I wondered what had caused the quick turnaround. His friendship with Warren Fox? Me? Something else?
But I didn’t feel like celebrating my victory in making the detective agree to my plan. Something was bothering Donovan. Me, most likely, and what had happened between us in the backseat of his sedan. But the detective’s anger over my assassinating Cliff Ingles, his corrupt partner, seemed to have faded away, for whatever reason.
Donovan hadn’t mentioned it once all day. So what had I done now that was so terrible besides give him a couple of orgasms? I couldn’t help but wonder.
But now wasn’t the time to focus on Donovan Caine and this curious warmth I felt for him. Things needed to be done tonight before I made any kind of move against Tobias Dawson. So I pushed thoughts of the detective away and looked at the others.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I said.
22
“First of all, the two of you,” I jerked my head at the Foxes, “need to disappear for the next few days. Take a vacation somewhere.”
Warren shook his head. “No. I’m not running from Tobias Dawson. Never have, never will.”
“And what about Violet?” I asked. “She almost got raped and killed last night because Dawson wanted to send you a message. If he even thinks the break-in at the mining office tonight is connected to you, he’ll come down here, kill you two, and burn everything to the ground. Is that what you want?”
“Of course not,” Warren snapped. “But I’m a Fox, of the Ridgeline Hollow Foxes. My ancestors have lived in these mountains for more than three hundred years. The settlers didn’t drive my people out, and I’ll be damned if one greedy dwarf is going to make me go anywhere. I’ve never run from a fight. I’m not about to start now.”
A mulish look spread across his wrinkled face, and I knew he wasn’t going to budge. Not on this point. Warren might die, but he’d do it in his own store — just like Fletcher had. My heart twisted, and the old man’s ruined face awam before my eyes. I shoved the image away. Warren T. Fox wasn’t going to end up like Fletcher Lane — not if I could help it.
“Fine. You can stay here in the house.”
Warren smiled.
“With Sophia and Jo-Jo as protection,” I added. “And you’re going to close the store for the rest of the week. That’s not a request.”
His smile slipped. “Why?”
“Because Tobias Dawson will be sure to be watching. If he sees the store’s closed, he might think you’re finally softening up. It should buy us a little extra time.”
“What about me?” Violet asked. “I can’t exactly leave either. I’ve got classes and exams coming up.”
I turned to her. “Do you have a friend you could stay with for the next few days?”
She nodded. “I could stay with Eva Grayson.”
I flashed back to that night in the Pork Pit when Owen Grayson had told his little sister she was getting a bodyguard whether she liked it or not. The guy I’d seen Eva with at the community college had looked capable enough. So had Owen, for that matter. Staying with the Graysons was probably the best place for Violet until this thing was over. “All right. Call Eva.”
Violet blinked. “Now?”
I nodded. “Now. I want this all squared away tonight. That way, I can focus on getting to Dawson.”
I looked at the two dwarves. “You two think you can stand guard duty for a few days?”
“Of course,” Jo-Jo said. “Anything you need, Gin. You know that.”
“Um-mmm.” Sophia grunted her agreement.
“What about me?” Finn asked.
I smiled at him. “Fletcher’s gone, so you’re my handler now. I want everything you’ve got on Tobias Dawson. You know what to do with it.”
Finn nodded.
And then there was one. I stared at the detective, who still wore a stricken look on his face. “What are you going to do, Donovan?”
He stared at the carpet underneath his muddy shoes.
The detective knew what I was asking — if he was going to try to stop me or worse, warn Tobias Dawson that I was coming for him.
“Nothing. I’m not going to do anything. Not a damn thing.” Donovan scrubbed his hands through his black hair and let out a bitter laugh. The detective had just sided with an assassin, with the Spider. He’d just condemned another man to death, and he knew it.
“Good,” I said. “Then let’s get to work.”
——
An hour later we were all set. While Finn slid his laptop into its leather case, Violet gave her grandfather a long, tight hug. Eva Grayson had been thrilled her best friend wanted to crash at her place a few days, and Violet had already packed a bag. Now we stood in the foyer of the house, saying our good-byes.
“You could come with me,” Violet told her grandfather.
Warren put a speckled hand on her cheek and shook his head. “You know I can’t. That’s just not me. The only way I’m leaving this land is when they cart me off in a pine box. Besides, Gin might need me for something. I want to be around if she does.”
Violet nodded and tried to smile. Tears filled her dark eyes.
“We need to get you to Eva’s,” I said in a low voice.
Violet gave her grandfather another hug and picked up her bag. Finn held open the door for her, and the two of them stepped outside.
I went over to Sophia and Jo-Jo. “If anything happens, if Tobias Dawson or his men come back, you kill first and ask questions later, understand?”
The Goth dwarf grunted at me. Jo-Jo nodded her head.
“We know, Gin,” Jo-Jo said. “This isn’t the first time Sophia and I have done this sort of thing.”
I frowned. “It’s not?”
The dwarf smiled. “No. We watched out for folks for Fletcher a time or two as well.”
Again, there was that mention of Fletcher Lane helping out other people. That secret part of him that I hadn’t known about. I don’t know why the thought unsettled me, but it did. Or maybe it was just because I was off the edge of the map here. I’d spent seventeen years of my life killing people, and here I was trying to save an old man and his granddaughter from a greedy miner — for free, no less. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Only one thing was certain. It was a hell of a lot more entertaining than my retirement had been so far.
I left the dwarves to watch over Warren and stepped outside. Violet waited with Finn on the porch. Donovan Caine leaned against the porch railing, still brooding.
“Take Violet straight to Eva Grayson’s house,” I told Finn. “No stops.”
Finn pouted. “Would I do something like that?”
“Yes.”
He stuck out his lip a little more. Violet laughed at his expression. Finn’s green eyes swept over her. He grinned.
“Shotgun, Finn,” I murmured to him. “Remember Grandpa Fox and his shotgun.”
That dulled Finn’s smile, but it didn’t completely erase it. Few things could ever do that. Finn had pulled his Cadillac over to the house. He opened the passenger’s side door for Violet, who gave him another shy smile, then slid inside.
After a moment, Finn tore his gaze away from her long enough to glance at me. “Hope you don’t mind sitting in the back,” he said in a very unapologetic tone.
“I don’t mind at all because Donovan’s going to drive me home,” I announced.
Finn blinked. “He is?”
“I am?” Donovan chimed in.
“Yeah,” I said. “You are.”
Donovan’s face tightened a little more in the darkness.
——
Finn and Violet headed back toward Ashland, and Donovan and I did the same in his sedan. We didn’t speak, except when I gave him directions to Fletcher Lane’s house.