She laughed and held out the key to the building. “You deserved it.”
He didn’t bother to answer that. He grabbed the key, got out of the car and headed off to the restaurant. He knew exactly where he’d left his wallet. He remembered dropping it on top of the chest of drawers in his bedroom. But when he got there, there was no wallet in sight. Ryder gave a hiss of annoyance. Just what he needed – something to hold them up when they were in a huge hurry.
Moving quickly, he glanced around the bedroom then went to lift up the baseball cap he’d left on the chair, the book on the nightstand and the T-shirt he'd dropped on top of the bed. Nothing. He dropped to his knees and checked under the bed. Still nothing.
Growing even more annoyed, he walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway. When he threw open the bathroom door there it was, black and bulky and stuffed with papers. His wallet was sitting comfortably on top of the counter by the sink with not a care in the world. Ryder grabbed it up and stuffed it into his back pocket. “Stupid wallet,” he mumbled. “You just cost me a good four or five minutes.”
He pulled the bathroom door shut and loped toward the stairs. He went down the steps two at a time and within seconds was crossing the wide dining room and heading toward the front door.
It was when he was reaching for the knob that he heard it. Something that made him freeze. It was a man’s voice, a voice that he did not recognize.
“Are you ready to be sensible?” the man said, his tone irritated and impatient. “You don’t belong in this godforsaken place. You belong with me. Why are you fighting this?”
Ryder had heard enough. There was only one man who would be asking Blake a question like that. It had to be that Jerome guy she’d told him about. He swung the door open and stepped out onto the porch, eyes narrowed as his gaze zoned in on the target of his disgust and ire.
Immediately, two pairs of eyes swung in his direction, Blake’s flashing dark ones and another set, pale blue and cold and hard.
“Who the hell is that?” the man asked as he swung away from where Blake stood by the Mercedes Benz. He looked like he’d been just about to reach for her but Ryder’s sudden appearance put a stop to that.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Ryder said. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get off this property right now.”
The man’s scowl darkened and he turned to face Ryder, his hands clenched at his sides. “Who the devil do you think you are, talking to me like that?”
“The name’s Ryder. Ryder Kent. And you are?” Ryder didn’t need any introductions to know who the man was. He just wanted to get him talking, distract him enough so he could move in closer.
Jerome’s frown deepened. “Ryder Kent? I know that name…” And then his eyes widened. “The Ryder Kent? The owner of the biggest dairy brand in North America? You’re that Ryder Kent?”
“The same.” Ryder’s response was brusque. He gave short shrift to Slater’s sudden change of tone. The man was easily impressed by money, that much was obvious. But that made him sink even lower in Ryder’s eyes. He crossed the porch and went down the steps then walked right up to the man who was staring up at him. Slater wasn’t a big man. He actually looked smaller than Blake. Still, there was a shifty look in his eyes that told Ryder he was not to be trusted. “I’ve answered your question,” he said. “Now it’s time for you to answer mine. What are you doing on Blake’s property when she clearly doesn’t want you here?”
“I…” Slater swallowed and glanced over at Blake who was staring at Ryder, a look of surprised confusion on her face. “It’s okay that I’m here. Right, Blake?”
She blinked and then she turned to fix a caustic glare on the man. “No, it’s not okay. I want you gone.”
“You heard the lady.” Ryder took a step closer to Slater and the man took a matching step back. “I suggest you get back in your car and leave.” When the man hesitated Ryder's scowl darkened and he folded his arms across his chest. “You know who I am,” he said, his voice soft and menacing, “and you know I have the power to make your life very miserable. Don’t make me go there.”
“N…no, Mr. Kent. I’m…leaving.” He backed away and when he was at a safe distance he turned and hurried off to his hunter-green Buick. He glanced back only once and it was to throw a furious glare at Blake. He didn’t stop, though, not until he’d climbed into his car and started the engine and then turned the car with a screech of tires, slammed on the gas and tore out of the yard, the car kicking up a cloud of dust as he went.
It was only when the car had disappeared down the road that Blake walked over to where Ryder stood, still fuming.
“What was that all about?” she asked. “That thing about a dairy business or brand or something like that?”
His eyes still glued on the road, Ryder shook his head. “We’ll talk about that later. We’ve got a heck of a journey ahead of us and that just cost us another ten minutes.” He lifted his chin toward the SUV. “Let’s get out of here.”
***
“Name?”
“Blake Beaumont.”
“Address?”
“Do you want my current residence or my permanent address?”
The bristle-haired, blue-shirted officer gave her a look that told her it didn’t matter a hoot to him. “I’ll give you my address in Pequoia,” she said. “That way you can find me easier.”
He shrugged then wrote down the address as she gave it to him. “Phone number?” Pen poised above the paper, he waited for her to give him the information so he could complete the form.
“I don’t have one. At least, not one that will work when I get back home.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We don’t have phone service in Pequoia but we will soon. The phone company is setting up the poles as we speak."
The man gave a grunt like he didn’t quite believe her but he completed the preliminaries then carefully took her statement, a process that took the better part of an hour. When it was finally over Blake sighed, exhausted from having to relive the ordeal, if even just on paper.
She was glad she had Ryder with her. Through it all he never left her side and when it was over and they were walking back to the car he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. It was what she needed right then, to draw from his strength. It was the best thing he could have done and she was grateful.