Brotherhood Protectors: Vigilante Justice (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Jordan Dane's Mercer's War Series Book 3)

by Jordan Dane

“Of that, I am certain,” Mercer said. “You’ve finally said something I can believe.”

  Ciara pressed her for more answers, but Danielle only offered her smug attitude over what happened to Tanaka. Mercer couldn’t rule out that the woman might’ve been involved in Tanaka’s beating, but why have him abducted? Maybe she lured the wrong men, guys who were looking for an excuse to carry out a hate crime, and things escalated without her knowing it, but he didn’t feel obliged to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  “I don’t know what happened to him, but I don’t ever want to see that loser again,” Danielle said.

  Mercer stared into the woman’s eyes and didn’t see an ounce of remorse or empathy.

  “I’ve heard enough,” he said. “Don’t leave town.”

  Mercer and Ciara headed for the SUV. After Six growled, Kujo didn’t bother to correct his dog before he offered his only explanation to Danielle.

  “He’s a good judge of character.”

  ***

  Outside Helena, Montana

  Noon

  Keiko Kayakova checked off another vehicle and name on her list of black F150 truck owners, a compilation from Nilah, as she sat next to Stetson in their rental SUV.

  An investigation often meant long hours of tedious surveillance or running down leads. On any other mission, she might have been paired with Mercer, but Stetson Debenham, his second in command, had made a suitable substitute. He stood as tall as Mercer at six-foot five-inches and had a breathtaking body of pure muscle. He filled out his Wranglers in all the right places.

  If she ever needed physical gratification any time, day or night, Stetson had never refused her.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked and he started the engine, heading for the next address on the list.

  “That depends if you’re talking about food.”

  Stetson did a double take and grinned.

  “Why, Miss Kayakova, what on earth do you mean?”

  When he lavished on his Texas accent and grinned like a horny school boy, she glanced at him with the glimmer of a smile. She didn’t have the same feelings for him as she did for Mercer, but Stetson gave her what she wanted, when she wanted it. He had a charm she found endearing.

  Before she had time to answer him, she received a call. She glanced at the display and answered without hesitation.

  “Keiko, it’s me, Nilah.”

  “What’s up? We’re going through your list of truck owners.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m calling.” Nilah sounded breathless. “I found an interesting name on that list. Not the name exactly, but who the guy is related to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Scott Welch owns one of those trucks. He’s the only son of the wealthy town mayor, Travis Welch. It may be nothing, but I thought you should know about the political connection before you questioned the guy. He could give you trouble if he’s not getting enough fiber in his diet.”

  Keiko raised an eyebrow.

  “Thanks for the heads up. We shall proceed with caution.”

  Stetson grimaced and shrugged.

  “Caution? That doesn’t sound like us,” he said.

  “Exactly.”

  Keiko looked down the list and searched for the name of Scott Welch. After she plugged his address into the GPS system, she smiled. With it being a weekend, Keiko thought there would be a good chance he could be found at home.

  “Change of plans.”

  Things suddenly became more interesting.

  ***

  Bozeman, Montana

  Afternoon

  The law offices of Bradshaw and Loftin were located off Main Street in downtown Bozeman, a contemporary design of high-end stone and glass with marble floors and pricey modern furnishings and vivid oil paintings. Mercer walked into the extravagant atrium with Ciara and had no doubt about the lucrative operation of the law firm.

  Kujo had taken his dog, Six, down the block to a nearby park for exercise. He couldn’t stomach playing games with a lawyer. Mercer couldn’t blame him.

  “If they have a dress code, we’re both in trouble.” Ciara tugged at her jean jacket and brushed the top of her boots against the back of her pant legs, her version of a spit shine.

  “We’re here for Ichiro,” Mercer said. “If we can ease the minds of his poor parents, it’ll be worth talking to a damned lawyer.”

  He pointed to the building suite directory and headed toward it until he realized the law firm occupied the whole top floor. Any elevator would take them to their destination of the penthouse.

  Mercer grabbed the first elevator with Ciara and hit the top floor. A massive reception desk stood like a wall to be scaled. Two young women sat behind the circular counter, both dressed impeccably in couture dresses, wearing too much makeup, with their hair styled for fashion week in New York as if they expected to walk a runway.

  His companion gave him a side eye that made it unnecessary for her to speak her mind at all. Ciara Flowers, his weapons expert, had more use for body armor or the perfect buttstock than a pencil skirt.

  Mercer had learned about fashion from his beautiful wife. She always took pleasure in educating him on the latest trend, just to see him squirm—and he loved her for the way she teased him.

  “A buck for your thoughts,” Ciara whispered to him as they approached the receptionists.

  “You’d want change,” Mercer said under his breath before he stepped up to the kiosk. “We’re here to see Ms. Rebecca Bradshaw.”

  He gave their names to one of the young women.

  “Is she expecting you?’

  “Not many people do.”

  The woman scrunched her face and said, “Have a seat. I’ll let her executive assistant know you’re here. She has a very busy afternoon. No guarantees.”

  “I understand.”

  An hour later, Mercer paced the floor and stared at the young women behind the reception desk. He noticed Ciara fighting a smile, knowing his impatience had been a ploy to convey a message his fortitude had worn thin. He’d been a sniper, which meant he had an infinite capacity to endure.

  As he contemplated his next move to draw attention, a petite blonde greeted them and ushered Mercer and Ciara through a secured glass door and into a conference room near the front.

  “Can I get you coffee or water?”

  Mercer shook his head and Ciara did the same.

  “No thank you.”

  “Ms. Bradshaw will be with you shortly.”

  Mercer had done enough sitting and stepped toward the floor to ceiling windows to look out onto the park where Kujo had taken Six. It took him only a moment to find the man with his German shepherd. To see Kujo work with his dog made Mercer realize how much he missed Karl.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting. My name is Rebecca Bradshaw.”

  He turned to see an attractive woman with auburn, shoulder-length hair, dressed in a pale pink blouse and a navy linen suit, with pearls at her throat. She stared at him as if she knew him, but attractive women had many weapons in their arsenal. Rebecca Bradshaw was no exception.

  “My name is Mercer Broderick and this is my associate, Ciara Flowers. We’re here to talk to you about Ichiro Tanaka.”

  “I see,” she said. “What is your interest in Mr. Tanaka?”

  Before he answered, the woman waved her hand and asked them to sit at the conference table. Mercer obliged her and Ciara followed his lead.

  “His family and close friends have hired my team to look into his recent abduction in Helena, Montana.”

  Recognition spread across the woman lawyer’s face at the news.

  “I read about his disappearance in the newspaper.” She nodded. “What do you think I can do to help? You obviously came here for a reason.”

  “It’s come to our attention that you and your firm solicited the Tanaka family for a legal document—a Power of Attorney—to allow your firm to act on behalf of Ichiro while he is separated from his parents, who are living in Japan. Can you explain why
your firm reached out to them?”

  “I’m afraid that’s subject to attorney client privilege.”

  “That’s only if the Tanaka family executed that document, making you the family attorney.” Mercer smiled, correcting her assertion.

  Ms. Bradshaw only smiled, the humor gone from her eyes.

  “Whether we have a legal relationship with Ichiro Tanaka or not, the business of this firm is none of your concern.”

  “Would you mind educating me on why someone like Ichiro might need a lawyer with an executed Power of Attorney to operate on his behalf? I’m not familiar with immigration law.”

  He lied, but wanted to hear what she would answer.

  “We’ve found it puts parents’ minds at ease if someone has legal Power of Attorney to handle their child’s affairs if they are separated from them, or become separated in a sudden deportation situation. It’s a formality. We don’t abuse the privilege. We only handle legal matters should the need arise.”

  Rebecca Bradshaw presented a reasonable case in light of the recent immigration law changes. An honest attorney would certainly come in handy for parents living abroad, worried over the security of their children in the foreign country of America. But Mercer lived in a world where people had ulterior motives, frequently unlawful. It would be a simple matter to take advantage of worried mothers and fathers who would sign anything to insure their children had a proper legal guardian, but to what end?

  The fact that Rebecca Bradshaw had solicited Ichiro’s parents, without an initial inquiry from the family, raised a red flag for Mercer and the woman lawyer hadn’t changed his mind. He didn’t trust her. His hinky radar sent annoying blips through his mind, like the steady tick of a grating clock.

  “If your firm doesn’t represent Ichiro Tanaka with a Power of Attorney, why hide that fact?” he asked. “Why not tell us the truth? If we’ve hit a dead end and there’s nothing for us to pursue with your firm, it might allow us to move on.”

  She smiled.

  “Either way, I’ve accomplished that, without an admission of anything. I wouldn’t presume to dictate how you should investigate his disappearance. Are we finished?”

  Mercer narrowed his eyes.

  “Have you done this with other immigrants that might be in a similar situation to the Tanaka family?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Her utter composure unraveled with a faint facial tic he almost missed.

  Mercer deliberately asked a question for which he already knew the answer, thanks to the diligence of Nilah and her thorough background checks and computer savvy searches. No firewall could stop her.

  Several of the missing young people mentioned in Nilah’s research had listed Bradshaw and Loftin as their attorneys on their immigration filings. Mercer’s computer genius hadn’t fully researched the names, but Mercer had enough to make the assumption that Rebecca Bradshaw might have an ulterior motive in contacting immigrants.

  He’d have to dig for the real reason why.

  “I don’t see that is any of your concern. I don’t have anything more to say on Ichiro Tanaka, which means we are done here. Have a good day.”

  Rebecca Bradshaw stood and buttoned her suit jacket, looking down her nose at Mercer and Ciara as if she’d outplayed them. A slow smile spread across his face.

  Nothing could be further from the truth.

  ***

  Outside Helena, Montana

  “We’ve got company.” Stetson glanced into the rearview mirror of the Lincoln Navigator as he spoke to his passenger and partner, Keiko. “How do you want to play this?”

  Keiko shifted her eyes toward the side mirror to see a police patrol cruiser following them with its light bar flashing. With no one else on the road, there was no mistaking the spiraling red and blue lights were meant for them to pull over.

  “We play nice, unless he gives us a reason not to.”

  When the officer parked behind them, Keiko couldn’t see the man through the shadows inside the vehicle, not until he stepped out of the cruiser. When she saw his face, she rolled her eyes.

  “This can’t be good. Why does it have to be Andy of Mayberry? Why can’t we ever get Barney Fife?”

  “Someone needs their TV privileges seriously curtailed.”

  Keiko ignored Stetson as she kept her eyes on her side mirror. She had a feeling Chief Myerson didn’t normally work patrol, but had made a special exception for them.

  “Be on your best behavior, Stetson. The officer who pulled us over is the Police Chief.”

  Stetson rolled down his driver’s side window and waited.

  “License and registration,” the man said.

  Before Stetson complied, he had something to declare.

  “It’s my duty to report that we have weapons in the vehicle, along with our permits to carry.” Stetson kept his hands on the steering wheel and didn’t make any sudden moves. Keiko followed his lead. “Talk us through what you’d like us to do and we’ll comply. We don’t want any trouble.”

  “Driver, out of the vehicle.” The Police Chief stepped back and pulled his service weapon. “Stay in the car with your hands on the dashboard, Miss. No sudden moves.”

  Stetson placed both his hands out the window and opened the door from the outside, so the Chief would see every move. When he stepped out of the vehicle, the man waggled the muzzle of his weapon toward the SUV and gave another order.

  “Assume the position and spread ‘em.”

  Stetson placed his hands on the roof of the vehicle and let the man search him. Although he respected law enforcement and appreciated the potential danger of traffic stops, he figured Myerson had clearly seen too many cop shows on TV. He hoped the man wouldn’t do the same with Keiko. She had weapons hidden in places Myerson would find hard to fathom.

  “My name is Stetson Debenham, sir. Miss Kayakova and I are looking into the disappearance of Ichiro Tanaka. You spoke with—”

  Chief Myerson stopped him.

  “Yes, I spoke with your hardheaded boss.”

  “Yep, that’d be him.”

  Myerson went through the paces of locating their weapons and confirming their permits, license and vehicle rental agreement, before he let his guard down and holstered his weapon.

  “What are you doing on this road?”

  “Taking in the sights. You have a beautiful town, Chief.”

  “You wouldn’t have a mind to visit the mayor, would you?” Chief Myerson raised an eyebrow and glared at him. “He’s the only landowner out this way. You’ve been driving along his property line for the last hour.”

  “The last hour?” Stetson shrugged. “That’s impressive.”

  “Well?” Myerson handed back his license and rental agreement.

  “No, we’re not here to visit the mayor. No, sir. It’s tempting, but absolutely not.” Stetson pointed a finger to his chest and made a lazy sign of the cross. “I promise you, that’s the honest to God truth. I admire the fine folks who work in service to others, but I’m not too fond of politicians. Their affinity to speak from both sides of their mouths at the same time, it’s unnatural.”

  Myerson fixed his steely eyes on Stetson and waited for him to flinch. When he didn’t, the man hoisted his duty belt and raised his chin.

  “If you had no intention of paying a call on our good mayor, you won’t mind turning around and heading back to town.”

  Stetson grinned. He knew when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em.

  “No, sir. Don’t mind at all. That sounds like good advice. I’m getting’ hungry anyway.”

  Stetson climbed back behind the wheel and shut the window. Chief Myerson waited until he pulled out to make sure he would head back to Helena.

  “He is a cautious soul. Can’t say there’s anything wrong with that, but at the moment, it’s highly vexing.”

  Stetson kept his eyes on the rearview mirror as he pulled away. He had no intention of letting Chief Myerson win.

  “Did you bring night vis
ion gear, Miss Kayakova?”

  She smiled.

  “Doesn’t every woman, Mr. Debenham?”

  ***

  Ichiro brushed aside a gnat that buzzed his face, careful not to kill it. Although he envied the insect’s freedom, he refused to resent the tiny creature. Every living thing had its place, but as exhaustion set in, his eyes stung with fatigue and his emotions teetered on the brink of desperation.

  He hadn’t slept all night. After he heard Gabriela crying and pleading for mercy, he got to his feet and banged on the metal door. No one came. Someone must’ve taken her. He’d hobbled across the stone floor for what felt like an eternity, waiting for her to return, but she never did.

  His head throbbed and his body ached like a massive bruise. Sharp pains from his ribs jolted him whenever he breathed too deeply or coughed, but his misery didn’t measure up to the fear he heard in Gabriela’s voice before she’d been taken from her cell.

  Ichiro hated thinking of what might’ve happened to her.

  Something in the frailty of her voice made him want to protect her, even if it meant with his life. He knew that sounded crazy, considering he’d never even seen her, yet he also understood it to be true, as if he’d always known it.

  When he heard a distant creak outside his cell, he rushed to his door and listened for Gabriela. He wanted to call out to her, but something kept him from making a sound. Footsteps grew louder. Whoever walked down the corridor, it had to be more than one—and a voice in his head wouldn’t stop.

  This time, they’re coming for you.

  Without making a sound, Ichiro backed away from the door and sought refuge in the shadows of his cell. As adrenaline assaulted his body, his heart hammered until he felt the vibration in his chest and heard the pulsing in his ears.

  Something wasn’t right. If they were returning Gabriela, why didn’t he hear her voice or the sound of them dragging her? Ichiro swallowed, hard. As a key slid into the lock on his door, he held his breath.

  Whatever happened to Gabriela, he would soon know the truth.

  Chapter 7

  Minutes later