Page 8 of Unforeseen Mate

The concierge chuckled again. “Leave it to me. I’ll have one of our cars take you to the train station.”

Fallon braided her hair in a loose fisherman’s braid and dressed in a variation of her outfit from the day before. This time it was leggings and hiking boots with another warm sweater. She would take a rainproof jacket with her as well. On the way down to the lobby, her phone notified her that her train ticket had been sent electronically. She had to hand it to Spenser—his efficiency knew no bounds. He met her at the elevator and escorted her to the car and driver, promising there would be a car and driver waiting in Wychall Orchard and that a room had been arranged.

“Your wife is a lucky woman, Spenser,” said Fallon.

“I am the one who is lucky that for reasons still unknown to me, my beautiful Saoirse fell in love with me.”

She smiled, and as soon as Spenser had closed the vehicle’s door, they headed out into the notorious London traffic. She boarded the train without a hitch and in plenty of time. The promised car and driver were waiting for her at the station. Thedriver remained behind the wheel as she opened the car door and got in the back. The man driving looked a little dodgy—in fact, he reminded her of one of the villains from a vintage cartoon set in London. He was polite enough, but he had a dour expression and kept his conversation to a minimum.

As they drove along the scenic route in the setting sun, Fallon said, “It’s very pretty out here. Do you know the area well?”

“Well enough.”

“Is it far?”

“Not much longer.”

The unspoken part was for her to shut up and let him drive. Fallon was fine with that. She didn’t need to be friends with everybody. They turned down an unmarked road. Fallon began to wonder if she hadn’t made a mistake in not asking Spenser for a picture of the driver who would be taking her to Beer.

“Are you sure this is the way to Beer?”

“It’s the way to get where you’re going.”

All of the small things that had been bothering her about this car ride now came to a head as major alarms went off in her brain.

“I want you to turn this car around and take me back to the train. I’ve changed my mind.”

Instead of an answer, the electronic door locks clicked into place, and Fallon suddenly realized there was no way to unlock or reach them from the back seat.

“I demand that you return me to the train,” said Fallon in a voice that sounded far stronger and steadier than she was feeling.

“Demand all you want, Dr. Kent.”

Danger! Danger! Danger!She’d felt as if there was something a little off from almost the beginning of the ride, and now the doors had locked with no way for her to unlock them.

The car rolled up to what appeared to be an abandoned house with a private jetty. When it stopped, the driver got out and tried to open the door. Fallon grabbed the handle and pulled back with all her might. She was so focused on the driver, she failed to notice the man approaching the car from the other side.

Her first indication that she was in even more danger than she’d begun to believe was the sound of the car door on the other side of the vehicle opening. There was a rush of wind blowing from off the sea as a meaty hand grabbed her braid and hauled her backwards, so that she landed on her butt with a thud on the shingled beach.

“Get up.” She recognized Squire’s voice. He kicked her buttocks. “I said get up, bitch.”

“Actually, so far, you’ve said nothing of the sort, but I’m getting up.” She did so, wiping the seat of her leggings off. Turning to face him, she continued, “Why is it I am not surprised you’re a misogynist goon?” she said, grabbing the door and getting to her feet.

The click of a pistol was not anything she wanted to hear, nor was the sight of one being leveled at her in the waning light anything she wanted to see.

Fallon drew herself up to try and be as imposing as possible. It was one of those rare times she was grateful not to be some petite waif. “This is kidnapping. There are people expecting me back in London.”

“They can expect all they want. Horace? Dispose of the body and the car.”

“Body?” Fallon squeaked, feeling like she was going to puke.

Focus on the card reading saying that you will get through whatever is coming.

“Yeah, the driver wasn’t willing to take some money and go on his way, reporting the car stolen in a couple of hours. Something about the Savoy trusting him. So instead, tonighthe’ll begin his eternal sleep with the fishes. Horace, get out of here. You…” Squire said, pointing the gun at her and then indicating the pier where she could see a boat tied up, “…and me are going to take a little boat ride where you’ll get to meet my employer.”

“I think I’d prefer just to go back to London… or to Boston if you prefer. Unlike the driver, I can be most cooperative, keep my mouth shut, and never bother you and yours again. I’ll even return the money.”

Fallon knew she would say whatever Squire needed to hear to keep him from killing her. What she did once she was safe was another matter entirely.

---