Chapter 18: Through the Glass

Clyde's POV

I gave her twenty minutes, and I lasted sixteen.

I sat in my truck at the far end of the Pennington Auto lot and watched the blinds on the mezzanine window.

They had been drawn since nine o'clock.

Three years ago I had watched a woman walk down a flight of steps toward a lie, and I had done nothing.

I was not going to watch her go up a flight of stairs toward Brice and do nothing again.

At sixteen minutes a shadow crossed the blinds fast, then another, and I heard a man's shout through the glass.

I got out of the truck.

The showroom doors slid open for me.

Six salesmen stood around a white pickup, drinking coffee, and every one of them looked up.

"Sir, can I help you?"

"No," I said, and took the stairs two at a time.

The door at the top was locked.

I put my shoulder into it, once, and the frame cracked.

Brice had Leona backed against his desk.

He held her phone high over his head in one hand, and with the other he was shoving her off.

She was trying to climb him to reach it, with her face white and furious.

"Let go of her," I said.

Brice turned his head.

"Brennan." His smile came back. "You're trespassing. And you're a dead man."

"Give her the phone."

"Come and take it."

I stayed where I was.

I had promised her I would not swing at anyone, whatever they said, and I meant to keep it.

So I walked forward with my hands open at my sides.

"I haven't touched you," I said, loud enough for the stairwell. "I'm not going to. Give the phone to your wife."

"Get out of my office."

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