Page 18 of The Savior

CHAPTER SIX

The conversation died, and Chelsea couldn’t read Liam’s expression. His attitude had swung from caveman-like to understandably quiet. He’d wrapped his hands around his coffee mug and stared in a way that she thought it best to leave him with his thoughts. Then the doorbell rang.

“Liam,” Frank called from the living room, “you have a visitor.”

Liam arched his eyebrows. “Wonder who.”

Her nerves tingled, and they both had to be thinking about the package he received the day before. Liam pushed out of the chair and left the kitchen.

Nosey, she couldn’t sit still and carefully padded to the edge of the kitchen but couldn’t hear anything.

She bit her lip, wondering about the authenticity of the report and pictures. She didn’t know why they’d be fake but didn’t have an answer to why Liam had received them anonymously.

Frank walked into the kitchen, eyeing her as he eased by, and her cheeks flushed. She wasn’t spying, per se, but more questions compiled with each word of the hushed conversation she couldn’t hear, and maybe, if she heard Liam’s conversation, everything would make sense.

“You won’t be able to hear unless you scoot closer,” Frank pointed out as he refilled his coffee mug.

“I’m not trying to listen.” Except, obviously she was, and Chelsea edged around the corner, still unable to see whom Liam was speaking with. They stood on the front porch, and the glass storm door showed their backs. Then Liam turned.

Chelsea jumped back. As fast as he’d gone outside, he strode back in, but he diverted upstairs instead of the kitchen.

She inched into the living room. The large man on the front porch faced away from the house. His shoulders reminded her of Liam’s. Both were broad and tall, but the man outside had darker hair, and without seeing his face, she sensed he was older.

A minute later, Liam hustled down the stairs. He wore his dress pants from the day before and the button-down shirt, haphazardly tucked and unbuttoned at the collar. When he turned to look over his shoulder, he had more color in his face than Chelsea could recall seeing in quite some time. “Tell Linda thanks for breakfast, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

The glass storm door slapped shut as he rushed out.

“Yeah, sure.”

She walked to the front porch in time to see both men, equal in height and bulk when side-by-side, beeline for a large black SUV with tinted windows. A third man stepped out of the back. He had dark hair like the man who had come to the door, and while he was not as muscular as Liam or the man by his side, Chelsea could tell he wasn’t a lightweight.

Linda stepped to Chelsea’s side, surprising her.

“Who was that?”

Shaking her head, Chelsea said, “I don’t know.”

They watched as Liam disappeared into the back of the SUV. The man who had knocked closed the back door then moved to the driver’s side.

“Huh,” Linda said.

The SUV’s engine roared when it turned over, then the vehicle raced away. Chelsea watched until it turned.

“I hope everything is okay,” Linda said, sounding as uncertain as Chelsea felt.

Between the vehicle and the manila envelope, Chelsea was confident everything wasnotokay, but she didn’t know why.

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