them were her.
He knew she drove a Mercedes. Those were expensive cars to own, but she was just an office manager. He couldn’t find a single debt in her name, and decided she must be independently wealthy. But if this was the case, then why the hell was she working for a PI? The moment he thought that, he laughed at himself for being so blind. People could ask the same thing of him. He knew how he was doing it, but how the hell was Jade Wyrick hiding in plain sight?
He was already ignoring Cyrus Parks’s warning that she was dangerous. She was intriguing, which made the hunt that much better. A prey worthy of hunting was what made a hunt worthwhile. But the only thing he knew for sure was where she worked, and that she had some kind of psychic abilities. He was an open-minded man. He believed such things were possible, and it was the only explanation for her being able to connect him to Parks.
What he needed now was to find out where she lived. He had two options. Try to follow her again, which had proved futile before, or track her from a distance, which meant he needed to bug her car.
Unaware that Parks’s prior employees had tried that and failed miserably, he opened his safe, picked up a couple of GPS tracking devices in magnetic cases, then put them and a laptop into his briefcase and left his office, pausing at his secretary’s desk long enough to tell her where he was going.
“I’m leaving for an early lunch, and will be out the rest of the afternoon scouting locations. You know how to reach me.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, and then went back to work as he walked out of the office into a blast of cold air and glanced up at the gathering storm clouds.
“Damn,” he muttered, and ran for the car.
* * *
Charlie was at his desk all morning, but was accomplishing nothing. His heart and thoughts were with Annie. It was just before noon when he finally signed off at the computer and stood. He stretched, then turned to face the bank of windows behind his desk. The thunderstorm was almost on top of them.
He glanced down at the parking lot, and as he did, he saw someone come speeding into the lot, then brake to a sliding halt behind Wyrick’s Mercedes.
Charlie frowned, and when he saw the driver get out on the run with something in his hand and drop to his knees behind her car, he turned and ran.
Wyrick looked up as Charlie flew past her desk and then out the door. She didn’t know what was wrong, but if Charlie was running, she was following. She ran out into the hall toward the elevator. But as she passed the stairwell and heard the sounds of footsteps going down, she took the stairs, as well, leaping several steps at a time.
She came out onto the main floor just as Charlie hit the exit door with the flat of his hand and ran outside.
* * *
Charlie came out of the building just as the man was coming back from the front of Wyrick’s car.
Boyington saw him coming and, all too late, remembered Wyrick warning him that he did not want to make an enemy of Charlie Dodge. He had but a few brief seconds to brace himself, before Charlie hit him in a flying leap.
And Wyrick came out just as the two men went down in a tangle of arms and legs—a tackle worthy of the NFL.
At that point, the heavens decided to unleash. A nearby crack of lightning followed by a rumble of thunder was the only warning they were going to get. And then the rain came down.
Boyington was cursing a blue streak, struggling against the weight of the man on top of him, and pummeling Charlie’s chest and shoulders while still trying to breathe.
Disgusted, Charlie just pulled back his fist and knocked him out.
“Call the cops,” Charlie said, and rolled off Boyington, only to wind up with the rain in his face.
At that point, he stood up to keep from drowning, and then rolled the unconscious man onto his side for the same reason.
Wyrick stared. “That’s Darrell Boyington.”
Charlie sighed, took the phone out of her hand, made the call, then handed it back. Wyrick was still in shock, and it showed. He’d never seen her with this inability to function.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Check beneath your back bumper