“We don’t have to do this, Ror.”
“No. We do have to do this. We need to put an end to this once and for all.” I stride up the pathway to the front stoop, and before I can think better of it, I knock harshly on the door.
Callie stands next to me, her eyes on fire.
We’re ready. Don’t fuck with the Pike sisters.
Except that no one comes to the door.
I pound on it once more.
“Rory, they have a doorbell.”
“I don’t care. I feel like pounding on the door, and I’m going to pound on the door.” I throw my fist against it a third time.
“You can hurt your hand,” Callie says.
“You kidding me? I feel nothing. I’m angry right now, Callie. Really, really angry. I can’t believe they think they can do this to us.”
Finally the door opens in front of me.
“Of course,” Callie says dryly. “Going to break a few windows over here as well?”
Pat Lamone stands in front of us, framed by the doorway. “The Pike sluts. Where’s your criminal brother?”
“Filing a false police report carries a penalty of up to six months in jail,” Callie says.
Pat ignores the comment. “What do the two of you want?”
“We want to see Doc Sheraton.”
“He’s out of town.”
“Great, just great,” I say.
“Where is he?” Callie demands. “We want his number.”
“I’m not giving you his personal cell number.” Pat’s hands whip to his hips.
“Yeah, you are. We think he might be really interested in this email that came from his account.” I shove a hard copy of the email under Pat’s nose.
He grabs it from me. “Let me see that.”
“We know Brittany sent this. Or maybe you did. Whoever did had access to the doc’s computer.”
“I didn’t send it.”
“Right. You expect us to believe that.” Callie shakes her head. “You’re even dumber than I thought.”
“Actually, this is probably Brittany’s work.”
“So you’re going to sell out your little girlfriend,” I say. “Typical.”
“Brittany and I broke up.”
“Which explains why you’re in her father’s house.” I roll my eyes.
“Okay… We didn’t technically break up. But my plans are to break up with her.”
“You better quiet down,” Callie says. “She’s going to hear you, Pat.”
“Brittany’s not here. She went to Wyoming with her dad. I’m house-sitting.”
“Why’d they go to Wyoming?” I demand.
“How the hell should I know? Business, I guess.”
“What the hell kind of business does a small-town veterinarian have?” Callie asks.
“Do I look like a freaking encyclopedia? I don’t know. I’m just house-sitting.”
I whisk past him then, walk right into the home. “You won’t mind if we come in, then. Have a look around.”
“I don’t mind, but the doc might. You’re trespassing.”
“You a cop?”
He says nothing.
“Of course he’s not a cop,” Callie says. “And if you call the cops, we’ll be happy to tell them what you’ve done.”
“You don’t have anything on me.”
“Want to bet?” I say.
“Yeah, I’ll take those odds.”
Callie and I exchange a look. We’re not going to tell him about the child porn charges. We’ll keep that to ourselves.
“Go ahead, then,” Callie says. “Call Hardy. Call the whole fucking force.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“Try us,” I say.
I’m well aware that my photos could still be plastered across social media. And in a disgusting way, I’m almost hoping he tries to post Callie’s. Then we get him.
“Where are the photos?” Callie demands.
“Like I’d tell you.”
“We found the ones you buried. Same place where you found our key.” I scan the hallway. “Nice try.”
“We’re going to find all the photos,” Callie says, “and when we do, you’re going to be in a world of hurt.”
“Yeah, I know, I know. You can send Donovan Steel after me. The whole fucking Steel family.”
“The Steels have a lot of power,” I say.
“You think I don’t know that? I know more about the Steels than either one of you do.”
Callie scoffs. Holds out her left hand. “I doubt that.”
“Yeah, yeah. I heard the good news. You think because you’re engaged to Donny Steel you know everything? There are things Donny himself doesn’t even know.”
“Like what?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Like…Steels are everywhere.”
“They’re a big family,” I say.
“That’s not what I mean. Now get the hell out of Doc Sheraton’s house.”
“I don’t think so,” Callie says. “I think we’re going to have a look around while we’re here.”
“And you’re not going to call the cops,” I say, “because you don’t want to know what’s going to happen to you if you do.”
His lips quiver. Just a touch, but I notice. I frightened him. Perhaps he does know that it’s illegal for him to possess those photos of Callie. He doesn’t need to even post them. Possession is all it takes.
But first, we have to prove that he possesses them.
“The photos probably aren’t here,” Callie says. “Not at Doc Sheraton’s. They’re probably in his room at Mrs. Mayer’s house.”
“I’ll have you arrested if you break into that nice old lady’s house,” Pat says. “Her heart can’t take it, especially after your brother and his cronies smashed it up.”