can’t imagine how frightened I’ve been.” Suddenly feeling too weary, she dropped both her gun and the ID case onto the bed. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He reached for his gun, tucked it into the waistband of his jeans, and snagged hers up next along with his ID. Once the ID was back in his pocket he checked her weapon.
The glare that followed was penetrating, fierce. “Did you know this weapon isn’t loaded?”
She collapsed onto the edge of the bed. She was too exhausted and too emotionally wiped out to explain fully. “Yes,” she admitted. “I didn’t have anything left to trade for bullets.”
That piercing gaze intensified. “Trade? What the hell are you talking about?”
She shrugged tiredly. “I had to make a run for it with no money or plastic. I met a guy in an alley near the bus station who traded me the gun for my Rolex. I’d already traded my engagement ring for a bus ticket out of Chicago and my shoes for these clothes and sneakers. I didn’t have anything left.”
“You are kidding, right?”
Indignant, she shook her head. “I didn’t have any choice.” What was the big deal? Though she couldn’t accurately assess the value of the engagement ring, it could have been as fake as her fiancé. The remainder of the items had been top of the line. The girl who got her shoes certainly got the better bargain. They were Guccis after all. The wedding dress a Vera Wang, but it had been ruined, and she’d had to cram it into a trash bin. The horrible memories she’d kept at bay for nearly 72 hours now spilled one over the other into her weary mind.
Her stomach roiled. There had been so much blood.
Uncle Russ was dead.
She blinked back the tears that threatened. She had to be strong, had to get back to her father. His already fragile life might be in danger, too. No matter what else happened, she had to have help getting her life back. She had to make sure he didn’t hurt her father. Her father’s safety was of primary importance. With his health so poor, almost anything could finish him off. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him yet, and certainly not like this.
The man, Ethan Delaney, looked at her with something new in his eyes…pity, maybe? Anger kindled in her belly and was joined by indignation. She didn’t need his pity; she needed his investigative expertise.
“When did you eat last?” he asked quietly, concerned.
She thought about that one for a moment, then remembered. The last three days were like one big blur of runaway emotions in her memory, some images more vivid than others. She immediately pushed those away. “The man at the front desk gave me a bag of peanuts and a soft drink when I checked in this morning,” she admitted. “Since I didn’t have any money I was profoundly grateful.”
“Really?” Ethan said, clearly skeptical. He lifted an eyebrow in punctuation. “How’d you pay when you checked in if you didn’t have any money or plastic?”
He probably wasn’t going to like this part. “I told him the man I was expecting would pay. Apparently that’s customary at this establishment.”
Ethan puffed out an impatient breath, then massaged his chin trying to decide what to do with her. Finally, as if he’d fought his own better judgment and lost, he shook his head. “Let’s go get you something to eat, then we’ll talk.”
She swung her head side to side in adamant disagreement of his suggestion. “I don’t feel leaving the room would be a wise move until we come to an agreement. Can’t you call for something to be delivered?”
His facial features set in grim lines, he stalked over to the table next to the bed and jerked the single drawer open. She tried not to dwell on the fact that she’d already alienated her only hope and they’d barely met. She had to work seriously on her people skills. But first, before anything else, she had to convince him to believe her. Success depended solely on that one step.
After checking the yellow pages, he asked, “Pizza okay?”
Her stomach clenched in anticipation. “Yes.” It wasn’t the cuisine she usually preferred, but it would certainly do. She was starved.
After he’d placed the order, he sat down in the only chair in the room, his expression unreadable. “The pizza’ll be here in twenty minutes.” He leveled that dark, analyzing gaze on her once more, making her tremble in spite of her best efforts not to. “I know who your father is and most everything I need to know about the company, BalPhar. But I need you to start at the beginning and tell me why you think someone is trying to kill you.”
His apathy infuriated her. “I don’t think,” she said hotly, “I know.” She glared at him, though she was confident her killer stare was not nearly as effective as his.
He lifted one shoulder and let it fall, the gesture as nonchalant as his tone and all the more infuriating. “Then tell me how you know.”
She drew in a deep, bolstering breath and started at the beginning as he’d requested, but opted for the abbreviated version. “Five years ago my father began a new research project with another scientist, Dr. Kessler. As the research progressed, Dr. Kessler made extraordinary advances. Then two years ago another scientist came on board with the project. With his help, the results rocketed to a whole new level.”
She was so tired. None of what she was about to say could be proven. How could she expect an outsider to accept it? How could it even be happening? Her father had always been so careful. How would she ever make this man believe the unbelievable tale she was about to relay? It was real and she had to have his help. Her father trusted Victoria Colby. If Victoria had sent this guy, Jenn had to trust him. But she couldn’t tell him everything—not yet. If she told him too much too fast, he would never believe her. Some things a person had to see with their own eyes.
She rubbed at her temples and stretched her neck in a bid for more time, then went on, “About a year ago there was a falling out between the two lead scientists and Dr. Kessler left. Now, the project named after him is ready to move to the next level—testing on human subjects.”
“Kessler is out of the picture completely?” Delaney wanted to know.
She nodded. “He won’t have anything to do with BalPhar. He even refuses his share of the stocks.”
That revelation made headway with her so-far unimpressable guest. He looked somewhat more interested.
He asked no questions, so she continued. “The drug created is a chemotherapy agent that literally neutralizes cancer cells. It’s called Cellneu.”
She noted another almost imperceptible change in those dark eyes. Even she felt amazed at how the drug worked. “Astonishing, isn’t it?”
“And very valuable,” he suggested.
“Very.” That one drug would make BalPhar a fortune a dozen times over and has the potential of saving countless lives. “There’s only one problem,” she added, but hesitated before going on. She had absolutely no proof of what she was about to say.
He studied her for a moment, considering what she’d told him so far. “Is that why you think someone is trying to kill you? To steal your new drug?”
She shook her head. “Someone is trying to kill me,” she
