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‘I know. I just thought cracking a safe would be faster,’ she grumbled. ‘It is on TV.’

‘I wish he’d done it in five minutes,’ Jonas said, ‘but I’m actually a little relieved that he isn’t so good at it. I might actually have arrested him.’ He said it with almost a straight face, but his eyes twinkled at the last minute, defusing some of the tension. ‘Except that I wasn’t prepared to tangle with you, Scarlett.’

‘I called in one of the CPD safe experts,’ Isenberg said. ‘They were on a call across town, so it may be a little while, but—’

There was a knock on the door of the small conference room and Faith stuck her head in. ‘Excuse me, please. Marcus? There’s someone here to see you.’ She held the door open, and Marcus blinked in surprise at the tiny woman who stood there.

‘Delores?’

Scarlett rose to grip the woman’s hands. ‘Delores, is everything okay?’

‘I don’t know.’ Delores was pale and had been crying. ‘That’s why I’m here.’

‘Delores runs the dog shelter where I got Zat,’ Scarlett told her father as she led Delores into the room. ‘What brings you here?’

‘The hospital wouldn’t tell me anything. Where is Stone? Is he all right?’

Surprised, Marcus glanced at Scarlett from the corner of his eye and saw that she was equally perplexed at Delores’s sudden arrival and obvious tears. ‘He’s still in surgery,’ he said, ‘but the first news was good. He’ll make it, but there was a lot of damage.’

Delores sagged. ‘But he’ll be okay? Oh, thank God.’ She sank into the chair Scarlett pulled out and dropped her face into her hands. ‘I’ve been so worried. I finally got in my car and drove out here as soon as I saw the story on the news.’ Her china-blue eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m so sorry, Marcus.’

‘Thank you. Me too.’ Marcus proceeded carefully, remembering Stone’s reaction when he’d thought Delores might be in danger. There was something going on that they’d missed. ‘You only met Stone a few times.’

‘More than a few,’ she admitted. ‘He brings me things for the shelter at least once a week. Stacks heavy bags, helps me clean out cages. He made me promise not to say anything. I think he was worried everyone would think he was a mushy sap. But last night he showed up right at sunset. Told me that you two had been followed yesterday, that a killer could know my name. He stood guard in front of my house last night. All night.’

‘Stone?’ Marcus said, shocked. ‘My brother?’

‘My cousin?’ Faith asked from the doorway, equally dumbfounded. ‘Really?

Delores’s mouth curved. ‘Really. He’s very sweet. He never came in, just sat out on my porch working on his computer all night, even though the mosquitoes ate him up. He said he’d come back tonight, but he didn’t, and I got worried. He wasn’t answering his cell phone. Then I turned on the news.’

‘It got shot up,’ Scarlett said. ‘We didn’t know you were worried or we would have called you. Unfortunately Marcus and I are headed out. We’ll be back, but Faith’s staying.’

Faith put her arm around Delores’s shoulders. ‘Come and meet everyone.’

‘Oh no, that’s all right. I’m not here to intrude. I was just so worried.’

‘So is everyone here,’ Faith said. ‘And you’re not intruding.’ She gave Scarlett a look that was both hopeful and scared. ‘Be careful.’

‘Always.’ She turned to Marcus. ‘You ready?’

Jaw set, he nodded, even though his gut was an absolute mess. ‘As I’ll ever be.’

Isenberg stood up, her expression severe. ‘This is not a suicide mission, Mr O’Bannion. If your lives are in danger, you fall back.’

Marcus said nothing. He wasn’t about to give her a reason for canning the op, but he was not leaving Gayle in that cage.

Isenberg rolled her eyes. ‘For God’s sake.’ She stuck her head out the door, looking into the hallway. ‘Officer? I’ll take it now.’ An officer came into view holding a backpack, which Isenberg took, then shoved into Marcus’s hands.

It was heavier than he’d expected. He unzipped it with a frown, his chest growing tight as he realized what the lieutenant had done. ‘Thermal blanket, first aid kit, water, protein bars, and bolt cutters.’ He looked at Scarlett. ‘Collapsible, so they’re easier to carry.’

Scarlett gave her boss a grateful smile. ‘To free Gayle. Thank you, Lynda.’

‘Just don’t be stupid, Scarlett,’ she snapped, but there was no heat behind her words. Only concern. ‘One more thing. Agent Coppola is lead on this op. You report to her.’

Scarlett’s grateful smile faded. ‘Why?’

‘Because you are emotionally invested,’ Isenberg said. ‘I want you both back alive. If Coppola says fall back, you’d sure as hell better say “yes, ma’am”. Am I understood?’

Scarlett’s nod was curt. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ She leaned up on her toes and pecked her father’s cheek. ‘See ya.’

Jonas tilted her chin, locking gazes. ‘Your LT made the right call. You are invested.’

‘I know,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t have to like it.’ She rocked back on her heels. ‘Let’s move out.’

Cincinnati, Ohio

Wednesday 5 August, 10.28 P.M.

Ken drew a deep breath, keeping his cool despite the gun shoved in his back. His son’s gun. He’d been in far tenser situations, but Sean had taken him by surprise and had the upper hand. ‘I have to say,’ he said mildly, ‘that I always thought if either of you staged a coup, it would be your sister.’

‘Surprise, surprise,’ Sean said coldly, and shoved the barrel harder. ‘Start walking. Slowly. Any sudden moves and I’ll blow your fucking head off.’

Ken began walking, carefully evaluating his son’s stride, his balance, his hold on the weapon. Despite his bravado, Sean had never been in the field, had no experience in these matters. The hand that held the gun trembled, and Sean walked a little too close. Ken had no doubt that he could disarm him easily, but he wanted to know what he was up to first.

He also wanted a clear path away from his son should the disarming not go as planned. So he decided to wait until they were outside before he made his move.

‘Why?’ Ken asked, putting a tremor in his voice.

‘Just walk.’

‘If it’s the money, we can discuss this.’

Sean laughed. ‘It’s not the money. I’ve already taken it all back. Your offshore account has a zero balance.’

Ken stumbled a step, genuinely startled. No one knew about the account in the name of the alias he’d kept secret for years. ‘You’re lying.’

‘Fine,’ Sean said easily. ‘I’m lying. Mr William J. Bosley.’

Shit, Ken thought, still holding on to his calm. Then Sean rattled off the number of Ken’s bank account with a quiet chuckle and his gut turned to water. ‘How?’ he asked softly, waiting for Sean to make a wrong move or step.

‘The same way I found out you were tracking us through our phones. I’m the IT guy. I control all the software, all the devices. Even the ones you believe are private.’

Ken had trusted him completely. Obviously he’d been very wrong. ‘Why?’

‘Why?’ Sean sounded incredulous. ‘Really?’

‘I rarely ask questions to which I don’t want answers,’ Ken said sharply. ‘Don’t play games with me. I asked you why.’

‘Because my mother did not run off with her yoga instructor,’ Sean said, his voice harsh with venom. ‘Because she did not abandon me, even though that’s what you’ve told me for years. She didn’t leave me voluntarily. You killed her.’

Well, fuck. ‘How did you find out?’ Ken asked, keeping his voice mildly curious.

‘Reuben. He told me that you killed her and . . . disposed of her. That she was in that pit along with all of the others you’ve had killed over the years.’ Sean’s voice shook, but his hand clenched on the gun, steadying himself. ‘You put my mother through that damn woodchipper.’