At.
All.
Instinctually, both men pulled their guns and got ready to access the apartment. In the back of Greyson’s head, he wasthinking about how he’d found her, so her ex, Hugo, might have been able to do so too.
Then again, maybe Gabe let that slip as punishment to pay Daphne back for fucking it up.
At this point, who knew?
He’d be lying if he said he hoped that wasn’t the case. Oh, and that he hated himself for feeling bad for her.
“FBI,” Greyson said, using the toe of his boot to push the door open.
And they headed in.
Once inside, they were met with a startling sight, but not the one Greyson had expected.
There was no bloodshed.
The place was empty.
As in, there was not a piece of furniture, not a crumb of food, and certainly not a lying, conniving skank to be found. Daphne didn’t get knocked off by a mob man.
She bailed like the coward she was.
Well, shit.
Gabe wasNOTgoing to be happy.
“It looks like she bailed,” Antonio stated. “Someone is in the wind. I pity the interim director that has to tell him,” he said, meaning Greyson.
Yep.
Him too.
Only, the facts were the facts.
Sasha Harper, AKA the wife of Hugo Carmichael, the mob boss, was in the wind. She’d tucked tail, packed up her shit in record time, and escaped.
She was likely now out in the world, doing who knew what?
Oh, and Gabe was going to be pissed.
Big-time.
Chapter Thirteen
Thirty Minutes Earlier
Damascus
Main Street
Leaving The Café
Someone had to hustle, and that‘someone’was Gene. The idea of leaving Ethan alone didn’t sit well with him now that the media dogs had been called out on them. In fact, the idea that his partner was alone made him all kinds of twitchy.
So, time was of the essence.
