When the Heart Lies - By Christina North Page 0,81

lure Angela into his arms? He was delusional. She gave them a coy smile. “Do you want more coffee?” The pot of drug-tainted coffee was nearly gone.

“Yeah, I’ll take another cup,” Remy said through sleepy, hung-over eyes.

“I’ll take a little, too, and put some whiskey in it, I’m celebrating.” Skewing his head with a smug look, he lifted his cup in affirmation.

“I second that,” Remy said.

Feeling extremely bold, she emptied the remaining coffee into their mugs. They voiced no complaints about the flavor; she’d worried they might find it bitter from the pills. The thought of Wayde even thinking he was related to Max made her ill. The empty pot gave her courage, and she became brave enough to taunt him back. “I hate to ruin your family tree, but Max isn’t a part of it. He has no hillbilly in him.”

Wayde let out a sinister growl and looked away.

“He’s dead now anyway, we can just pretend he never existed,” Remy said.

The decanter slipped from her trembling hand. She watched it drop to the floor. Did it bounce once or twice before it finally burst into a million tiny shards of glass? Wayde’s laughter broke her trance. Her blood churned thick with anger and a bloodlust she’d never felt before. It was what she needed to carry out her alternate plan—the one she’d hoped she’d never resort to using. Max being dead changed everything. In shock, she didn’t scream or cry, but went on auto pilot, calculating what her next moves would be.

“So, did you ever decide how you’re going to kill me?” Wayde harrumphed with gusto and slapped Remy’s arm.

Appearing unmoved by the news of Max’s death, she tapped her thumb against the top of the carafe handle she had bent and picked up without thinking. “Yes, your death is imminent.”

He torqued his head mockingly. “What kind of harebrained scheme did ya come up with?”

She tossed the carafe handle back to the floor, into the pile of glass. What difference did the mess make? “Let’s talk about something else, Wayde. I’m sure there are many more important things to discuss than your death.”

“I get it now. You’re going to squawk me to death.” His smile twisted, and the roar of Remy’s laughter cropped up, mingling with his own.

Her gaze was unflinching. “That’s just phase one.”

Chapter 18

Jackson and Jim had been on the road for at least an hour before Olivia began to blow up Jackson’s cell phone with calls. He didn’t answer. She would’ve told him to wait for instruction, and she certainly wouldn’t have approved of Jim going along. He called Xavier to let him know what was happening and asked him to field the information to Olivia. He would get to Kinsley quicker without the bureaucracy of the department. Timing remained critical. From previous experience, he knew that money handed over didn’t always produce the desired outcome.

Jim remained the perfect tagalong: quiet and focused on getting them to their destination.

“Jim, we need to get to the cabin as quickly as we can. Once we get off the interstate, you should take over the driving. You’re familiar with the roads and can travel them faster. I have some water in the cooler in back. We can stop up here at this gas station if you want something, or you need to take a leak. I need to check voicemail before we get to the cabin.” He had no doubt Olivia wanted to string him up by now.

“Yeah, I can drive. Whatever I can do to help.” Jim’s entire face tensed as he fretfully slid his hand up and down his leg. “I wish I’d asked if she was in some kind of trouble with Wayde. Those two are the kind you guys you try to avoid, if you get what I mean.”

Jackson gave him an understanding nod, imagining guys like Jim spent their whole lives pussyfooting around guys like Wayde and Remy.

“I sure hope she’s okay, and they end up where they belong.” Not saying anything else, Jim got out of the truck, slammed the door, and headed for the restroom.

Jackson dialed his voicemail while he waited for Jim to return. Ten calls, all from Olivia. He listened to the first message. “What the hell, Jackson, pick up your God damn phone. You’re giving me messages through Xavier now? This is so like you to go off after her half-cocked. Why don’t you let me do my job?”

She must have been at her desk when she phoned because