Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
EROS
Not really sure what to make of Bonte’s father, but I believe what he is telling us. We both want the same thing. It's not only about getting her back. It's also about eliminating threats, and these two agents are that.
“It’s an intriguing idea, but they should know better. Serial killers can be prickly about their kills. Including being framed or pinned for one that isn’t theirs,” Naomi says casually.
Do you call a serial killer that to their face? Suppose it doesn’t matter. Silas hasn’t flinched over any remarks that have been said.
"It worked. When I saw my name being tagged to kills that weren't mine, I got curious.
I think the plan was twofold for them. They'd been working my case for a few years.
One of them got the harebrained idea to pin a few kills of their own on me.
People they needed eliminated. In doing so, it lured me out.
Then they wanted to be able to catch me. "
"Then they'd get a gold star and some fame," my father says.
"Their own kills tucked away to never haunt them," I add. It's not the worst idea, but it's stupid. You're taunting a killer when you have no fucking clue who they are.
"They caught me one night." Silas stands, lifting his shirt to show a jagged scar across his side.
"In the sense that they've seen my face.
I found an old veterinarian's clinic and stitched myself up.
I was in and out of it for almost a day.
When I was finally about to get my footing, they had already closed in on Bonte.
" His eyes always soften when he says her name.
"And then they used her as bait to try and find you again." Silas nods. "Then everything went to shit; they shipped her out."
"Bonte is never far from me. But it can take time to find her." Silas reaches into his coat, pulling out a black device that appears similar to a phone. "It took me time. She has to be within a certain range for it to pick up her signal."
I snatch the device out of his hand and toss it to my father. "You have a tracker on her."
"What are you doing?" He lunges to his feet, trying to grab the tracker, but I'm quicker, locking my hand around his throat.
I don't hold him; I fling him back toward the couch he's been sitting on in my father's office. I don't think he'll stab me again, but the man is good with knives. I'd rather keep him at arm's length for now.
"Don't." I stay on my feet to loom close to him but not too close. "If I understand you correctly, you went from city to city until it picked up her signal."
"It took me years." He sounds defeated.
"We don't have time to be roaming around. Now answer the damn question. The tracker. What and where is it?"
"I got it from a guy I knew. Retired special ops."
"It's older," my father says. "It gives off less of a signal.
So if you're caught and they run a scan over you, it won't come up.
The downside to it is you have to be close enough for you to track it yourself.
It worked well for a few years for ground operations.
Isolated areas of attack. That is most likely where you'd be captured by the enemy.
" Dad never takes his attention away from the device as he fills us in on what it is.
"You're lucky it still works all these years later.
They weren't made to stay in the body for more than a few years. I'm guessing this to be ten years old."
"Yes."
"In the arm?" My dad asks.
"Told her it was a flu shot."
"Keep going."
"There isn't much beyond that. I found her, and she was content. What was I to do? Drag her back to what? So I simply watched over her. I didn't care for the people she was with, but they let her be. So I let them live."
"You killed them," I remind him.
"They were no longer useful, and I needed to draw everyone out of hiding. My little girl went missing." His cold gaze hardens on me.
“You can be pissed all you want, motherfucker, but you’re the reason we’re all here.” Silas’s jaw ticks.
“I’d been killing long before Bonte came into my life,” he admits.
I saw Naomi press her lips together tightly. I know she wants to fire off rounds of questions, but she knows now isn’t the time.
“I should have let her be adopted. Have a normal life, but her mother—” His nose flares, that anger still right there.
“She wanted to keep her, and when I held her that first time, so did I. It didn’t take long for me to see her mother only wanted to keep Bonte to use against me.
When her mother realized I would simply kill her, she tried to kill my daughter. ”
“Drown her. Did she try to drown her?” Naomi leans forward to ask. She can’t contain herself any longer.
“Yes.”
“I knew it,” she mutters under her breath.
“But you’re right. This is my own doing. I want to get my daughter back and give her a choice of the life she wants. If I make it out of this.” His cold gaze slides back to me. “But I’m not sure you’d give her a choice.”
“I would never harm Bonte.”
“That’s not what I said.” He cocks his head. “I’d never hurt here either, but here I am because of my own selfish choices. We could free her.”
“We have a problem.” War comes into the office. We’d given him a heads-up about what was happening. I’m sure the rest of the family will be showing up too.
“What?”
“Got this.” He hands me his phone. I stare at the picture of Bonte.
She’s sitting on the ground, pressed into a corner, her hands taped together in front of her and blood splattered across her.
I search the picture for more details. I don’t believe the blood is hers. That splatter is from a distance.
“They contacted you?” I thought this was all about getting to Silas, but it wasn’t that easy. Not anymore. They know we’re wrapped up in this. That the Marinos protect their own, and that’s exactly what Bonte is.
“Ransom.”
“They know it doesn’t matter what they do. We’ll come for them. They might as well try and get cash in the process.” War says.
“Track the message.” I drop the phone down on the desk. I’m sure it will take time. They wouldn't have sent it without trying to bounce the locations, but people always underestimate Mac and my father.
A red haze bleeds into my eyes, and I have to take a deep breath and push it back. All I can see is that blood on her.
“Got her.” My head snaps up. Dad hasn’t even touched the phone. He must have pulled it from the device Silas had.
“What?” I rush back over to his desk to see for myself.
“With tech, you’re always trying to figure out how to circumvent the very obstacles you use to put in others’ ways. You create something, and then you try to figure out how to beat your own technology. We can track these signals further now and detect them on people,” my dad rattles off.
"It's a house in the suburbs." The homes are spread out but not by much.
Not enough for me to feel confident in taking a subject there.
I would worry about them screaming and trying to get away.
There wasn't a gag on Bonte. "It's new. I'd bet that's a stage house for the new homes they're building there. "
"You're right," my dad confirms.
"Let's go." I point to Silas. "You're with me."
"Hold on, we need a plan here." My dad says.
"I don't need shit. I've got bait, and I'll throw it right on that fucking front lawn." Silas comes to stand beside me.
"Go, we'll be behind you," War says. "Z, get in touch with Mac and Marks. Eyes in the sky from all directions."
"I'm going with you," Naomi says but looks to her father. War gives a nod.
We stop in the garage to grab a few weapons before we roll out. Naomi hops into the driver's seat. With anyone else, I would protest, but Naomi has always had a thing for cars. I've never met anyone who can handle one better than her.
“It’s not far,” I tell her, but the location is already popping up on the dash screen, courtesy of Mac, I’m sure. Naomi and she are always connected in one way or another.
Naomi guns it. The tires are spinning as she bolts out of the garage. “Shit,” she mutters. “Aunt Cosima is going to be pissed if that left marks on the floor.”
I cock my gun, making sure there is a bullet in the chamber. “Mac?”
“I’m here.”
“Give us everything you have about the houses around there and if you have heat signatures."
“I’m already on it. My drone is five minutes from the location.”
I’m thinking everything is empty there, and it was picked for that very reason. It’s already Friday night bleeding into Saturday. They have a nice window of time. No one will be back until Monday.
There might be a lone security guard that keeps an eye on the construction equipment and keeps away the metal thieves or kids that break in and party.
I can’t let myself think about what they might have done to her already.
I’m trying to keep a level of calm, but it’s slipping through my fingers.
Mac comes back a few minutes later, filling us in on all the details she has gotten.
There is one security guard, but he has to know that the house is being occupied. That means he’s been paid off.
“Eros.” Mac's tone is too soft.
“How many in the house, Mac?” She pauses. “Spit it out!” I shout.
“There are a total of three heat signatures, but one has to be dead. Their temperature has dropped. If they’re not dead, they will be very soon.” I grip my gun tighter.
“Do we have a plan at all?” Silas asks when we hit the main road.
“Don’t die,” I tell him.
I could give a flying fuck about him when I get my Bonte back. I’ll have her welcome home present, wrapped up nice and tight, to do with as she sees fit.