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Fatal Legacy

Page 30

by Rebecca Deel


  The sniper stopped the SUV. “Orders?”

  “Go. Jon, we’re going in.”

  “Copy. Watch your six.”

  “Roger that.” As soon as the SUV’s bumper cleared the wall, the gates closed, locking them inside Wright’s estate.

  Del watched Ivy make another circuit of the living room. Well, this wasn’t good. Her cousin had lasted 30 minutes before fidgeting. At the 45-minute mark, she’d trekked to the kitchen for water. Again for a Coke. Last time she returned with a cookie. Now she would wear the shine off the wood floor if she didn’t distract her.

  “I have to go outside.”

  “Can’t. We have a job, though.”

  She hopped around to face Del. “What? Anything.”

  Del grinned. “Be careful making that promise. I might con you into doing my spring cleaning at the store.”

  “I’m not stupid. Notice I didn’t make that statement while in your store. What’s the job?”

  “Jon didn’t have time to trace those numbers, but he does think they’re connected to a Swiss bank account. We need to find the bank, plug in the numbers and see what Wright wants so badly.”

  “Is that all?” Ivy’s voice sounded faint.

  “There’s a laptop we can use in the security room.”

  “What’s in the security room?” Stella stopped in the doorway, a couple bottles of water in her hands.

  “A laptop.”

  “Why do you need one?”

  “For the Swiss bank that matches those numbers.”

  “Tall order.”

  “Is there another computer?” Del asked. “I want to research Catherine Wright. Not sure it will help, but knowing her might give us something we can use.”

  “Agreed. I brought a laptop. You can use mine.”

  “Thanks.” Kept her mind occupied. Knowing Josh was on a dangerous mission made her skin crawl with anxiety. Future missions probably meant overtime at the store. In fact, she might save the store’s spring cleaning for the next time he planned an operation with his team. She smiled. Perfect game plan to survive his absence and the lack of communication. Whatever it took to give him his dream. She loved Josh Cahill enough to let him do what he was trained to do. She prayed, though, the missions would be spread out. Too many close together might give her an ulcer.

  “I’ll meet you in the security room.” Stella climbed to the second floor.

  “What are you hoping to learn about Catherine?” Ivy asked.

  “I don’t know. Since Catherine was murdered, there should be a bunch of information out there. Reporters love to dig up dirt on people.” Including the things Josh didn’t want her to know. She hadn’t forgotten the pointed looks he and his team shared when she asked what happened to Catherine. Del hoped the reporters weren’t too descriptive because if she found out exactly what Xavier Wright was capable of, she might not be much help to Josh.

  Ivy grinned. “I’m telling Meg Kelter you said that.”

  “Nobody heard me but you, Ivy. Who will corroborate your story?”

  “I will,” Deke called out from the security room. “I heard every word you said.” Amusement rang in his voice.

  “Remember who has power over your meals,” Del warned.

  “Ouch. Good grief, lady, I thought you liked me.”

  “I do, but I’m not above blackmail. Meg has a mean streak and I don’t want it turned on me. You can leave Otter Creek. I live there.”

  “Is she really that bad?” He glanced over his shoulder as they trooped into the room, skepticism evident in his expression.

  “Once she bites down on something, she doesn’t let go. That includes a good grudge.”

  The marshal made a face. “Can’t say the press are among my favorite people.”

  “She’s one of mine,” Del said, pulling out a chair near the laptop for Ivy, then laid the paper with the numbers beside the computer. “Meg is one of my best customers.”

  “She’s also Josh’s sister,” Ivy added. She stowed the crutches under the table.

  “Here’s my laptop.” Stella placed the computer on the desk next to Ivy. She rattled off the password and seated herself in front of the bank of monitors. “Take a break, Deke. I’ll keep the ladies out of trouble.”

  “Good luck with that,” he muttered and made good his escape before Del and Ivy had finished protesting their innocence.

  “He’s been awake more than 24 hours,” Stella said. “The jerk let me sleep instead of waking me to take my normal shift.”

  Ivy glanced at the doorway. “What if someone tries to take us while he’s sleeping? Will he wake fast enough?”

  “Oh, yeah. Deke completed a four-year stint in the military. He’ll be alert as soon as I say his name.”

  “Must be nice,” Ivy said as she began searching Swiss banks. “Takes me at least two cups of coffee to be coherent in the mornings.”

  “Same here.” Stella adjusted one of the monitors. “What about you, Del?”

  “It’s green tea or a Coke for me. Never did learn to like coffee.”

  “Good thing you like the scent of it,” Ivy said. “Madison keeps the coffee pot filled at The Bare Ewe.”

  “Who’s Madison?” Stella asked.

  “Another of Josh’s three sisters.” Del booted up Stella’s laptop and keyed in the password. “We share retail space and we’re business partners.”

  “Books and knitting go together?”

  “Absolutely. There are a lot of good books that mention knitting, not the least of which is Agatha Christie’s Jane Marple.”

  “She was some old lady who solved mysteries, right?”

  Oh, boy. Del hoped the Christie Club members never heard Stella talk about Miss Marple that way. “If you stop by my store, I’ll give you one of her books to try.”

  “I read biographies, not fiction.” She sounded skeptical.

  “I have biographies about Ms. Christie. I’ll include one of those as well. What do you have to lose?”

  “True. All right, I’ll take you up on the offer.”

  Del used her favorite search engine to call up information on Catherine Wright. More than a million hits. She clicked on the first link and started reading. The more articles she scanned, the more sick she felt. No wonder Josh hadn’t wanted her to know what Catherine suffered. His determination to keep her a long way from Wright and his utter frustration that he might be forced to change his plan was understandable. However, if that was the only way to capture this monster and dismantle his organization, Del would find the courage. With Durango and the SEALs, how could she lose? A sigh escaped. Right. Didn’t matter who was with her, fear would play a big role in that meeting. Her fear. She figured Wright for the kind of man to gloat over his victory in capturing his elusive prey.

  One report mentioned Catherine’s two sons, ages 8 and 10. “Huh.” That would explain the strange markings in chapters 8 and 10.

  “What is it?” Ivy’s hands hovered over the keyboard.

  “Catherine’s two sons are 8 and 10.”

  “Nice. Anything else in the news reports?”

  “Nothing good. Xavier Wright is ruthless. If he was behind his sister’s death, he is cruel and evil.”

  “You can bank on it,” Stella said.

  “Yes!” Ivy pumped her fist into the air. Her eyes sparkled, a big grin on her face.

  “You found the bank?”

  “Oh, yeah, baby, I found the bank.”

  “What’s all the ruckus?” Rio leaned against the door jamb, a light sheen of sweat on his brow, a bottle of water in one hand.

  Del’s eyes narrowed. He looked more heavily armed than the last time she’d seen him in uniform. If she had to hazard a guess, she’d say his medic kit was close by as well.

  “I found the bank with Catherine Wright’s money.”

  “What’s the balance in account?”

  “A lot of reasons for Wright’s desperation. Thirty billion of them.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

/>   As soon as Josh stepped from the SUV, he took on the persona of Chase Mckenzie just as he knew Alex became Dean Malloy. The bronze double-doors were opened by a genuine butler. Josh walked through the doorway, followed by Alex. Gaze sweeping the interior of the palatial home, he decided he much preferred Del’s cozy house or his apartment to this museum. A showplace, to be sure, but no heart. Home should be a place to relax, a refuge from the world. Wright’s house was not a home.

  Two big bruisers appeared. One stepped forward. “No one sees Mr. Wright with weapons on them. You’ll hand over all of them before you see him.”

  Josh’s lip curled. “No.”

  Thug One scowled. “Wasn’t a suggestion.”

  “Tell Wright to find someone else.” Though it went against every instinct he had, Josh turned his back on Thugs One and Two and started for the door. He knew Alex would watch the two men as he headed outside, his back to Josh’s. He’d taken five steps when a voice stopped him.

  “Mr. McKenzie, Mr. Malloy. Forgive the overzealousness of my employees. They are protective and loyal.”

  He turned, stepped to the left side of Alex. A man about six inches shorter than Josh stood on the other side of the foyer, black eyes cold, hard. So this was the infamous Xavier Wright, the man responsible for Catherine’s death whether or not he actually took part in it. He took his time committing every detail to memory. “You pay them to be loyal.”

  Color suffused Wright’s face at Josh’s reminder that the gunrunner was not in control of this transaction.

  “Come with me.” Wright eyed both men. “A word of warning. If you harm me in any way, you won’t leave this house alive.”

  Neither Josh nor Alex responded. Wright either took them into his confidence or he didn’t. If he didn’t, they’d fight their way out of the estate.

  After another few seconds of the standoff, Wright caved and led them to an opulent office. A large Persian rug covered the hardwood floor. Josh took in the L-shaped Teak desk, paintings by Monet on the walls, and two doors. One led outside. He bet the other opened into a panic room or another avenue of escape.

  The gunrunner waved at two delicate chairs situated in front of his desk. Neither accepted the invitation. Harder to maneuver if they were caught in a chair. The move also served to irritate Wright since his short stature already put him at a disadvantage. Because they remained standing, he also had to stand to avoid giving them the upper hand.

  “Details of the job.” Josh folded his arms across his chest.

  “Find two women. They have a book which belonged to my sister. I want it back.”

  “A book. Why don’t you buy another copy? Be a whole lot cheaper.”

  “My sister is dead. She meant the world to me. I want her book.”

  The fake heartbreak over Catherine’s death made Josh want to plow a fist in his face as did the fact this man threatened his girlfriend and her cousin. “Not buying it. Lie to me again and our negotiations are finished.”

  Wright frowned. “I’m the one paying for your services. My motivation doesn’t matter.”

  “You aren’t paying us yet. What’s so important about this book? Is it a rare book or a first edition?”

  A snort in response to Josh’s suggestions. “It’s a recent paperback by Nora Roberts.”

  Josh cocked his head. “Something in it, perhaps?”

  He stiffened. “What do you know about it?”

  “What you just told me. The name of the book?”

  “How should I know? I don’t read that stuff.”

  Yeah, he suspected the gunrunner didn’t read anything. His glance around the room had revealed no books. Of course, the man could have been an ebook fanatic, but Josh didn’t think so. Being around Meg and Del had educated him on the book habits of serious readers. “You want us to find two women and bring every Nora Roberts book in their possession to you?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And the women?”

  “Bring them to me. I’ll extend my own special brand of hospitality to them.”

  In his ear, Jon whispered. “Feds on the move. Headed your direction.”

  Josh clamped down on his temper, forced his hands to remain relaxed. Knew Jordan would screw this up. Question was could the fed carry off whatever powerplay he’d concocted without giving Josh and Alex away.

  He stared at the human snake standing a few feet from him. Josh had seen the M.E.’s report about Wright’s hospitality. The only way this man would touch Del and Ivy was if he managed to kill Josh, Alex, the rest of Durango, the marshals, and the Fortress operatives. In other words, not happening in this lifetime.

  And just as Josh had feared, he needed Del to bring down Xavier Wright. “Transportation of the women is extra. They won’t come willingly.”

  “Just get them here. Money is no object.”

  “Good. One million for each woman and an extra million for carting books.”

  “That’s outrageous!”

  “You asked for the best,” Alex said. “The best doesn’t come cheap. We always achieve our objective.”

  “For that price, you better.” Wright’s cold eyes glittered. “Failure comes with a steep penalty.”

  A knock on the door. Thug One stepped in. “We have a problem, sir. The FBI is at the gate, demanding entrance.”

  “Let them in.” He returned his gaze to Josh, then Alex. “We should introduce them to our new friends.”

  Ah. Had to give the man points for double-checking that they weren’t a plant. Unfortunately for Wright, Josh and Alex were working for more than one cop shop. Now if the feds didn’t give away the game, they might have a chance to pull this off and get out in one piece or at least with no extra holes in their bodies.

  “I need names, Wright. Can’t track down your books without the names of the women.”

  “Del Peterson and Ivy Monroe. They live in some podunk town in east Tennessee.”

  “We’ll find them,” Josh said as feet tromped down the hall. He steeled himself and turned to the door.

  Jordan was through the door first, followed by another flunky Josh recognized. To his credit, Craig Jordan showed absolutely no recognition of Josh and Alex as his gaze slid over them. He flipped his cred wallet open for Wright to examine. “Special Agent Craig Jordan. My associate, Gil Townsend. We have questions regarding the death of your sister, Catherine.”

  “Again? I answered questions for hours several times. The cops came up with nothing.”

  “Yeah? Those weren’t my questions, Wright. You don’t have to answer them. However, I’ll take that as a sign you have something to hide and you’ll move up on my list of suspects for her murder.”

  Josh shifted, eyed Wright. “We’ll be in touch.” He moved toward the door only to have his progress impeded by the junior agent in his path. He waited while the younger agent sized him up.

  “ID,” Townsend said. His eyes glinted with a serious case of dislike.

  Slow and easy, he reached into his back pocket for his wallet with the fake identity inside. Wouldn’t give Junior a reason to haul him out in handcuffs. Townsend examined the driver’s license. A measure of respect showed in his eyes as he returned it. He gave Alex’s fake ID a mere glance.

  A nod at Wright and he and his partner left the house, climbed back into their SUV and drove out the gates.

  After sending Ivy, romance book in hand, to the couch to elevate her foot, Del trekked to the kitchen. She needed to do something with her hands, something which required concentration to distract her from what she’d learned about Catherine’s death. She swallowed hard. How that poor woman had suffered.

  A hunt around the kitchen turned up a Betty Crocker cookbook. She knew just which recipe to use if the ingredients were available. Del checked the pantry and found chocolate chips, vanilla extract, sugar, and flour. Now if the guys hadn’t run through every egg in the refrigerator, she was in business. Finding eggs and butter, she collected the ingredients she needed for chocolate chip cookies. No
thing beat the scent of fresh-baked cookies.

  She measured and mixed ingredients, dug out baking sheets, and dropped spoonfuls of the gooey goodness on the pans. A quick wipe of her hands and she popped the first batch in the oven.

  By the time she finished cleaning the pan from her final batch of baked cookies, Del had eaten more than one. Okay, no use kidding herself. She’d downed four of the cookies while they were pipping hot. Best way to eat them.

  “Hey, you sharing or what?” Ivy hopped into the kitchen, dragging her crutches in one hand.

  “Crutches work better under your arms.”

  “My arms are sore.” She climbed on the barstool, held out a hand. “Hand them over.”

  With a laugh, Del dropped four cookies on a small plate for her cousin. “Drink?”

  “Iced tea if the herd of men in this house didn’t drink it all.”

  “Do you think Stella might like a few?”

  “Who wouldn’t? These are amazing.”

  She grinned and pulled out two more plates, suspecting Rio would like some as well. Maybe a Coke for each. Del carried the cookies and drinks into the security room on a tray she’d found in a cupboard.

  Stella and Rio turned at her entrance. Rio’s eyes lit up. “Cookies. That’s what smells so mouthwatering.”

  “I brought enough for you both.”

  Stella’s eyes widened at the pile of cookies on the plates. “We can’t possibly eat that many cookies.”

  “Speak for yourself, lady,” the medic said, grabbing his first treat from the tray. “I’ll eat what you don’t.” He paused, cookie halfway to his mouth. “Do we need to save some for the rest of the team?”

  “I doubled the recipe. There’s plenty.”

  Satisfied his teammates would share in the bounty, Rio devoured the cookie in his hand and reached for another when a chime sounded in the room. He swung around, scanned the screens, rose. “Durango’s back. Stay on the screens, Stella. And don’t eat all the cookies.” He strode from the room, Del close on his heels.

  “Ivy, the guys are back.”

  A thump greeted her call, along with muttered words, followed by the sound of crutches. By the time she heard gravel crunching underneath SUV tires, Ivy had joined her in the living room. Within a minute, Josh and Alex entered the doorway, followed by the rest of their team. None of them looked happy.

 

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