Key To Her Heart Ch. 16
Keywords: Her, Key, Ch., To, 16, Heart,
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"I'm so sorry this has taken so long to get to you. I've been ill and haven't been able to write. Something about this chapter hasn't been easy to get out either.
Anyway, thank you as always for all the well wishes, compliments and constructive criticism. I so enjoy hearing from everyone.
Enjoy,
Danielle"
**~*~**
Brett Hunter sat behind Dillon's desk, his hands linked behind his head, his chair kicked back, surveying the room. His cousin had it good. Though it hadn't always been like this. He could remember Dillon scraping and saving every penny when he first got started, sending what he could to help out his brother with his own beginning business and taking care of a myriad of Hunter relatives who needed him.
He had been one of those relatives. Him and his brother, Jeremy, had depended on Dillon when their mother had disappeared. Dillon had found them a home with friends of his who had taken two scared young boys in and raised them with a loving and strict hand. They could have been put into "the system". Then who knows what might have happened. Now Brett had a job he loved, a nice place to live and food on his table. Jeremy was in his second year of law school and doing fantastic.
He sat up, staring at the package marked urgent on Dillon's desk. Monica had brought that and a whole stack of papers that needed going through and signed in to him just moments earlier, knocking his feet off the desk with a familiar hand.
"Who would send my cousin a couriered package?" He reached for it, seeing no return address and of course, no postmark. It could have come from across the street or across the country for all he knew, but it was marked urgent. "Well, Dillon said that I should take care of his baby."
"Brett Hunter!" Monica shouted down the long hallway. "I need those papers signed ASAP. If you don't care whether you get paid or not, the rest of us do!"
"Yeah, yeah," he shouted back, sifting the package back to the corner of the desk and opening the thick folder in front of him.
Two hours later saw him signing the last form, flipping it onto the stack with a sigh of relief. He rubbed his temples, massaging away the headache that always seemed to hit him whenever he was inundated with paperwork like this. Hitting the switch on the phone, he called to Monica. "Mrs. Sumner, I've signed and dated the papers you brought me. If you could make sure they get to the proper place, I'd appreciate it," he said, using his sexiest voice.
"You're so full of shit," Monica said from the doorway a few seconds later.
"Yeah, but you love me anyway," he smirked, picking up the file folder and handing it to her.
"You kept them in order this time, didn't you?" she asked, a warning in her voice that matched the glare in her eyes.
"Yes boss, I did." He smiled, winking at her. "You know last time was an accident, Monica. Could I help it if that brunette got a little hot under the collar and came on to me?"
"Oh and I'm to believe that she swept all those papers off the desk, forced you down on it and took advantage of your helpless self?" She gazed at his tall, toned and tasty body. "Nope, that don't fly and I'm not even a PI."
"But you are the best bullshit detector that this agency has, Monica," Brett said quickly.
"Oh, don't even try any of those smarmy sweet talking tricks on me, Brett Matthew Hunter. I know your game." She glanced down at the file, trying to hide the smile on her face. He could do it every time and he knew it. "By the way, your client is here. I told her you were wrapped up in meetings but she insisted she would stay and wait."
"Anna's here?"
Monica's eyes shot up as she heard the tone of his voice. There was a note there that she'd never heard before when it came to Brett. He sounded...nervous.
"Is there something going on between the two of you?"
Brett glanced up and then away. How the hell did he know what was going on? They'd been working the case, working together and then suddenly, she'd upped and disappeared on him. He'd tried calling, he'd tried going to her place. He'd tried everything he could think of until he'd gotten a phone call from her stating that he was fired.
"No," he stated decisively. "There's nothing going on. She's not even my client anymore. She fired me."
"She sure looks like something's going on. She jumps every time someone even sneezes. Do you want me to send her to your office?"
"No, send her in here," Brett said, his eyes meeting Monica's.
"Yes sir," she said a second later, catching exactly what he wanted her to do.
Brett straightened his tie, sitting up in the big chair and grabbing a file off his cousin's pile of work. He opened it, wishing for once that he wore glasses so that he could have that barrier between the two of them. He heard the knock on the door and called a distracted "come in".
Monica opened the door, seeing Brett hunched over the desk, seemingly absorbed in a file, a legal notepad next to him half filled with Dillon's handwriting. "Nice set up," she thought, hiding her smile behind a professional mien. "Sir, Miss Castillo to see you."
"Send her in," he said, though he never looked up from his file. He heard the door close and felt her move towards him. It seemed suddenly as if the room was too small with the two of them in it. "Have a seat," he said, lifting his head...
And he forgot about anything else. She stood before him, a trembling wreck, her face bruised, her hand shoddily bandaged. "Anna! What happened?" He got up and came around the desk toward her, reaching out to her.
His hands dropped when he saw the guarded look in her eyes and the way she seemed to shy away from him. "I won't hurt you, Anna. I want to help you. Who did this to you?"
"No one," she said, but he knew she was lying. "I...I had an accident. I...It was my own fault, I was clumsy."
"Sit down," he urged, grabbing hold of the corner of the desk to stop himself from reaching for her again.
"No, I...I can't. I just thought you deserved better than a phone call."
She was shaking, he could see it and it frustrated the hell out of him. "Anna, you don't owe me a thing. If you don't want me to help you find your sister, that's your prerogative. But if someone is threatening you, or hurting you, I can help."
"It's nothing like that," she insisted, but she refused to look at him.
"You're lying."
"N...No, I'm not, honestly. I just wanted to tell you in person that I've decided to stop looking for her."
Brett took her unbandaged hand, feeling her try to pull away. He refused to let go of her, instead leading her over to the couch against the wall. "Why don't you sit, you look like you're about to fall down."
"I'm fine. I don't have time to stay," she said, jerking her hand away from him. "I...I have another appointment downtown." She turned and moved away from him, heading to the door. "Th...Thank you," she managed to say just before she walked out the door.
"Shit!" Brett growled. His hand swept out and he hit the box on the corner of the desk, knocking it to the floor. A rattling and hissing noise came from inside, the sound undeniable.
"Shit," Brett said again, though this time he cautiously slid towards the box, carefully picking it up and setting it back on the desk. He picked up the phone. "Monica, who sent the package that was couriered here this morning?"
"Hang on," she said, and Brett could hear her flipping through the pages of her log book. "It was a Bast Productions. Why?"
"Because the box has a rattlesnake in it," he said, hearing her chuckle and then it abruptly stop.
"You aren't kidding, are you?"
"No. Get Animal Control on the phone. Then, get a hold of Dillon; I think he should know someone wants to kill him."
* * *
Dillon stared down at the pad of paper that held the latest message that their father had sent them from the grave. ""Follow the trail of the people of Mexica. It will lead you to what you seek the most.""
"Mexica not Mexico?" Hunt asked, coming to stand behind Dillon. "Are you sure that's not a misspelling?"
"No, I spelled it exactly as it was on the code page," Rylie said, finding the word and checking it once more. "See—Mexica."
Angel got up, going into Hunt's office and opening his laptop. Going into a search engine, she put in the word Mexica.
"Aztecs," she called excitedly. "Mexica is what they called themselves. There are two distinct branches here and I'm not even going to try to pronounce the names."
"So...we're headed to Mexico?" Rylie asked.
* * *
Sebastian Antonelli pulled on the new jacket his valet held out to him, smoothing out the material and picking a non existent piece of fluff from the sleeve. "Nice fit," he murmured.
"Yes sir, excellent job, shall I give your congratulations to the tailor?"
"Oh yes, please do. Now, have the papers I requested arrived yet?"
"No sir, but if you would like, I can call and find out what's taking them so long." At Sebastian's nod, he bowed quickly, backing from the room and walking out.
Sebastian walked through the room, his hand lightly touching his possessions, retrieved from the government by his own people. Everything of value had been returned to him, everything but the portrait of Rosalyn and his daughter, Angelina.
It was fine. He walked to the window, staring out at the city of San Antonio and the beautiful view of the Riverwalk. Smiling smugly, he lifted the window, allowing the heat and sound of the city to flood the room. It was fine; Angel and Hope would be with him soon.
It was what he deserved, what he'd been waiting for. He'd hoped that Angel and Aaron would fall in love, that they would conceive for him a grandchild that he could raise himself. He'd hoped for a grandson, but Hope would be more than welcome. She would learn to run his businesses, she would stand at his side and then take over for him when he was ready to retire.
They would move to France, to a small chateau that he owned just outside of Paris. He would take Hope, and Angel if she wished, show them the finer things in life, the beauty of the old cities of Europe, the history and culture.
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Keywords: Her, Key, Ch., To, 16, Heart,