Page 7 of Controlled Chaos

I turned and walked back into the room, letting her follow me while I continued to pull clothes from the closet.

“My name is Dakota,” she said.

“I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time. I’m sure whatever the project Porter tried to recruit me for is probably dangerous. Taking bad guys off the street always is, but I’m afraid I can’t help him.”

Dakota crossed the room and slid the curtain back to peek into the parking lot below before she let it fall back into place. She turned and let her gaze run over everything in the room, including me.

“George told me why you can’t help him. You think Porter will be responsible for your death.”

“Boy, your husband really does tell you everything.”

Her lips twitched into a smile, and her gaze twinkled. “What if I were to tell you that you’re wrong?”

Not hardly, lady. The rebuttal was on the tip of my tongue, but there was no point in arguing with someone who’d never understand. Arguing took time away from packing. Time away from getting the hell out of this town. I dropped my shirt into the suitcase and pulled several more out of the closet. “I’m not wrong. I happen to know how this turns out.”

Dakota wandered throughout the room, her gaze touching everything, as if cataloging my life by the items I’d packed. When she stopped, she pulled a phone out of her pocket and started tapping the screen.

“My brother isn’t the catalyst of your death,” she said as her eyes narrowed on something on her phone, and she turned it around to me. “Your lack of observation is. You should really be more observant of your surroundings.”

I took the phone, recognizing the man’s face frozen on the video. Carlos Howard. My breath caught in my throat. Carlos had been standing behind me in line when I’d ordered my three coffees. He was shooting daggers in my direction. Carlos was the only person I knew who wanted me dead and could get the job done. If he was here, I was out of timeandluck.

I swallowed hard. “Wow. I didn’t see him.”

“You can hit play,” Dakota said.

With a tap on the screen, the sound came to life. The point of view of the picture was from a table near where I’d been sitting. Dakota must have witnessed my entire conversation with her brother. Only the angle of this camera wasn’t pointed at us. It was pointed at Carlos. It was eerie the way he watched us from across the room. The way he looked ready to pounce. The way the other guy with him shifted, giving a glimpse of the gun beneath his shirt.

That wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was watching as he followed me out the door.

Knowing he’d been that close and I’d been caught unaware caused a shiver to run down my spine, reminding me that this was the exact reason I couldn’t stay.

“How did he find me?” I whispered as I eased down onto the bed.

“So, you do know who that guy is,” Dakota asked. “I thought you might. I haven’t shown it to my husband yet, but like my brother, I can read people, and what that guy is putting out is that he’s one pissed-off, angry S.O.B.” Dakota took her phone back and pushed several buttons until it made a sound like the video was being sent via email.

“He wants me dead.” I swallowed hard and stood again, this time yanking my clothes off the hangers in a quicker attempt to get the hell out of this town. Carlos’s brother, Raul, wasn’t here this time to slow me down. I shoved my clothes into my suitcase without folding them. “I need to go.”

Dakota moved to the window again and eased the curtain back. “If you were hoping to outrun him, I’m afraid you’ve failed. He’s already here, parked three rows behind your rental.”

I didn’t need to look to know she was telling the truth. He was probably just waiting for the opportune time to pounce. In that light, knowing Carlos was nearby, my death made sense.

---