Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Lovell, Mantis, and Wesson followed Chad, the head of HICC’s West Coast division, into the main HICC building late the next morning.
They could have exchanged information over the phone, but Mantis and Charley needed to meet with Chad and Sabina about their upcoming wedding.
The affair would be small, but word had gotten out that the former president’s granddaughter was getting married, and the press was already making a fuss.
No one wanted the day disturbed by anyone not specifically invited, so HICC was upping security around the venue—William Warwick’s home.
He had Secret Service, of course, but a few of HICC’s finest would help keep the private event private.
“Ava will meet you in the conference room. Callie is finishing her report to Stella and Hunter on the case she just wrapped up. Once she’s done, she’ll grab Daphne and meet you there,” Chad said.
“Are you joining us?” Wesson asked.
Chad shook his head. “I’ll join Sabina when she meets with Mantis and Charley after. Oh, and Tucker and Teague are out checking the security at the cabin,” he said. The comment about Tucker and Teague, two brothers who worked for the company, didn’t track.
“What cabin?” Lovell asked.
“There you are,” Ava said, the beads of her long braids clinking together as she walked toward them.
“We’re in here,” she said, opening a door.
“Thanks, Chad,” she added. Chad gave a single nod, then headed toward the stairwell.
Lovell followed his brothers in, dropping the question Chad hadn’t answered.
“Callie and Daphne should be here any minute. In the meantime, any coffee? Tea? Coffee?”
Mantis chuckled. “Making up for lost time?”
Ava flashed a smile. “That and taking care of a toddler and twin infants is no joke. We have help, but still, nursing Alec and Zak is nothing like when I had Elijah. I love them more than life, but I swear, if I’d had the twins first, there would definitely not be a third.”
“I’ll go with you,” Mantis said, following her back out.
“Any idea what cabin Chad was talking about?” Lovell asked Wesson, although why he’d know, Lovell didn’t know.
“No clue,” his brother confirmed. “Probably one of the properties the family owns.”
Possibly. The Warwicks were Mystery Lake royalty and owned a not-insignificant percentage of the land in the area.
But he doubted it. They were a tight-knit family, predisposed to protect their privacy, and they definitely weren’t a family that referenced security measures put in place on their own properties as part of a casual conversation.
The question rattled around in his head, and rather than sit, he paced to the window and looked out.
HICC sat on over a thousand acres of land, and the forest filled his view as far as he could see.
Tall pines laden with snow, pristine against the blue sky, a few bare aspens peeking out here and there.
Growing up in New Jersey, he’d seen his fair share of snow, but city snow and mountain snow were very different things.
Cold as fuck either way, but mountain snow had a sort of clean, cheery—deceptively so sometimes—feel to it.
And on a day like today, with the sun shining and glistening off the white blankets, it felt almost magical. Like being in a snow globe.
As he watched, a gust of wind blew through the forest, sending flakes into the air like glitter. He glanced up. The skies were clear as a bell now, but the swirl of the wind hinted at a coming storm.
“We’re getting weather tonight, aren’t we?” he asked.
“Up to seven inches,” Wesson answered. He’d sprawled in one of the chairs, his feet crossed at his ankles in front of him, phone in hand. Probably doing a crossword. He was obsessed with the things.
“The wind will be brutal, too,” he added. Lovell looked over. Without shifting his attention from his phone, Wesson answered his unasked question. “Gusts up to forty miles an hour starting at six tonight. At least it’s not supposed to last long. Should be over by the morning.”
Nice, just what he wanted, a winter storm. As if there wasn’t enough turmoil for him to deal with.
“Hey, guys,” Callie said, entering the room with Daphne on her heels and Mantis and Ava following.
His attention rested on Daphne. She wore the same jeans as the day before but a different shirt and sweater, probably borrowed from her sister.
She might be a few inches taller than Callie, but the two were close enough in height and build that swapping clothes had probably been a regular occurrence growing up.
The sapphire-blue knit suited her. So did the way it hugged her curves.
Then again, Daphne was the kind of woman who could make a burlap sack look good. Her and Marilyn Monroe.
Mantis handed him a coffee. “Thanks,” he mumbled before turning to Daphne. “Everything okay last night?”
“All quiet on the western front,” she replied. Callie slid her an indecipherable look but held her tongue—even though it was obvious she didn’t want to—and took a seat. “How about you?” Daphne asked.
He tipped his head in response. Not really a response, but he wasn’t about to tell her he’d lain awake in bed most of the night, either, picturing her being taken by the two men Daisy had sent or imagining her underneath him. Different brands of hell, but both hell.
“Let’s get started,” Ava said, taking a seat. Lovell pulled out the two chairs to the right of Callie, and Daphne took the one beside her sister as he took the other.
“First,” Ava said. “Some expectation setting. We’ve identified the two men, but we haven’t found a connection to Daisy yet. If it’s there, we will, but I don’t want you to think this is all going to go away today.”
No, he wouldn’t be that lucky.
“So who are they?” Daphne asked.
A picture of the white guy popped up on a large screen at one end of the room.
“Conrad Weeks. Age forty. Grew up outside Trenton, New Jersey. Joined the marines out of high school. Served six years. Wasn’t dishonorably discharged, but there was definitely something not honorable about it.
We’re looking into it. Since then, he’s worked on and off, mostly construction and mechanic jobs.
Has a couple of DUIs, two drunk-and-disorderlies, and three assault charges—two of which were dropped and one he served nineteen months for. ”
“Where does he live now?” Lovell asked.
“He floats up and down the eastern seaboard between New York and Miami,” she answered.
“And the second guy?” Daphne asked.
“Not too much of a different story,” Ava said, changing the picture from Conrad to the second man.
“This is Ronald Beeker. Grew up in Atlanta, very different part of town than where Daisy is from,” she added.
“He’s also fifteen years older than her, clocking in at forty-eight.
He’s had some tussles with the law growing up, but nothing to keep him out of the military.
He joined the army and, like Conrad, served six years before discharging.
Nothing hinky about his, though. He works the same kind of jobs as Conrad.
We haven’t found any overlapping yet, but suspect we will the more we dig.
He’s kept pretty clean with only a couple of speeding tickets in the past fifteen years. ”
“Any idea where they might be now?” Daphne asked.
Ava winced. “They were at the hotel on the north side of town. You know the one with the really thin walls?” she said, directing the question to the general room.
Callie frowned, but he, Mantis, and Wesson nodded.
The club had looked at using the hotel for the extracurricular work they did, helping extract people from abusive relationships.
But the one night Mantis and Dulcie spent there had been enough to have them bag that idea.
Instead, they’d redesigned the clubhouse to add a wing of rooms where the people they helped could stay.
“The one with the doors that open onto the highway?” Daphne asked. Ava nodded. Daphne made a face. “Not a great place to hide.”
“Especially not when you’re driving a stolen car,” Ava said.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Daphne muttered. “And let me guess, it’s been ditched?”
Ave bobbed her head. “Ryan, the chief of police and Chad’s brother, found it this morning down a ravine five miles south of here. Weeks and Beeker tried to burn it, but the flames didn’t take. Not completely. They’re running the prints and DNA.”
“If the prints didn’t lead you to the men, what did?” Callie asked.
“The details about the car Daphne provided. We traced it to a stolen vehicle report in Reno, which made us think they’d likely flown into the airport there.
Leo did a bit of his magic using our facial recognition scans.
We narrowed down the flight they came in on, and from there, we used the passenger manifest to ID them.
That’s where Daphne’s pictures came in handy. ”
Lovell didn’t ask how they managed to get their fingers on that kind of information. They were all better off not knowing.
“Any idea where they are now?” he asked.
Ava shook her head. “Gone to ground for the moment. Probably taking a day or two to regroup.”
“They’ll need another car,” Daphne said.
“Ryan’s got his ear to the ground for any stolen ones. We’ll only know after the fact where they’ve been and what they’ve stolen, but at least we’ll know what they’re driving and what to look for,” Ava said.
“So what’s next? What can we do?” Daphne asked.
“You’ll do nothing,” he said. Everyone looked at him. Okay, maybe he’d been a little sharp.
One of Ava’s eyebrows slowly lifted.
Fine, it’d been a dumbass reaction.