Chapter 7
THOMAS
As soon as Nadia locked the bathroom door, Thomas activated another burner phone and tapped out James’s number with a sick feeling in his gut.
The moment Kane told him about Ruiz’s escape, he’d been wanting to call his brother James himself.
The siege on his house happening within hours of Ruiz’s escape couldn’t be coincidental.
There was no way in hell. Today’s events had been planned well in advance.
Who else had they attacked? Who died today?
He needed to hear James’s voice. He wanted proof of life and prayed James and his family, their mother included, were safe.
As an afterthought, he prayed the same for Phil.
Phil was the reason they were in this mess, having once made Thomas’s days a waking nightmare by exposing every employee of Donato Enterprises who touched that money to the risk of being indicted on trafficking conspiracy charges.
Thomas couldn’t stand his half-brother. But he would never wish Phil dead. He was family. Unfortunately.
He added his older half-brother to his list of calls.
The new phone felt foreign in his hand, a reminder of how quickly his world had unraveled. He pressed the device to his ear where it rang three times before voicemail picked up. “James Donato here. Drop a message.”
The sound of his brother’s voice made him homesick for better days.
“James, it’s urgent. Call when you get this.
” He rattled off his new number and paused with a rough swipe of his hand through his hair.
“I’m sure you’ve seen the news. Be careful.
Watch your back, and don’t let your boys or Natalya from your sight.
” He ended the call and exhaled sharply.
If only James had answered his call for once, he wouldn’t be so worried.
But other than a smattering of texts, Thomas hadn’t spoken with his brother in four years.
Next, he called Claire. A memory surfaced as he waited for his mother to answer, her absolute disgust with him when he’d confessed to faking James’s death.
After Aimee had found him in Mexico, Thomas went to her house to share the news before she heard it from someone else.
She’d raged at him. How could he have deceived his own mother?
Claire was a cold, unfeeling woman, but he’d never seen her so unhinged.
She tore apart his father’s den, a room she’d barely been able to enter since Edgar had passed.
At the time, James had believed he was Jamie Carlos Dominguez because of his dissociative fugue, and the news that her youngest son was still alive had devastated Claire.
At the advice of her physician, she’d checked into Serenity, a luxury wellness retreat and renewal center.
Then, under the guise of an American tourist, she’d rented a home next door to Carlos.
Thomas had begged her not to interfere. He’d pleaded for her not to engage for the sake of James—rather Carlos and his sons’ safety. She hadn’t listened. She wanted to meet her grandchildren. She at least was mindful not to let on who she really was.
But once James’s original identity resurfaced and he returned home, only to eventually move permanently to Kauai, she decided at that point to punish Thomas.
Claire held a majority stake in Donato Enterprises and colluded with the board of directors to terminate his employment contract.
Just like that, he was ousted from the company he’d been trained to operate from a young age.
Just as well. The company Uncle Grant had launched had been on the brink of bankruptcy since the day the government raided their offices.
Donato Enterprises’ reputation never recovered once the news was out that the company was part of the Hidalgo Cartel’s network.
It didn’t matter that Thomas had been working with the feds to help undermine the cartel from the inside. The damage had been done.
Now Thomas worried Fernando Ruiz’s escape and today’s attempt on his life would further trigger Claire’s revulsion towards him. She’d never understood his reason for faking James’s death, that he’d been protecting their family. And she’d never forgiven him.
She was going to blame him for today.
A robotic recording answered. “You’ve reached the voicemail box of…” Pause. “Claire Donato.” Pause. “Please leave a message at the tone.”
He spoke with forced steadiness. “It’s Thomas. Call me. I need to know you’re okay.” He recited his new number and disconnected.
Phil was next and he didn’t answer the phone either. Thomas left a brief message and his new number. It shouldn’t surprise him that nobody picked up. But he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was missing something about their absence.
He called Kane Mitchell again. In all the years they’d worked together, Kane had never let him down—not when they were setting up James in his new life in Mexico, not during the endless depositions and court appearances throughout the cartel leader’s trial, not even when Thomas had been pushed out of his own company.
Kane was methodical, thorough, and—most importantly—he understood the stakes.
Thomas needed that steady hand now more than ever.
“It’s Thomas,” he said when the special agent answered.
“Whose number are you calling from?”
“Mine. It’s temporary. We ditched our phones.”
“Got it. Did you make it to the house?”
“About twenty minutes ago.” Thomas checked his watch.
“Nadia still with you?”
“Yes. Did you reach James?”
“No. But I got in touch with my counterpart at the FBI and they’ll contact local law enforcement about checking on their property.”
“My mother?”
“No luck there.”
His muscles seized with alarm. “Did they send anyone out?” Claire lived in a gated community of luxury townhomes. But his worries didn’t ease. It wasn’t difficult to find a way into the community.
“They did and she wasn’t home. We’re taking the attack against you very seriously.
We’ll keep trying to reach her. We’ve got people watching her house too.
Now let’s talk about yours since I’ve got you on the phone.
Law enforcement has been out there all day collecting evidence.
Tell me everything you remember about the attack. Every detail, no matter how small.”
Thomas roughed up his hair and paced the room, recounting every moment. Kane peppered him with questions, taking notes. Thomas knew the drill. He spent years relaying information to Kane. The special agent ate details for breakfast. The most trivial item could lead to a break in a case.
“All right,” Kane said when he felt Thomas had exhausted every angle. “We’ll cross-reference this with the evidence that’s been gathered. It might give us a lead on where Ruiz is headed or what he’s planning next.”
“Was it just my place shot up today?” He couldn’t be the only one the cartel was after. Donato Enterprises hadn’t been the only business raided all those years ago.
“I can’t report on that yet.”
“Kane—”
“Tom, you understand how these things work. I’m limited on what I can share with you when there’s an active investigation.
We’re doing everything we can to get Ruiz back in custody.
Every federal and local law enforcement agency is actively working on this case.
We’ll do our best to track down your mother. ”
“My brother too. Check on Phil. I haven’t been able to reach him either.”
“Got it. Stay safe and don’t leave the house. Keep your phone on you. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ended and Thomas tried his mother again.
Still no answer. Feeling uneasy, he completed another circuit of the house, double checking locks and sight lines.
The neighborhood was quiet with families tucked away in their homes for the night, the street dark except for a smattering of porch lights.
A car slowed in front of the house and turned into the driveway across from them, pulling into the garage.
Thomas waited until the garage door closed again before he moved away from the front window.
Everything seemed secure and he was confident they hadn’t been followed, but the knot in his stomach refused to loosen.
It wouldn’t until he knew James and Claire were safe.
At least Nadia was with him. Close enough to reach for, protect. He’d be out of his mind with worry if she’d gone home. Though, having her here came with its own torment.
He glanced at his watch and frowned. Fifty minutes had gone by and she hadn’t returned. She’d been in the bathroom for a long time. Too long. The house was too quiet.
He pictured the narrow bathroom with the high window he’d poked his head into when he first checked the house and swore under his breath. The burner phone. She better not have called an Uber and slipped out the window.
Concern gnawing at him, he headed down the hallway.