Chapter Four
“This Simon Norville, could he afford to hire somebody to make an attempt on your life? Or maybe a family member who would want to see you pay?”
Nick considered Chance’s question, one he’d thought about ever since Antonio was shot. Norville didn’t like to get his hands dirty. No, he’d always hired other people to do his dirty work. When it came to computers, there probably weren’t many people on the planet better than Simon Norville. He could make money disappear and reappear with the touch of a keystroke, the transactions nearly untraceable especially in these days of Bitcoin and cryptocurrency. He’d been in high demand by every criminal across the country.
“Possible, yes. The man’s been prohibited from legally having access to or being around anyone with access to a computer. But we all know how enforceable that is. Anybody who visits him with a cellphone and internet access gives him the ability to get online and do whatever he wants. Even behind bars, which is where he currently resides. My boss verified that Norville hasn’t had any visitors in the past twelve months other than his attorney. There’s always a guard present to make sure the attorney doesn’t let Norville have access to his cellphone.”
“Smuggled cell phones are a big thing here in the U.S. As fast as one is confiscated, six more show up in general population. It’s like playing Whack-A-Mole for the guards and wardens.” Chance ran a hand through his blond hair. “These days you can do anything on a cell phone that you can do on a laptop, probably more if you get a good one with excellent Wi-Fi. So we can’t rule Norville out just yet.”
Rafe’s phone rang and he looked down at the screen, a sudden frown crossing his face. “I’ve got to take this.” Without another word, he walked out the door leaving Nick and Chance, in the conference room. In less than a minute, Rafe was back and from his aggravated expression, Nick knew right away something was wrong.
“Sorry, we’re going to have to cut things short and pick up again later.”
“What’s wrong, bro?” Chance stood and started around the table, concern clearly written on his face. Nick got up as well, ready to help if they needed it. He wouldn’t mind having something to take his mind off wondering if somebody was trailing him, hunting him, waiting for the chance to take their next shot.
“That was Joaquim Alvarez.”
“The cop in San Antonio?” Chance asked.
“Texas Ranger. And yeah. I need to talk to Gracie.”
Gracie? Why’s Rafe got to talk to the little coffee shop owner? Is she in some kind of trouble?
“Anything I can help with? You know I’ll do anything for Gracie.”
“Count me in if you need help.” The words were out before Nick could stop them. What was he thinking? He’d just said he couldn’t afford to get involved with anybody, and the minute there’s a chance she’s got a problem, bam, there he is.
Rafe sighed. “Appreciate the offer, guys, it’s just…oh, the heck with it. Come on, let’s go see her.”
Heading for the door, a sense of anticipation rippled through Nick at the thought he’d see Gracie again. Whatever it was that had Rafe cutting short their planning session had to be serious, which set off alarm bells in him. He was well aware he had a protective instinct when it came to others, especially women. Not that he considered them the weaker sex; he knew better. They were simply more vulnerable physically when it came to dangerous situations.
He knew he was getting ahead of himself. This thing with Gracie could be anything. Except his gut told him whatever news Rafe was about to tell her, it was bad. Serious enough for a cop to be calling from another city.
It only took minutes to get back to the coffee shop. Following Rafe and Chance through the door, he noted that most of the patrons from earlier had left, with only a few stragglers still inside. One table had three women he’d met at Douglas and Ms. Patti’s wedding, and he recognized the pretty redhead was Rafe’s wife, Tessa, and the woman beside her was Brody’s wife, Beth. The other woman met his gaze and her slow smile caught him off guard. The look in her eyes seemed like one of those I-know-a-secret looks, and he wondered exactly what she knew.
Pulling his gaze away from the women, he spotted Gracie standing by an older couple, holding two to-go cups in her hands. Watched them slowly rise to their feet, the old man with a noticeable hump that kept him from straightening all the way upright. The gray-haired woman grasped a bright pink cane in her left hand, her right holding the biggest purse he’d ever seen. What in the world could she be carrying around in that monstrosity?
The barista wiped down the countertop and quickly walked toward them, and Rafe carried out a short, whispered conversation with her. He watched her nod as she headed for the front door, holding it open for the elderly couple. As soon as they were out, she turned the sign from open to closed, before tugging off her apron and heading toward the back.
Gracie spun around, finally noticing them. Her eyes widened for a second before her gaze swung to her retreating assistant. Shaking her head, she faced Rafe.
“What’s going on?”
“Let’s sit down and—”
“Rafe, just spit it out. I can tell something’s happened. What?”
Rafe reached forward, taking both of Gracie’s hands in his, and Nick fought the instinct to reach over and snatch them out of the other man’s hands. Wow, he’d never had that kind of reaction before. He needed to rein in these feelings right now, because he couldn’t let anything steal his focus from finding the man who’d shot Antonio.
“Gracie, Alvarez called.”
Nick watched as all the color drained from Gracie’s face, leaving her pale and unsteady. Rafe gently eased her onto a chair and pulled out another to sit across from her. Tessa rose from her seat, and only stopped when her sister placed a hand on her forearm, shaking her head no.
“Is he out?” Gracie’s words were barely above a whisper and pulled all of Nick’s attention straight back to her. The palpable tension in the room sent a shiver down his spine, and kicked all his protective instincts into overdrive.
“Not yet, hon, but he’s up for parole. Alvarez talked to somebody on the parole board, and it looks like he might get approved. Early release for good behavior.”
Gracie’s laugh was filled with derision. “Good behavior? Please. Jeremy wouldn’t comprehend what good behavior was if you hit him over the head with a dictionary.”
Jeremy? Who’s Jeremy and what had he done to Gracie?
“Well, apparently he’s behaved well enough for the guards to agree he’s been a model prisoner since his last attempt at parole. It’s not only possible, but probable, he’ll be approved this time. Alvarez wanted to come and tell you in person, but he’s in the middle of a case and can’t leave. So, he called me to make sure you got the heads up.”
“In case I want to run again, you mean.”
Rafe’s silence at her words caused an itch on the back of Nick’s neck, especially when Gracie’s words sank in. Run. He didn’t get the impression she was in witness protection; she was too open, not withdrawn or secluded. Interacted with the community around her. Heck, she owned her own business, not something most people in hiding did, because paperwork was easily traceable, especially if you had a good hacker available.
“I’ve told you before, Gracie, you don’t ever have to run again. Let me make some calls, talk to a couple of my contacts in San Antonio. Antonio can talk with Williamson, get the FBI working on this unofficially. We’ll make sure you are protected, I promise.” Chance knelt in front of Gracie as he made the vow.
Gracie shook her head, and at her forlorn expression, Nick wanted to stride the few feet separating them, and pull her into his arms, give his own promise to protect her. And wasn’t that a kick in the head? He didn’t know this woman from Eve, and yet he felt like she was his to protect, to make sure that no one ever threatened her again.
“Chance, you can’t make that promise. Nobody can. Jeremy Brewster will get out of prison, that’s a given. And when he does, you and I both know the first thing he’s going to do is come looking for me.”
“But things are different this time, Gracie.” The female voice sounded from behind Nick, and he glanced over his shoulder to spot Tessa, followed by Beth and Camilla. Rising from their seats, they walked over to surround Gracie, a show of strength and support for their friend. While they made a cute shield, Nick doubted the three women would be much help against somebody coming out of the Texas penal system, especially if he was a violent offender bent on revenge which was the impression he was getting from the overheard conversation.
“That’s right. You’ve got all of us to watch your back.” Beth rocked Patrick against her shoulder and reached out with one hand to gently squeeze Gracie’s shoulder.
Camilla chuckled, before adding, “Yep. I don’t know about your past, and I don’t care. Whoever this Jeremy person is, if he comes after you, he’ll soon be running away like a dog with its tail between his legs when he finds out you’re protected. Gonna have a wall of Boudreaus around you, and honey, there is nothing on God’s green earth stronger than our family.”
“And you’ve got me.” The words were out of Nick’s mouth before he could stop them. At Gracie’s indrawn breath, he wondered if he’d made a mistake, gone too far, but he wouldn’t take back what he’d promised. He’d protect her, whether she wanted that protection or not. Not because he wanted to, though that was part of it. No, he needed to keep her safe. It was a biological imperative. The instant he’d realized she might be in danger, his first instinct was to snatch her up and get her somewhere safe. Someplace where he could prevent anybody from hurting her. Knowing the Boudreaus felt the same, well that was simply an added bonus.
“It’s settled. You’re staying put. If Jeremy Brewster gets out and steps one foot anywhere near Shiloh Springs county he’ll regret it.” Rafe looked into Gracie’s eyes, as if compelling her to acquiesce with his words. Long moments later, she finally nodded, and Nick found himself expelling the breath he’d been holding.
“I’ll try, but you have to understand, if Jeremy comes after one of you—”
“He’d be an idiot to think he can get within fifty miles of you, Gracie. That’s if he can even find you.” Chance gave her a wink. “You buried your past when you moved here. If you’d like, I can have Destiny double check, see if anybody’s tried to access information from your old name.”
Old name? What exactly is going on? I didn’t think witness protection in the beginning, but now it seems there might be something to my first guess. If she’s in trouble, I still want to help, but I need to know what I’m getting into.
Nick knew he’d have to get more info from Rafe. No way was he walking away from this, not if it involved the Boudreaus, especially Douglas and Ms. Patti. He knew he hadn’t developed that kind of rapport with the rest of the Boudreaus yet. After all, he’d been gone for over fifteen years with no contact. He’d been hoping before his last visit that maybe there’d been a chance to start over, but after Antonio was shot, he was afraid that boat had sailed.
“I want to say no, that it’s okay, that I’m not afraid of Jeremy Brewster anymore. But that would be a lie.” Gracie’s voice trailed off, and she lowered her head into her hands, her shoulders shaking. Nick knew she was crying, and his chest tightened with each sob. He couldn’t stand the thought of her hurting, and there wasn’t a darned thing he could do about it. Except maybe call Calvin and have him check out everything he could find on one Jeremey Brewster, currently incarcerated at Huntsville Prison in the great state of Texas.
Though he was half a world away, there wasn’t anything Calvin couldn’t find out if he wanted. Information was king, and Grant Calvin held the title of the biggest information broker the Australian Secret Intelligence Organization ever had. And with Nick providing a little extra push, he knew Calvin would start digging.
Jeremy Brewster better decide that Shiloh Springs was a little too hot to handle, if he did manage to get paroled, because Gracie Medeiros had just gotten a guardian angel, and his name was Nick Vincent.
“Have you foundhim?”
The mechanical sounding voice on the other end of the line wasn’t a machine. It was the way he spoke after an accident caused irreparable damage to his throat. The automated cadence still sent shivers down their spine, but failing in the mission scared them even more.
“You were right. He’s in Shiloh Springs, Texas, with those Boudreaus he seems to fancy.”
“Can you get to him? Eliminate the problem?”
A bead of sweat trickled down their brow and dripped into their eye, causing it to burn. They hated Texas and everything about it, and wanted to come home. This job was ruining their life, and not for the first time, they wished they’d never agreed to this terrible folly.
“He’s never alone. We can’t afford to make another mistake. That’s a sure way to get caught.”
The silence on the other end stretched interminably long. Finally, there was a sigh.
“I agree, no more mistakes. Grant Calvin has already been sniffing around, digging through the computer files of all Vincent’s old cases. Sooner or later he might get lucky and put two and two together. Very well, keep watch on Vincent. Make him suffer. A little psychological torment never hurt anybody.” Laughing at the joke, they again wished they’d never taken this assignment. But the money had been too big a temptation, with the freedom it would bring.
“I’ll figure out a way to surveil him. I doubt he’s going anywhere. He’s too enamored of the older Boudreaus. That may be our in. Take out the parental figures and cause misdirection. In the ensuing chaos, Nick Vincent should be an easy target.”
“Keep me posted. I expect to hear good news soon.”
The abrupt disconnection had them gritting their teeth, and banging their fists against the wall of the hotel room. A tiny place with dingy walls, a bathroom that should require a Haz-Mat suit to enter, and a bed they were almost afraid to sleep in. Picking a place outside of Shiloh Springs might have been the wisest choice, but lying down and out of sight still rankled. They might not be able to afford five-star luxury—yet—but finishing this job had moved up to priority one.
Nick Vincent had to die.