Clashing Hearts - Nicky James Page 0,47

said it wasn’t a big deal. I’m going to get answers out of those kids and find out who’s responsible. Someone will rat. Teenagers have weak loyalties. Believe me. When I know who’s responsible, we can press charges, and the cost is their responsibility, not yours. Hell, we’ll make them come out here and repaint if we have to. Call it community service.”

My jaw quivered once when my gaze returned to my dog. Percy had sat down beside him and was rubbing my shirt along his side, trying to get more paint off. I clenched my teeth, fighting back the surge of emotion that climbed my throat.

When I knew I could talk without getting choked up, I said, “Windsor, look at my dog.”

The chief sighed and wiped a hand down his face. “Wanna call the vet?”

I considered Logan’s eye, but he wasn’t squinting anymore and was too busy licking Percy’s face while Percy laughed and shoved him back. Logan was over three times Percy’s size, but the kid had never been scared of him. They were buddies.

I bent down and called him over, examining his face when he plopped in front of me. The redness was gone, and he was no longer complaining or trying to scratch it. I wondered if maybe the paint fumes had irritated it.

“Not sure I need to. He seems okay, all things considered. I’m gonna wash him off and check him out myself first. I’ll keep an eye on it. If I can avoid another damn bill, I will.”

Chief Elkhart nodded and turned to face the side of the barn. I did the same. My father couldn’t see this. He’d be horrified. It was bad enough it rankled me to the core, but the old man might have a heart attack if he got too stirred up.

While we puzzled the mess, the crunching sound of tires on gravel sounded from the other side of the barn. The vehicle wasn’t coming up by way of the service road but from the main house. I frowned at Windsor, who had an ear cocked and a brow raised.

“Your guy comin’ back?”

“Didn’t expect him to.”

Checking on Percy and Logan, deducing they were fine together, I angled toward the corner of the barn, curious who was driving up from the house. A knot in my gut formed, worried it would be Dad. If Chrissy had told him what Matthew saw, there would be no holding him back.

Windsor and I stopped out front. A familiar silver BMW reflected the sunlight from a few hundred yards away as it approached. It might have been almost a month, and those tinted windows might have disguised the driver, but I didn’t need to see who was behind the wheel to know who’d arrived.

“Goddammit.”

Could my day get any worse?

Chapter Eleven

Lachlan

“Excellent. I’ll confirm that with our accountant and get back to you this afternoon. We can definitely move to stage two before next week. Take care.” I hung up my desk phone and added a few notes on my tablet. The Wickerman account was rolling at a steady pace forward, and it was working out better than we’d planned.

If Dad hadn’t been giving me the cold shoulder for the last three and a half straight weeks since I’d gotten home from Jasper, I’d have taken the good news to him. As it stood, I communicated with him through emails only, detailing my steps forward. In return, I got nothing but criticism and insults. It took the wind out of my sails, but like Christian had said, it wouldn’t last. He couldn’t stay angry forever.

Pleased with my accomplishments, I reached for my phone and tapped Christian’s extension. If there was anyone who would share in my joy, it would be him.

“Who’s the contractor for Berkshire?” Christian asked when he picked up.

“Farrell Brothers, I believe. Want me to look it up?”

“No. I’ll check. What’s up?”

“Wickermans signed. We’re looking at a five-million-dollar country club on the river, north of Sherwood Park.”

“Nice. They held out forever on that. I didn’t think they were going to give.”

“Neither did I. I’ve never danced with words like I did with that cranky bastard. Talk about making me sweat.”

“Drinks tonight? We should go to the Escalades, tap into their aged whiskey as a treat. I’ll buy.”

“You speak my language.”

My secretary’s line lit up, drawing my attention. “Gotta run. I’ll message you later.”

“Yup.” There was a click, and Christian was gone.

I tapped the glowing red button on my display. “Yeah, Silvia, what’s up?”

“Mr. Montgomery wants

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