2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Carys
I draw the door closed on the bedroom. Lucas is napping, and I head for the living room. Sofia is out with her girls and Lena at a friend’s pool party, so the house is quiet. They’ve settled into the Cape Verde community, and Jay wants them away from here when our guest comes later. The less any of his family understand regarding our plans, the better. His wife gets why he’s so driven to help me—she realizes the type of man she married. His loyalty runs deep.
From the office, Jay emerges. “You’re not going to like this.” He tucks his phone into his pocket.
“What else is new? The casino, the hotel, or Finn?” Nothing is going smoothly. The confetti bomb in my Chicago office might as well have been real. Every aspect of my life is in pieces. Every time we think we’ve found a way to slot them together, a piece ends up being a slightly different shape than we expected.
“Finn. My contacts tell me he’s already in solitary.”
I snort. “Of course, he is.” At least he’s not in the infirmary. Whenever Jay briefs me on Finn’s fights, I fear he’ll end up dead or so injured he’ll never recover. Finn is a very capable fighter, but the danger never seems to stop. He’s not getting any younger. “He’s not happy we’re trying to break him out.”
Jay’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Please tell me you weren’t talking about a jailbreak at visitation.”
“Not exactly,” I hedge. There is a chance we might have raised suspicion. As soon as Finn became annoyed, I wasn’t as careful. Not bright. He needed a heads-up for the move and to try to make our job easier.
“Carys.” His tone is full of warning. “You want him out, I do, too, but we gotta be smart about this. He doesn’t need to be told shit until it’s happening. Even then, the less he knows, the better.”
I tip my chin in defiance. “You’re not there. You don’t see him with a new bruise every single time. He’s not a twenty-year-old punk fighting in The Cage with his dad’s mafia empire at his back. I don’t—I don’t want anything bad to happen. I needed him to understand we’re not sitting around doing nothing.”
Jay pinches the bridge of his nose. “Now he knows. You never bring up our plans again. If there’s something vital he has to know, I’ve got ways to get that information to him.”
“Fine.” I slouch into the couch to watch the ocean from the large picture windows facing the water. “When is Evander arriving?”
“Should be here in ten. Dominic said the plane landed a while ago.” He wanders to the couches and takes in the view. We sit in silence for a few moments. “Best part of living here is this.”
“I enjoy watching your kids out there in the sand, playing in the waves.”
“Yeah, they’re adjusting well.” He half turns. “Sofia’s made some friends. If we could just get Finn out and make our business investments line up, we’d be golden.”
“We’ll get there.” I say it with more conviction than I feel. Can we get Finn out? Will all the problems with the casino and hotel come to a stop?
There’s a knock at the door, and Jay goes to the entry with a hand on his gun. Though we’ve been safe here so far, we’re still on edge about the package delivered to my office. The “time’s up” message could be linked to the switchover of company control from me to my father, or the note might have been in regard to the FBI raid, or the point could be something we haven’t figured out yet. We haven’t let our guard down. Security isn’t extravagant, but we’re not taking chances. No one leaves the house without at least one guard.
I rise from the couch when Jay opens the door. Evander Williams is a tall, bulky Black man who has earned his reputation in certain underground circles. An air of confidence wafts in behind him.
I come forward, and my hand is outstretched. “Mr. Williams, I’m Carys Van de Berg.”
His palm slides against mine, and his dark gaze searches my face. “My condolences on your asshole father. Based on what I was able to access, he should have been the person to step up for a plea deal.” His lips twist. “Not that Finn Donaghey isn’t quite a catch for the FBI and CIA. I see why they didn’t hesitate on that exchange.”
Since Kimi blindsided me, I’m wary of anyone who knows too much. I narrow my eyes and withdraw my hand. “And how is it you can access government documents?”
He chuckles. “How do you think I’m gonna get your boy out? I’ve got connections in every government organization in the world. You want information? I get it for you. For a price, of course. I don’t take a job unless I’m sure the person I’m working with has both the guts and the resources to do what needs to be done. You passed. Congratulations.” His deep rumbling baritone has an edgy amusement to it.
All the inquiries we made trying to find the right guy led us back to Evander Williams. Has your daughter been kidnapped by a warlord? Call Evander. A son accused of espionage in North Korea? Call Evander. Want the love of your life free from a high-security prison? Evander is the man. At every turn, his name was coming out of people’s mouths.
“You come highly recommended,” I admit.
“’Course I do. If you can afford me, there is no one better.” His mouth hints at a smile. “Your photos don’t do you justice.” His expression turns puzzled. “In person, you remind me of someone else. Can’t quite put my finger on it.”
I shrug and purse my lips. “People tell me I look like my mother.” The resemblance is actually uncanny. In photos of my mother when she was my age, we could be twins.
“Perhaps that’s it. I’ve run into your father a few times over the years when I was dealing with time-sensitive issues and needed materials.”
Not surprising since my father never had a problem bending munition and firearms laws to suit the needs of his clients. “Come in. Have a seat. Did you want a drink?”
“No.” He waves me off as he crosses to a high-backed armchair. “I can’t stay long. I have to fly to Nigeria for an ongoing negotiation.”
“That kidnapping case?” This morning the news was buzzing about a diplomat’s daughter who was taken for ransom.
“Can’t say. Discretion and privacy are two of the biggest keys to my position.” He grimaces and places his elbows on his knees. “I wanted to talk Finn’s release through in person. I don’t like having anything in writing in a job like this.”
“Understandable,” Jay concedes as he sits on the other end of the couch. “What do we need to do?”
“Right now? Nothing. Keep business as usual. I’ve set the wheels in motion to get Finn moved to a lower-security prison. Once he’s there, we’ll get the lay of the land. I have contacts in every single federal prison. The American prison system is incredibly flawed, so finding the routes to an exit are likely. As I said on the phone, there are no guarantees in a situation like this.”
“If your network is that big,” I say, trying to channel Finn, “how do you know every contact is loyal to you?”
Evander chuckles. “They’re not loyal to me. They’re loyal to the dollar, and I pay well.”
While I took similar risks when I extracted Finn from the FBI raid at the Donaghey warehouse in Boston, taking them now seems foolhardy. Money talks, but when there are other people willing to pay more or have better leverage, circumstances can spiral out of control in a hurry. “You’ve got nothing else on any of these contacts to keep them on your side?”
His mouth forms a tight line. “Depends on the person, the location. You’ve hired me because I’m the best. I can’t say things don’t ever tip sideways unexpectedly. That’s part of the risk. Also why I’m here—to manage those oh shit moments. As much as we can, we mitigate our exposure through cash payments. Generally, the more money, the less we worry.”
I swallow. Money isn’t an issue, or at least it isn’t yet. Even if I have to bankrupt myself, Finn shoved all his assets into a trust for Lucas before he surrendered, so we’ll never be completely poor.
“Step one is in progress right now. We’ll have him moved soon. I’m finalizing that process in the next day or two. Once he’s at another facility, we’ll start looking at plans and schedules and routes to get him out. You want this quiet, right?”
“Well.” I glance at Jay. “Yes, as quiet as we possibly can.” But if we have to blow a hole in the wall and storm the place, I’m not opposed to that either. As long as we return to Cape Verde, alive, and as a family, I’m not complaining. Dead or still in jail aren’t options.
Jay raises his eyebrows. “We’re open to whatever strategies you want to employ.”
Evander nods his head repeatedly, his brow furrowed.
“Finn’s in solitary right now. Does that matter?” What if he’s already ruined the plan?
“Won’t matter. I’ll have paid enough they’ll move him no matter what.” He stands and offers his hand again. “I’ll be back in a couple of weeks with more details and a firmer timeline for his release.”
We escort him to the door, and Dominic helps him into the waiting car. With a frown, I turn to Jay. “What d'you think?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Some of it I liked. Some of it makes me nervous.”
“He kept saying released . He never once mentioned a jailbreak.”
“Covering his ass in case we’re recording him, I imagine.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” I rub my cheeks. “There’s this tightness in my chest and clawing sensation in my throat, and I don’t know if it’s hope or dread.” A humorless laugh escapes me. “If Finn were here, he’d think we were stupid.”
“Nah.” Jay chuckles. “If Finn were here, he’d have asked how much the bulldozer was to remove the wall of the prison. Nothing subtle in that man.”
I rotate my shoulders, trying to throw off my unease. “Maybe that’s all this feeling is—Evander is too subtle compared to the smash-and-grab jobs I’m used to.”
“We talked to a lot of people, Carys. If he wasn’t the real deal, someone would have known.”
From the bedroom, Lucas lets out a long, hungry wail. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I give Jay one last half smile. “You’re right,” I say. “I’m being paranoid.” All the unease and uncertainty are shoved deep when I open the door to greet Lucas.