The frown deepened. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to help you.”
“Oh.” Abby was frowning now too. “Might I ask why?”
“Because these records are missing,” the woman replied. “I can’t say how or why. They would’ve been filed with us directly from the court. They should’ve been here all these years. But they aren’t.”
Something settled inside me. If we’d needed confirmation that we were on the right track, this was it.
“There are no records of the files being removed?” Abby asked. Did they even do that? I imagined a system like the library had, only for checking out files instead of books.
“I’m afraid not. Files aren’t removable, though you can request copies. And I show no records of that either.” The woman’s agitation was clear, her perfectly ordered world thrown into disarray. “The only way to track them down now would likely be through the lawyer who filed them.”
Abby met my gaze. We both knew how likely Chadwick was to hand over copies.
After thanking the lady, we exited the records office. “Now what?” Abby asked.
Good question. I wasn’t sure. “B and E?” I suggested, only half kidding.
Abby focused on that half and elbowed me, but I caught the edge of worry on her face as I trailed her to the upper floor.
“We’ll figure it out,” I assured her. We walked into the rotunda entry of the courthouse, me slightly trailing behind.
Abby came to an abrupt halt in front of me.
“What—”
And then I saw him too. Alan Chadwick stood at the opposite end of the room, his back almost turned to us as he talked with another man in a suit. Another lawyer, most likely.
I grabbed Abby’s arm. “Let’s go.”
But she pulled against my grip. “I have an idea,” she said, the spark of determination in her eyes spelling trouble.
I growled, that look putting me on high alert. “Abby, no—”
But she was already walking toward him. And I was getting angrier with every step she took closer to my enemy.
“Mr. Chadwick!”
I almost did a double take. The Abby I knew was the real woman, not the plastic, professional hostess her father had forced her to become before I kidnapped her. That old Abby slid over her skin like a mask, making her more remote and yet somehow more friendly. Fake. It was so fucking wrong it made my skin crawl.
And then Chadwick turned around, his gaze searching. And met mine over Abby’s shoulder.
Green looked good on him. At least from my perspective. I doubted he felt the same.
Good.
“Mr. Chadwick,” Abby said again. “I hope you don’t mind me interrupting.”
The man standing with him gave us a nod, walking away with a promise to call later. Chadwick managed to push back his anxiety and blank his expression.
“I am sorry; do I know you?” he asked pleasantly enough.
Good one. I almost believed it.
“I’m Abigail Roslyn,” she answered, sounding like she was in a tea parlor rather than facing down a man who’d ordered her murder, the destruction of her house. “I was a longtime client of Lance Heinz, as was my father.”
“Of course, of course.” He extended his hand, and I clamped down tight on the instinct to crush it before he could make contact with my woman.
“I wanted to express my condolences,” Abby said, extricating herself from his touch quickly yet politely. It was a good thing she possessed an abundance of social skills; from the way Chadwick kept glancing at me and the rigid feel of my face, I had basically zero social skills on display.
Which was just the way I liked it.
“Losing a partner of so many years must be difficult,” she was saying. “I’m not sure if you remember, but we’ve met a couple of times. When I was much younger.”
“Of course.” It seemed to be the only response he could give. That and a smile that was all teeth. “How could I forget such a lovely young woman?”
I managed to keep the growl in my chest right where it was. Barely.
“Lance was a great fan of your father’s,” Chadwick finally managed to get out.
“Yes, he contacted me recently. About some accounts I needed to look over. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to meet with him about them before he died.”
I gritted my teeth.
“Whom might I speak with now that he has passed?” she asked.
Over my dead body, I wanted to say but didn’t. Those accounts didn’t exist; we’d determined that much. And Chadwick would know that as well as we did. She was baiting the tiger, looking for a slipup.
Too bad for her that the animal snarling silently behind her had every intention of punishing her for putting herself in danger later. The rest of me waited avidly for Chadwick’s response, damn it.
“Ah.” He glanced between the two of us, never quite meeting my eyes, but I didn’t think that was wholly nerves. No, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide from me if I was able to look into his eyes. “As you can imagine, the suddenness of my partner’s death has left things in a bit of chaos. Manassas and I are doing what we can to take up the slack, but it will be a few weeks before we will have everything in order.”
A few weeks as in, right after my thirtieth birthday. It hadn’t escaped my notice that Chadwick hadn’t questioned who I was, nor introduced himself.
Was Manassas the other man I’d seen at the mansion? I made a mental note to look him up when we got back to the safe house.
“The way Lance talked, the matter was somewhat urgent,” Abby pointed out. “Perhaps I should check in with the accountant instead.”
A sheen of sweat popped up along Chadwick’s brow, but I had to hand it to him—he could bullshit as well as any lawyer I’d ever met. “Of course. That might be fastest. Have them make an appointment with my office should there be any questions.”
There would definitely be questions on nonexistent accounts. We all knew that.
“Thank you,” Abby said. “I’ll do that. Again, my condolences.”
She turned to leave. There was a moment, barely noticeable, when Chadwick and I stood face-to-face, no one between us. Just two killers measuring each other up. And that’s what he was. He might not have pulled the trigger on my parents, might not have thrown the Molotov cocktails himself, but Chadwick was responsible, and he knew it. I knew it.
And in that single moment, I let him see deep into me—the determination, the power, the ferocious need to hold his neck in my hands and snap it like a twig.
I was coming for him, and he could hire a thousand mercenaries, but they wouldn’t be able to stop me. He was a dead man walking, and in that moment, he knew it.
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re not going to spank me, Levi. Forget about it.”
“Sounds kinky,” Eli joked as Abby and I walked through the door to the safe house. “You think you know someone…”
“You’re going to want to spank her too.” My heart still hadn’t slowed after the shock of having her waltz up to Alan Chadwick and carry on an all-but-threatening conversation as if she had balls the size of grenades.
“Sounds even kinkier,” Eli said.
I leveled my meanest look on him. “She confronted Chadwick, right there in the courthouse.”
“What?”
Even Remi got in on that one. Both of my brothers turned from their computers, eyes wide, mouths hanging open. Both gradually narrowed glares on Abby as my words sank in.
“Damn right she needs a spanking,” Remi said.
“Try it and die, douchebag.” Abby threw her purse onto a chair and went to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water. “He needed to know we were on to him. And that we weren’t afraid.”
“He definitely knows,” I said.
Eli cocked his head. “The question is, what’s he going to do about it now?”
“With any luck after the death glare Levi gave him, he’ll fall back and regroup.” Abby chugged half the
bottle, all while eyeing me with satisfaction.
I stepped into her space, letting my death glare out the slightest bit. “Your ass is still mine, little bird,” I said so only she could hear.
Abby was getting too used to me; there wasn’t even a hint of cowering. Just a saucy wink that made me want to spank her all the more. “You wish.”
I did. But we could discuss kinky sex another time. Right now—
A distinctive ring sounded from the vicinity of the computers—the burner phone I’d only used with Detective Bryant. Eli passed it to me quickly.
“Agozi.”
“It’s Bryant.”
From the first word I knew something was up. The rush in his voice, the strain. I pulled the phone away from my ear and switched it to speaker. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to meet with you.”
His voice sounded even worse as it echoed through the room. The four of us exchanged identical frowns. “At the station?”
“No. Anywhere but there, actually.”
“What the hell is going on, Bryant? Just spill it.”
“My partner is in critical condition, that’s what’s going on,” he bit out. “I was almost fucking next. And I’ll be damned if I die over leads on what should’ve been a simple arson case. Is that enough for you?”
A small sound escaped Abby—concern. I felt it too. I didn’t trust anyone but family, but Bryant had warned us about Chadwick. That counted for something. “Tell me what happened.”
“I can’t say anything more. Just meet me. Someplace secure.”
I ran through a list of options in my head, finally settling on an abandoned convenience store on the edge of town that we’d used before. “Two hours.” We could wait till dark gave us the advantage, give ourselves time to put backup in place.
A gruff laugh, followed by a cough, came through. “In two hours I’ll be unconscious. They don’t let you walk away from a gunshot wound without doping you up. I managed to keep it to a minimum, but this hurts like hell and I’m no martyr.”
That explained the sound of his voice. Pain and painkillers. I raised an eyebrow at my brothers.
There are times when, despite all outward appearances, you have to trust your gut. My gut said Bryant was clean. And if he and his partner had been targeted…
Eli and Remi both nodded.
“Twenty minutes then.” I gave Bryant the address.
“I’ll be there.”
The line went dead in my ear. I turned to Remi. “Suit up.”
He didn’t question me. Neither did Eli when I asked him to stay with Abby. It was Abby who protested.
I gathered my things. “You’re not going.”
“But—”
“Here, little sis.” Eli handed her an earpiece just like the one I’d slipped into my ear. “Now you can hear everything as it happens, talk to him if you need to. And Levi can go in undistracted.”
Her body relaxed. It was the not knowing that got to her. I understood, but no fucking way was I allowing her to walk into danger.
I dropped Remi off a couple miles south of our target. He would come in on foot, keeping an eye out for anyone who shouldn’t be in the area, anyone showing too much interest in our location. There were no high buildings and very little cover around, so we should be safe from snipers. I pulled the SUV up behind the station, close to a heavy blue dumpster, and got out.
And immediately heard the coughing breath of Bryant nearby. The sound wasn’t wet, but the man wasn’t breathing normally either.
I pulled my gun, leaving it down by my thigh in case my gut was wrong. The smell of garbage filled my nose as I rounded the dumpster. “Bryant.”
The detective slouched against the building, his hearty olive skin showing a sickly undertone that confirmed the pain he was in. A bulky pad distorted the right shoulder of his shirt. I jerked my chin toward it. “Through and through?”
“Luckily. Ticker’s too old to be happy about the trauma, but I’ll manage.” Bryant’s gaze dropped to my weapon. “You don’t need that. My gun hand ain’t no good right now anyway. But I’m not here to take you out; I’m here to warn you.”
“Where’s your car?”
“Cab.” He shrugged, then grunted in pain. “Didn’t have my car at the hospital. Had him drop me off a couple blocks over.”
Covering his tracks. Good. I squatted down in front of him. “Your partner?”
Bryant swallowed, the sound a dry click in the quiet. “Benny took one to the throat. Touch and go. He has a wife and kids.” Bryant glared up at me. “I’m going to get the bastards who did this.”
And I’d help him. I glanced up to see Remi doing a slow jog across the street toward us. With a flick of my fingers, I signaled him over. When I turned back to Bryant, he was swaying against the concrete wall.
“Let’s get you in the SUV,” I said. Better protection. Besides, if he thought he was going to wait for another cab, he was sorely mistaken. We’d take him wherever he needed to go.
He weaved his way to the vehicle, pulling open the back door to crawl onto the bench seat. “Son of a bitch,” he bit out as his shoulder hit the cushions.
“Just a scratch.” I settled onto the seat next to him, Remi taking the driver’s seat.
“I’m fifty-three years old,” Bryant said grumpily. “At my age a scratch can kill me.”
“What the hell happened?” Remi asked, turning to give Bryant a close look.
The detective returned the favor. “You’re one of the brothers, aren’t ya? Can’t miss that resemblance.”
Remi scowled and kept his mouth shut.
Bryant shook his head. “Drive-by,” he croaked. Then cleared his throat. “A couple blocks from that lawyer’s office. Chadwick. The one in charge of your dad’s estate. We were going to check out the will and trust.”
My narrowed eyes met Remi’s.
“Black SUV came out of nowhere. No plates. I caught that much as I hit the pavement.” Bryant shrugged his left shoulder. “After that I was too busy yelling into the phone and keeping pressure on Benny so he didn’t bleed out in front of me.
“I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. The fire targeted you and your girl. My partner and I were asking questions about your parents’ estate, and ten minutes after we leave the squad room, where four or five people know who we’re going to question, we get gunned down? I’m not a patrol officer facing gangbangers every day; no way was this a coincidence,” he repeated.
“It’s too much like the bank,” Remi said.
It was.
“What bank?” Bryant asked.
I noticed him swaying a bit, his eyes glazing even more—pain meds getting the better of him—but didn’t mention it. “We had a similar incident earlier this week, before the fire. At a meeting set up by Abby’s lawyer, Lance Heinz.”
“The one who’s dead?”
“Yeah, that one.”
Bryant’s brow furrowed. “Definitely not a coincidence, then. Is it possible he knew you and Abby were connected somehow? Were you dating before her father died?”
The likelihood that Heinz had known, had possibly been involved in hiring me in the first place, was high. And after Roslyn had tracked me down through Remi, well, we hadn’t had the option of disguises in the hospital. Facial recognition on my brother could’ve given them enough to go on.
“Anything’s possible.” And the chances were high that the two lawyers had somehow compared notes and made connections.
And because of those connections, a cop was lying in the hospital, knocking at death’s door.
“Have you ever heard of Hacr Technologies?” Bryant asked.
The name was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I glanced at Remi, who shook his head.
“It was our father’s tech company,” Eli said in my ear, startling me. I’d known our father was involved in communications research, but had never felt the need to investigate further. Obviously Eli had.
When I passed the informat
ion along, Bryant nodded. “Haven’t seen the paperwork yet, but I do know your dad founded the company and was a majority shareholder. Other than his inheritance from his father, there’s nothing else in his background that might account for whatever the hell is going on here.” Bryant shifted in his seat, and blood drained from his face. He needed to get out of here and get more pain meds soon. “My uneducated guess is something in the trust involves that company.”
I’d say his uneducated guess was right based on my gut. But I knew Remi and Eli would be researching the second we got back. Hell, Eli was probably already on the computer, digging.
Bryant’s faded blue eyes locked with mine, his intensity burning bright despite the wearing of age. “They want to make whatever this is go away. They came after you, and now they’ve come after me. They want it all to die—the questions, the trust, everything connected with your name. They can’t keep the contents of the trust secret unless you and anyone else who knows about you are gone. It’s the only way to protect whatever it is they want.”
I wasn’t worried about me, or even my brothers, really. Rathlin’s army be damned; Chadwick wouldn’t be able to get to us, not now that we knew what we were up against. But if Bryant’s partner died? I might be an assassin, but I still had a conscience. I’d carry that stain forever.
“The question is, how do we stop them from going after anyone else?”
“The only person with access to the intel we need is trying to kill us,” Remi pointed out. “It’s hard to put the puzzle pieces together without the pieces.”
“Right.” Silence settled between us until I heard a click in my ear, then Abby's voice.
“Levi?”
“What?”
I heard some rustling like she was fidgeting in her seat. Then, “They want anyone who knows you’re alive to disappear, right?”
“Right.”
“Then we make sure as many people know your name as we possibly can,” she said, a lilt to the words that told me she was enjoying the thought of thwarting our enemies. “They can’t kill them all.”
My eyes met Remi’s, knowing he’d heard Abby’s words too. The wicked smile that spread across his face told me all I needed to know. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in years. Let’s make you a celebrity, brother.”
Assassin's Prey (Assassins Book 3) Page 9
