air whooshed from her lungs as he landed on her with sickening force. Pain sliced through her.
