Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8)
Page 13
“Is that necessary?”
“It is if you want to spend time with the kids. I can’t have you traveling back and forth to the safe house.”
“I know how to spot a tail,” she grumbled. “But fine. We’ll be ready.” She disconnected the call.
“Kelsey,” Tyler said in a low tone.
“Yes?” I said as I dropped my phone into my shoulder bag which was sitting at my feet.
“Three cars back. Blue sedan.”
I looked in my mirror and spotted the car. “And?”
Tyler turned on his blinker before turning right into a residential neighborhood. Bones was driving the SUV behind us. He followed Tyler. When the blue sedan also turned right, Bones slammed on his brakes, turning the wheel so the SUV spun sideways to block the road. Another one of our SUVs cut off the car’s escape. Tyler hit the gas, speeding through the neighborhood to get us out of there.
I called Bridget, knowing Bones would’ve ordered her to stay in the car.
She skipped the greeting and got right to the point. “Don’t know yet, but Bones, Katie, Trigger, and Jackson have it handled. Go! Get to the airport.”
“Call me when the dust settles.”
“You got it, boss.”
I leaned over my seat to look at Alex and the kids. The kids seemed unconcerned and continued chattering about Florida. Alex raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem worried either.
“What’s our rental like?” I asked Alex.
“Fabulous, of course. Would you expect anything less of me?” His hands danced in the air as he detailed the rental. “Imagine… A luxurious seven-bedroom oceanside estate with enough couches and daybeds to sleep twenty-five people. Not one, but two three-stall garages, with additional housing above one of them that connects to the main house by way of the second floor. Eight full bathrooms and three half baths. A game room. Heated pool. Hot tub. Private dock with a speed boat. Outdoor tiki lounge. Multiple balconies and a veranda overlooking the ocean. A chef equipped kitchen with—”
“Got it!” I said, holding up a hand to stop his sales pitch. “You did good.”
“We need to put Alex in charge of securing housing more often,” Tyler said as he merged onto the interstate. “Sounds like my kind of safe house.”
“How big is the pool?” Nicolas asked.
“What’s a game room?” Sara asked.
“Dummy,” Nicholas said. “It’s where you play games.”
“Like monopoly?” Sara asked.
“Sure,” Nicholas said, shrugging. He glanced at Alex, not sure at all. “Isn’t it?”
“More like a pool table and arcade games.”
“Sweet. Do we need quarters?” Nicholas asked.
“If you do, we’ll get you some,” I assured him before turning back in my seat and pulling my phone from my bag. Bridget had texted me about the car that had been following us.
Bridget: Only Nightcrawler. He was driving Beth home when they spotted us.
Me: Thanks for the update. We’ll hold the plane for you.
Bridget: You’d better. I have a new bikini that will drive Bones crazy.
Oh boy, I thought.
~*~*~
Four and a half hours later, the only thing I could think as I walked with the kids through the first floor of the rental house and out onto the open veranda overlooking the pool, and beyond that the ocean, was holy shit.
“Cool,” Nicholas said from beside me. “We really are rich.”
“So… This is how the upper-class vacations,” Anne said, walking out behind us. “I love Miami.”
“I love Kelsey’s limitless corporate card,” Alex said, joining us.
“Holy shit,” I said aloud before I started laughing.
Sara giggled. “Pushups, Aunt Kelsey.”
I didn’t argue. I got down on the pristine veranda and counted out the ten pushups. After, I stood and started toward the door. “Tyler, you’re in charge while I’m gone,” I called over my shoulder.
“Consider it handled. I’ll coordinate security measures with Bones and Jackson.”
Bridget followed me outside to a row of rented SUVs, handing me a Glock and holster, before she jogged to the passenger side. I slid behind the wheel and turned over the engine. Jackson was already on his way to pick up my aunt and uncle. I was tasked with a much more difficult—and dangerous—assignment.
To confront Charlie and force her to relocate.
Chapter Twenty-One
CHARLIE
Monday, 5:55 p.m.
It took Greg three hours to walk me through the autopsy reports and the forensic evidence from Roseline’s apartment and the truck stop’s parking lot. Greg was thorough. A downright nerd when it came to evidence. But that’s why I liked working with him. When we were done reviewing the reports—my overloaded brain now a pile of mush—I dumped our warm beers in the sink and uncapped fresh ones. We were still in the dining room talking when Spence showed. He sat to drink a beer with us as I gave him the short version of the day’s events.
I was taking a drink of my beer when someone banged hard enough against my apartment door that I was somewhat surprised the flimsy thing was still hanging on its hinges.
Beast, who’d been sleeping across my feet, half-barked, rolled over, and then continued snoring.
I unholstered my gun and stood. Spence mirrored my movements from the other side of the table. Greg, the nerd that he was, backed himself into the corner to stay out of the way.
“Feel! Free! Fine! Fummm!” Bridget’s voice yelled from the other side of the door, ending on a giggle.
“That’s not how it goes!” Kelsey’s voice snapped from the hallway.
“Yes, it is,” Bridget said.
“No. It’s Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum, I smell a—” Kelsey stopped midsentence when I opened the door. “Hey, Kid. What’s shaking?” Kelsey pushed past me and walked into the apartment. Bridget followed her inside.
I checked the hallway, but it was clear. I closed and locked the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Charlie?” Spence asked as a question.
“She’s my cousin. She lives in Michigan,” I answered as I holstered my Glock.
“Got anything besides beer?” Bridget asked, gathering some of the empty bottles before she carried them into the kitchen.
“We’ll drink later,” Kelsey told Bridget before turning to me. “Pack a bag. We need to leave.”
“Leave? Where? Why?” My head was spinning trying to catch up. “How the hell did you get here?”
“In a plane, then a car,” Kelsey said as she started down my hallway. “I’ll pack you a bag. Grab anything you need from the bathroom.”
My cousin had been running the playbook for my life since we were kids. Something inside me snapped. I picked up an empty bottle and threw it across the room, shattering it against the wall.
Kelsey stopped, turned, and walked back to me. She stood inches away, gauging my anger. “You good now?”
“I’m not leaving.”
“It’s no longer your decision. Do you hear me?”
We stood glaring at each other, neither of us willing to back down.
“Hi,” Greg said from the corner. “I’m Greg.”
“Hi, Greg,” Bridget said, returning from the kitchen to grab the rest of the bottles. “You should leave, Greg.”
“Okay,” he said as he scurried for the door.
“Thanks for the report,” I told him, turning away from Kelsey.
“Umm, should I call someone?” he whispered loudly to me, watching Kelsey over my shoulder.
“No. I’m fine. She’s my sister.” I opened the door, checked the hallway to ensure it was still clear, then held it open for him.
“I thought you said she was your cousin.”
“She’s both. Our family tree has a few kinks. Drive safe.”
He wandered down the hallway toward the stairs, scratching his chin.
Kelsey turned to Spence, who had returned to his chair and unc
apped another beer. “You should leave, too.”
“No,” he said. He leaned back, stretching his legs under the table. He slowly drank his beer as he watched her.
Kelsey smirked, raised her phone, and took a picture of Spence. Spence didn’t say anything, just continued to watch her as she texted someone. My guess was she was ordering Tech to run a background.
Spence glanced over at me and smirked. “Well, she’s fun.”
Kelsey threw a glare at him but turned down the hall toward my bedroom. Bridget returned again, this time with a wet rag to wash the table.
Spence lifted his beer so she could wipe the section in front of him before he looked back at me. “You going with her?”
“Depends. She needs to explain what she’s doing here.”
Bridget snorted. “She got a phone call that someone was trying to kill the second most important person in her life. How calm would you be?”
“I’m a cop. It’s part of the job.”
“That’s what she said. Then she found out that whoever is after you isn’t some everyday thug. The whole family flew down. We rented a private estate packed with every available bodyguard, and—” she paused to glance down the hall, “—she brought the kids. Do you know how scary that is for her?”
“I can’t just leave, Bridget. This is my home. It’s where I feel safe.”
Bridget looked around at my apartment. “Here?”
“Are you snubbing on my apartment?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “This place is a dump.”
I looked around, shrugging. “It needs fresh paint. And new carpet. But other than a few cosmetic updates, there’s nothing wrong with it.”
Bridget raised an eyebrow before lifting her eyes to the dining room light above us. “There’s duct tape holding your twenty-dollar fake-brass plastic chandelier together.”
I focused on Bridget, refusing to look at—or be embarrassed by—the dining room light that I’d taped together after the chain had snapped.
“Okay.” Bridget returned with the dishrag to the kitchen. “But you should really think about coming with us. Between the house and guesthouse, there’s over eight-thousand square feet. There’s also a pool, hot tub, and an outdoor tiki lounge. Not only would you be safe, but you could pretend it’s a vacation.”
“If I go, Kelsey wins. And she’ll keep bossing me around.”
Bridget shook her head. “Does your life mean so little to you that you’d turn down a safe place to stay just so you can make a point to Kelsey?”
“I have safe houses. I have other places I can go.”
Bridget walked over and sat at the table. “Then tell me, why are you here? Why haven’t you moved to one of those safe houses?”
I didn’t have an answer for her.
“She can’t,” Kelsey said as she returned with an oversized duffle bag. “It feels too much like the bad guy wins if she leaves. And we Harrison girls don’t like hiding.” She dropped the bag near the door. “I have an idea that might soften the blow, though.”
I eyed her sideways. To be honest, the pool and hot tub were good selling points, but she was right. It felt like I was running away. “I’m listening.”
“You hate shopping, dealing with contractors, and all that other nonsense. Turn Bridget loose on your apartment. You stay at the mansion a few days while she has your apartment remodeled.”
I looked down at my table and considered it. The six screws holding the table leg together stared back at me. “I have some things in the apartment that would need to be moved first.”
“I already emptied the safe,” Kelsey said, pointing toward the duffle. “And the hidden gun cubby.”
“We should pack anything else you want to keep,” Bridget said. “That way, the contractors won’t have to decide what stays and goes.”
“Waiting for movers and finding a storage unit will take too long. I want to get back to the kids.” Kelsey said.
“Most of the furniture is junk,” I said, kicking the table leg and watching the table wobble. “There’s a vacant apartment next door. I can store what I want to keep there.”
I walked into the bedroom and emptied a box of miscellaneous crap onto the floor. I set the box on the bed and started packing knickknacks and memorabilia. By the time I made my way through the bedroom and bathroom, returning to the dining room, Kelsey had sorted my desk and file cabinets. Where they’d found the boxes, now full and stacked by the door, I didn’t know. Bridget had bagged the rest of my shoes and clothes in garbage bags. Spence remained sitting at the table, watching us, while he drank.
“You staying or coming with us?” I asked him.
Spence wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re imagining me in that hot tub, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know him,” Kelsey said, shaking her head. “I’m not willing to risk the kids’ safety on a stranger.”
I started to argue, but Spence held up a hand to stop me. “It’s fine. Besides, someone sent a shitload of business referrals my way. I’ll be running my ass off trying to keep up.”
“What about Beast?”
Spence shrugged. “He’s your partner until this is over. He goes where you go.”
Beast barked twice when he heard his name, jumping up. He trotted over and half sat on my feet, leaning his head into my thigh. I gave him a good scratch behind his ear.
Spence slid his now empty beer to the center of the table and stood. “I’ll help load the stuff you’re taking with you, then after you’re gone, I’ll move the rest to the vacant apartment.”
“I’ll help him,” Bridget said. “Then after I take some measurements, I’ll drive your car back to the mansion.”
“Not a good idea,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t want you here alone.”
“I’ll stay until she leaves,” Spence said. “I’ll keep an eye out for Mr. Tricky.”
“Mr. Tricky?” Kelsey asked.
I shrugged. “We needed a name to call the guy who’s after me. The name seemed to sum up the guy pretty good. He’s a slippery asshole.”
Bridget rolled her eyes and walked toward the door, but Spence stopped her with a hand on her forearm before she opened it. After moving her to the side, he unholstered his gun and glanced into the hall before nodding toward me. I grabbed the duffle in one hand and held my gun in the other as I led everyone out to the parking lot.
With Spence’s help, we were ready to roll after two trips. I cornered him before we left. “Don’t stay in the apartment tonight by yourself. It’s not safe.”
He grinned down at me as he lifted a hand and rubbed the pad of his thumb along my jawline. “Worried about me?”
I knocked his hand away. “No. I’m worried about the ribbing I’ll suffer from other cops if there’s a third dead body found in my building.”
His smile widened. “I have surveillance gear in my truck. I’ll leave after the rest of your stuff is moved and the motion activated cameras are installed. Your crappy apartment isn’t worth me losing my life. Hell, it’s not even worth me losing a good night’s sleep.”
I slapped him in the gut, but it just made him laugh.
“You can keep your cameras,” Bridget said, pulling a box from the SUV. “Tech sent some equipment with me.”
Two black SUVs pulled into the parking lot. All four of us pulled our guns.
Bones got out of the first, ignoring our guns as his eyes focused on Bridget. It took him a minute to see Spence standing next to us, but when he did, he smiled.
Not a smirk. Not a half smile. Bones. Smiled. His lips parted to display his perfectly straight bright white teeth.
“Russell Spencer,” Bones said, walking toward Spence. “I’ll be damned.”
Spence laughed, bear hugging Bones. “Bone-crusher. Good to see you, man.”
“Is my boyfriend smiling?” Bridget asked Kelsey.
“It appears so,” Kelsey answered, watching Bones and Spence.
The door on the second SUV opened and I saw the
lightness of the moment fade from Kelsey’s expression as Grady walked toward us. I ducked around Bones and Spence to stand beside Kelsey, offering her my support by proximity.
“Let’s go,” she said to me as her eyes shot lasers at Grady.
I opened the rear door of the SUV and whistled for Beast. He launched the ten-foot distance with enough energy to fuel a pack of toddlers for a week. I shook my head as I shut the door. “I’ll drive.” I took the keys from Kelsey’s hand and slid behind the wheel before she could argue.
When Kelsey slid into the passenger seat a minute later, she asked, “What’s the deal with the dog?”
“He’s my new partner. Spence loaned him to me.”
“We brought Nicholas’ new dog Jager with us. Think the dogs will get along?”
“I hope so. But for now, where I go, Beast goes.” I glanced at her, narrowing my eyes. “You got a problem with that?”
“You’re in a mood.”
“Wouldn’t you be?” I shook my head at her innocent expression as I drove out of the parking lot. “What if I showed up at your house, ordering you around?”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have been so bossy if you’d taken a few precautions to protect yourself.”
“Why the hell do you think Beast and Spence were there?”
“Who the hell is that guy? You’ve never mentioned him before. How do you know him?”
I tried to hide my grin as I turned right on the highway. “I met Spence a few nights ago when I broke into his house. We got to chatting about a case.”
“You know him that well, huh?” The sarcasm was so heated in her voice that I swear it raised the temperature in the vehicle.
“Since our initial meeting,” I said, throwing her a warning glance, “I’ve talked to Uncle Hank. He knows Spence and vouched for him.” I checked traffic before making a left on a one-way street. “I also know Spence is a good investigator. He tracked down Evie, one of the regular bartenders at the Outer Layer. She’d made one minor slip up, calling an old coworker, and Spence somehow tracked her from there. He’s good. And thankfully for Evie’s sake, he hesitated turning the information over to his client.”
“Is his client the reason Tech’s been cussing about an impossible phone trace?”