Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THEY SLIPPED INTO SAVANNAH, sticking to the back streets as they drove under the gradual thickening of the oak canopy overhead and Spanish moss drifting from branches like the ghosts of something that had never quite let go.
The city held a rich history of ghosts and spooky happenings, and Elvis only hoped that’s not why Delaney and Blaze had chosen it.
He didn’t need the extra headache of something jumping out at him.
The King might’ve believed in ghosts, but Elvis didn’t want to find out if his belief was valid or not.
He drove with one hand loose on the wheel and his eyes darting between the road ahead and the side mirror every thirty seconds.
It was a habit he had picked up when on missions.
Anyone watching would merely think he was checking the roads, but he knew better, especially with what happened while helping Callen and Meaghan a few weeks back.
He had no intention of being ambushed again.
Beside him, Delaney had fallen quiet an hour ago. By the way she held herself, her shoulders carrying too much tension, he knew she wasn’t asleep. No, he knew this quietness was her way of processing and preparing for what lay ahead. It was a silence he understood better than most.
As he crossed the Talmadge Memorial Bridge, the Savannah River stretching wide beneath them as the city lights gathered on the far bank, Blaze’s message came through: the house on Whitmore Avenue is ready. Keys are under the mat, and the camera’s live.
He didn’t read it out loud, not wanting to disturb her thoughts, knowing she could use another few minutes of quietness.
Right after Blaze’s text, he received one from Dane, which he read before sending his phone to sleep.
“You’re popular,” Delaney said without glancing over, shifting slightly in her seat.
He smiled at her. “Just people making sure everything’s all right.”
They came off the bridge and into the old downtown grid, streets narrowing under the shadow of ancient trees, the squares opening up like green rooms between buildings.
The city smelled of salt and river and something faintly floral that he couldn’t name.
It felt nothing like Mississippi or any other place he had ever visited or been forced to endure while on assignment.
And that was probably the point. From what he could tell, Blaze had chosen well where to set the trap.
“Almost there,” he told her.
She stirred slightly, straightening in the passenger seat and pressing her fingertips to the window for a moment before pulling them back.
Her head was on a swivel, taking in everything as they passed.
“It’s gorgeous,” she whispered, leaning closer to the window.
“I’ve always wanted to visit this place. ”
He chuckled, making a slow bob of his head as he glanced at the scenery as they drove by. “Blaze has taste when it counts, but don’t tell him I said that.”
Her mouth curved faintly as she glanced over at him. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want your tough-guy image to get tarnished.”
“Exactly.”
He turned south off Abercorn and wound through a neighborhood of restored Federal-style houses set close to the sidewalk, front stoops flanked by cast-iron railings, window boxes still carrying the last of summer.
The house on Whitmore sat at the end of a short block, a narrow two-story painted the color of old bone, with green shutters and a wrought-iron gate standing open just enough to suggest welcome without meaning it.
Elvis circled the block twice before he parked.
Another old habit. He checked the street in both directions, taking in the neighbor’s porch light on the right, a dog somewhere behind the left house, and every car parked on the street, wondering if it actually belonged there. He stared at it, waiting and watching.
Nothing moved, however.
He killed the engine and reached for the door handle. “Stay put while I look around. Keep the doors locked.”
Delaney reached out and caught his wrist before he could open the door. “Bobby…”
He offered her a smile as he patted her hand. “It’s all right. Just want to take a quick look around before you step outside.”
She gave a curt nod as she released her grip.
He took four minutes to walk the perimeter, double checking that everything was as it should be.
The gate latch showed no signs of tampering, and the rear courtyard was small and walled in old brick, a single gate facing the back alley he found padlocked and secure.
The windows on the ground floor all had the secondary locks Blaze favored—visible from inside and invisible from out.
He found the cameras where Blaze had some friends of Melinda’s, three of them, angles overlapping, leaving no dead zones.
He found the key under the mat and pocketed it. Then he went back for Delaney.
To his annoyance, she had gotten out of the car while he was gone and now stood on the sidewalk with her arms folded and her eyes tracking the same street he had just walked.
It shouldn’t have surprised him that she was doing her own assessment without being asked. It was her life on the line, after all.
“Everything looks clear,” he told her. “We should get our stuff and out of sight.”
She nodded and followed him in.
The house was simply furnished, and the faint chemical smell of cleaning supplies filled the air.
A quick walk-through revealed two bedrooms upstairs, a narrow kitchen that opened to the back courtyard, and a sitting room at the front with windows that looked out onto the street through the shutters at an angle that let you see without being seen.
It appeared Blaze had thought of everything.
Speaking of, his phone buzzed: We’re pulling up in ten. From what I can tell, Leon’s about an hour or so away. Do you think he’ll try something tonight?
He showed the text to Delaney.
She read it and handed the phone back to him. “It’s a good question. Do you?”
“He may have figured out you’re in town, but he doesn’t know where, so we keep it that way until tomorrow. It’ll give us a chance to get some rest and set up where we want him to find you. It’s better if we choose the location.”
She sighed, and he could see the frustration on her face.
He reached out, sliding a hand down her arm. “We both could use the rest after that drive. Let’s just get settled and then we’ll see about something to eat. Hopefully, Blaze had whoever cleaned the place stock it with food as well.”
He watched as she eased her way through the first floor, her arms folded over her chest so that she touched nothing. She took the measure of the place as if she knew she wouldn’t be there long. This was just a stop among many.
He set his bag down near the sofa and then moved to lean against the kitchen doorframe, watching her. “You doing all right?”
She nodded. “Do you know who he placed this house under?” she asked, running her finger along the edge of the kitchen counter without looking at him.
He shrugged. “Some consulting firm out of Atlanta. Fictitious of course. Paper trail goes back about eight months or so.”
She gave a slow bob of her head. “Credible.”
“Like I said, he knows what he’s doing.”
She turned then, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed, eyes moving over his face the way she had been doing more often since the cabin, like she was checking for something she hadn’t found yet, or maybe verifying something she had.
“You know Leon is just the arms of this, right? He’s not the head, and this won’t stop until we get the head. ”
He nodded, one hand in his pocket. “I know, but we can only deal with one problem at a time. Blaze has his girl looking into where Matteo is right now, and if we’re lucky, your marshal friend will have a bead on his location for us.”
“And then we’ll go after him?”
Her face was pale, and he could see the determination mixed with fear on her face. “That’s the plan.”
She exhaled through her nose, a sound that told him she had made peace with her decision, which was good, because it was too late to take it back.
“I want to be there when we take him down,” she said, standing taller.
He stared at her for a moment, his lips pressed into a determined line. “We’ll talk about that when the time comes.”
“Don’t manage me.”
“I’d never dream of it.” He pushed off the doorframe and crossed toward her, stopping when he was close enough that she had to tilt her chin to hold his gaze.
“All I’m doing is asking for the same thing you asked me back at the cabin.
Trust the process. Going after people like Matteo is my world, not yours. ”
She worked her jaw like she wanted to argue with him, and then he saw her shoulders relax just a fraction. “All right, I’ll wait until then. But know that my mind’s made up.”
He smiled at her as he leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”
Then they heard the front gate creak.
Elvis’s hand moved before conscious thought completed, his palm going to the grip of the weapon at his hip, body shifting to put himself between Delaney and the door.
Then Donovan’s voice reached them from just outside. “How about opening the door? This shit your friend has me lugging in is heavy.”
Elvis exhaled and dropped his hand before moving to open the door.
Delaney let out a breath as well, which told him she’d been holding it. He didn’t blame her. He’d been holding his as well.
Donovan came in first, eyes moving through the room the same way Elvis had on arrival. Elvis was glad to see the man had the same instincts and habits, even if it was from a different training. Donovan then moved over to the wall and set down the storage tub he had carried in.
Blaze followed the marshal, laptop bag over one shoulder, a tablet already lit in his other hand as he moved to the kitchen table. “What? You haven’t made coffee yet?”
Elvis rolled his eyes, but Delaney simply giggled. “I’ll get a pot started,” she said.
“Thanks,” Blaze said as he set his stuff on the table. He then turned to Elvis. “Looks like our boy made a stop.” He dropped into the chair closest to the window.
Elvis straightened. “Where?”
“Some cheap motel off I-16. He’s about thirty-two minutes out.
” He turned the tablet toward them, showing some data Elvis couldn’t make out.
“He made two calls, both of which were to someone in Nassau County, which is in Florida. Burner phone, so probably disposed of already.” He looked at Delaney.
“Looks like the second layer of your plan is live. Julia Moretti just got her first email inquiry.”
The name hung in the air for a moment, Elvis cutting a quick glance to Delaney. Her expression didn’t change, though, as her hand found the edge of the counter behind her.
“From whom?” she asked.
“Some shell entity we’ve seen before,” Blaze told her. “Savannah-registered, but recent. Seems to be tied to three other companies that trace back to a law firm in Nassau County.”
Donovan’s jaw tightened as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Serrano’s legal infrastructure.”
Blaze nodded. “Matteo didn’t ping directly. The man’s too careful for that it seems. However, he did send someone to knock on the door, which tells me he believes you’re real and finally out of hiding.”
Donovan nodded. “He may think you figured enough time had passed. It wouldn’t track with how we run things, but he might think you got fed up with hiding, which is exactly what we want him to think.”
She glanced at the marshal for a moment, and Elvis could see her contemplating his words. She then looked at Blaze. “So the hook is in.”
The younger man gave a curt nod as he leaned back in his chair, grinning widely. “The hook is in.”
Elvis watched her absorb it, noticing the moment the thing she set in motion had become undeniable. This wasn’t theory anymore or anything they could take back. The predator had responded, and the trap was open.
She straightened, pushing away from the counter. “Then we wait until tomorrow and see what happens.” She gave a curt nod as she rubbed at her upper arms. “I think I’m going to wash up.”
Elvis watched her as she left the kitchen and moved to the stairs. He could feel the fear rippling off her, but knew there was no stopping what she had set in motion. They had to follow through with this.
He moved to the front room to stand in front of the bay window, hands in his pockets.
Outside, the Spanish moss stirred in the evening wind, moving the way things did in Savannah, with a slow, easy pace, as if time had learned patience from the city’s bones.
Somewhere on the next block, a church bell counted out the hour, and for the first time since they had shuffled Delaney out of the casino, Elvis felt the balance shift.
They weren’t running anymore.
They were waiting. And planning.
And the difference between those two things was everything.