"Good," I said. "We'll be waiting. "
We hung up, and I slipped the phone back in my pocket. The wooden floorboards creaked, and Warren T.
Fox came to stand beside me. He too stared out the front windows of the store. Two cars zoomed by, barely slowing long enough to make the left turn at the crossroads before heading toward the interstate.
We didn't speak. Silence was one thing that had never bothered me. Didn't appear to bother Warren much either.
But we needed to get on with things. Because the Foxes couldn't hide here in the store forever, and I wanted to make sure they were someplace safe when I left them to go snooping over at the mine.
"Where's your house?" I asked. "Does Violet still live at home with you?"
Warren nodded. "She does. The house sits on the back edge of the lot, behind a stand of trees, next to a small creek. You can't see it from the road. "
So not only did Tobias Dawson want the land where Warren's store sat, he also wanted the old man's house.
In the South, taking someone's ancestral home was even worse than merely wanting their land. Even more reason for me to kill the dwarf.
"I'll need to see the house in a bit. Make sure it's as secure as it can be. "
Not that some wood, nails, and a door would keep out a giant, but every little bit helped. Even a few seconds'delay could mean the difference between the Foxes escaping or not, living or dying.
Warren nodded, and we lapsed into silence again.
"I suppose I should thank you," Warren finally said in a gruff voice. "For wanting to help me. "
"You don't have to thank me. Just do what I say, and everything will be fine. "
Warren stared at me. "You're a lot like him, you know. Like Fletcher. "
I didn
't respond. At one time, I would have enjoyed the comparison. Now, I wasn't so sure I wanted to be like Fletcher Lane, with his secrets and hidden agendas. I still couldn't believe he'd known who I really was all these years, that he'd compiled that file about the murder of my family, that he'd known Bria was alive and where she was - and that he hadn't told me about any of it.
Why had Fletcher kept it from me? What had been the point of hiding it from me? I thought I'd known Fletcher better than anyone. I was his apprentice, after all. The one he'd taught all his secrets to. Now I wondered if I'd really known anything about him - other than what he'd wanted me to know.
"You're hard like he was," Warren continued. "Able to put his feelings aside and do what needed to be done no matter what. I always admired that about him. Fletcher was always stronger than me. Even when Stella left us both, I never saw him break. He never wavered, not once, not even for a second. You would have never known anything was even wrong with him. "
Stella, the woman they'd both loved. The one who'd ruined their friendship, then run off with another man.
Warren lapsed into silence again, and his glossy eyes dulled with old memories. After a minute, he shook his head and came back to himself. "Anyway, I know I don't deserve it, but I appreciate your help, especially for Violet's sake. She would have died last night if not for you. "
I shrugged. "I would have done the same for anyone else. "
Warren shook his head. "No, I don't think you would have. You know there are some people who just deserve killing. Something Donovan hasn't realized yet. Something he won't ever be able to admit to himself. His father was the same way. He tried to help me out with Dawson some years back, but it didn't take. "
"So that's how you know Donovan. You knew his father. "
Warren nodded. "Daniel Caine, a fine man. Donovan is too. But he's not the one for you. "
He was more observant than I'd given him credit for. I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Warren glanced over his shoulder, but Donovan Caine was still talking on his cell phone, so he turned back to me. "I mean you and Donovan are on opposite sides. Always have been, always will be. He's not going to change, and he'll never accept what you are, what you've done. It's just not in his nature, no matter how much he might want to. "
"And you're telling me this because. . . "
"Because Donovan's a good man, and you're good too, in your own way. At least you should be if Fletcher raised you right," Warren said. "At the very least, you're good at what you do. "
"The best. I was the best at what I used to do," I corrected him. "But I'm retired now. "