Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mace
The hairs on the back of my neck have been standing on end for over an hour.
Ghost glances at me when I run a hand down my face for the hundredth time. “Pull your shit together, man. Your woman is fine. Leaving her at the safehouse with Addison was the perfect solution.”
“Yeah. I know.” In my head.
Ghost is driving. I’m white-knuckling the armrest of the SUV we’ve rented. Part of me knows he’s right; the other part feels a growing sense of unease I’m not used to. Maybe it’s because this isn’t an ordinary assignment. It’s my woman who’s at risk.
I’ve been involved in more cases than I can count while working for Blade. And before that, I dealt with situations overseas that were unspeakable. None of those instances was so close to home.
We have eyes on Frank Samson. We know exactly where he is.
As long as he’s alive, he’s a danger to Addison and Autumn.
Neither woman can carry on with their lives until the world is rid of this fucker.
He’s clearly unhinged. He spent two years plotting to murder a man and take over his estate, including his daughter. That’s some extreme premeditated shit.
Sure, we could call the police and let them handle this. They would arrest him, search his home, and gather evidence. Meanwhile, Frank would get an attorney who would drag this case out for years, while Addison and Autumn would have no peace.
I don’t want that for my girl or for the stranger I just met today. That’s not how we operate at Black Blade Protection. We fix things.
Samson is a dead man.
Period.
Ghost’s phone rings, and he answers it, connecting it to the speaker system in the SUV. “Update us, Bryant.”
Blade has connections all over the world. Luckily, Anthony Bryant is one of those men, and he was available to take on this case. I’ve met him a few times in the past. He’s one of the good guys.
“What’s your ETA?” Bryant asks.
“Ten minutes,” Ghost responds.
“Good. See you then.” Bryant ends the call. He already texted us the address to the property where he’s located.
No one knows where Samson went while he was missing for a day, but luckily, he returned home yesterday and hasn’t left again.
According to Bryant, the piece of shit spends most of his time pacing the spare bedroom where he set up an elaborate investigation.
An entire wall is covered with details about both James and Autumn Burke.
He’s spent a fucking long time planning to take over James’s wealth and lure in Autumn.
He could have gotten away with it, too. If only James had died before Autumn got home.
That part makes me fume. If she’d arrived two minutes later, I might not even know my friend and mentor had died yet. My woman would be in the arms of a fucking lunatic, who would be pretending to console her while he robbed her blind.
Ghost is right. I’m too close to this case to make rational decisions, but that’s why he’s with me. I need him to run this operation.
Ten minutes later, on the dot, we park in the driveway of a house I’ve learned is one block from Samson’s home.
We don’t need to worry about hiding. There’s no need.
Bryant discovered this vacation rental in a perfect location, where he can easily see Samson coming and going since the man has to drive past this house to get out of the neighborhood.
Bryant lets us in, and we exchange quick pleasantries before he motions us to join him in the kitchen. He’s all business, which I appreciate. We’re not here for coffee.
I’m impressed by the spread of monitors and computers on the kitchen table, and as Bryant plops down in front of the system, he points toward a monitor on the right. “That’s Samson.”
I plant a hand on the table and lean in.
It’s eerie to be staring at live footage of the man who killed Autumn’s father.
He’s pacing back and forth in a room that matches the exact description I’ve been given.
The setup looks like the wall of information an FBI agent would have if they were surveilling a known criminal, except Samson has cameras and information all over the room that pertain to Burke’s home, and more specifically, Autumn.
My blood boils. Fuck this asshole. I’ve never been in Autumn’s room, but I can easily identify it on one of the screens in Bryant’s kitchen because he’s tapping into all the cameras Samson is using.
Bryant is top-notch. No wonder Blade has him on retainer.
Bryant gives us a quick rundown of everything we’re looking at, but my gaze remains on the man pacing. He keeps looking at his phone, like he’s waiting for a call.
I step closer to that screen and stare at him. I’ve never seen the man before, and I start popping my knuckles because he’s a dead man.
Suddenly, Samson holds his phone up, pumps his fist, and races over to his computer. He drops onto a chair in front of the screen and types frantically.
Bryant clicks on several things. A few of the monitors change, and then we’re watching Samson’s screen as if it’s ours on one of them.
“What the absolute fuck!” I shout. This asshole has pulled up an address, the exact location I just left my woman with Addison. Our safehouse. How the fuck did he get that information from a text?
Samson types on his phone, spins his chair around, and jumps up to leave the room.
I turn and run toward the door. Ghost is on my heels. He’s the one with the keys to the SUV.
“Coming with you,” Bryant states.
My heart is racing. It’s not as though I can’t get to Autumn and Addison before that fucking piece of shit, but what the fuck?
We’re in the SUV and peeling out of the neighborhood in seconds. It’s about a fifteen-minute drive to the safehouse. I’m sure Ghost will do it in ten.
I grab the handle above the car door as he takes the first turn, tires squealing.
When I glance over my shoulder, I realize Bryant’s got a laptop open on his thighs. He’s clicking away at the keys. His brows are furrowed deeper than anyone I’ve ever seen. He’s furious.
“How did he get the address?” I growl.
“No idea, man. Makes no sense.” Bryant keeps typing. “It’s like he was waiting for a text, and suddenly he got what he needed, but how?” He runs a hand through his hair.
I keep looking out the back windshield. “What does Samson drive?”
“Black, four-door Civic.”
I scan the area, not seeing such a vehicle, praying we are well ahead of him. We have to be. We left within seconds of him, and we were closer to the entrance of the neighborhood.
In our favor is the fact that he has no idea we even exist. As far as we know.
Ghost taps his phone, making a call.
“This is Galloway,” a man responds. He’s the guy we left with the women.
“Stay alert,” Ghost barks out. “We’re on our way back. Samson is headed that way. I think we’re ahead of him.”
“Ten-four.” The call ends.
My entire body is tight as we make our way to the safehouse. It takes almost no time, but it feels like two hours.
Ghost uses a remote for the garage, but as he waits for it to open, Bryant and I jump out of the SUV and race toward the front door. It opens before we reach the porch.
Galloway lets us in, scanning the area. “How the fuck did that asshole make us?” He moves to the main picture window in the living room and lowers one slat of the blinds enough to see out.
“Not a goddamn clue,” Bryant grumbles, still holding his open laptop. He makes quick strides over to the kitchen table on the other side of this open-plan great room.
Autumn rushes into my arms. “What’s wrong?”
I met Addison briefly earlier. She’s standing at the entrance to the hallway, wringing her hands.
Her eyes are wide. She’s much younger than I expected.
Mid-twenties. Frank is thirty-five. How did he end up married to a much younger woman before he was even deployed? That’s a question for another day.
“Samson has discovered your location.”
Autumn’s face goes white. “How?”
I shake my head. “No idea.”
Ghost enters from the garage.
Bryant looks up from his computer. “Autumn, are you familiar with Goldstein’s Funeral Home?”
Frowning, I move closer toward the table, keeping Autumn pinned to my side.
“Yes.” She looks at me. “Isn’t that where you sent my father’s body?”
My breath hitches. “What are you talking about? I haven’t had your father’s body sent anywhere. It’s still at the morgue.”
If it’s possible, she goes whiter. “But the texts…”
“What texts, sweetheart?” I ask gently.
She pulls out her phone, opens it, taps the screen, and hands it to me.
“The mortuary has texted me several times in the past few days. I kept forgetting and ignoring them. I assumed you were handling it. But then, about a half hour ago, I got a text asking where to send the death certificate. I figured we should probably handle that and the funeral arrangements while we’re here. So I clicked on the link.”
I wince as I hand the phone to Bryant.
He cringes deeper than I do. We both know what happened.
“What?” Autumn’s voice wobbles. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known. I suspect Samson sent the texts to lure you into clicking the link. That’s how he found out where you are.”
She gasps, her hand coming over her mouth.
I pull her around in front of me and hold her close. “It’s okay. We’re all here. Nothing is going to happen to you.”
Addison is standing close, eyes still wider than saucers. Her arms are crossed. She’s hugging herself. And she’s shaking violently, probably because she’s freaked the fuck out that Frank Samson is coming here. Now.
Ghost rounds the table and stops in front of her, holding her elbows. “Take a breath. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”
She stares at him, lips parted, and her head begins to shake slowly. “I, I can’t.”
“Can’t what, Addison?” he asks.
“Can’t…” She seems to be struggling to breathe. “Can’t see him.” Her knees buckle, but Ghost is fast. He grabs her waist, holding her up.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” Autumn says.
I grip her chin, making sure she’s looking me in the eyes. “Not your fault.”
“But it is. I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have clicked on that link.”
“Anyone would have, Baby girl. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
She’s right about that, but I’m not the average human. I’ll give her a lesson on how to recognize a scam one day in the near future. Or just reinforce the fact that she should never open anything she doesn’t know for certain is legit. But that’s for another day, too.
“He’s going to be here in two minutes,” Bryant points out.
“I’m watching,” Galloway adds.
“You two need to go to the safe room,” I say to Autumn before glancing at Addison. This house has a room where the women can hide. It’s for emergencies, and this definitely constitutes an emergency.
“No,” Autumn says, pushing away from me. “You need me.”
I grab her biceps, “Sweetheart, now is not a good time to be defiant.”
“Mace, now is the best time to be defiant. You need me to open the door and let him in. Think about it. He has no idea I’m on to him, or that anyone is, for that matter.
He simply thinks he’s finally tracked me down.
” She glances around the room. “The rest of you should move away from the front of the house. He’ll trust me and come inside.
I’ll fake my reaction, like I’m excited to see him.
I’ll tell him I’ve been hiding from whoever killed my father. He’ll think I have no idea who did it.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Ghost comments.
It’s not. He’s right. It’s a brilliant, well-thought-out plan. But I hate it. I hate Autumn ever being in any sort of dangerous situation.
“We gotta move, people,” Bryant warns, slamming his laptop shut.
“Be right back,” Ghost says as he ushers Addison out of the room.
Autumn flattens her palms on my chest. “He’s not going to shoot me, Mace. His plan won’t have changed. He needs to lure me into his web and convince me he’s a great guy. His goal is still to rob my father of everything he owns, and that includes me.”
Fuck. She’s right. I kiss her forehead. “You get him into the house, Baby. That’s it. Lead him into the kitchen. Tell him you’ll make him coffee or something. Then excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Get the fuck out of this room. Head for the back of the house. We’ll take over from there.”
I hate this. With every ounce of my being. Putting Autumn in any sort of danger makes me want to vomit. But she’s right. The risk is minimal.
“I’m going out the back door,” Bryant says as he sticks his laptop in one of the kitchen drawers, out of sight. “I’ll round to the front when he arrives so he can’t retreat.”
Ghost joins us. “I’ll also go out there, cover that door.”
Galloway is still looking outside. “I’ll wait in the pantry.”
That leaves me. “I’ll take the hallway.”
I grab Autumn’s shoulders and kiss her quickly.
“I’ve got this.”
She stands taller, shoulders back, nodding.
God, I hope her acting skills are up to par.