29
REVENGE FULL THROTTLE
Carrera
Carrera’s phone rang.
“Malcolm, what do you have?” Carrera asked.
“Check your email.”
Carrera clicked on the link. The video started playing. Greg left the detention center, strolled into the parking lot, and over to a car. Once inside, he drove away.
“Got it,” Carrera said.
He hung up, rewound the video, pausing on the vehicle. After enlarging it, he homed in on the license plate. He couldn’t tell if the second number was a three or an eight, so he entered both into the system.
While waiting for the results, he went in search of G-ma. He found her sitting with Jazz on the porch.
What the hell…
“Hey, sis, what are you doing here?” he asked his sister.
“Talking to G-ma, and hello to you too,” Jazz replied.
“Slash got a text from you that Russell’s house was finished and you invited her over for a glass of wine,” Carrera said.
“I never texted her,” Jazz said.
Oh, Jesus.
“What’s the address of Russell’s new house?”
“I… um?—”
Adrenaline pulsed through him.
“What’s going on?” G-ma asked.
“Faster, Jazz,” Carrera said.
Jazz pulled up her phone, scrolled, then read off Russell’s address. As Carrera strode back inside, he called Slash.
“Hel—” Slash’s voice cut out, like she had a weak signal.
“Get out!” he screamed.
“I… Russ… trap—” Slash said.
Carrera put the call on speaker, set his phone on his desk. “Babe, can you hear me?”
Silence.
On went his body armor. He shouldered into his harness, grabbed both Glocks.
The computer binged with the results of the search. Even though he knew who owned that vehicle, he glanced down at the screen.
Dread had him snatching his phone and running toward the garage.
