Chapter 22
Ethan
Kat had been waylaid by Angela while finishing her coffee.
It appeared Angela had adopted her, the way she had adopted Frey, Shane, Holly, and me, and as such, had strong opinions to share.
In this case, vociferous disapproval of Kat’s decision to leave the safety of the Mountain House and go back to the city.
I left her to Angela’s tender mercies, since I agreed one hundred percent with Angela.
Not that it earned me any points. My housekeeper had let me know in no uncertain terms that she thought I had buried my balls under a rock by capitulating to Kat’s demands.
That I should put my foot down. Insist on her safety. Be the boss.
But it was that or cut her loose. And I could no more do that than I could chop off a limb.
I shamelessly took advantage of the fact that Kat was trapped in the sunroom by my housekeeper’s scolding, and went to the security room to consult with Mick.
Mick spun his chair around from the bank of security monitors. “Taking off?”
“Yes. But I need something from you,” I told him. “One, find four good people for a rotating two-man security detail on Kat while she’s in the city. For now, I’m calling Trey and Shelby to come down with me for today, but I need more men.”
Mick looked shocked. “She’s not staying here? Is she out of her mind?”
I shot him a look, and he rolled his eyes. “Right. I’ll come up with more men. Anything else?”
“Yeah. You have a stash of smartphones in here, right? I want to give Kat one with our numbers in it.”
Mick leaned over, opened a drawer, and pulled out a high-end smartphone with a charging cable wrapped around it. He handed it to Ethan. “There you go. Already activated and charged up. Top of the line. All standard apps pre-loaded.”
I opened it up, and inserted my own number into the list. “Have you found anything else in that research I asked for?”
“No, but I’m still poking around. She’s definitely hiding something.”
The tragic story Kat had told me last night was still in the forefront of my mind, but I wasn’t going to share it with Mick or anyone else unless I had a damn good reason to. I headed back out to the terrace, and found Arch Dorne’s number on my phone.
Arch was a die-hard Unredeemable. I’d served with him in my second tour in Afghanistan.
I’d been forced to retire after I took a gut wound in the course of saving his life.
Just as well, in the end. I would never have started up MasterTech if I’d stayed busy with the Rangers.
And MasterTech had been good for me, and my family.
Arch had gone back and done two more tours before coming back and getting recruited by the FBI.
He was now on a task force that fought organized crime.
I’d tried to get him to come work for me after he mustered out, but he hadn’t been interested.
Too much history, he told me. I sensed the life-debt weighed on him.
Well, hell. Maybe if he helped me out today, it would weigh a little less.
The number rang, three times…four... and he picked up.
“Yo, Ethan,” he said, in a sleep-addled croak. “Do you know what time it is?”
I had not, in fact, thought about how early it was on the east coast. Hell, it was early for me here on the west coast. Freya always said I was too accustomed to the whole world dancing to my tune.
“Sorry, man,” I said. “I forgot about the time difference.”
“The concept of time zones escapes you. With that tech genius brain of yours.”
“Selective intelligence,” I said. “I’m as dumb as a rock about some things.”
“Good to know,” Arch grumbled. “Okay, I’m awake. What do you need?”
“Got a favor to ask,” I said. “I need some information.”
There was a nervous pause on the other end of the line. “You know damn well I can’t compromise myself professionally. Not even as a favor for a friend.”
“Of course not. You don’t have to. I have a woman friend, twenty-eight years old.
She told me she was put into Witness Protection fourteen years ago, after testifying against a mobster.
The guy killed her older sister, nineteen, and her youngest sister, seven.
She called them Rafaella and Gabriella. I don’t know if those are their real names.
I think it happened in the Tri-State area, judging by her accent and other details, like the sister having to give up a scholarship to Columbia University, stuff like that.
She currently goes by the name Katrin Banner, and claims to have been brought up in San Diego.
Or she did before she confessed about the mobster and the sisters, anyway. ”
“So? What the hell do you need me for? She’s your friend, right? She’s the expert on her own life story. She can tell you whatever you need to know without compromising her career or her integrity. Unlike me.”
“Don’t be a tight-ass, Arch. I need to corroborate that story. I’m under pressure here to keep my family safe. You know what I’m fighting against. And you owe me.”
“You lean hard on that,” Arch complained.
“I try not to lean too hard on that bullet scar in my belly,” I said. “It still hurts me when I bench more than two-fifty.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Two things,” I said. “One, is her story is true? It’s a yes-or-no question. And two, if it is true, what’s the name of the mobster? That’s it. All I want from you.”
“Shit,” Arch said under his breath. “You’re in love with this girl, aren’t you?”
“That’s none of your damn business, Arch. Can you help me?”
“Is this related to Shane’s abduction?”
“It is now. She saved my life. And those fuckheads are after her now because of it. She’s my responsibility now. I just need to be sure of the details.”
“Wow, she saved your life? Lucky her. That means she gets to have you be her indentured servant in this life and the next, right?”
“Don’t whine, Arch, it’s unbecoming. I gave you the data. All I need is a confirmation. Yes, no, and the name of the killer. You can do it. I know you can.”
“Send me a picture of her,” Arch said sourly.
I snapped a furtive shot of Kat through the glass of the sunroom, and zoomed in to make sure it showed her whole face. She looked hunted, as one would, being scolded by Angela, but she was recognizable. I sent it, and went back to the call. “Sent.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Arch growled. “No promises.”
“I’m trying to keep what’s left of my family alive, Arch,” I said. “If you can help me, great. If not, whatever.”
“Fine, gotcha. Talk later.”
Bad-tempered bastard. Arch was not the most amiable of the Unredeemables crowd, but he always came through.
I approached the dining room, and heard Angela’s rant through the open door. I waited outside, noticing that Kat had dropped her big purse, the one she’d had with her at the office where I met her, on one of the tables outside.
“…perfectly comfortable here, with every possible luxury and entertainment! And it’s not forever! It is just until the danger passes! It’s insane to go back now!”
“Thank you, Angela, for caring so much, and for sharing your opinion,” Kat said evenly. “You make me feel so well taken care of. I don’t have a lot of that in my life, so I appreciate the hell out of it when I get it. You’re very kind.”
“Oh, stop it,” Angela snapped. “I dislike being managed. I get enough of that from Ethan and Freya. Holly too, for that matter. Bunch of smooth manipulators, the whole pack of you.”
“I’m not managing you,” Kat said gently. “It’s the literal truth.”
But that just wound Angela up even more. “Well, I think you’re being stubborn and self-destructive! Any woman with an ounce of sense would reorder her priorities!”
I tucked the phone into an inside pocket of her purse. Maybe it was sneaky and inappropriate, but it’s not as if she didn’t know that about me already. I’d tell her about it later, after she’d recovered from Angela’s drubbing.
“Kat?” I poked my head in. “We should really get going. See you later, Angela.”
Kat shot me an eloquent glance. “Goodbye, Angela. Thanks again.”
“Be careful!” Angela’s stern words sounded like a mandate from on high.
“Of course!” Kat fled the room, and hurried along beside me down the breezeway. “You really threw me to the wolves, back there,” she grumbled.
“The wolves weren’t telling you anything that wasn’t true,” I observed.
Kat harrumphed sharply, but didn’t say another word until we got to the garage. I opened the passenger door of my black Jag, and Kat gave the car an approving look as she slid inside. “Sweet ride,” she said. “Just us?”
“Trey and Shelby will be driving down on their own.”
“Trey and Shelby? Why?”
“They’re your guard detail,” I informed her. “Whenever I’m not with you. You’ll have a rotating two-man team, every hour of every day until this is all settled.”
“You’re joking,” Kat said blankly.
“I’m not in a joking sort of mood these days. If you insist on leaving the safety of the Mountain House, you’ll have bodyguards. That’s not negotiable. Don’t even try.”
“So, the lord-and-master routine continues,” she said. “No matter what I do.”
“It does,” I said, in steely tones.
A very silent drive to the city followed. I didn’t try to start up a conversation. I sensed she felt vulnerable and shy, having revealed so much to me last night, but she was not defaulting to automatic hostility, so I decided to consider it progress.
We got to her house without incident. I parked on the street in front of the cracked sidewalk and the chain-link fence that bounded a patch of dirt which had probably never been a lawn. My Jag looked strange in that setting, but any one of my cars would have looked equally out of place.
Shelby and Trey parked behind me. I got out, strode back, and instructed Shelby to keep watch outside. I sent Trey straight out to shop for some high-quality security equipment. New door locks, window locks, alarm system.