Chapter 19
“I’ve got the report on the five dead tangos.” Garrett dropped a stack of papers on the table.
“All the trees,” Linc muttered. “You’re a computer guy and you still print shit out. Digital. Save a tree, would ya?”
Normally I’d find the banter in the conference room amusing, especially when Lincoln Parker, the man who owned three motorcycles, an Excursion, a boat, and a motorhome starts in on saving the trees—the irony is never lost on the room.
But so much today.
Johnson was due to be at Z Corps any minute and Bridget was in the building.
Having Jonas guard our room didn’t make me feel any better. I didn’t want Johnson anywhere near Bridget.
“They don’t know she’s here,” Garrett told me, obviously reading my mood.
“I know but—”
“No buts. No one’s going to take her. This is a friendly meeting to share intel. That’s it.”
He was right. That was what this meeting was supposed to be, but I couldn’t shake the dread that had coated my skin since I’d woken up.
Not to mention, the last time I saw Johnson it was the day he’d picked her up and taken her away.
I had no desire to remember that day or to see the man ever again.
The meeting would take less than an hour. Then Johnson would be out of the building and I’d be able to breathe.
An hour.
“What’d you find?” Linc asked about the tangos.
“All five worked for Dusk. The one in the ghillie suit, Dave Sampson, spent six years in the army before he got out and went back to Utah and started working at the mine. The other four don’t have service records, nothing to indicate they had any business being there, but all five are in debt out their asses and probably thought taking out a woman and her bodyguard would be easy money. ”
There was no such thing as easy money.
One way or another you were earning it.
“What was his MOS?” Linc asked.
“25C. Radio Operator.”
“Sorry we’re late, traffic was a bitch,” Easton announced as he entered the conference room and plopped down in the chair next to me.
“Who’s a radio operator?” Cash asked.
“The ghillie suit guy,” I told him and watched his face go hard.
“When’s Johnson going to be here?” Easton looked around the room waiting for an answer.
“Zane’s walking him up now,” Linc said, staring at his phone. “Deputy Caraway’s with him and a force multiplier named Gilbert Shaw.”
The Marshals used force multipliers when needed to enhance or help on a task force, apprehension, or warrant service. Sometimes these multipliers were local law enforcement, sometimes they were contractors such as Z Corps, like when we were hired to guard Bridget.
“What the fuck?” I looked at Garrett. “Did you clear this guy?”
“Had no idea Johnson was bringing a friend.”
That coating of dread thickened.
Before anything further could be said, Zane walked in the room with a face full of thunder.
Johnson didn’t look all that comfortable and Caraway looked like he was miffed.
“What’s going on?” I inquired.
“May we sit?” Johnson asked instead of answering me.
Zane’s gaze sliced to Johnson and he shook his head.
“Not sure that’s necessary at this point.”
I watched as Johnson’s mouth got tight and his brows pinched together.
“Goddamn, Lewis. It’s not like you don’t know we contract out. Hell, you’ve been used in the same capacity a time or two before.”
I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, though I could guess.
Zane didn’t like surprises. None of us did, but they sent Zane into a rage when he thought someone was trying to play him. And that was what surprises were to him—sneak attacks to one-up him.
“I don’t know this guy.”
“Zane—”
“I don’t know this guy,” Zane repeated.
“I told you his name is Gil Shaw and he works for Eagle.”
“This means shit to me, Johnson.”
Caraway shifted uncomfortably, looking between Lincoln and Zane.
Thankfully, Garrett moved the conversation to the reason Johnson had been called in.
“What can you tell me about Albert Goodman and Bryan Goodman?”
Johnson sighed and leaned into his hand resting on the back of the chair in front of him, obviously resigning himself to standing.
“I don’t know Albert Goodman, but Bryan works for the AG’s office. Same last name so I’m assuming there’s a relation.”
“What about you, Deputy Caraway?” Garrett pushed. “Do you know Albert or Bryan?”
Caraway shook his head. “Heard the name Bryan Goodman but never met him personally.”
“I don’t know either of them,” Gil offered without being asked.
“Why would I think you know them?” Garrett examined. “Unless Eagle has contracts with the DOJ.”
Instead of answering, Gil turned to Johnson. “I thought you said they had information on Bridget Keller?”
Garrett didn’t let Johnson reply.
“What about Phil Lancaster?”
“Phil Lancaster? The other pilot on Bridget’s team,” Caraway returned. “We’ve been looking for him, too, with no luck. Do you have his location?”
Gil’s hand balled into a fist before he shoved it into his pocket. I glanced at Easton. His gaze was fixated on Gil. I looked to Cash, casually lounging back in his chair looking like he didn’t have a care in the world but his eyes were sharp on Gil.
They felt it, too.
Something was off.
“Jefferson County morgue,” Garrett answered.
At that news, Johnson dropped his head forward and muttered, “Fuck.”
“How long has he been dead?” Caraway inquired.
“Ten days.”
Gil’s jaw tightened, just a fraction but that small movement said a lot.
“ME says he had fibers and hair from the body,” I lied. “We should have that report in the next day or two. We’ll pass it along when we get it if you want.”
“I’ll call the medical examiner’s office.” Caraway brushed off my offer.
“We used a private lab. Faster that way.”
Gil could barely conceal his agitation. He no longer wanted to be here and he proved me correct when he boldly and stupidly announced, “Since you don’t have any information on Bridget Keller’s whereabouts we’re wasting our time here.”
“Who said we didn’t know where Bridget Keller was?” Easton asked. “But we’re not done talking about Phil yet. Did you know he was blackmailing Kathy Cobbs?”
Gil’s shoulders stiffened and his left eye twitched.
“Who?”
“Johnson, pal, bud, I’m not impressed,” Zane drawled. “You didn’t do your homework.”
“Cut this shit, Zane. Our scope of work was limited to the case. I don’t have the luxury of running down every rabbit hole.”
“What about you, Gil? Do you know Kathy Cobbs, Senior VP of Dusk? Albert Goodman’s mother-in-law.”
No sooner had Garrett finished his question than Gil’s demeanor changed completely. His nerves were getting the best of him. He started to pull his hand out of his pocket, thought better of it, and shoved it back in.
“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” he lied.
Surprisingly, it was Caraway who put it together.
“Kathy Cobbs? Is her husband Cornelius Caine Cobbs of C3 Enterprises? Eagle does their security.” Caraway paused, then asked, “What did Phil have on Kathy?”
“Drone footage he took of Kathy present at the murder of one of the Dusk employees.”
Caraway nodded.
“Why do you think this ties back to Bridget?”
“Phil used Bridget’s personal drone when he took the footage. Her name’s on the timestamp,” I explained to Caraway but kept my eyes pinned on Gil. “That, and because the man who attacked Bridget asked her what else she saw as he was attempting to choke the life out of her.”
Brown hair. Brown eyes. Athletic build.
Gil Shaw had brown hair and brown eyes.
I took in the asshole now squirming under my scrutiny.
Button-up dress shirt, no tie but only the top button undone. Dark blue jeans that looked like they’d been ironed. I let my gaze continue down to his sissy ass shiny loafers that I had no doubt he paid someone to shine.
Brown suede loafers with tassels .
But it was the gum wrapper next to his shoe that caught my attention.
Spicy breath.
Fucking hell.
“Hey, One,” I called. “Toss me a piece of gum, would you?”
I pushed back from the table and out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of the honeycomb rubber sole of a little boy’s shoe under the table.
Goddamn, motherfucking shit.
One or both of Linc’s boys were in the room.
“You know what? Never mind.”
I slowly eased myself to my feet, glancing from Garrett to the table.
Understanding dawned.
Unfortunately, at the worst time imaginable, Kira Winters Cain came bouncing into the room.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were in a meeting.”
She turned to leave. Gil’s hand shot out and grabbed her ponytail. He yanked Kira in front of him and pressed the barrel of his gun to her temple.
Eight men immediately drew their weapons.
Everyone in the room now stood facing Gil holding Kira hostage.
“This is how this is gonna go,” Gil sneered. “Get me Bridget and you can have this one back.”
Kira’s eyes narrowed and slowly cut through the room landing on Zane. “This was not how my first day back from my honeymoon was supposed to go. And since when do we allow guns in the conference room?”
“You can take this to read the US Marshal Service is no longer on the approved carry list, Johnson,” Zane quipped.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Caraway snarled. “Drop your gun and let the woman go.”
“Get me Bridget!” Gil shouted and Kira winced.
“Garrett, go get her,” Zane ordered.
I knew the play, yet my insides still burned at the thought. Garrett would never bring Bridget back to the room but the mere thought of this motherfucker getting his hands on her again made me insane with fury.
“Sure.” Garrett made his way toward the door.
Gil moved closer to the table, taking Kira with him.
The goddamn table two little boys were hiding under.
Christ, I couldn’t even look at her.
Kira.
Our Kira.
Finn’s baby sister.
Cooper’s wife.
Where the hell was Cooper? We were totally fucked if he came into the room. Our only hope of coming out of this without two emotionally damaged children and Kira still breathing was if her husband didn’t rush into the room.
“Hey, Linc, she’s still playing hide and seek with the boys, right?” Garrett asked.
Linc’s neck twitched right before he turned to stone.
No one would mention his boys without reason.
“Fuck,” he grunted.
“Right, I’ll go get her.” Garrett slipped out of the room.
“Brother,” Linc started but got no more out.
Lincoln Parker was a legendary operator. Before that, he’d been a Navy SEAL. The man was known for his cold detachment but right then he was a father whose children were in harm’s way and that detachment was nowhere in sight.
Not that I blamed him.
I couldn’t find mine either.
“Why is no one shooting this fucker?” Kira complained.
Gil violently shook Kira, taking an already volatile situation and ratcheting it up five million degrees when she cried out in pain.
“Listen, asshole, the gun to my head is enough. You don’t need to treat me like a rag doll.”
“Kira, quiet, babe.”
Her gaze came to me and she scowled. “I’m the one with the gun to my head. I get to say whatever the hell I want to say.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Gil shouted.
Kira winced again.
I had a clear shot. I could end this now and pay for Robbie and Asher’s therapy for the next twenty years when Gil’s lifeless body fell and they saw their first death.
Or I could miss, bullets start flying, and one of the twins got hit and Linc and Jasmin lose a son.
Or Kira gets hit and Cooper’s a widower after a week of marriage.
I wouldn’t miss.
I’d pay for therapy.
I could end this now for all of us .
My finger slowly slid down the trigger. I felt the bend of the smooth metal under my fingertip and hoped Linc forgave me.
I never got the chance to pull the trigger.
Gil howled in pain and dropped the gun away from Kira’s head.
Pandemonium ensued.
Kira drove an elbow back into Gil’s gut, pushed away, and ran for the door. Johnson tackled Gil, Caraway kicked Gil’s gun across the room, and Lincoln Parker dove under the table to get to his boys.
I took in the room, not understanding what the fuck just happened that made Gil drop his gun but also knowing I didn’t give the first fuck.
My eyes caught on Easton. “You got this?”
“Fuck yeah,” he growled.
I took off in a full sprint. Not bothering with the elevator, I hit the stairs and took them three at a time down to the basement. I ran down the hall, turned the corner, and came face-to-face with Jonas pointing his gun directly at me.
“Clear upstairs? Kira good?” he asked and lowered his gun.
“Clear,” I huffed. “She’s fine. Cooper’s going to be pissed as fuck so I’m taking the next week off. I’ve got Bridget; you can go up.”
Jonas nodded and moved away from the door.
Then I took the precious time needed to put Bridget at ease and knocked five times before I opened the door.
I found Bridget pacing the room.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes.”
I stalked across the room.
“You sure? You looked—”
“Like a man who gets to take his woman home?” I interjected the truth.
“It’s over?”
“Yes.”
“I’m free?”
“One more deal to make next week, then it’s over.”
“Really?”
Her smile was so huge it was blinding.
“Really.”
Bridget launched herself at me. She wrapped her legs around my waist and peppered my face with kisses. That was sweet but I wanted more.
“Mouth, baby.”
She pulled back, looked down, and grinned.
“Take me home, Theo.”
That was the plan…
After I got my kiss.
I slid one hand off her ass, up her back, fisted her hair, and brought her mouth down to mine.
“I get to go home,” she muttered against my lips.
Indeed she did.