33. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ETHAN
“ W hy aren’t you answering your phone?” Beckett calls, sprinting toward me.
My chest tightens at the distress in her voice.
“Shit,” I say, patting my pockets. “I must have left it at the restaurant.”
She stops in front of me, sucking in air. “Kinzie. She’s at the restaurant too, right?”
I nod, but before I can ask why, she grabs me by the arm.
“Change of plans. The FBI just released a picture of Everett Knight. He’s Hernandez’s assassin.” She tosses me her phone. The man on the screen looks to be in his fifties. He’s got light bronze skin and silver hair. “My dad said his target is Oliver Newman, a.k.a. Derrick Brooks, Tessa’s husband.”
It takes a few seconds for my brain to catch up with what she’s telling me. When it does, my stomach bottoms out. “Derrick? He’s the witness?”
She nods.
“But Derrick left. He and Tessa are in—” I snap my mouth shut. Tessa is Derrick’s wife. Tessa works for the FBI. She must have known all this. And she and Kinzie are twins. They look exactly alike.
That’s why Tessa didn’t want Kinzie going back to her house.
The assassin won’t know the difference between them.
“Fuck,” I say, picking up the pace. “Are they at least tracking this guy?”
“He was last seen about a mile north of Bay Bridge, but that was an hour ago. My dad said the FBI won’t give us much information. They’re worried we’ll interfere with their investigation.” She heaves in a deep breath and lets it out again. “I assume they know exactly where he is, or at a minimum, where he’s going.”
“Their house.” That’s why Tessa and Derrick took off last night.
“Mullens wants us to stay with Kinzie until they have him in custody.”
At Four Oysters, I find my phone right where I left it. I’ve got one missed call from Kinzie from only a few minutes ago. Pocketing the device, I scan the people milling around, but when I don’t see her outside, I rush into the restaurant.
As I barrel through the door, I run straight into Logan, who stumbles back and falls into the hostess.
“Whoa,” he says, grasping the young woman to keep her from falling to the floor.
“Holy crap,” she breathes out, bringing a hand to her chest.
“What’s going on?” Logan grumbles.
“Kinzie. Where is she?” I survey the restaurant, but I don’t see her anywhere.
“Kinzie? I haven’t seen her in a while. Is everything okay?”
Andy, who’s passing us with a tray full of food, stops.
“Kinzie? She just left. Said she needed to grab something from her sister’s house.” He looks at his watch. “She should be back soon.”
My stomach drops and my chest twists into a painful knot.
“I’ll call it in,” Beckett says, stepping outside.
I turn and follow, then take off down the sidewalk, ignoring my brothers as they call after me. Beckett is talking to dispatch, but she remains right on my heels.
The phone rings four times before Kinzie’s voicemail picks up. “Fuck,” I curse under my breath. It’s been five minutes since her missed call, and right now, every goddamn minute counts.
“My dad said the FBI has an agent parked down the street. Kinzie was seen going inside about fifteen minutes ago, but nobody else has gone in or out in the last hour,” Beckett huffs, struggling to keep up with me.
When Tessa’s house comes into view, we split up. She takes the front while I cut across the neighbor’s yard and head toward the back.
The sliding glass door is wide open as I approach. Somebody was in a hurry. I can only hope they’re still inside. Carefully, I pull my gun from its holster and hold it close as I scan the living room from outside the door. When I don’t see anyone, I extend my arm and peer around the corner. Other than the sunlight streaming through the windows and doorway, the room is dim. There’s no movement from where I stand, so I step over the threshold. On the table to one side is a pair of black-rimmed sunglasses folded up next to a vase full of fresh-cut flowers.
“Tate, she’s not here. The house is empty and all the rooms have been cleared,” Beckett says, her voice echoing off the walls. “Front door was locked, but the side door that leads into the laundry room was open.”
I lift the sunglasses and study them. Dammit. There’s no doubt these are Kinzie’s. As I turn them one way, then the other, something falls from the rim and clinks to the floor. Crouching, I snag the thin silver object from the floor.
Beckett gasps. “Is that what I think it is?”
My heart lurches. I drop the needle to the table, spin around, and run back out the way I came in. There’s no way Kinzie would go willingly. Not if she had anything to say about it.
From the patio, I scan the backyard, searching for every viable escape route. They wouldn’t have gone the way I came. It’s too exposed to the public. But…my stomach sinks. They couldn’t have gone in the other direction either. There’s a six-foot fence separating the yard from the neighbor’s. The only way out is through the yard directly behind this one, and that leads straight to the parade.
“FBI is en route,” Beckett calls.
I’m already running. This fucking bastard will not get away. He thinks he can hide in plain sight, but he has another thing coming.