Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brewer Page 5

  Five minutes later, having changed into jeans and a sweater, she was on the highway out of town with a snarling cat strapped into the front seat in a cardboard box. The cat was not happy and the noise coming out of the box was pretty much the same as a child screaming—absolutely horrible and very distracting. The snow was also falling faster in great thick lumps that hit the windshield and splattered into wet bursts, battering the windshield wipers that struggled to keep up with the onslaught.

  “Not far now, kitty,” she soothed and turned the heater up full blast. It made the old Dodge Intrepid smell like a junkyard, an unpleasant combination of hot electrics, burning dust, and ancient air conditioning gas. “Just another couple of miles, sweetheart.”

  Perhaps the sound of the radio would calm both their nerves. Some local radio was bland enough: easy listening, local news stories, nothing too abrasive.

  …polar vortex forecasted to cause extreme weather conditions in Passion Creek over the next two days. Residents are advised not to venture out unless absolutely necessary. Shortages of batteries, milk, and bread in stores have already been reported. Stay indoors and please do not call on the emergency services unless the situation is critical.

  Piper turned the radio sharply off. “Great.” The cardboard box of pregnant cat rocked in the car seat like something possessed. “We’re three quarters of the way there, might as well keep going now. Maybe they’ll have a nice big dog basket I can crash in overnight, huh?”

  She smiled to herself, hoping that the physical process of making those facial muscles work would kick off a feel-good hormone or something, and then her heart skipped a beat. A warning light on the dashboard was blinking on and off, silent but as effective as a red-hot needle near her eyeball. The symbol looked like a chunky toy submarine and had the word check underneath. “Check what?” Her hands suddenly felt clammy on the steering wheel and she wasn’t all that cold anymore. She swallowed and stared hard at the road ahead that was quickly disappearing under the snow.

  “Just a silly light, cat, nothing that can’t wait until we can get to Mike the Mechanic in a couple of days. Absolutely nothing to worry about.”

  She turned off the heater to be on the safe side and gritted her teeth hard. There was a vibration, probably just the road surface, which reminded her that she hadn’t looked at the tread on her tires lately. She eased off the gas although her instinct was to put her foot down and get to the vet clinic as quickly as possible, but she couldn’t risk skidding in this kind of weather. Maybe she had a slow puncture… God, she hated having to drive anywhere in this heap of scrap metal.

  The vehicle was losing speed as the road sloped uphill, but putting her foot down didn’t make much difference, and the vibrating became intermittent lurching that had her developing a panic attack. She couldn’t stop; she had to keep going.

  “Shit.” The fear in her voice was audible and that made her even more frightened. Her knuckles tightened around the steering wheel and adrenaline prickled her forehead. “This is all your fault, Sophie, just wait till I get a hold of you.” And then one last grinding lurch and the engine spluttered and stalled.

  Piper tried the ignition, but after a few whiny attempts it became clear it wasn’t going to play. So it wasn’t a flat tire. It was a dying, possibly now dead car. Perfect. Her chest felt like someone was clenching a fist inside of it. “Deep breaths, Piper, this is going to turn out okay.” She unclipped her seat belt and strained to reach her purse on the backseat to get her cell phone. The cat started to growl in a deep, threatening way, and she wondered if anyone had ever been savaged to death and then eaten by a pregnant domesticated cat.

  To her relief, the cell phone showed a healthy signal so she could call Melanie and ask her to come and rescue her. Her buddy Kira was probably closer, but she didn’t want to bother her. She’d had such a hard time since her aunt and guardian had died and, right now, she had her hands full with her old boyfriend, Max. Kira texted earlier that Max had refused to leave town like he was supposed to, and Piper hadn’t gotten the feeling that was a bad thing. The last thing she wanted to do was interrupt a hot reunion between the two.

  Her dad was out of the question, too. His car was more of a wreck than the stupid Dodge she was stranded in right now, so there’d probably be two of them who’d need rescuing by the end of the night.

  The phone felt cold against her ear and she had an awful sense of foreboding about how this was going to turn out. “Come on, Mel, pick up…” Her call went to voicemail.

  Now was the perfect time to regret not investing in some AAA emergency roadside assistance. The cardboard box was starting to take on a life of its own and it sounded as if the angry cat was trying to claw and scratch her way to freedom. Once the cat was out of the box, she’d be in serious trouble. There hadn’t even been a passing vehicle to flag down in the last few minutes.

  “I’m going to have to swallow my pride and do the unthinkable, aren’t I?” She sighed deeply and slid Matt’s business card out of the credit card slot of her cell phone cover. “Talk about humiliating.”

  He picked up immediately, too quickly for her to change her mind. “DeLeo.” His voice exuded calm and confidence, and she pictured him lounging on an expensive chair in a cocoon of warmth with a nicely chilled bottle of beer close at hand.

  “It’s me, Piper.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh yes, silly me, I forgot you know everything about me including my cell phone number.”

  “You were added to my VIP contact list within seconds of dropping your card. I had every intention of seeing you again whatever happened.” He paused as if expecting a reaction, but Piper’s lips were pressed together. “But anyway, this is a nice surprise. I didn’t expect to hear from you for a few days. Been shopping yet?”

  “This isn’t a social call.”

  “Strictly business, you really meant that?”

  “This is an emergency call.”

  His tone sharpened. “Go on.”

  “My car’s broken down halfway up Spring Canyon Road and I can’t get a hold of anyone else right now.”

  “You’re out there in these conditions? Don’t you listen to the radio or TV? What the hell did you think you were doing?”

  “I’m not calling you for a damn lecture, DeLeo. I need rescuing and I figure if there’s anyone I know with a big, kick-ass four-by-four, off-road type pretentious vehicle, it’s likely to be you. Am I right?”

  “I have a Porsche parked downstairs.”

  “Damn, is that a two-seater?”

  “Yep. Are you getting picky about how you get rescued?”

  “Fine, I guess I’ll have to balance the cat on my lap.”

  “The cat? What the—”

  “Look, I’ll tell you all about it when you get here. Just hurry up before I freeze to death. So will you come and get me?” She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Or do I have to beg?”

  Chapter Five

  Matt stared straight ahead as the windshield wipers of his four-by-four thrashed back and forth, barely clearing the snowfall before it obliterated his view again. You had to be a certifiable maniac to be out on a night like this. He had an excuse, but what was Piper Reilly’s? And what was going on with the damn cat?

  He had no idea what kind of car he was looking for and hoped she had the sense to put her lights on. Then he berated himself for not finding out what she was driving and for not telling her what to do. Not that she’d take kindly to being issued instructions by him, anyway.

  The engine roared as the road began to climb and he was glad of a vehicle that could cope with terrain. His Porsche was nice and the ladies loved it, but it wasn’t designed for winters in Colorado—just a toy for around town most of the time.

  It was forecasted to get very nasty, very quickly, so he wanted to get this situation resolved. A bolt of excitement zapped up his spine as he rounded the hill and the road leveled out, revealing a car, dark blue by the looks of the portions that weren’
t covered by a layer of snow. The headlights were on and blazing through the blizzard. “Smart woman,” he whispered.

  He pulled up close behind the car, killed the engine, and leaped out. The rear window was completely white, and the driver’s side window was steamed up. He rapped his knuckles against the glass. “Come on, get out of there!” he called out, and the words seemed to be carried away on a gust of icy wind.

  “Stop shouting and hold the cat,” she yelled back as the door swung violently open. He jumped back to avoid being slammed backward into a snowdrift.

  He grabbed the cardboard box she thrust into his arms and almost dropped it as the feline thrashed about inside. “Jesus, you sure this is just a cat?”

  “She’s deeply unhappy.” Piper lunged back into the car, took the keys out of the ignition, and grabbed her purse. “And that doesn’t look much like a Porsche.”

  “That’s because it isn’t. You got grouchy about that, remember?”

  Her eyebrows snapped together accusingly. “I so did not get grouchy.”

  “Well, you sound grouchy now.” He turned toward the Land Rover. “Get in quickly, we shouldn’t be hanging around out here. It’s getting hazardous.”

  It was a relief to get back into the muffled warmth of the car after a few moments out in the biting cold. Even the cardboard box on the backseat seemed a little calmer strapped neatly against the soft upholstery. “So are you going to tell me what you’re doing out here with a box of cat in a snowstorm?”

  “I was taking her to the drop-in vet clinic a couple of miles farther on, but now you are.”

  “I am?” He looked across at her and was captivated by a tiny snowflake clinging to the tip of one of her eyelashes. It melted within seconds and dripped onto her cheek.

  “You are.” She wiped the snow drip away with the back of her hand and glared at him. “So can we get moving, please?”

  There was no point sitting there arguing about it. Another few miles wasn’t going to make too much difference, or at least he hoped it wouldn’t. He started the engine and she seemed to wilt back into the seat with relief. She looked even more shattered than she had this morning. “I know where it is, we’ll be there pretty soon. What’s up with your pussy?”

  Piper threw him an acidic look. “The cat has an injured tail that needs seeing to.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “Someone shut the bathroom door on it by the looks of things.” She shrugged irritably. “My clumsy sister, I suspect, but she fled back to our parents before I could interrogate her.”

  “That’s one problem off your hands in that case. Dump the cat and we can go to Antigua for a week.”

  “You seem to have conveniently forgotten about your launch campaign and the fact you need me to pose for the camera a few times.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “I’m not dumping anyone or anything. Besides, we may all freeze to death before the airports reopen, and I fully expect my sister to come rolling back after a few days back in Mommy’s strict, clean, organized domain.”

  “A mom who cleans and cooks? You don’t know how lucky you are.”

  “You sound bitter. Or am I imagining it?”

  Was he bitter about his mother? Possibly. He felt pretty sour about the fact he’d only met his musician father once and his mom hadn’t seemed to do anything to keep him in his life, but she insisted it was for the best in the long run. Perhaps his mom had been right, but she’d been far from maternal herself; it wouldn’t have hurt to try and cook a Thanksgiving dinner just once.

  “Your sister sounds like a pain,” he said, ignoring her question, and then coughed awkwardly into a clenched fist.

  To his surprise, she laughed. “She is, but you don’t get to choose your family, do you?”

  “Hell no.” A yellow road sign was just visible under a layer of white frosting and she let out a long breath beside him. “We’re here,” he said. “Everything’s going to be fine now.”

  “I forgot to thank you.” There was a throaty edge to her words. “I was stressed, and I’m sorry for being rude back there.”

  “I was raised on rude, don’t worry.” He turned to see a soft smile on those plump pink lips and his belly quivered. How badly did he want to kiss them again? So much it made his teeth ache. “Let’s get inside.”

  The lobby of the veterinary clinic was deserted apart from the receptionist and a harried-looking man carrying a parrot in a cage.

  “How can I help you?” the petite blonde said sweetly, a twinkle behind her half-moon spectacles as she looked from one to the other.

  “It’s my cat,” Piper said quickly. “She’s pregnant and somehow all the fur has been stripped off the end of her tail.”

  “Ouch,” said Blondie. “Poor thing, we’ll get her in to see a vet right away. Now what’s her name?”

  Piper’s cheeks flushed as both Matt and the receptionist waited on her reply. “Her name? Well, we never really got around to giving her one. We just call her cat. Or kitty.”

  “Right…so can I take your name?”

  “Reilly. Piper Reilly. And she’s not really mine, that’s why she hasn’t got a name. We found her on our back step, cold, wet, and very bony apart from her big fat tummy.”

  “I see. And that will probably mean you have no insurance coverage?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  Matt saw Piper’s face drop and a look of hopelessness veil it. “We can cover the fees,” he said firmly. “It’s not a problem.” The look she gave him was all the thanks he needed.

  The receptionist flashed a receptionist’s smile and slid over a set of forms. “Then Dr. Uvi, our on-duty vet, will see you right away. You can fill these out while you’re in there. I’m sure you’ll be the last patient he’ll see today. I’m going to head home before this weather gets any worse.” She flicked off her computer screen. “Good luck with Cat Reilly.”

  “Thanks.” Matt bent to pick up the box. “I’d better come in with you. It could be a two-man job by the sounds she’s making in there.”

  Piper bit her bottom lip as the cat made a sound like the howling wind outside. “I hope Dr. Uvi has gauntlets.”

  “And a chainmail pullover.” He heaved the box up to his chest as the beast within slid heavily from side to side, the sound of claws scraping ominously. He hoped the box would hold out. He turned back to the receptionist, who was already pulling on her coat. “Before you head off, can I buy one of those pet carriers you’ve got behind there? I think the snow may get the better of this box by the end of the night.”

  “Sure,” she said with a more genuine smile this time. “We can just add it to the final bill. What color do you want?”

  Matt turned to Piper questioningly. “Not pink?”

  She frowned, but there was a hint of a smile about her mouth. “Not pink.” He watched her apple green gaze roam over the shelving. “I wouldn’t normally choose anything beige, but in this case I think the alternatives will freak Miss Cat out.”

  The veterinarian, Dr. Uvi, was a thin man in his mid-twenties with more than a few hours’ beard growth on his face. He smiled and tapped on the records screen next to the examination table. “So…” His accent sounded Eastern European. “We have a pregnant cat with an injured tail, correct?”

  “That’s right,” Piper said as he tentatively pried apart the cardboard flaps on top of the box. “I came home and found her like this. She seems to be in pain by the way she’s licking and fussing over her tail.”

  The vet gently lifted the large bundle of fur from the box. The cat was so startled, or stressed perhaps, that she hunched stiffly on the cold surface and made no attempt to escape or lash out. “Hi there, kitty, I’m not going to hurt you.” He carefully eased her tail out from under her back legs. “And her name is?”

  Matt heard Piper exhale shortly through her nose. “Cat.”

  The doctor looked up at her briefly and appeared to decide it would be best to concentrate on the animal in front of him.

 
; “You should give the poor thing a name,” Matt whispered as the vet felt around the cat’s abdomen and peered into her eyes with a slim mini-flashlight.

  “I should do a lot of things,” she hissed back. “But maybe you’d like to choose one as you’re so generously footing the bill.”

  Man, she was prickly. “I’ll take you up on that when we’re out of here.”

  Her chin jerked upwards. “Good, you do that, Superman.”

  Matt leaned over and whispered into her ear. “Can you cut it out? You’re making this guy feel uncomfortable when we should both be concerned for a distressed animal, not scoring points on who can be more snarky.”

  Piper leaned away and frowned like he had a bad smell around him. “I didn’t want to give her a name because I was convinced her real owner would show up. She’s such a pretty thing. I didn’t want to get too emotionally attached in case…” She shrugged and looked at the floor.

  “Ah, I see.” Dr. Uvi clicked his light off and rubbed his chin. “Then maybe we should see if she has a microchip before we go any further?”

  Matt watched Piper’s shoulders tense as she said, “Cats can have microchips?”

  The vet nodded. “I’d be surprised to find a nice Bengal like this without one.”

  “Is that what she is? I wondered what breed she was with that spotty tummy and those big markings.” The vet picked up a white plastic paddle-shaped device and Piper’s hand flew to her chest. “So if there’s a microchip, she goes back to her owner?”

  An uncomfortable silence followed. Uvi shrugged and gave Matt a loaded look. Piper’s eyes suddenly looked over-bright and her chin quivered for a second until Matt reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “It would be the right thing to do,” he murmured as Dr. Uvi waved the microchip wand up and down the length of the cat’s body.

  “No chip,” Dr. Uvi said with a smile. “I’ll just check the online missing cat register. How long have you had her with you?”

  “About a month,” Piper murmured and looked at her toes. “I put an ad in the local newspaper and some posters in store windows around town, but nobody’s come forward.”