“Totally fine.”
“One more thing. I have reason to believe the senator also murdered my grandfather.”
“Am I in danger?”
“Hold on a sec.” Carly hit the mute button. “Warren, where’s Internado?”
“In jail.”
“Not released on bond?”
“Kidnapping and attempted murder don’t get you a free pass to roam around the city.”
Carly unmuted the call. “Erin, Internado is being held without bond, but if you fear for your safety, you should take precautionary measures. I’m sure the police will be in touch.” She hung up. “Okay, Warren, I’m ready to give my statement.”
“The video speaks for itself, but I’ll be here when you talk to them,” Warren said.
“I’m heading out,” Sinclair said. “Ash, I’ll check in with you later.”
“Thanks for everything,” he replied.
“Kick-ass Carly is loaded for bear,” Sinclair said. “Of the two of you, who’s the better shot?”
“I am,” Carly said at the same time Ashton said, “Carly is.”
“Loaded for bear and packing heat.” Sinclair squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Relax. She’s gonna be just fine.”
Maverick was concerned Carly was pushing herself too hard. A police detective stopped by and she recounted everything, beginning with the cold case and ending with the attempt on her life. As he was leaving, an FBI agent showed up, so she had to repeat her story all over again.
An hour later, FBI Agent Mark Rodriguez closed his tablet. “Having the video is huge. Disturbing as hell, though. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.”
She slipped her hand into Maverick’s. “I’m lucky to be here.”
“It’s been a rough weekend for you guys.” He stood. “Get some rest. I’ll be in touch.”
As soon as Rodriguez left, Carly thanked Warren before Maverick walked his dad down the pier. When he returned, Carly had conked out on the sofa, her holstered weapon on the table. He sat beside her and she crawled into his lap.
“I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He rested his head on the back cushion. The adrenaline rush had worn off and he was beat. He was drifting to sleep when a woman’s shrieking voice jolted him awake. Carly jumped off the couch, her eyes wild with fear. She grabbed her Glock.
“Where the hell is she?” the woman screamed.
Maverick went outside. Cassie Stone glared at him from the pier. “Where the fuck is my sister?”
Carly sidled up beside him. “What do you want?”
Carly’s hoarse voice, black and blue neck, and Glock in her hand should have been a clear sign something was severely wrong. Rather than showing any concern for her sister, Cassie hitched her hands on her hips.
“Mom said the lock on the back door of my office was busted and that you”—she launched her finger toward Maverick —“did it. I demand an explanation.”
Carly’s mom’s boyfriend, Ross, rolled up beside Cassie wearing a snug suit, his clingy shirt unbuttoned to his navel. What the hell? I thought he was with the mother.
Ross slid his sunglasses down his nose and eyed the yacht. “I’ll bet she’s a sweet ride.” He eyed Maverick. “This baby yours?”
“What do you want, Cassie?” Maverick asked.
Rolling her eyes, she harrumphed. “You broke into my office. Explain yourself.”
Maverick threw a protective arm around Carly. “A man in his sixties visited you last week, interested in Carly.”
