Dangerously Involved

by Sidney Bristol

  “Not Theodore, miss. Douglas?”

  Oh, shit.

  Yvonne picked up her phone and turned from the table.

  She’d heard about last night’s fiasco. Two of the bodyguards had to haul Douglas back to the hotel when he tried to run off to some party with people he didn’t know.

  The man had no sense.

  Yvonne pulled up the location sharing service and taped Douglas’ icon.

  It wasn’t registering signal, which meant he’d turned his phone off.

  “I’ll find him,” she said to the young woman. “Thank you for letting me know.”

  Yvonne glanced at her watch. This meeting was almost over. Yes, it was rude to slip out early, but her idiot brother was at work again. Instead of her doing actual work, she was going to run around playing nursemaid to her spoiled little brother.

  Was this all she was good for?

  She gathered her things as the organizer adjourned the meeting. Yvonne was able to slip out ahead of the rush.

  Nolan was there, a frown etched into his sharp features, his eyes somehow greener today than before.

  She caught his eye and jerked her head toward the elevator.

  They couldn’t talk here. Too many people.

  He fell into step beside her. The crowd thickened as other sessions let out.

  Nolan stepped in closer and placed his hand on her back, ushering her forward while weaving them through the crowd.

  “We have a situation,” she whispered to him as they reached the elevators.

  “Douglas?” Nolan’s frown deepened.

  “Yes.”

  “On it.”

  He kept their bodies close together and reached up to his left ear, tapping the earpiece she’d seen and said, “Family meeting, five minutes.”

  Both were code that had been relayed to her that first day.

  Family meeting, get everyone to the suite.

  Five minutes wasn’t a real time, it was another code that meant as fast as possible.

  “Where’s Brenden?” She craned her head to keep looking at Nolan as they stepped onto the elevator.

  “I don’t know.” Nolan’s tone was clipped. Short.

  Did that mean both Douglas and Brenden weren’t answering? What did that mean?

  Too many people crowded around them up to their floor to speak. Nolan kept his head tilted, as though he were listening to an ongoing conversation, but he didn’t speak. They got off on their floor and were met by both Grant and Theodore, neither of whom looked happy.

  “What’s going on?” she asked the other men.

  “Get inside the suite, ma’am,” Grant ordered.

  “That God damn brat,” Theodore muttered.

  “Theo, where’s Doug?” Yvonne fell into step with her older brother.

  “Sounds like he slipped his leash.”

  The suite door opened and Melody was there, no smile today. The moment the door clicked shut everyone started talking.

  “Vaughn and Riley are going to the last transmission spot,” Melody said.

  “Do we have Zain on the line? What about building security?” Grant strode to the desk where a laptop was set up with two other tablets serving as additional screens.

  “What the hell?” Theodore snapped and glared at Melody. “I thought your team was here to prevent this from happening?”

  “Theo, you know this is likely Doug’s fault.” Yvonne set her purse on a chair and willed her knees to steady.

  Melody straightened, not the least bit flustered at having Theodore towering over her. “Theodore, Yvonne, I know this is alarming to both of you, but this is what my team handles.”

  “What was he doing?” Theodore demanded.

  “It’s morning.” Yvonne glanced at him. “He was demoing the drone.”

  “Drone?” Melody focused on her.

  “Yes, it’s Doug’s pet project. He’s working on developing a surveillance drone with firing capability.”

  “We’ve got video,” Grant announced.

  Yvonne was drawn toward the screens along with the others.

  An image of Douglas with the man, Brenden, carrying the drone crate sat frozen on the screen.

  “Zain, you see this?” Grant asked.

  “I see it,” a disembodied voice said from the speakers.

  The video played.

  The two men stood at what appeared to be some kind of service entrance. Douglas turned toward Brenden, laughing at something. They set the crate down, then spoke, going back and forth. Brenden pulled out his phone and showed it to Douglas who took it then set it on a stack of boxes. He gestured at Brenden again who shook his head. Douglas wanted something, but the other man wasn’t playing along. Finally Brenden pulled the comm unit from his ear and handed it to Douglas.

  “Fuck,” Nolan muttered.

  Douglas shoved Brenden back. The heavier man tripped over something, which was all the lead Douglas needed to shove the door shut and lock it.

  “Christ, kid. What the fuck?” Grant spat.

  They watched as Douglas removed his phone and the tracking pin then placed all of the items into a cabinet drawer.

  Where the hell was Douglas going with the drone? And did he really think this was a good idea?

  Grant straightened and turned to face them. “Until we recover your younger brother, Mr. Krieger, I think it’s best if you and your sister remain here. Douglas couldn’t have gotten very far.”

  A warm hand closed over Yvonne’s. She glanced at the point of contact only to realize she’d gripped Nolan’s arm at some point.

  “We’ll find him,” he said for her ears alone.

  Yvonne jerked her head in a nod and let go of him.

  God, what was Douglas thinking? He’d just locked up his bodyguard to go who knew where.

  “Find him quick. I’ve got a meeting in an hour and a half I can’t miss.” Theodore stalked across the suite and picked up the phone. “I’m ordering room service. Vee?”

  Her stomach growled, but she knew better. The only thing she was keeping down was broth, crackers and bread. Thanks to Melody, Yvonne had enough to get her through the weekend stashed in her room. Along with something else that had been eating up her attention all morning.

  “No, thank you.” She shook her head and turned to face her brother. “I’m going to get some work done in peace before Doug comes back.”

  When he rejoined them, there’d be hell to pay.

  Yvonne didn’t quite flee the room, but she left with haste, her shadow following her.

  She reached for her door, desperate to shut them all out for a few blessed moments.

  “Yvonne?”

  So close.

  She turned to face him.

  “We’ll find him.” Nolan stood there, filling the hallway by just being. He was such a big man. “You feeling better today?”

  “About the same, thank you.”

  “If you need anything...?”

  She nodded and retreated into her bedroom, shutting it all out.

  They’d figure out what to do about Douglas later. His antics were never ending, and she wasn’t the least bit surprised at what he’d done. Embarrassed, yes, but not surprised.

  Yvonne deposited her purse on the bed, stepped out of her heels then entered the bathroom. She shut the door behind her for good measure before opening her toiletries to the plastic bag she’d stashed the pregnancy tests in.

  Just to be certain she’d used four, three of which were made by different brands. It was the only way she could properly trust the things without involving a doctor and blood tests. She was simply covering all her bases. Once she could rule out the absurdity of her being with child, she could move on to other potential sources of this stomach bug.

  She took a deep breath and turned the tests over, lining them up across her palm.

  A little blue cross lined one display.

  Another had one line.

  The third showed two lines.

  The fourth didn’t show
anything.

  Yvonne frowned at the results. Why weren’t these things standardized?

  She pulled her phone out of her pocket and had to pull up the results in English.

  Blue cross—pregnant.

  One line—not pregnant.

  Two lines—pregnant.

  Nothing—the test was either defective or hadn’t taken.

  Her knees wobbled, and she sat down on the edge of the tub.

  Two positive, one negative. Or two negative and one positive depending on how she wanted to look at the tests.

  They weren’t unanimous. It wasn’t conclusive. She couldn’t trust these results.

  Yvonne wrapped up the tests in a plastic bag and shoved them into her toiletry tote, her hands shaking.

  She could not be pregnant.

  SATURDAY. ITO FAMILY Home, Kyoto, Japan.

  Samuel Ito could do with a beer. Plain, unassuming—beer. But his half-brother Sota wouldn’t have such low-brow drinks here.

  Too bad.

  It would make what came next that much more painful for Sota.

  Samuel continued to stare out on the ornamental garden surrounding the paved patio area. It was one of the few places in this house he remembered from childhood. The latter years. His father had allowed his first wife, Sota’s mother, to remain here after the divorce. Which was probably why Sota assumed he had a right to it. Just like everything else.

  Samuel slid his hands into his pockets and pressed his forearm against the gun concealed under his jacket. He wanted things to be different, but history had proven time and time again that he wasn’t good enough for this family.

  Well, he was done playing by their rules.

  “You didn’t come just to admire the view.” Sota stopped next to Samuel, staring out over the garden, the high-rises of Kyoto in the distance.

  “You’re right. I didn’t.” He pivoted to study Sota.

  They both favored their father. The resemblance between them was that of brothers. And yet, that wasn’t what mattered.

  Fuck them.

  Fuck them all.

  “You closed the marina deal?” Samuel asked.

  Sota regarded him for several moments, not speaking.

  To the public, the Ito family ran a successful private security company that helped keep the peace and criminals off the streets. In reality, that was what Sota did. Except the true goal was paving the way for Samuel’s side of things. Once the competition was out of the way, Samuel could establish their other trades without having to vie for the same customers.

  It was a neat arrangement, one that their father had guided them into.

  But lately Sota had forgotten where the bulk of their money came from and it wasn’t his side of the business. No, Sota was seduced by the high society crowd. He wanted to fit in. Be honorable. Pretend like their family legacy wasn’t rooted in crime.

  “Did you? Or didn’t you?” Samuel asked when Sota’s silence drew on.

  “You know very well I did.”

  “Good. Then in six weeks I can expand into the commercial marina. It’ll be good to control the port in and out—”

  “No.” Sota shook his head.

  “No—what?” Samuel smiled because he knew it made his half-brother uncomfortable.

  “We cannot expand.”

  “We? Or do you mean me?”

  “You know what I mean. Your efforts need to remain focused. Too much expanding isn’t good for us. We should scale back—”

  “I wish father could see you.” Samuel sneered at his older brother.

  “Me?” Sota shook his head. “It’s you—”

  “It’s me he spent time with. He raised me, unlike you. You think you knew him? You barely met him. Don’t presume you know what our father was like or what he’d say if he saw me now. You’ve gotten a taste or what it’s like to be rich and respected. But do you know where the money and connections come from? Me. What I do. You’re just window dressing to make us look good.”

  “Our father taught me how to run this company. He told me what he wanted, and he never mentioned you being part of it. I offered to let you in—”

  “Is that right?” Samuel laughed again. “With your forty-nine percent of the company? You do realize that with my forty-nine percent and my mother’s two I have a controlling interest, don’t you? You can do simple math, can’t you?”

  Sota regarded Samuel for another few moments. They didn’t spend much time together because truth was neither liked the other. Sota resented Samuel for having their father. Samuel resented Sota for assuming that just because he was the oldest he mattered most.

  A buzzing, whirring noise rose above the general hum of the city. Samuel glanced at the garden and caught sight of a dark speck.

  “I have some leads for other possible business. I need the marina—”

  “Oh fuck off, Sota. There are no leads. You’re trying to appease me with the idea of a carrot you don’t have. You can’t bully me into following you and you can’t lead me there with false prospects either.”

  Sota’s voice was cold. Calculating. He wanted something. “Perhaps it is time we separated our two companies.”

  “How delusional are you? Has your brain shrunk? You can’t be that stupid.” Samuel took a step toward Sota. “We work because we work together. My guys know everything your guys need to eliminate the competition. You make us look good. I earn the money.”

  “Not all of it. The aboveboard profits are fifty-five percent of our income as of yesterday.” Sota tipped his nose up.

  As if that meant anything.

  Samuel shook his head. The idiot still didn’t fully understand things.

  “That forty-five percent you’re sneering at doesn’t include the cash we keep on hand or what’s invested. There’s easily twice as much capital in my side as what you see in those precious books of yours. But you don’t see it because you never wanted to understand.”

  “If you’re doing so well, you will be able to continue doing well, brother. I think separating our two sides is what’s best—”

  “No,” Samuel snapped.

  The buzzing was getting louder, but Samuel’s focus remained on his brother.

  Sota tipped his chin up. “You can’t stop it.”

  “Can’t I?” Samuel pulled his hands out of his pockets and drew the gun, pointing it at his brother. “The hell I can.”

  He pulled the trigger before Sota could say another word. And it felt dam good.

  Samuel had always been second class and unworthy to his brother when their father had always treated them as equals. Well, Samuel was done with that now.

  A loud pop, followed by others. Samuel hunched his shoulders and dove behind the nearest chair, his body acting on instinct as bullets pelted the paving stones. Blood pounded in his temples as he hunched, trying to avoid the firing drone.

  Sota lay a few yards away, arms spread out, legs bent at awkward angles, blood pooling from multiple wounds. But the kill shot, the one that had put him down, was Samuel’s.

  Was this the plan all along? Had Sota intended to kill Samuel?

  He wasn’t aware of any drones, it wasn’t something they’d invested in, but clearly he and his brother had kept secrets.

  “Boss—are you hurt?” one of Samuel’s bodyguards called out.

  “No. Take that thing down.” He hunched lower as a chunk of the chair was blown away.

  “It’s leaving,” the man yelled back.

  “What?”

  Drones had cameras.

  Whoever Sota had operating that now also had footage of him killing his brother. He couldn’t let the drone get away.

  “Follow it,” he roared.

  NOLAN SLID THE MODIFIED mob holster on then his jacket. Since they couldn’t carry guns in Japan, they had a range of back-up tools to serve the purpose of protecting themselves and their clients.

  “What can you tell us about the drone?” Melody’s focus was on Theodore, who’d shed his coat and was pacing.
<
br />   “It’s a toy still. It flies around, takes pictures and fires rubber bullets. It’s a concept Doug is dicking around with so it looks like he’s trying.” Theodore wheeled away from them and strode toward the windows.

  Melody glanced at Nolan.

  Rubber bullets were easy enough to swap out for real ones.

  Why had no one mentioned this?

  “Guys?” Vaughn turned from the computer, one hand mashing an earpiece to his ear. “There’s been a high profile homicide. Someone got shot at their home.”

  “Do they have the shooter in custody?” Nolan asked.

  “Not that I can tell, but I’m listening to them through translating software. It’s not perfect.”

  “Go,” Melody said. “Take the gear, meet the others on their way up, check it out. I’ll keep an eye on this.”

  Vaughn glanced at Nolan. “But—”

  “I agree. We’ve got to get ahead of this if Douglas is involved. We need to get to that scene now.” Nolan bent and picked up the bag containing the rest of their gear.

  Vaughn didn’t utter another protest.

  Their headsets beeped and Melody spoke to the whole team, “Grant, redirect to the garage. Sending coordinates to you for possible location of our asset.”

  The headsets beeped again and Grant replied, “Copy that.”

  In the team hierarchy, Grant and Melody were equals. This was decision making time and Nolan was behind this one.

  Douglas was an overgrown kid with a lot of money and no grasp on reality. Nolan doubted Douglas knew what he’d gotten himself into. A lot like Nolan’s younger brother. Christ, the similarities were astounding.

  “This went to hell, didn’t it?” Vaughn muttered to him as they reached the elevators.

  “It was going too well to last.” The way Nolan saw it, people didn’t hire them for peace of mind. They were hired for a reason.

  Neither spoke on the ride down to the garage level.

  The two black SUVs they’d rented idled, Riley behind the wheel and Grant riding shotgun of the first. Nolan tossed the bag into the first vehicle then jogged to the second. Their destination was already programmed into the GPS, courtesy of the uplink with their home office. In a matter of minutes they were blazing the fastest route to the scene of the homicide.

  “Got a bit of news on the homicide.” Zain’s voice spoke through the comm units like the voice of a god. “Happened at the home of a guy named Sota Ito, who you might know as the guy running Ito Security.”