The next several minutes are slow, tedious, and suspenseful, but mercifully, commendable to my team’s impeccable security standards. The SUVs are going in circles, and despite their one veer past the security gate at the front of my home, their brake lights didn’t illuminate for even a second. They’re as clueless as to where I reside as the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
The knowledge adds a touch of smugness to my tone when I say, “Switch your focus to Teremok. I want to know what I’m walking into before it occurs.” I only just lectured Nick about placing Jenni’s well-being above his own, yet here I am, twenty minutes away from walking headfirst into a perilous situation without an adequate plan in place.
“I intercepted correspondence Albert’s men forwarded to Regan just now.” The woosh of an email being sent sounds down the line before Hunter discloses, “Teremok is a privately run establishment on the border of Hopeton.”
“Their choice of location isn’t surprising considering they are here to ruffle more than my feathers.” I brace my elbow on my chair’s armrest before swiveling away to face the arched window in my office. “Are the owners known by Ravenshoe PD?” That’s my way of asking if they are criminals.
“No,” Hunter answers. “Which is a shock considering they are umbrellaed under a subsidiary associated with the Bobrovs.”
“Bobrovs?” I double-check, certain I heard him wrong.
I didn’t. “Yes. They have several mostly dormant assets in the area from over a decade ago. A handful, such as Teremok, are still running because of determined managers.”
“Or stubborn ones.”
Hunter laughs, assuming I am joking. I’m not. The Bobrovs were well known around these parts when I started investing in Ravenshoe. If they hadn’t left when they did, Ravenshoe would be several hundred miles closer to New York.
“Can you get ears into the premise?”
Unease jitters in Hunter’s deep tone when he replies, “I can get ears in anywhere. You just need to tell me if that’s what you want. You don’t need a criminal mastermind to tell you that recording crime isn’t a smart move.”
“When did eating out become illegal?” I bark out, my voice not close to holding the hint of laughter his is laced with.
“It isn’t,” he immediately replies. “But depending on the eyes of the agent watching it, it could be misread.” He swallows like he said too much before he adds, “I’ll have everything ready before you arrive.”
“Good.”
Before I can pull my phone from my ear, Hunter breathes out a final warning, “But you need to be careful. Just because they say the premises is secure doesn’t mean it is.”
Although his caution isn’t required, it is appreciated. “Nothing but words will be exchanged today,” I promise while sliding my index finger over my phone’s screen so I can drink in a picture of Isabelle sleeping on the lock screen, the assurance in my tone doubling when I notice I have a voicemail from her. It is probably just an extension of her playful messages this morning, but they loosen the knot in my stomach. “Because more than my empire is at stake this time around.”
After a quick email from Regan and a message to Hugo to keep his eyes on Isabelle, I snatch my jacket off the coat rack then hightail it outside. Thankfully, the groove between my brows keeps Tina’s mouth firmly shut.
I slip into the driver’s seat of my car, then whip out of the back lot with so much speed, burning rubber lingers in the air along with the dust of my fishtail.
My teeth grit when I notice my race through the traffic clogging the street isn’t done without a shadow. I have a tail—an eager one.
A smirk slips onto my face when I spot the light on the corner of Tate and 43rdflicking to amber. After a quick gear change, I take the corner without braking. The undercarriage of my sports car scrapes the asphalt when I race through the intersection before the light switches to red. The blue surveillance van isn’t quite so lucky.
If it weren’t for a blind man crossing the road as per the loud beep sounding over the marked crosswalk, I doubt they would have yielded. They’re as desperate to follow me as I am wanting to elude them. I’m highly skeptical my shady afternoon would reach the office of a stuffy accounting firm, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. The hoops I’m jumping through to save Callie from a fate Isabelle would have experienced if it weren’t for her uncle are already snug. I don’t need them set alight before attempting to crawl through them unscathed.
“Your lead foot is worse than Hugo’s,” Hunter grumbles out of the speakers of my sports car. When I grunt, he mutters, “And you’re just as moody about it when I point it out.”
The dashboard illuminates before a cryptic stream of text pops up in place of the song title a local radio station is playing. “This is the security report from Albert’s team. It’s a crock of shit. None of the staff were spoken to, and the restaurant has several points of entry they’re not guarding.”
“They won’t storm me,” I push out with a chuckle. “They want my money. They won’t get that if they kill me.”
“I’m not worried about them storming you. He’s who I’m worried about.”
When the image changes to an old sedan, I curse under my breath. I’ve noticed it tailing me a handful of times the past couple of weeks. At first, I thought it was a federal agent putting in some overtime, then I realized even the shit kickers in the Bureau get around in better cars than the one parked across the street from Teremok.
My foot slips off the gas pedal half an inch when a thought pops into my head. “Do you think he’s working with the Popovs? He did show up around the same time as our first unwanted guest.”
I couldn’t see the face of the person in the driver’s seat of the car Jimmy spotted behind me the first night I took Isabelle home, but I’m confident it was a man. His frame was too large and wide to be a woman, and it matches the size of the man Hunter saw in the shadows of a private airstrip the night we leftMummo Koti.
“Perhaps.” Hunter’s tone is nowhere near as confident as his demeanor. “But I’d rather he fuck off.”
Since I can’t disagree with him, I keep my mouth shut. It’s for the best. My mind works better with silence.
