Beck was making it very easy for English and I to work together. It almost seemed he was pushing us closer. He put us on projects that seemed odd for both of us.
“Dad, why do you need me to go with Tristian on this?” English asked. “I have a lot of editing to do.”
“Because I need your perspective.” He walked out and didn’t give either of us another opportunity to ask questions. We looked at each other and shrugged.
“Let’s go,” I said. It was for a shoot downtown on a new building that had just been completed. The investment broker wanted a photoshoot for an upcoming feature in one of the real estate magazines. It would help sell office space. This was a minor job for Beck that he’d passed down to me. I enjoyed this type of photography, but was more interested in getting away from metro shoots and on to other things.
On the way over, English said, “Sorry Dad made me tag along. My perspective isn’t going to help much. You’re the experienced one, not me.”
“I disagree. You’re great when it comes to lighting and angles. I’ll shoot and then show you what I have. We can sort of edit along the way.”
“You mean get different shots to make the editing easier,” she said. I laughed. “Thanks for being so easy to work with on this.”
The building was incredible. Modern architecture could be stark and sometimes too severe for my taste, but this building, even though it was glass and steel, had added elements of nature. They had somehow woven into the glass a vine of green, giving the appearance of green leaves resembling ivy. It twisted within and looked ethereal. The pictures brought the building to life and the building gave the downtown a spark of futuristic modernity that didn’t seem outlandish or gaudy in any way.
The job took the rest of the day and we were riding back to the office when I said, “I’m sorry about Stuart paying you another visit.”
“Dad told you?”
“He did. I was shocked to hear that idiot did something so stupid after going to jail.”
“Honestly, I’m glad he did.”
My voice carried a warning tone. “English, he could’ve hurt you.”
“I know. But I’m fine. See?” She spread her arms wide.
“That’s not the point. The point is—”
“Tristian, please don’t lecture me.”
Huffing, I said, “I’m not. I’m concerned for your safety.”
“Understood. And thank you.”
“That’s it?”
“What else can I say?”
I turned to look at her.
“Hey, fella, eyes on the road, please.”
I turned back to driving, as I should’ve, and said, “Just be careful.”
“I swear I am. I can’t hide in the house all day. Do you have any suggestions?”
She had me there. And I didn’t know what to tell her short of getting her a bodyguard.
“At least he’s back behind bars again.”
“Being dumb enough to blow the order paid off.”
I grabbed her hand in an impulsive gesture. “Listen, maybe they’ll keep him in there for a while, but I don’t trust his family so don’t let your guard down.”
She turned her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze.
“So, when will you be up for our dinner date?” I asked.
“Anytime, since my grapes are gone. Easton keeps asking if I’m going to get new ones.”
“That child comes up with some doozies, doesn’t she? What about Friday?”
“That’s good. It gives me time to find a babysitter for Easton.”
After we parted ways, I kept thinking about her and that crazy prick who wouldn’t leave her alone. Maybe asking her to marry me just to protect her and Easton wasn’t such a bad idea.
As I was driving home, the phone rang. It was Beck.
“Hey, we got some great photos.”
“Figured the two of you would. How was English?”
“She’s fine. Why?”
“Oh, I just wondered if she said anything.”
“About what?”
“Nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
That was strange. Why would Beck call and ask me that without elaborating? Maybe I should call and check with English. Before I could, my phone rang again. It was an unknown number, so I didn’t answer. They left a voicemail, so I checked it.
“Mr. Baines, I would suggest you stay away from English Bridges. She is not your concern.”
That pissed me off. I had an idea who it was and why they would leave that message.
I called one of the corporate attorneys.
“Mr. Baines, what can I do for you?”
“I just received a cryptic voicemail and was wondering if there was any way to track the sender?”
“That doesn’t fall under my area of expertise, but the security team can help. Are you anywhere near the offices?”
“I’m on the way. I can be there in thirty.”
“I’ll meet you in the lobby with the head of security. We’ll see what we can do.”
I arrived to find the two men waiting for me. We went to the security department and I played the message. They took my phone and downloaded the message and phone number. But the only thing they came up with was it came from an untraceable burner phone.
“Great. Thanks anyway.”
“Mr. Baines, if you get a call like this again, the only way to pursue it is to keep the caller active until we locate him.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Pretty sure he’s smarter than that.”
“Just be careful, sir,” the security team member said.
“I will and I’m not worried for me. It’s English Bridges who they’re after.”
“Would you like us to keep an eye out on her?” he asked.
She’d go through the roof if she found out about it. “Let me think on it.”
“Just let us know.”
“Thank you, gentlemen.” The more I thought about her, the more I worried. What did they want from her and why? The only thing that came to mind was Easton, but she was only a kid. Was she worth that much to them? Surely their plans didn’t include harming her. Then again, Stuart’s behavior was so erratic, it wasn’t wise to take any chances.
I grabbed my phone and called Beck.
“Hey, is there a problem?”
“I was just thinking, Beck. You don’t think Stuart or his family want to harm Easton, do you?”
“No. I think they want her to make Stuart look like the doting father. Maybe to improve his reputation.”
I slumped in relief. “Thank God. For a moment there, I—”
“You what?”
“I was on the border of freaking out.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
I hesitated and decided not to mention the phone call. No use getting Beck worried over nothing. “No, I was overthinking.”
“I see. I do worry about the two of them though. After what Stuart pulled, I can’t help it,” Beck admitted.
“I get it. I worry too.”
“That’s good.”
“What?” He was saying the strangest things.
“I mean, at least we’re on the same page,” he stammered out.