Page 27 of Evidence of Deceit

Mark, who had been silent, said, “Maybe she should get a restraining order.”

“We need to consult a lawyer first. I don’t know what the requirements are for that since he hasn’t done anything wrong except for harassing Claire by sending flowers. I can pass that by a lawyer I know,” said Sam. “However, I am concerned about you staying here. Keith knows you’re here. Who knows what he has planned if he is as devious as you say?”

“She can stay at my place.”

Sam’s head came up as she stared at Joe. Joe, who never had anyone stay at his place. If she didn’t have his address onrecord, and visited him that one time, she wouldn’t even know where he lived.

“Is that a good idea? How can you protect Claire there?”

Joe glanced at Sam. “I have great security. No one knows where I live.”

Mark snorted.

Joe ignored him and continued. “My place is out of the way, and I have the skillset to protect Claire.”

“No disagreement there.” Sam looked at Claire, who was clutching her stomach. “Claire would that be all right with you?” she asked softly. “You can be honest if you’re uncomfortable going to Joe’s or being with Joe. We have other options.”

Claire hesitated, stared at Sam for a moment, then glanced at Joe. “I have no problem going to Joe’s house, and I know he will protect me with his life.”

“Good.” She slapped her hands on her thighs and stood. “Then we’re all set if living here becomes a problem.”

Sam looked around their little group. This was a clusterfuck in the making. They were all trying the best they could to protect Claire, but Keith was a devious adversary, and Sam hoped they were all up for the challenge. Lives would be lost or ruined if they weren’t.

Chapter Sixteen

Keith stepped out of the Uber and walked straight into the oppressive humidity that clung to his body like armor. How anyone lived in this mess that was Florida was something he didn’t understand. The one good thing was the glass behemoth standing before him, welcoming him in.

He stayed at the Omni when he had business in Black Pointe. For his very private business, he had a penthouse condo at the Art Deco. It had been another deal gone right for him just like the penthouse in New York. All these crooks who thought they could get away with something found they had to give something away to avoid going to jail. No one knew he owned it; it wasn’t something he flaunted. All he had to do was pay the condo fees and incidentals.

The Art Deco was his very favorite hotel, and he appreciated the modern glass interior and stunning art on the wall. The bell captain took his bags and raced off inside. Keith took his time walking up the sidewalk, admiring the view.

“Mr. Willis, welcome.”

He turned to watch an attractive, older woman walkingtoward him. That was one of the reasons he loved coming here. They treated guests like royalty.

“Your condo is ready, Mr. Willis. If there’s anything we can do to make your stay better, let me know. Your bags are already upstairs. Do you need anything else?”

Just my wife,but she couldn’t help him with that. He said no.

With a small flourish, she handed him his room key. He rode up to the twenty-eighth floor. He opened the door to the suite of rooms overlooking the Atlantic. The view always took his breath away. The sliding glass doors opened to a balcony with a table and chairs and two lounge chairs. The roar of the waves would lull him to sleep. He took in the soothing beige wall, the gold-checkerboard mirror hanging over the king-size bed. Damn Claire. She should be here, already naked in bed, readying herself for him.

He unpacked his bag, sat down at the wicker desk and opened his computer. Troy Romano, his private investigator, had been following Claire for the past week since Keith returned to Manhattan for a business meeting. But he had come back as soon as he could, hiring a private jet to bring him down—no fussy check-in. No one knew he was here except for Hillary. Troy had already given him the skinny on KnightGuard Security, the owner Sam Knight, and identified Joe Harkin as the guy fucking his Claire. He would take care of all of them, but first, he needed to get Claire to come home.

She was still living at her cousin’s house, probably feeling safe since he was sure KnightGuard had figured out he left Florida. She was a fool if she thought he was going away or divorcing her. No one, and he meant no one, took what was his.

Hadn’t his good friend Mason learned that lesson the hard way? Mason had taken Keith’s first love in high school rightfrom under his nose. Flaunted it to their friends. Made jokes about it to his face under the guise of good ol’ boy friendship. He waited a long time to get even. When he heard that Mason was dating Claire and had told him that he was serious about their relationship, Keith stepped in, insidiously injecting himself into her life until she broke it off with Mason. Then he swept in for the kill—er—asked for her hand in marriage. Never mentioned his part in their breakup to Mason. But Mason knew. Revenge was sweet.

First things first. Troy reported she was still at her cousin’s house. He had to remedy that. Somehow, he had to get her out and moved somewhere else. Too many people around. Where would they go? Troy told him where the fucker lived who was guarding her. Would it be too much to hope that they would go to his house if she felt unsafe? And wasn’t this Harkin a loser—living on the streets, getting into trouble with the police, and getting kicked out of foster home after foster home before finally joining the Navy? So, what if he was an ex-SEAL? He was still a loser.

Why did she want that loser when she had, could have someone successful like him? Women. Never understood them. No wonder they had to be guided like children. Easy enough. Reward them when they were good. Punish them when they were bad. Isn’t that what his father always told him? Actually, his old man never said to reward them if they were good. Perhaps that was the reason why his mother left when he was young.

He rubbed his hands together in glee.Let’s see.More tulips were in order. Or another visit to Mark’s house. He could beg her to come home. Probably wouldn’t work, but he could try. At the very least, she would feel unsafe. He could throw in a couple of veiled threats against Mark. That would do it. KnightGuard would hustle her out. Troy would follow. There was no place Claire could hide where he couldn’t find her.

Plans made, he shut off his computer, pulled out a small blue box from his pocket, and went downstairs to the bar. He was horny, and he knew he could get a little action there. The women hanging out at the hotel bar weren’t looking for tomorrow, just a night of sex, and they always became more enthusiastic when presented with a trinket from Tiffany’s. He could write off the trinkets, and he got off.

But they sure wouldn’t be going up to his condo. He had reserved a smaller room on a lower floor under another name just for good times.

Chapter Seventeen

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