“Did you have fun with Shanyn?” He glanced down at his niece.
“Uh-huh.” She nodded, her blond curls bouncing.
“I’m glad we came then.” His attention snagged on a man emerging from a black Cadillac sedan parked next to Noah’s BMW, all well lit by the lights brightening the parking lot. Noahrecognized him immediately. Frederick Hayes, owner of Hayes Industries, MidAtlantic’s rival in the Tidewater merger.
Frederick Hayes was tall and imposing in his custom-tailored suit that had probably cost more than what most people in Driftwood made in a month. His steel-gray hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place despite the wind.
Noah had met him only once before, but he’d heard enough about him to tighten his grip on Charlotte’s hand.
“Noah Aylett.” Frederick spoke over his shiny car, his voice carrying a polished, boarding-school cadence that grated on Noah’s nerves. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Frederick. Bit far from home, aren’t you?”
Hayes’s smile widened as he approached, revealing teeth that were too perfect, too white. “Business brings me to all sorts of places these days. The coastal towns have such…charm.” His gaze drifted down to Charlotte, who had partially hidden herself behind Noah’s leg. “And who might this be?”
Noah didn’t want Frederick anywhere near Charlotte. His phone rang in his pocket, giving him an excuse to avoid the question.
He pulled it out. “I’d better get this.” He tugged Charlotte away from Hayes and toward his car, thankful for the distraction.
Charlotte tugged at his sleeve as he checked the phone screen.
“It’s Miss Laney,” he told her, hiding his flicker of concern. She rarely called him, generally texting if she had a question about Charlotte.
“Hello?”
“I’m sorry to bother you”—her voice was high and panicked—“but my brakes failed and I crashed my car and now there’s someone?—”
“Slow down.” Worry crawled up his spine. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so. I’m at an abandoned strip mall and there’s a car just sitting there with its high beams on me. They won’t leave or help or anything. They’re just…watching.”
Lena. The woman was unhinged, but was she dangerous? He picked up Charlotte and carried her to his BMW.“Call 911. Right now.”
“I already did. The police are on their way.”
“Good, good. Stay in your car. Lock the doors. Don’t get out for anyone except the police or me.” He opened the rear door of his sedan as his phone dinged. After he settled Charlotte in her seat, he checked the pin she’d sent marking her location. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Okay. Thank you.” She ended the call.
Noah buckled Charlotte quickly. His niece sensed his urgency, her eyes wide and solemn.
“Is Miss Laney okay?”
“She’s going to be fine.” He hoped to God that was true. “She just needs a ride.”
He pulled out of the restaurant parking lot faster than he should have, his mind racing. The abandoned strip mall was on the highway leading out of town—isolated, dark, the perfect place to corner someone.
His phone rang through the car’s speakers. Richard’s name appeared on the dashboard display.
“Not now,” he muttered, declining the call.
He made the ten-minute drive in seven.
Flashing red and blue lights cut through the darkness as Noah turned onto the gravel driveway. Two police cruisers flanked Delaney’s Highlander, which was wrapped around a thick oak tree, the hood crumpled like an accordion.
Noah’s stomach dropped. She could have been killed.
“Uncle Noah?” Charlotte’s voice was barely a whisper from the backseat. Even so, he heard panic in it. “I don’t wanna go with them. I wanna stay with you.”
