Wallace got halfway up the stairs before noticing him. Then he startled so badly he nearly fell.
“What the hell?” he growled, clinging to the handrail.
Virgil stepped aside so that, once he recovered, Wallace could climb onto the deck. “You couldn’t return my calls? Let me know Laurel’s okay?”
“I’ve been busy.”
Virgil had a feeling it was more than that. Wallace wouldn’t even look at him. The guy had gone to ridiculous lengths to impress him on Friday. Virgil wanted to laugh when he remembered how he’d bragged about his life, his job, the money he was making. Today Wallace seemed like a completely different person, almost…morose.
Why was he so upset? Had something happened to Laurel?
“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” he asked. “Laurel’s safe? She’s okay, right?”
“Of course. She’s miles away from Florence in a safe house with a U.S. marshal. Her and the kids. No one’ll find them, let alone hurt them.”
“Can I talk to her?”
“No.”
Anger tugged at his restraint. “Why not?”
“It’s better to have no contact until this thing’s over.”
Better for whom? Not for him. Or Laurel. Not if they could communicate safely. And Virgil believed they could—at least until he went inside. “I could use a pay phone.”
Wallace held up his hands. “Listen, I’m exhausted, okay? So just…back off.”
Virgil folded his arms. He’d expected Wallace to ask how he knew where Peyton lived and had planned to explain that she’d brought him out here to go over some information on the Hells Fury. That was true. His first visit had been very innocent, although the situation had changed since. But Wallace didn’t ask. And that made Virgil even more uncomfortable. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Wallace acted beleaguered, as if he’d had a bad day.
“Travel too stressful for you?”
The associate director glared at him. “Among other things.”
Virgil felt no sympathy. From his perspective, Wallace had a damn good life. He’d certainly portrayed it as ideal on Friday. Even if he knew Virgil had been with Peyton, he had no right to be upset. He was married. He should be thinking about his wife, not Peyton. “You haven’t asked me what I’m doing here,” he pointed out. Or how I found the place….
The malevolence that came over Wallace’s face surprised Virgil. What the hell was wrong with the guy? Virgil hadn’t liked him much, but he hadn’t felt any animosity between them, either. Now, suddenly, they were enemies?
Wallace knew about Peyton. He had to know. But how?
Trying to get a better look at his expression, Virgil stepped forward, but Wallace turned away. “That’s a good question,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“This morning the manager of the motel called to ask if I was all right.”
“So?”
“I got the impression she was more curious than concerned. So I left.”
“You’re being paranoid.”
Had he forgotten Trinity Woods? “That’s what you thought when I told you my sister was in danger. I had to push you to go to Florence to get her. If you’d waited until Monday, like you planned, she’d be dead instead of the babysitter.”
“This is different.”
“How?”
“Why would the manager of the Redwood Inn be curious about you? You’re just some guy who rented a room.”
“Not quite. The room’s on your tab, so that connects us. And there are a lot of people in this town who keep an eye on whatever you do, since their livelihoods depend on the prison.”
“So what? I stay at that motel all the time, and I often bring people to town, to tour the prison or for meetings. What did the manager do that made you think she was acting suspicious?”
“She gave me a funny feeling, so I decided to get out of there. Why take chances?”
With a sigh that signaled a small concession, Wallace put his briefcase on the picnic table. “Did she get a good look at you?”
“I don’t see how she could have. I slipped out while she was handling a delivery.”
“And that’s when you called Peyton to come to your rescue.” The steely note was back in his voice.
“I haven’t called Peyton for anything. I don’t even have her number. It’s not like the phone at the motel has caller ID.”
“If she didn’t drive you, how’d you get here?”
“I walked.”
“Ten miles?”
“I’m not helpless.” Virgil had made the same trek last night to leave her the rose. It took him a little over two hours each way. But he didn’t mind the exercise. After being locked up, it was empowering just to be able to go where he pleased.
How would he handle being locked up again? It wouldn’t be easy; he understood that. The freedom he’d enjoyed these past few days had been intoxicating.
Knowing Peyton would be there, at the prison, was the only thing that made it tolerable. He didn’t want to acknowledge why.
Wallace glanced around. “So where is she?”
“Haven’t seen her.”
He checked his watch. “She’s probably not home from the prison yet. You ready for tomorrow?”
“I am.”
“Peyton briefed you on who’s who in the Hells Fury?”
“She did. She brought me here on Friday, showed me photos, told me everything she knows about them.”
They both heard a car coming up the drive. Rick was closer to the edge of the deck and walked over first, so Virgil hung back. Neither of them spoke as she climbed the stairs. Wallace’s car would’ve alerted her to the fact that she had company.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Rick.
Maybe he hadn’t communicated with her, either….
“I figured I’d better come back to…protect my interests.”
“Which are…?”
“A successful operation, of course.”
“Coming today instead of tomorrow is somehow going to help?”
“I’m needed here.” He motioned to Virgil. “Our friend is afraid to stay at the motel. I guess Michelle’s been showing some interest. And I wouldn’t want him becoming an imposition on you.”
When her gaze swung his way, Virgil could tell she hadn’t realized he was there. Her lips parted, but she didn’t reveal any more surprise than that.
Thanks to Wallace, Virgil felt completely exposed. He could’ve lain low without showing up here as Wallace had just pointed out. He’d come because he wanted to see her. And that had to be apparent. “It’s dark now, so I can go back,” he said, and skirted past them.
He wished she’d do something to show she’d forgiven him. But she didn’t. She averted her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to look at him and let him go.
19
Wallace studied Peyton as Virgil left. He thought she might run after him. The way her eyes followed him suggested she wanted to. That bothered Rick, but she held back and, to be sure she didn’t surrender to the impulse, he moved in front of her and indicated the door. “Shall we go in?”
She lowered her voice even though Virgil’s footsteps had faded. “What are you doing? You can’t let him go back to that motel.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not safe! If he’s really on Michelle’s radar, she won’t forget it. You don’t want her to start talking. All of Crescent City will wonder about Virgil if she does.”
“Virgil.”
“That’s his name.”
It was her familiarity with it that drove him crazy. “So what do you want me to do? Rent a room for him somewhere else? How do we know that won’t make matters worse?”