Colton Christmas Protector (The Coltons of Texas #12)(66)
“There were many times in our association that your father asked me to conduct our business in unorthodox ways.” Hugh paused and gave Fowler a you-know-what-I-mean smirk. “Because of who he was and the power he had in the business community, because of our history together and friendship—” here he pressed a hand over his heart as if to seem more sincere “—I often made exceptions for Eldridge that weren’t typical business or legal protocol. Not illegal, mind you,” he added quickly with a stilted chuckle, “but definitely not my standard practice.”
Fowler calmly folded his hands in his lap. “Hugh, let me be honest. I think you are full of shit.”
Barrington’s face fell, and he blinked rapidly as if trying to decide if he’d heard correctly.
Fowler might have laughed if he weren’t seething inside at the lying sycophant’s betrayal. “You see, I believe you altered Eldridge’s will so that you were the main beneficiary.”
Barrington sat taller in his chair, sputtering, “I... I did not!”
“Furthermore, I know my father would not have trusted you, or any one person to keep the only copy of his will safe. He was far too savvy of a businessman and far too suspicious by nature to trust something as important as the dispersion of all his worldly goods to one copy of one document.”
“But he did!”
Fowler continued, his tone flat but deadly. “I will find the other copies of his will, his real will, and I will use them to not just contest the one you have, but to have you disbarred and prosecuted for fraud, malpractice, theft, malfeasance—whatever the hell my attorney can make stick.”
*
Penelope wished she had emergency lights on her Explorer so traffic would yield her the right-of-way. Frustration and impatience gnawed at her as she waited for a short string of cars in front of her to each wait for an opening in traffic at the most recent stop sign. She couldn’t remember having to stop so often when she’d ridden with Reid into town a few nights ago. Perhaps the GPS app was sending her the shortest route rather than the fastest. Or maybe in her haste she’d typed in the wrong address. Or maybe—
As she approached the intersection, she noticed a gold SUV headed toward the crossroad. The SUV was traveling fast. Too fast for her to safely pull out. Damn it!
The gold SUV whizzed into the intersection and skidded to a stop, blocking traffic in both directions.
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Pen groused, plowing her hands into her hair, tempted to pull out handfuls from the root. “Move!”
The SUV’s passenger door and both backseat doors opened, and two men climbed out. They were both large, with football-player builds and scowling expressions. And guns.
When she saw the weapons, her breath whooshed from her lungs. No! Not again!
“Nicholas!” she rasped as panic swelled in her chest. The two thugs marched toward her, weapons raised. She hit the button on her armrest that locked the doors, but locks were no defense against bullets. If they shot up her car, Nicholas would be unprotected.
Get out of here! Hands shaking, she jammed the Explorer into Reverse and punched the accelerator. Only to come to a crunching halt as another car slammed her from behind. Trapping her.
Get help! The impact had slung her phone from the seat onto the floor. Quickly, she fished it up and tried to dial 911. One of the men appeared at her window. The other had circled the fender to Nicholas’s side door.
The thug outside her window held his gun trained on her head. “Get out!”
She continued dialing, waiting for an emergency operator. Pleasepleaseplease!
The thug rapped the gun on her window. “Drop the phone and get out! Now!”
At the back door, thug two yanked on the handle, trying to get to her son.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
Before she could answer, a loud bang made her yelp. Her driver’s-side window shattered. Nicholas shrieked in terror. Shock and fear paralyzed her voice and brain for precious seconds. No, no, no!
The gunman reached through the broken window, manually unlocked her door and flung it open. Seizing her elbow in a painful grip, he jerked at her arm. “I said, get the hell outta the car!”
He pushed her to the back door, while another man climbed behind the steering wheel.
“No!” she screamed, fighting the hold the other man had on her. Her only thought was of helping her baby, saving him. “Nicholas! Don’t hurt him!”
The warm muzzle of her captor’s handgun touched her temple.
“Shut up and move or I’ll waste ya right here.” The dark grating tone of his voice told her he’d harbor no regret over doing just that.
He shoved her into her backseat next to Nicholas, then followed her in, while a third man piled in the front passenger seat. Her only chance of saving her son was to do as the man said and pray she stayed alive long enough to rescue Nicholas. Her kidnapper wrenched her phone from her grip and disconnected her link to 911. Dropping her phone on the floor, he crushed the screen with his heel.
She was slung against the man to her left as the driver took a turn at top speed. The man in the front seat pulled out his own cell phone and pushed one button before putting the phone to his ear.
“Yeah,” he grunted, “we got her and the kid. No. He wasn’t with ’em.”
He, no doubt, meant Reid. Her heart twisted, both glad he wasn’t going to die like she figured she would, and also wishing fervently he were with her now. She’d feel a hell of a lot more optimistic about her predicament if Reid were here.