ON THE OTHER SIDE OF the mountain, a grey-haired man threw his cell phone on the coffee table near him and roared.
Blind with fury, he threw the glass with bourbon he had in the other hand. The glass shattered against the grill protecting the fireplace.
Panting with frustration, he stood up and went limping to the window. He had hurt his leg while riding the week before, and his slightly overweight figure didn’t help the healing too much.
He looked out the window for a few moments and then returned and grabbed the phone. He punched a number with shaky fingers. His fury raged in force.
“Mr. Phelps, good evening,” he was greeted.
“Monroe,” he said curtly. “How did your little task go?”
“We got her good, sir,” the man snickered. “We tied her up in the barn and started a fire. The guy wh
