15. Chapter 14
Your girl knows you asked us to follow her… Fleur told her. Bradford read Tiago’s text, which was followed by a shrug emoji. Okay, then.
He sent back a thumbs-up, hoping she wasn’t mad about it. Not like he’d have let her leave without someone watching out for her, but he still didn’t relish the idea of her being pissed at him. Another barrier to overcome was the last thing he needed with Hope.
“This could be interesting,” Berlin called out from the kitchen of the home she and the others were renting. Her husband was still back in New Orleans helping handle a job for the Feds, and she’d only been a little cranky without him.
Bradford headed into the spacious farmhouse kitchen and found Berlin where he’d left her before, sitting at the massive island top.
Rowan was currently cooking something for everyone, and the scent of marinara and whatever else he was whipping up made Bradford’s stomach growl. Adalyn and Ezra were both cleaning their pistols at the breakfast table, and…he wasn’t sure where Hailey and her husband were.
She also bought you dinner, just fyi , came another text, this one from Fleur. And I couldn’t lie to her. I like her! Sorry, not sorry .
His heart did a weird little flip at the thought that Hope had bought him dinner. Thanks for letting me know. He’d be skipping dinner here because he would rather share it with her.
“Are you paying attention?”
He looked over to find Berlin staring at him, her expression hard.
“So much for not being cranky,” he muttered.
That got a raised eyebrow from her, but she turned back to her laptop.
He sat next to her as she turned up the volume. The quality of the cameras was decent, but it was the audio that really mattered.
“I don’t understand why I have to go out of town.” Patrick Killeen was sitting at the island countertop similar to the one in their own rental, looking like a petulant child as he stared at his father across from him.
“I need you to be in New Orleans, and your mother needs a shopping trip. You’ll make sure that you’re seen at a lot of places, make big tips wherever you guys eat, visit any art gallery your mother wants, and don’t get into any trouble.
Do you understand me?” More than annoyance, there was something a lot like contempt in Edward’s tone.
“Dad—”
Edward held up a hand to silence his son, then turned as a pretty blonde strode into the room. “Hey hon, beautiful as always.”
He’d been married to Tara Killeen for almost thirty years, and if his financials were any indication, he was faithful to her.
At least according to Berlin’s research.
The man liked to spoil his wife with lavish vacations and shopping trips, and as Bradford watched the two on-screen it seemed clear that they were both affectionate after three decades together.
For the next five minutes they watched as the wife and son said their good-byes, then finally left.
“I don’t like that he wants his son out of town,” Bradford said as he watched Edward pull out a bottle of whiskey, pour a small glass .
“Giving him an alibi is what it sounds like,” Adalyn said without looking up from the kitchen table.
Most definitely.
“Looks like he might have company,” Berlin murmured a few minutes later as the man set his now empty whiskey glass down.
On the split screen, Bradford watched as the same guy he’d seen in the woods with Killeen stalked into the kitchen with clear familiarity.
“Well?” Killeen asked.
“I’ve got things handled. How long is Patrick gone?”
“Just headed out, and the plan is for them to be in New Orleans through Wednesday at least. He knows what to do.”
“You’re sure about this?” the man asked.
“That’s Dale Watsky,” Berlin whispered as they continued talking. “Former military, weapons expert.”
Huh.
“You find Hall yet?” Killeen asked.
“Yep.”
Ned Hall was Patrick’s best friend, the one suspected of being with him the night Patrick broke into Hope’s place.
“He doesn’t suspect anything,” Watsky added.
Killeen was silent for a long moment, then nodded. “All right, it’s a solid plan. But there can’t be any room for error.”
“The woman might not even be a problem.” Watsky’s tone was neutral.
“She should have let things go with Patrick,” Killeen snapped. “All she had to do was drop it.”
Watsky nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
Even through the screen, Bradford could see the man didn’t like that.
Watsky held up his palms. “I’m just saying. She’s not from here… She do esn’t live here anymore. It’s not like she knows who you are. And Patrick did break into her dad’s place.” Another pause, then, “And she’s a journalist. Not a nobody either. She won a Pulitzer. People will notice if she dies.”
Dies? Everything inside Bradford went still. Apparently he was going to have to kill this bastard. Slowly. Painfully.
“That’s why we have to do this right. I’m sure she’s pissed off a lot of people over the years. Even if we don’t get everything right, there will be plenty of suspects—and Patrick is out of town. Nothing will come back on us.
Watsky simply nodded, but Bradford could see he didn’t like it.
And it was taking all of his self-control not to storm out of here, hunt down Killeen, and put an end to him for good. Just put a bullet in his head and call it a day. It was clear he was coming for Hope and had a plan to do it.
“Fine, but it feels too public and not worth our time,” Watsky added, clearly not done with the conversation.
“Since when did you start questioning me?” Killeen snarled.
“I’m not questioning you. I’m trying to keep you—our operation —safe. We’ve got a great thing going, and Patrick…” He trailed off, clearly not willing to say more.
“Jesus, I know.” Some of the wind seemed to leave him as he grabbed his bottle of whiskey and another glass.
Watsky took the other glass offered and they silently sipped for a few minutes.
“I’ll keep him in line,” Killeen finally said into the quiet. “Let’s just handle the woman, then after that I’ll get him in line.”
“What about the husband?” Watsky asked as he set his glass down.
“Just some asshole. Works for some security company as an analyst or something in New Orleans. He won’t be a problem. ”
“Glad to know our covers hold,” Bradford murmured.
Berlin sniffed. “Because I’m a genius.”
He grinned at that, despite the turmoil roiling in his gut. This asshole wanted to kill Hope and it wasn’t going to happen.
“He might get in the way,” Watsky said.
“Nah. If you do things right and lure her away from the farm, everything’ll be fine. You sure you’ve got that part covered?”
“Yeah.” It was clear that Watsky still didn’t agree with whatever Killeen wanted, but he was still going along with it.
“She’ll get the text tomorrow afternoon to meet at the lawyer’s, then…
” He made a sort of explosion motion with his hand.
“We’ll pin it on Ned. Shouldn’t be hard to make it look like he did it. ”
Okay, so it was clear that the plan was to kill her then.
For a moment, Bradford saw red, wanted to head right to her, pack her up, willing or not, and haul ass out of town. But he knew how that would go over.
Killeen nodded. “Ned’s a dumbass. And if the Tanner brothers hadn’t spooked her the other night…” He shook his head and downed his glass.
So Edward did have something to do with them going to her father’s house. But why? The same reason that Patrick had?
“We’re going to handle this.” Rowan’s voice cut through the quiet kitchen, and Bradford looked up to find his friend watching him carefully.
“I know.”
“You sure? Because you look homicidal right now.”
“Probably because that’s how I feel. But I’m not going to run off and do something stupid.” Probably. Definitely . “I’m going to head out. Keep me updated.” He’d seen enough, and he wanted eyes on Hope.
Hands too, but at the moment he was certain that wasn’t on the table. They might be married, but it was in name only. For now .
“I’ll let you know if anything else pops up… Maybe you guys should just stay here tonight?” Berlin asked, her tone cautious.
“I’ll ask her, see what she thinks.” But Killeen’s “plan” wasn’t until tomorrow anyway, so he doubted she would want to leave.
Berlin nodded and the others were quiet as he left, which was just as well. He didn’t want to talk right now, he simply wanted to see Hope.