Page 89 of Forged in Peril

“I couldn’t get ahold of her,” he admitted. “She’s at that database thing in Austin, remember?”

Gabe let out a puff of breath and rested his forehead in his hands for several long seconds.

Cameron twisted his fingers into the hem of his t-shirt, trying to resist the urge to raise his voice. They were wasting precious time, and arguing with Gabe was only going to waste more of it.

“You need to get a grip, bro,” Gabe said finally. “Send another guard down there to talk to them and peek at the van, if it makes you feel better. I think that’s taking more than enough caution.”

“No. It could put the guard in danger,” Cam said firmly.

“What are you thinking is in this truck,” Gabe said, letting out a chuckle. “A bomb?”

“I have no idea,” he snapped. “But it feels off, and I trust my instincts. We’re a private security company with plenty of enemies. We’re used to crazy things happening. Is a possible bomb threat at our back door really so far-fetched?”

“It’s far-fetched because the only reason you’re acting like this is thanks to Bristol’s paranoia,” Gabe said. “I get that she really is being targeted, and I don’t blame her for being scared, but suspecting Jaclyn and now our office supplier without evidence is totally out of line.”

“That phone call she overheard was weird,” Cameron said, trying to keep his voice level. “Maybe we shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss–”

Gabriel smacked the palm of his hand against his desk, startling him into silence.

“If you want to let this girl stomp all over your heart again, that’s your business. But we’re not losing a great lawyer and risking our partnership with a long-term vendor because of Bristol’s traumatized imagination. Tell the guards downstairs to check the truck, and then let them in if it’s clear. I’ve had enough of this.”

Cameron sucked in a breath as he got to his feet. His hands were shaking as he leaned on the desk, his face barely a foot away from Gabe’s own.

“No. We’re not letting them in here. Not without the SAPD bomb squad checking them out.”

Gabe pulled back as though he’d been slapped, and in that moment, Cam was struck by just how much he reminded him of their father, in both good ways and bad.

“Cameron,” Gabe said, his voice dangerously low. “I don’t say this often, but I’m the boss, and this is my decision. Call Bobby now, or I will.”

Cam stared at his brother and set his jaw, taking only a moment to make up his mind.

When Gabe was in stubborn mode like this, any chance of him cooperating was already long gone.

“Please,” he begged, “give me another thirty minutes to look into things. If I don’t find more evidence, I’ll call them. I promise.”

Gabe glanced at his watch.

“You get fifteen.”

Without another word, Cam rushed out of the office, breaking into a run as he reached the long expanse of hallways that crisscrossed the fifth floor.

He passed several people in their offices, ignoring their stares. There was no time to explain.

Gabe was right. There wasn’t a lot of evidence.

But his intuition had rarely led him astray, and right now, every signal he’d honed over the years in this business was blaring at full volume.

If only he’d trusted Bristol’s intuition as much as his own, he would have had a lot more than fifteen minutes to figure this puzzle out.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

CAMERON

Cameron made his way into the stairwell once again, glad that he was in good shape.

Waiting for the elevator was out of the question.

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