“He’s not random,” Sage said quietly. “He’s picking people he knows. Or people who know him.”
Law didn’t break eye contact.
“Rook.” It wasn’t a question.
“Maybe.”
“Why is he cleaning house?”
A slight shift in Sage’s shoulders.
“I think he’s working through something,” Sage said. “And he’s not done.”
That landed between them, heavier than anything else that had been said.
Law nodded once. Maybe the meeting with the suit guy had no bearing on this at all.
“Then we don’t give him time to end more lives,” he said quietly.
Sage’s gaze flicked to his mouth for half a second—there and gone.
“Yeah,” he breathed softly.
Law swallowed over a suddenly dry throat.
The dryness stuck, not going anywhere.
“Check this out,” Boston said suddenly, walking over with several photos in his hands.
They showed Rook with the deceased, alongside a woman with two kids.
“Who is she?” Sage took one of the photos from Boston and studied the pretty blonde woman standing between Rook and Cain.
“The back of this one says Monica, Summerlin, Nevada.”
Memphis straightened from attending to Winter. “We need that store locked down. Cameras, owner, everything. And you need a fucking bandage.”
“Yes, Dad,” Winter snarked.
“You’re older than I am,” Memphis muttered.
“Am I?” Winter’s lips twitched.
Memphis squinted, eyeing him. “Dunno.”
Boston laughed.
“I’ll go see the store owner,” Rip said, already moving.
“I’m going with you,” Boston added, shoving the photos at Sage before falling in beside Rip.
Rip hesitated.
Boston glared. “I’m going.”
The big man gave a pained sigh but continued out the door.
Black peeled off behind them without a word, and Micah hurried after the small group.
