3. The File

Chapter 3

The File

HUNTER

" T he Caller brothers have been dealt with," Lars announces.

I study the body hanging from a rope around his wrists, his face bloody.

"And what about Isaiah?"

"Dead," Parker adds. "There were torture marks on him, so we know they grilled him for information."

When neither of them adds anything further, I lift a brow. "Where is he?"

"They shot him in the alley behind the club. We reviewed the security footage, and it seems that one of the bartenders saw the body."

I blink in mild surprise. "The police weren't called?"

"Well, she opened the door, and she didn't step outside when she saw the body. The new cameras we installed in the kitchen last week show her locking the door and kicking the key under the counter."

Amusement flickers in my chest upon hearing that.

"Who was it?"

I already have a feeling that I know who it is, but when the two men exchange a look, my answer is confirmed.

"The bartender we tracked down today at the college."

My memory goes back to the young woman who looked at me with such reckless eyes, even as she had quaked in her shoes. She was like a hissing kitten, afraid for her life but baring her fangs at me.

"Did she give any clarity on why she hasn't been back at work?"

"Not really. I think it surprised her that she still has a job," Parker replies.

I'm not typically a man who is easily intrigued by a woman or by anyone, but the way she rushed forward to defend her coworker, just seconds away from me slitting the throats of those two men, has left a lasting impression in my mind.

"Are we sure that the Caller brothers killed Isaiah?" I move back to the topic at hand, gesturing towards one of my bodyguards to cut down the body.

Parker nods. "We found his wallet on one of them. We also went to his clinic. It was trashed. Looked like a break-in."

"Isaiah didn't keep my records on hand, which is probably what they went looking for," I say slowly. "But murdering him in my backyard is a challenge being thrown at me. The Blue Whiskey has to remain neutral territory. Find out who hired those two. This wasn't just a random act of violence on their part."

I watch Lars and Parker leave and then look at the bodyguard. "Dispose of this one and send word to Mr. Romero that his daughter got her justice."

He nods, and I go to my office, contemplating this new turn of events. Isaiah was my personal physician. To be kidnapped, tortured, and killed on my turf is highly disrespectful and bold. Somebody is trying to make a statement, but who would be stupid enough to go against me?"

I glance at the wall clock.

It's close to midnight.

I wonder if that little bartender returned to work.

There's a knock on my door.

"Come in," I call out.

It's Steve, the bitch ass manager I hired a little less than a year ago.

"Well?" I study him.

Steve looks ready to piss himself. "Megan called to let me know she's coming in tonight."

"I see."

When he hesitates, I give him a cool look. "If you have something to say, spit it out."

Steve is sweating like a pig at this point. "She's a real good worker. All the customers like her, and she knows how to keep her head down. Also, she's in college right now and –"

Irritation flares in me. "I didn't call her back to work to flay her alive, but since you're in such a chatty mood today, tell me about her."

I don't offer him a seat.

It amuses me to see him shake in his shoes.

I've never really liked Steve. He has this slimy feel to him, but the place has been running smoothly, so I can sacrifice my personal feelings.

"She, uh - She's been here for six months now. It was a rough start, but she figured things out pretty quickly. She always opts for the night shift because it pays well."

Steve is talking so quickly that his words are stumbling over each other.

"Why'd you fire her?"

He stares confused at me for a moment. "I didn't fire her, but I suppose I should have?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"I can give you her employee file to look over, sir, but she's a good worker."

"You already said that."

"Yeah," Steve stammers and his face turns a shade of clammy grey. "She's kind of indispensable."

I arch a brow in a mild threat. "Since when do you decide whether someone is indispensable or not?"

If he throws up on my carpet, I'm going to wipe it with his face.

"No, no. I meant... I wasn't trying to..."

"Give me her file and get out," I tell him, beginning to get annoyed with the fearful look on his face.

Steve is quick to obey, and I lounge in my chair, looking through the brave little Megan Taylor's file.

Her eyes have a captivating look to them. They are deep set, framed by long black lashes, and are so mesmerizing that one could be hypnotized by them. But they have a guarded look to them as well, and while she's smiling in her resume photo, the smile doesn't reach those unforgettable eyes.

"I wonder what you had to survive," I murmur to myself. I've seen that look in people's eyes before.

In all my thirty-five years, I've never had a woman challenge me like this. It was almost as if she was daring me to kill her and yet terrified I would do so. I purposefully don't interact with the staff except for management, so I've never met her before. I doubt I would have forgotten her face if I had.

Entertaining little thing, I muse to myself as I go through her cover letter.

"Let's see whether you really do come back to work today."

I'll be waiting.