Chapter 27
Simon prowled a path over the threadbare carpet at the non-descript motel he’d holed up in and cursed the fact that he hadn’t jammed an ice pick in Runner’s brain when he’d had the chance. She was the least of his problems right now, though, and he’d get to her eventually. First, he needed a plan.
A plan that involved revenge.
Simon had barely gotten enough advance notice to escape the estate before the Intelligence Unit arrived.
He’d grown tired of Runner’s whining about not being able to hack into the RPD’s database, so he’d hired outside assistance two days ago.
While the new hacker, who went by the alias Anonymous—no points for originality—hadn’t gotten into the database quite yet, he had proven his usefulness by letting Simon know that the police had issued a warrant for his arrest on charges of arson, destruction of evidence in a felony, and they’d recently added conspiracy to cover up murder to the list. He’d been able to leave with a secure phone and enough cash to last until he had a plan.
Ignoring the musty smell emanating from either the carpet or the bedspread, or possibly both, Simon pulled out his phone and read the updated alert.
The police had brought Leo in for further questioning, which wasn’t going to bode well for Simon.
Although Leo was mostly unaware of Simon’s side dealings, he knew enough to be a detriment, and Simon had no doubt that Leo would sing like a fucking canary if there was something in it for him.
Simon found a scrap of solace in the fact that Leo would still probably go to prison forever—that dagger wasn’t going anywhere now that Simon wasn’t there to handle things.
But now, Simon was facing way more serious problems. Charges.
An investigation. The empire he’d created himself, the one he’d earned, all gone.
Anger coursed through him, turning his vision red and making his hands shake.
Running wasn’t much of an option. The RPD would probably seize his assets by the end of the day, if they hadn’t already, and he was too good for shit-hole motels and watching his back.
He could take his anger out on Runner’s mother, making the little turncoat suffer until he decided to put her out of her misery himself, although the cops probably had a protection detail on the woman, just in case.
Assisted care facilities had security features he didn’t want to deal with right now.
But someone needed to pay for this fucking mess.
Simon needed to take action, to do something.
He would not lose control. He would not.
Simon, his mother tsked, her cold, hateful voice making his rage spiral. You don’t have control. You never did. Face it, you’re useless. They’re going to come for you, and you’re not even going to be in charge of when you can take a shit. You’ll go away forever.
Simon snatched up his phone, smashing his way through the files Anonymous had sent him.
Taking down anyone in the Intelligence Unit was out of the question.
They were too well-protected, and probably all sitting smack in the middle of his estate right now.
The A.D.A. was also going to be too difficult to pull off.
His eyes snagged on a name, an idea blooming in his brain like a bloodstain. Tyler Gates. The firefighter who kept shoving his nose where it didn’t belong. Who kept digging, who thought he’d bested Simon with the HazMat suit.
Tyler Gates, Simon thought, taking down his address and shoving his gun in his waistband, turning toward the door.
Who was going to die today.
Tyler pulled up to his apartment building, feeling absolutely wrecked.
He and Chloe had stayed at the Thirty-Third long enough to see new arrest warrants issued for both Leo and Simon Navarro and to get the news that, while Leo had been taken back into custody, whining like a toddler, Simon had fled the estate and was currently MIA.
Intelligence had located his car in a motel parking lot by the airport and currently had BOLOs out at every terminal, gate, and security checkpoint.
“If he tries to go anywhere, we’ll find him,” Addison had promised before changing into the street clothes in her locker and joining the team at the Navarro estate to execute a second search warrant, this one with input from Runner on exactly where to look, “and if he doesn’t, he’s a dumbass, and we’ll still find him. ”
Capelli had set up real-time alerts on the database, just in case, promising to monitor them personally for the next few days, just to be on the safe side.
There had been nothing left to do but let the RPD find Simon Navarro and bring him in, so Tyler and Chloe had left the Thirty-Third.
He’d worried he might be too keyed-up to sleep, even though he was beyond tired, but now that the threat had been taken care of and his adrenaline had left the building, he just wanted a shower, a sandwich, and a six-hour nap with Chloe right beside him.
“Hey,” Tyler said, putting the Mustang in park and reaching across the console to pull her close. “I know this has been a hell of a morning, but Esme is safe. Navarro—Simon—can’t get to her.”
“I know,” Chloe said, looking as tired as he felt. “Thanks for going with me. And working on the case. And…God, for everything. I don’t think I’d have made it through all of this without you.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You’re tough stuff, Ferguson. You’d have been okay. But I’m still happy to be your wingman.”
“Not sure you’ll still be singing that tune when I hog all your covers, but we could always give it a try,” Chloe said.
“Yeah, I’m barely keeping my eyes open, here. Let’s go grab a nap. Then we can head out to spend the evening with Esme and let her know what’s going on.”
“Sounds good.”
Tyler was so bleary, he didn’t register the trip through the main door of his building, nor the elevator ride to his floor.
He didn’t notice the perfect circle of electrical tape, pressed neatly over the lens of his doorbell camera.
And he didn’t track the stillness in his apartment, the warning scream of his gut that something was very, very wrong, until someone had pressed the barrel of a gun directly to his temple and said, “If either of you makes a single sound, the only sign you ever existed will be a stain on this carpet.”
And then pain like he’d never felt exploded behind his eyes, his whole world going dark.
Chloe’s scream lodged in her throat, fear paralyzing her limbs as a man who had to be Simon Navarro smashed a gun into Tyler’s temple.
Adrenaline flooded her veins, her hands starting to tremble as Tyler pitched forward, stumbling twice before—thank you, thank you, thank you, God—finding his feet, clearly dazed.
“Tyler,” Chloe breathed, reaching for him. Oh, God, he was bleeding, and all the color had drained from his face.
“Chloe,” he slurred, lurching toward her, but Simon stepped forward, leveling the gun at her chest, and she stumbled to a halt.
“Touching, but no. That’s not how this is going to go.”
Chloe forced her reeling thoughts to slow, the instincts she’d learned in martial arts training to kick in. Breathe first. Then buy time to assess your surroundings. Control the situation.
“Okay,” she said, calm she did not feel infusing her voice as she tried to scan the room without being obvious. “How would you like for this to go?”
Simon trained his attention on her. “You’re going to do exactly as I say.”
“Alright.” Chloe had to keep him talking. She had to think. “You’re Simon, I presume,” she said, leaving her hands palms-out in front of her, even though they itched to examine the cut now free-flowing blood over Tyler’s cheek.
“And you’re not entirely stupid,” Simon said. “But your boyfriend, here, is a nosy little son of a bitch, and for that, you’re both going to pay.”
Chloe’s mind raced, her thoughts jumbling together almost too fast to sort, until one stood out. “You know we worked on the fire investigation.”
Simon arched a brow at her. “Very good. Now, tie him to the chair,” he commanded, his dark, hawklike eyes flicking toward a chair in the kitchen and a tidy pile of black plastic zip ties on the table. “And unless you need me to blow out one of his knees as motivation, you’ll be quick about it.”
“No!” Chloe said, too fast and with far too much emotion in her voice. Tyler swayed again, and she couldn’t risk it. “Okay. Okay, I’ll do it.”
Turning toward Tyler, she guided him to the chair. He slumped against the ladder back, his arms dead weight at his sides, and dread clawed at Chloe’s chest, climbing her ribs.
“I love you,” she whispered, tears burning her eyes.
“L-love you, too,” Tyler murmured. “S’gon’ be okay.”
And then she saw it. The clarity in his eyes as they darted, just for a microsecond, at his pants pocket. The silvery edge of his cell phone, only visible to her from where she knelt beside him.
The screen that showed a connected call to Addison.
Tyler had been faking so Simon wouldn’t notice he’d gotten to his phone. He’d called in the cavalry.
They needed more time.
Chloe took a zip tie off the table, but instead of using it on Tyler, she turned toward Simon. “What are you going to do with us?”
“Whatever I fucking please,” he snapped, starting to pace. “I’m in control here. Not you.” With the gun firm in his grip, he moved a tight circuit over the floor for a full minute before pointing the gun at her again, his eyes wild. “I said, hurry up!”
“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry.”
She had no choice but to at least pretend to tie Tyler up, lest Simon lose his patience, so she looped the zip tie around his wrist. The sight of the beaded bracelet Esme had made for him made her heart catch, but it also bolstered her calm.
This was going to be okay. They were going to be okay.
She was going to make sure of it.
“Okay. You’re right,” Chloe said to Simon. “I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”
She made a show of tightening the first zip tie with a loud zzzzzip, squeezing Tyler’s hand very softly before looping the other one around his opposite wrist and doing the same. But they still needed more time, and she needed to think of something, fast.
“I know you want to kill us,” Chloe said, the words cold and sharp, like metal shavings between her teeth. “But think about it, Simon. We’re in an apartment building. If you shoot us, someone’s going to hear it. You’ll get caught.”
“I’m in control. I’m not going to get caught,” he said, each word a live wire, fraught with danger.
“You don’t have to,” Chloe agreed, edging closer to him, one step, then another, almost within reach. “Tyler and I won’t tell anyone you were here. You can run. You’re smart. The police won’t find you. Then you won’t have to worry about any of this ever again.”
Simon’s smile was so evil and dark, Chloe felt it in her marrow. “You stupid, stupid bitch. I’m not going to get caught because I’ll be dead. But I’m taking the both of you with me.”
Oh. God. “You can’t,” Chloe whispered, and Simon threw his head back and laughed.
“I can do whatever I want. I was going to start with him, but you know what? I’ve changed my mind. I’m tired of telling you, I’m in control. It’s time for me to prove it.”
He swung the gun at her, and three things happened at nearly the exact same time.
Tyler vaulted out of his chair, one zip tie around each wrist but neither of them attached to the chair, and took a run at Simon.
Chloe feinted and lunged forward, wrapping her arm around Simon’s and jerking upward until she felt his shoulder dislocate and snap.
And the front door crashed open with a deafening bang, followed by three separate voices screaming, “Remington Police Department! Don’t move! ”
Simon’s howl of pain followed quickly, his gun rattling to the floor.
After that, things got a little hazy. Someone—Garza, she thought?
—kicked the gun aside, while Addison forced Simon face-down against the floor as Maxwell and Xander held him at gunpoint.
But then, Tyler had his arms around her, grabbing her close, and Chloe didn’t care about anything else.
“Oh, my God. Tyler.” She threw her arms around him, relief smashing through her, and he held her back, just as tight.
“Chloe! Shit, Chloe, are you okay?”
“I’m good. I’m not hurt, but you’re bleeding,” she said, pulling back only far enough to run her hands over the nasty gash on his head.
“I don’t care about that,” Tyler said. “It’ll heal. I only care about you.”
“You guys okay?” Addison asked, holstering her weapon as Maxwell, Xander, and Garza hauled a still-screaming and now-handcuffed Simon out the door. “Damn, Gates. That’s probably gonna leave a mark. It’s a good thing you got that call off when you did.”
“Thanks, but this one is all on Chloe,” Tyler said. “She’s the one who stalled for time, and you should’ve seen the move she used to disarm Simon. Pure brilliance.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Addison said, her grin going from ear to ear. “I’ll give you guys a second, but you’re going to have to get that checked out before we all head back to the precinct to tie this one up, you smitten kitten.”
“You got it,” Tyler said, turning his attention back to Chloe. “You were unbelievably calm. Not to mention, unbelievably brave and very, very badass, taking Simon down like that.”
“I didn’t do it by myself, and anyway, he tried to hurt someone I love. I wasn’t going to let that happen. No matter what,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “Call it a team effort?”
Tyler laughed. “I’m happy to be your wingman anytime. I love you, Chloe Ferguson.”
She kissed him ever so gently, knowing they’d never let each other go. “I love you, too, Tyler Gates. I’ll be your wing-woman right back.”