Chapter Twelve #4
Five.
Of.
Them.
Instinctually, he put his hand over his gun and stood up. His head whipped around, trying to figure out where that sound had come from since it was so damn loud.
That’s when it hit him.
It was coming from down the street in the direction that Gene had gone.
Since his partner was unarmed, that made Ethan want to freak out.
Leaving everything behind, he raced out of the café, heading toward the sound.
Because he didn’t think it was a coincidence.
Someone, his man, had gotten himself into some shit.
And that scared him stupid.
* * * Blackhawk & Cantrell * * *
Philadelphia, PA
Greyson’s Condo
When the call came in from his boss, he was as giddy as a schoolgirl. Oh, normally, the last person you wanted ringing your phone was the boss, but this time…
Yeah, it was going to be the kind of call that tickled Greyson pink.
And it was.
Like he’d hoped, Gabe had authorized picking up Sasha, AKA Daphne Carmichael, to bring her in for transport back to DC for a meeting with Gabe.
Oh, the shit was going to cover that woman so much so that she’d never dig out.
And he loved that for her.
Someone had dropped the spying ball, embarrassing the fuck out of Gabe.
Oh, she was not going to enjoy that transport or that meeting.
He’d bet on it.
Then again, knowing how Gabe worked, he’d likely give her some cushy job elsewhere, tucked away with a new identity.
Truthfully, as long as it wasn’t near him, he didn’t give a fuck.
The further away.
The better.
Last night had been the best sleep of his life, knowing that this had to terrify Gabe enough that he just might think twice when it came to screwing around.
Hopefully, the nasty was going to be out of his sight.
By nasty, he meant that particular redhead.
The whole call with Gabe had been the BEST call he’d ever had with him. It was exactly what he’d expected. Gabe had authorized a pickup to put her on a jet to DC.
Oh, and Greyson was MORE than happy to be the one to go rub it in her face.
He’d wanted to skip and dance his way to her apartment.
Somehow, he contained himself.
Gabe had told him that he spoke to her, relieving her of her duty there, and that they would be getting a new ME to replace her.
As soon as ‘replacement’ came up, Greyson specifically asked for a man. With all the men in the office, he didn’t want a distraction there.
One that he’d likely succumb to since he clearly had shit taste in women.
Sue him.
He was an idiot.
Luckily, Gabe had promised that, and they’d had a talk about Ethan and Gene. He was going hands off, and had planned on telling both Ethan and Gene that in a personal call to them.
Well, lucky them.
It looked as if he was going to be dealing with that particular devil.
Which was fine.
Gabe…he grew on you, once you learned how to NOT piss him off. Blackhawk and Cantrell pissed him off by just breathing, and their cowboy antics.
That was never good.
Staying under the radar was the first and foremost rule to surviving the tyrannical fist of Gabriel Rothschild.
Hopefully, Gabe going hands off would buy the two men some peace and quiet to focus on other things.
The Javier Hughes situation.
But that was for another time. For now, Greyson had a bird to put in a not-so-gilded cage for transport back to DC.
This was the best part of his week.
Truly.
As he arrived with Antonio Hill to the woman’s apartment, he’d only brought backup so there would be a witness in case she got spicy.
A woman who would lie about deaths and help a mob man be sleazy was not to be trusted. There was no way he was falling down that rabbit hole.
So, his friend joined him.
“I can’t believe we’re losing our ME,” Antonio said. “It was nice while it lasted.”
Oh, this dude had no idea the bullet they’d dodged. He wouldn’t doubt that she’d turn on each agent there. She was a cop killer in his mind and would never be anything more.
“Well, she was sketchy,” Greyson admitted. “Apparently, she had ties to Hugo Carmichael.”
Antonio gasped.
Had he heard him right?
“WHAT?”
Greyson nodded.
“Yep. Hugo Carmichael the mob man.”
Well, shit.
Antonio was shocked as shit.
“He’s been all over the news. The FBI finally broke a case with him involved. He was killing people and got put in lockup a few months ago.”
Yeah, he was aware.
Greyson kept his voice down.
“Well, she’s tied to him. Sasha, AKA Daphne Carmichael is his ex-wife,” he said, trusting the man.
Antonio stared at him in horror.
“Holy shit. We had a mob man’s ex-wife handling our autopsies? That’s fucking foul!”
Oh, tell him about it.
“Yeah, well, Gabe wants her gone. That’s why we’re picking up and transporting. Thanks for flying out with her.”
He didn’t mind.
“Don’t worry. It’s cool. It’s a fast flight to DC and back,” he admitted. “I can’t believe she slipped by the vetting process. Someone’s losing their job.”
Oh, Antonio was wrong there.
She was likely going to another office to spy for Gabe and make someone else’s life miserable.
Not his problem.
Fortunately.
But if they ever crossed paths again, it would most definitely be Daphne’s problem.
“Well, yeah. Heads will roll,” Greyson said, knowing that was anything but the case.
He and Antonio walked to Daphne’s apartment. It was just a quick walk from his. Boy, would he be glad when she was no longer within the city.
“In here,” Greyson said as they entered the building, flashed their creds at the doorman, and headed toward the elevator.
Greyson hoped she put up a fight. He’d love NOTHING more than to put her in cuffs and give her the walk of shame out of her building by two agents.
That would be a late Christmas present for him.
At the woman’s door, he knocked, and there was no answer. He knew for a fact that Gabe had told her to stay put in her apartment until she was transported.
This was odd.
So, he knocked again.
And again.
When Antonio touched the doorknob, it turned easily in his hand, and both men took a step back.
Uh-oh.
That wasn’t good.
Not.
At.
All.
Instinctually, both men pulled their guns and got ready to access the apartment. In the back of Greyson’s head, he was thinking about how he’d found her, so her ex, Hugo, might have been able to do so too.
Then again, maybe Gabe let that slip as punishment to pay Daphne back for fucking it up.
At this point, who knew?
He’d be lying if he said he hoped that wasn’t the case. Oh, and that he hated himself for feeling bad for her.
“FBI,” Greyson said, using the toe of his boot to push the door open.
And they headed in.
Once inside, they were met with a startling sight, but not the one Greyson had expected.
There was no bloodshed.
The place was empty.
As in, there was not a piece of furniture, not a crumb of food, and certainly not a lying, conniving skank to be found. Daphne didn’t get knocked off by a mob man.
She bailed like the coward she was.
Well, shit.
Gabe was NOT going to be happy.
“It looks like she bailed,” Antonio stated. “Someone is in the wind. I pity the interim director that has to tell him,” he said, meaning Greyson.
Yep.
Him too.
Only, the facts were the facts.
Sasha Harper, AKA the wife of Hugo Carmichael, the mob boss, was in the wind. She’d tucked tail, packed up her shit in record time, and escaped.
She was likely now out in the world, doing who knew what?
Oh, and Gabe was going to be pissed.
Big-time.