No Mercy (12 page)
her, she never messed with the safe and didn’t think to look to see if it was unlocked.”
“Ten thousand. That’s some stash for an accountant to leave behind.” Dylan looked from the
safe to Trace. “What did the note say?”
“Lo siento.”
Trace shook his head. “That’s it.”
“Who is he saying ‘I’m sorry’ to?” Dylan stared at the safe again before answering his own
question. “Likely to his wife.”
“Probably.” Trace looked around them. “Ten grand and a house. Guess he figured that was
enough to take care of Mrs. Salcido.”
Trace and Dylan walked out of the office and to the living room as Dylan added, “If he
intentionally left on his own and wasn’t forced.”
“That’s the mil ion dol ar question.” Trace reached the front door and looked out, Dylan following.
Through the front windshield of the truck, Belle could be seen staring at her e-reader.
Trace nodded toward the truck. “You brought company.”
Dylan started down the porch stairs while Trace remained on the top step. “If you’ve got
everything under control, I have someplace to be.”
“I can handle it.” Trace made a gesture with his hand. “Take care of what you need to.”
Dylan turned back to the truck and headed across the street. Belle glanced up as he opened
the truck door, climbed in, and shut it behind him.
He looked at her. “Good book?”
“It’s twisted but compel ing.” She shrugged. “And it’s better than facing what’s going on now. I
don’t like our real life mystery.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Dylan threw the truck into gear.
She tilted her head to the side. “Did you find anything that could help shed light on Nate’s death?”
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“I hope so, too.” She turned to glance out the window, clearly lost in her thoughts.
The drive to where Leon lived outside of Sierra Vista was a good half hour from Bisbee. Belle
continued to stare out the window as he drove, as if hoping Dylan wouldn’t want to talk. He did want
to ask her more questions about the past, but he figured he’d stick with the present.
He steered the truck down the empty highway. No one ahead and no one following. “Christie
mentioned you’ve been in the restaurant business for some time.”
Belle turned her gaze from the window and looked at him. “I started from the bottom up. I began
as a dishwasher and moved on to bussing tables, then hostessing, waitressing, and on from there.
Over the years, I transitioned my way to restaurant manager.”
He felt a knot in his chest when he thought about her having to wash dishes just to survive after
running away. “You manage a restaurant now?”
“I did.” She let out a long sigh. She explained the circumstances leading up to walking out on
her job.
“What kind of ass—” Dylan let out his breath, “—
idiot
would refuse to let an employee leave for
the death of a friend?”
“Now I have job hunting in my future when I return to Houston.” She looked tense as she shifted
in her seat. “But I’l be fine.” He wasn’t sure if she added the last words to reassure herself or him.
He didn’t like the way it made him feel to think about her leaving and returning to Houston. A
very big part of him wanted to claim her and tell her he was never letting her out of his sight again.
He’d loved her with everything he had then, and now his heart wanted her back.
What the hell was he thinking? She left once. What was to stop her from running again?
But that had been because of her stepfather. She was an adult now and the bastard couldn’t
hurt her.
Dylan ground his teeth. It was taking every ounce of restraint he had not to drive straight to
Harvey Driscoll’s home and beat the shit out of the sonofabitch. Dylan had always had a temper and
it was only hard won control that kept him from acting on it.
It took effort, but Dylan turned his thoughts to the present and the fact that they’d arrived.
Leon Petroski’s business was located on a property near his house, which was one of the nicer
homes in the area. Dylan pulled his truck up to a huge workshop where Leon was talking with a
couple of men. They wore shirts with logos on the back that read
Leon’s Pump and Well Service
.
Leon said something to the men who nodded, and walked to a truck bearing the same logo on
the doors as they had on their shirts. The men were driving away by the time Dylan and Belle parked
in front of Leon and his shop. The place was filled with heavy equipment, drilling and pump supplies.
After Dylan helped Belle out of the truck, she hugged Leon and Dylan clapped his hand on his
friend’s shoulder.
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sandy blond hair. “It’s been crazy around here, and getting back to Bisbee over the next couple of
days to give you the postcard would be difficult.”
“Not a problem,” Dylan said.
“G.I. Joe is up at the house.” Leon nodded in the direction of his home. “He seems to be settling
in well.”
Dylan nodded. “I appreciate you taking him in.” He looked over the shop and at the office building
attached to the much larger workshop. “Some setup you have here.”
“We keep busy.” Leon nodded in the direction of the office building. “I’l introduce you to my wife
and get you that card.”
“Does your wife work with you?” Belle walked on the opposite side of Leon from Dylan.
Leon shook his head. “Jane owns a clothing boutique in Sierra Vista. She took the afternoon
off.”
He led them into the attached office building and wiped his work boots on a mat before stepping
inside.
A tall woman with short spiky hair glanced up from a paper she had been poring over as she sat
behind a desk. She looked from Dylan to Belle and smiled as she stood.
Leon made introductions. Jane had a firm grip as she greeted both Belle and Dylan. “Leon has
mentioned your Circle a few times over the years.” Jane glanced at the postcard on the desk before
picking it up. “I understand this was from one of your group.”
Dylan reached out and took the card from her. On the front of the postcard was a picture of
Bisbee’s Brewery Gulch. His gaze slid over the words as Belle peeked over his shoulder.
Leon,
Hear you’ve got quite an operation going over in Sierra Vista and that you have a beautiful
wife, a daughter, and two sons who keep you busy. I’m happy life is treating you well.
I’ll never forget that Hail Mary pass you caught to win the game over Douglas. You were
one hell of a receiver.
Take care of you and yours,
Nate
Dylan frowned. “
You
were the quarterback and you
threw
that Hail Mary pass to win the game.”
“Exactly.” Leon braced one hand on a file cabinet. “That’s some mistake.”
“Leon said you all received a postcard and each one is odd.” Jane tilted her head to the side.
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Dylan shook his head. “Not sure.”
Jane gestured to the postcard. “We’ve made a copy, so you can take the original.”
“Thank you.” Dylan tucked the postcard into his shirt pocket with the two others.
Jane turned to Belle. “Leon mentioned you left while stil in high school.” Jane seemed to be the
type who said whatever was on her mind.
Belle shifted her stance and looked uncomfortable with Jane’s forward statement. “That’s true,”
Belle said quietly.
Leon came to Belle’s rescue. “Anyone like a beer or a soda? We can head on over to the house.”
“I’m on the job, so no beer for me.” Dylan figured they should probably spend a few moments
with Leon and his wife.
Belle nodded her agreement. “Soda is fine for me.”
They drove to the house and then spent the next hour talking with Leon about his business and
his kids. His wife was pleasant but continued to be very direct, and her questions often seemed to
throw Belle off balance.
Belle also got to meet Joe, and she spent some time caressing and talking to him. The German
shepherd was friendly to everyone there, but to Dylan he seemed to be a little less enthusiastic than
he usually was. No doubt the dog missed Nate.
When Dylan thought he and Belle had stayed long enough, he thanked the Petroskis for their
hospitality and Belle echoed his thank you. Dylan handed Leon his business card, which included
his personal cell number. Dylan patted Joe one last time before following Leon to the front door.
“You don’t think Nate was just messing with you all?” Jane said as Leon reached for the
doorknob. “It might have been his way of saying ‘Let’s talk.’”
“Could be.” Dylan gave a slow nod. “One way or another, we’l figure this out. You can count on
it.”
***
***
Afternoon sunlight faded as they drove from Leon’s home to Bisbee. It had been a long day, but
Belle found herself not wanting it to end. She knew she shouldn’t stay close to Dylan, not with the
secret she stil kept, but she couldn’t tear herself away from him. The energy between them was
electric, but familiar and comfortable.
She watched him as he drove, studying his strong features and the dark stubble on his jaw that
hadn’t been there when he was a teenager. He’d been a clean-cut country boy, not nearly as rough
and toughened as he looked now. She wondered what he’d been through all these years, what had
given him the hardness she sensed in him. It almost surprised her that he was gentle with her the
few times they’d been around each other. And that kiss…it had been so sensual, almost as if he’d
been communicating something through it. Yet he didn’t appear like a man who was gentle for
anyone.
She knew she had to tell him the truth, the whole truth, but she was afraid of what he might do
when he found out her stepfather was partially responsible for Dylan’s father’s murder. He’d also be
angry she hadn’t told him sooner. Should she wait for the right time? Would there ever be a right
time?
“Tom is working until eight tonight.” Dylan shoved his phone into its holster as he glanced from
the road to Belle. “He’l be home by eight-thirty and he’s going to text me his address when he’s
there.”
She reached into her purse and glanced at the time on her phone. “That’s another three hours
from now.”
Dylan met her gaze. “Tired?”
“A little.” Her stomach growled. “But mostly hungry.”
He glanced back to the road. “Do you want to go out to eat?”
She sighed. “I don’t feel like going to a restaurant. Maybe I should order room service at the
hotel.”
“Let’s get takeout.” He pul ed his phone out of its holster again. “I know the perfect place we can
go to enjoy it.”
Her belly flipped at the way he looked at her and she thought about their moment alone in the
hotel room. She almost suggested they go back there but managed to bite back the words.
He called a small dive they used to go to in Old Bisbee and placed an order for two of the place’s
popular enormous hamburgers. Her mouth watered at the memory of them. They had always been
the best she’d ever remembered tasting. And the place had made the most amazing milkshakes.
After he placed the phone order, she asked. “So where are we going?”
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have to ask?”
With that comment, she knew exactly where he was taking her. “I guess not.” More flips in her
bel y. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
He glanced at her. “You can’t beat the view.”
“I can’t argue with that.” She did want to argue that it was the last place on earth that she wanted
to go. But that wasn’t true, so she didn’t say anything more.
He stopped at the Arctic Circle, which Dylan told her had been open and closed numerous times
over the years. New owners had remodeled and painted it, and just being at the place reminded her
of long ago times. Mostly good times, and that’s what she held onto.
Dylan paid for their order and then they were headed up Tombstone Canyon, and sure enough,
rather than going through the tunnel, he took a detour and went up the Old Divide Road, on top of
Mule Pass Tunnel. He didn’t stop there, a place where teenagers had always stopped to party. He