Close To Danger (Westen #4)(38)

“And who is Nathan Tremont?”

“He’s the owner of the Tremont Athletic Goods stores. There are several in the Cincinnati, Dayton and northern Kentucky area.”

“What did he do?”

“Ran a stop sign while talking on his cell phone and t-boned my client’s car.”

“Did he do time?”

She shook her head. “Just a fine and points on his driving record.”

“So why would he be after you?”

It was her turn to give a casual shrug. “Tremont and his insurance company wanted to settle out of court for a pittance of the amount he’d cost my client, Mr. Algeron. He came to me for advice and we sued him in civil court for damages and reimbursement of medical bills. I made sure he felt the pain in his wallet that matched the pain Mr. Algeron did when his car was hit.”

Wes made a face and started typing.

“What?” she asked, feeling like she’d been caught cheating on a test or something.

“Nothing. You just go for the jugular, don’t you?”

“One of the things I always remembered my father saying when I was little was, the best defense is a good offense.”

“A football guy, huh?”

“Bengals all the way.”

Wes studied her with those intense blue eyes of his again. “Amazing how something our parents say can influence us years later. This time your dad’s advice may have triggered Tremont’s need for revenge.”





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


“Are you…saying…it’s my fault…someone…is…stalking…me?”

The tension in Chloe’s voice and the deliberate way she enunciated each word warned Wes she’d reached her limit of patience. The fact that it took her nearly twenty-four hours, a change of surroundings and a mild, if lengthy, interrogation surprised him more than her sudden ire.

W?den had taken notice, too. The half-wolf lifted his head to study her, this time not trying to sooth her with a nuzzle. Smart dog.

“No. What I’m saying is being you— determined, strong, as well as beautiful—has struck a chord in someone. Could be revenge, like in the case of Tremont or Whitehead. Could be intimidation factor like the Hinkley Global group or even your boss. People we can trace down and deal with on a logical or legal level. That’s the good news.” He paused, letting the words sink into her mind.

“And the bad?” she asked after a moment, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She wasn’t going to like hearing this, but she needed to.

“If it isn’t one of those men for specific reasons, then, we’re dealing with someone who may have other issues.”

“Other issues?” Her dark brown eyes focused on him and he already knew she understood him, but wanted him to be the one to say it out loud.

“Then we may be looking at someone who has mental problems.”

“Such as?”

“Delusional fantasies at best.”

“And at worst?”

“We could be dealing with a psychotic bent on hurting you.”

She bolted out of her chair.

“Great! Just great.” She stalked across the room, her long legs taking up the limited space to the cabin’s front door in four quick strides. On one heel, she pivoted and strode back across the room. “I can’t believe it. One scenario, just being me and doing my job might, just might, have triggered some male with an oversized ego to think he has the right to punish me or try to intimidate me because I’m a woman.

“And if it wasn’t something I did and this isn’t about someone with an over-inflated sense of entitlement, then some mysterious crazy person has fixated on me and we have no way of knowing who they are or when they’ll attack.”

“It isn’t necessarily a stranger,” Wes said, making her pause and look at him with one raised brow. “It could be someone in your circle of acquaintances who has developed an obsession with you. Someone you come in contact on a daily basis.”

That sent her on another trek across the room. “Great! Now I have to wonder about the guy at the coffee shop or maybe one of the guys at the deli around the corner where I get my Reuben sandwich every Wednesday, which by the way I’m really missing today.”

When she pivoted this time, she slammed right into Wes, who was holding her hiking boots.

“What?” She looked down at the boots, then back at him, her eyes snapping with the fire raging inside her.

“Put them on, we’re going outside.”

She glanced out the window at the snow-white wonderland on the porch, the ground beneath the trees and hanging off the stark-black limbs of the trees and bushes beyond. Swinging her gaze back to him, her brows lifted in puzzlement. “Are you crazy? There’s at least a foot of snow out there.”

“More like two. I need to be sure the SUV still starts and the path behind it is clear in case of an emergency.”

Chloe took a step back, her hands raised. “I’m not shoveling snow.”

“Sure you are,” he said, thrusting her boots into her hands. “You need to work off some of this steam. You can do that outside shoveling snow.”

She slipped on her boots and started lacing them up tight, tucking her jeans down inside. “Okay, on one condition,”