I didn’t know why the crime boss was so interested in my shipping yard, especially since he already owned a much larger one a couple of miles downriver, but he wasnevergetting his hands on my property. Not as long as I was still breathing. Then again, Clyde wasn’t averse to murdering me any more than I was to killing him, should the opportunity present itself.
Or perhaps I shouldmakethe opportunity present itself. Gin Blanco wasn’t the only person in Ashland capable of assassinating someone, and Clyde O’Neal had already caused me plenty of problems. Perhaps it was time to put an end to him once and for all.
“Have you thought about my latest offer? If it’s not to your liking, I’m prepared to increase it. I just want you to be happy, Lorelei,” Clyde said, his deep voice as smooth and sickly sweet as syrup dripping all over a pancake.
I tossed my napkin onto the table, pushed my chair back, and got to my feet. Given his six-foot-plus height, I was several inches shorter than Clyde, but I tipped my chin up and gave him my iciest stare. “As I’ve told you before, my property isnotfor sale—not for any price.”
Anger shimmered in Clyde’s brown eyes, and he stepped forward, trying to intimidate me with his much larger size and obvious strength. His red-hot glare and ominous looming might have frightened someone else but not me. My childhood had been one horror show after another, with both my father and my brother constantly finding new ways to torture me and my mother for the slightest imagined offense. And nothing—nothing—the crime boss could do to me could ever compare to the agony of watching my mother die and not being able to save her. But guys like Clyde O’Neal always thought they were tougher, stronger, smarter, and scarier than they truly were. Arrogant idiot.
“You should sell to me—before something unfortunate happens,” Clyde said, his voice still syrupy sweet. “Shipping yards can be suchdangerousplaces. Equipment can malfunction, containers can be stolen, fires can break out. Why, you just never knowwhatbad thing might happen.”
These threats echoed similar ones that he’d tossed at me over the past few weeks, and I gave him a cold, thin smile in return. “If somethingunfortunatedoes happen, I’ll be sure to let you know. Especially since all those nasty malfunctions, thefts, and fires could just as easily happen atyourshipping yard.”
More anger shimmered in Clyde’s eyes. He opened his mouth, probably to spew another thinly veiled threat, but a waiter came over and cleared his throat.
“Mr. O’Neal? Your table is ready. If you will follow me, please?”
Clyde glared at me a moment longer, then jerked his head. “Come on, Hugh. Let’s eat. I have a business proposition that I’m justdyingto discuss with you.”
My gaze snapped over to Tucker, but once again, his face revealed nothing. He could have been part of the brick wall for all the emotion he showed.
“Of course. I appreciate your invitation,” he replied, although he never took his eyes off mine. “Ms. Parker, so lovely to see you again.”
“Always a pleasure, Mr. Tucker,” I drawled.
Ms. ParkerandMr. Tuckerwere part of this weird routine we had fallen into over the past several weeks. Despite all the time we had spent together while he was recuperating in Gin’s shipping container, Tucker had never once called me by my first name. I had never called the vampire by his either, not wanting to be the first one to give in to…whatever was brewing between us.
Tucker stared at me a heartbeat longer, then tipped his head to Mallory and Mosley again. He spun around on his shiny black wing tips and followed Clyde over to another table along the wall. I sank back into my chair, although I was still painfully aware of Tucker sitting just a few feet away.
“Mmm-mmm-mmm! That is one fine-looking man,” Mallory said, an appreciative purr in her twangy voice. “Then again, I’ve always had a thing for tall, dark, handsome, and brooding.”
I huffed. “Oh, really? Funny how I’ve never heard you sayanyof that before.”
Mallory gave me a coy look and patted her snow-white hair. “I might be old, pumpkin, but I’m not dead.”
Mosley pointedly cleared his throat.
“Although no one can hold a candle to my Stuey.” She beamed at the other dwarf, and Mosley leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Mallory giggled, then whispered something in Mosley’s ear that made a wide grin spread across his face. Once again, I took another drink of water to hide my grimace. I was happy for my grandmother—truly, I was—but I could have done without the public displays of affection. But I supposed that newlyweds were newlyweds, no matter their age.
While Mallory and Mosley whispered sweet somethings into each other’s ears, my gaze drifted back over to Clyde O’Neal and Hugh Tucker. The crime boss was watching a waiter open a bottle of champagne, while the vampire was studying a menu—
POP!
The sound of the cork squirting out of the bottle was as loud as a gunshot. I flinched, although Mallory and Mosley were still too engrossed in each other to notice.
The waiter poured the champagne, and Clyde picked up his drink.
“To our new partnership.” His voice boomed through the restaurant again, as did the sharp, crystallinetingof his glass clinking against Tucker’s.
Over the past few weeks, scores of underworld bosses had been seen wining and dining Tucker, both here at Underwood’s and at Northern Aggression and other restaurants, clubs, and bars. Everyone in Ashland wanted the vampire to join their organization so they could use his knowledge of the Circle to bolster their own criminal empires. Clyde O’Neal seemed to be the latest contestant in the Hugh Tucker sweepstakes, which worried me more than I cared to admit.
Because with Tucker by his side, the crime boss might finally figure out a way to get his hands on my shipping yard—and kill me in the process.
ChapterTwo
Mallory and Mosleyfinally finished their whispered conversation. This dinner was my welcome-home present to them, so I paid the bill, and we left the restaurant. Mallory and I stood on the sidewalk while Mosley retrieved his car from the valet.
