“Hi. What the heck is up with him?” Brigid burst out. “He sounds weird.”
“Get the full story from Angus.” Dana huddled over the phone, feeling like she should whisper. “He just broke my phone and he’s not talking to me and the guy he’s chasing planted a bomb and it totally changed everything.” She looked behind her, tracking Wolfe’s movements. Betraying Wolfe’s trust right now seemed like a bad idea, but this was all going so wrong so fast.
“A bomb? Is everyone okay?” Brigid asked, her Irish accent deepening.
“Yeah, and I’m sure Angus knows more than I do right now, so definitely call him,” Dana said, which was the truth. “Then call me and tell me everything Wolfe isn’t, if I can’t get it out of him. Which I will. But call me anyway.”
The sound of typing came over the line. “What do you want saved?” Brigid asked.
“All of it,” Dana burst out. “Don’t listen to him. He’s way off, and I don’t want to lose any of my stuff.”
More typing sounded. “I’ll save all of your pictures, but there’s no reason to save GPS or any of that data, is there?”
“Well, no.” Dana craned her neck to watch Wolfe pumping gas, his gaze not wavering from the gas tank. “I guess that’s okay, and I don’t have any articles or story drafts in the cloud or anything.”
Brigid typed faster, the sound rhythmic. “Well, he obviously thinks you’re in danger and wants you to be untraceable. You should probably find out why.”
Dana’s legs shook. “I’ll ask him, but so far, he’s not talking to me.” That Gary Rockcliff had found them and planted a bomb was scary as hell, and she could understand that Wolfe was spooked. Or pissed. Or both. She couldn’t read him.
“Angus said that Roscoe is with you. What’s his mood? He reads the guys pretty well,” Brigid said.
Dana glanced down at the snoring dog. “He’s sleeping, but he’s hungover.”
“Oh. Then he won’t be much help until tomorrow.” Brigid kept typing.
This might be a mistake, but she couldn’t let Wolfe take on the lunatic by himself. “Have the team go to Wolfe’s house and check out his office. Look at the evidence board he has set up.” She was betraying his confidence, and her voice shook. He might hate her, but he’d still be alive.
“Evidence board?” Brigid asked.
“Yes,” Dana whispered.
Wolfe replaced the gas nozzle and then opened his door, holding out his hand. “Phone.”
Dana faltered and handed him his phone, trying to read his expression, but it was like trying to get through a stone wall with no cracks.
“Hey,” Wolfe said into the phone. “Do me a favor and tell Force to be ready. Bye.” He tore his phone apart and beat it into pieces on the ground before tossing it away. He glanced at the dog and retook his seat, shutting his door and driving out of the area. “Seat belt.”
Oh, he did not.
She crossed her arms. “No.”
He checked left and then pulled onto the quiet road. “Belt. Now.”
“Fuck. You.”
His gaze lifted from the pavement to the sky before he yanked the wheel to the right and pulled off the road. Slowly, deliberately, he put the vehicle in park and partially turned to face her. No words. Just burning topaz eyes and a jaw that was solid rock.
The saliva in her mouth dried up as she faced him, her stomach cramping. The area around her solar plexus ached, making breathing difficult, which she tried to hide. Anticipation ripped through her, tossing her into a fight-or-flight mode. She really wanted to flee.
He reminded her of a cougar that had gotten its leg stuck in a trap near the river one time, snarling and furious before the vet arrived to free him.
She cleared her throat. Once and again, searching for anger, but all she could find was bewildered concern. “I want to help,” she said.
“You will. For now, put on your damn seat belt.” He didn’t move.
She remained still. He’d just sworn, so she was getting some kind of reaction out of him. “How am I going to help?”
“We’ll discuss it on the way.”
