Page 90 of Relapse
‘I didn’t mean to go in your office.’ That’s what Harper said when she was freaking out yesterday. What were the odds that this would be the room I’d wind up in? Seemed like divine influence if you asked me. Someone up there must want me to have a look around. It would be wrong to deny them.
The smile curling my mouth was wiped away when a stapler cracked off my cheek. I completely forgot about my captive until I locked eyes with her angry glare.
“I warned you, Mason Kessler,” Mrs. Benson growled and came at me again.
This time I ducked under her swing, which was a pretty impressive feat considering I had a good foot on her. Might’ve even patted myself on the back if she hadn’t dug her elbow into my gut.
“God damnit,” I snarled.
A feral cat was more controllable. Luckily there was a small closet with just enough room to push her in. I only took two more hits doing that, and with a chair propped up under the handle she wasn’t going anywhere. I stood back to admire my handiwork. Even smiled a little when the door vibrated with her fists. Maybe Preston was onto something with his boom handle lock?
“Let me out of here!”
“Pipe down,” I snickered and sauntered over to the desk.
It was time to see what old Ned has been up to.
Turned out, he wasn’t up to much. Most of what I found was pretty standard stuff. Business letters, accounting crap, shit like that. What did catch my eye were the two letters sitting on the top of the desk. Both were opened and one was signed. The interesting part… they were dated two days ago. It was kind of hard for someone out of town to sign a document. So the real question was, where the fuck was Ned Callaghan?
My thought was interrupted by a buzzing in my jacket pocket. It was probably Lou again. He’d called three times since I ducked out this morning. Guess I should answer, even if it was just to tell him to fuck off. He’d keep calling if I didn’t. But it wasn’t Lou’s name I saw on the phone. It wasn’t even my phone.
I cocked a brow down at the white jewelled case then smirked at the name lighting up the screen.
Setting the phone down on the desk, I clicked on the speaker phone and said, “Hey Ned. Long time no see.”
“Mason?”
That’s right, motherfucker.
“Where’s my daughter?”
“Harper’s a little tied up at the moment.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. For all I knew, Preston had her bound in the trunk with his current victim. Why did that bother me?
A light sigh wafted through the speaker. “I want to talk to my daughter.”
I just bet he did.
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” I braced my palms on the desk and bent over, bringing my lips close to the phone. “Or do you only like hitting little girls?”
Ned wasn’t the only one that went quiet. The closet door had stopped thudding. Interesting. Did the almighty Mrs. Benson not know what was going on under this roof, or was she afraid that I knew?
If Ned didn’t want to talk, that was fine. I could handle the conversation. I’d even spur him on a bit while I did it. I pulled open one of the desk drawers and loudly rifled around with the stuff inside.
“You have a nice office, Ned. Very… clean.”
A grin spread across my face when his voice came from the other line.
“I like to keep things in order.”
“Like your daughter?” I shot back.
“Indeed.” He hummed. “You should be thanking me for that.”
Did this motherfucker just say I should be thanking him? “What exactly should I be thanking you for?”
“Has Harper given you any problems?”
Shewasmy problem. I wanted to kill her and wrap her up in a bubble at the same time. For the first time in seven years, I started to wonder if Harper had a choice in what she did. Was she an innocent victim with big daddy Callaghan pulling the shots?
