Page 17 of Fight Or Flight

The homeless guy.

He was sitting in the waiting room wearing a dark-grey jacket over a pale-blue dress shirt. His way-too-long hair was falling forward into his eyes as he typed away on a phone, and he had a leather bag on the floor at his feet.

“You.”

His head snapped up from the screen of his phone, and his deep-blue eyes stared at her through round, wire-rimmed glasses. “Uh . . . hi. Natalie. Did you find the urn?”

She was frosted over, ready for another fight, but despite her best efforts, she thawed a little. He had gone back for the urn, after all, and left it on the front porch for her.

“Yes,” she said, then added, “thank you.”

She told herself to let it go and forget about him, the snakes, and the woods. No point in holding a grudge when she had a cab waiting to whisk her away.

He stood and came closer, and Natalie tipped her head up to keep eye contact with him. She hadn’t realized how tall he was in the woods. Or how noteworthy his eyes were. She’d been too busy running for her life.

He slid his phone into his pocket and extended a hand toward Chelsea. “I’m Ethan.”

“Chelsea Davenport. Did you get a call last night, too?”

“Yes.”

“Welcome,” came a gravelly voice from down the hall.

All three of them turned at once to find an older man with grey hair in a baggy suit coming down the hall.

“I’m Reginald Speeler. Thank you all for coming. Please, follow me to the conference room.”

Ethan stepped aside to allow her and Chelsea to go through, but she stood where she was. “Sorry, I can’t stay. I have a cab waiting.”

Mr. Speeler clasped his hands together in front of him. “Ms. Monroe, this will take a while. Why don’t you send him off.”

“It’s Alvarez, and no. I have a flight at three.”

“Reschedule,” he said in a cold voice, all trace of politeness gone. “We have a rather large will to get through.”

Natalie stared at him. “Will?”

“Yes. This way.”

Speeler took off down the hall. Ethan and Chelsea followed behind. Natalie stood there for a few minutes before Speeler beckoned her. “Ms. Alvarez, join us.”

There was no way she was calling off her cab. Or rescheduling her flight. It would take a hurricane to keep her on land in Mapleton. But she couldn’t very well turn and flee.

He would find her.

She knew he would.

Resigned, she followed the group down the hall, then turned into a large conference room where Ethan and Chelsea were sitting. Speeler pointed to a chair across from them, issuing her a silent command to sit. She figured it would be quicker to comply than fight, so she sat.

“Now, then, Ms. Alvarez, did you follow the instructions I sent for the ashes?”

Natalie chanced a look at Ethan. The corners of his mouth turned up in a pleasant way, barely visible through the beard covering his face. “Yes.”

“Excellent. Elizabeth had said she wanted to be resting peacefully before I read the will.”

Natalie cocked her head to the side. “Why?”

He ignored her. “Let’s start with Dr. Pierce.”

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