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“Damn straight,” Ryan replied. “At top speed. We’ll brief Casey as we drive. I want to get back ASAP so I can have access to all my technological resources. Meanwhile, I’ll be in the back of the van, subtly hacking into Homeland Security.”
“To see if there’s more on Slava,” Marc stated.
“Yup. The DNA needs to go to a crime lab. But the partial name, the photos… Who knows what our government agencies have on him. So if not Homeland Security, there’s the NSA, the DMV…”
“I get it.”
Ryan grinned. “By the time I’m done, we’ll know everything about Slava
, including his jock size.” A quick glance at Emma. “Hey, brat, are you all set?”
Emma inhaled sharply and shook off the rest of her nostalgia. “Not until I change into normal clothes and wash this crap off my face. She grabbed her backpack and a towel and headed for the bathroom. “Give me five.”
Burlington, Vermont
Max sat in his study, his hands clenched tightly on the desk in front of him. His rage from yesterday had been eclipsed by reality and the difficult decisions he had to make. The attempt at kidnapping Shannon Barker had not only been unsuccessful, it had opened the door to major questions, complications, and the potential for dire consequences.
The episode itself would have been salvageable if the Barker girl had merely seen she was being followed and taken off. At worst, she would have taken her suspicions—and that’s all they would have been—to the police, who would have shooed her off like an annoying fly. After all, she’d just been interviewed by two Chicago cops. She’d clearly given them nothing and doubtlessly come across as a traumatized teenager. So resurfacing again, claiming she was the target of some dire act, would come across as an overactive imagination.
But that wasn’t what had happened. The fact that someone was after Shannon Barker had been validated and the kidnapping attempt foiled by some private security guy—a guy who was clearly safeguarding her and who carried a gun.
That raised the red flag question. Why did Shannon Barker have an armed bodyguard? She must have convinced someone her life was in danger. And that meant she knew something, provable or not. It also meant that, whatever she knew, she’d passed along to Julie Forman and her friend, Miles Parker. Did they also have a security detail watching them?
And who was orchestrating all this? It had to be professionals. Which made the threat to Max even more problematic.
This was a ticking time bomb. And when it exploded—well, Max couldn’t risk any of the burning embers raining down on him.
He picked up his cell phone and pressed the familiar number.
Slava answered in Russian, respectful, if still pissed off by yesterday’s reaming out. “Yes.”
“Time to do damage control,” Max told him. “And you’re in charge of it all—in person. Not just the cleanup. The arrangements. The execution. Hire only the best you know to assist you. No more assholes who make costly mistakes.”
That appealed to Slava and his ego, and the edge in his tone vanished.
“Alexei and Vitaliy—you want me to take care of them?” It was more of a suggestion than a question.
“Immediately,” Max replied. “The bodyguard can identify them. He’ll have taken pictures, run license plates, and questioned car rental places. They’re a major liability.”
“Don’t worry. I made sure nothing leads back to you,” Slava assured him. “But you’re right. I’ll fly out to Jersey and take care of them today. Their bodies—or what’s left of them—won’t ever be found.” A pause. “Do you want me to take care of the Barker girl, too?”
“No. We can’t risk it. But we need eyes on her, Julie Forman, and Miles Parker. They obviously know something. They have to be contained—but not killed. Keeping a low profile is paramount at this point. I have to figure out what they know and who’s in charge of protecting them.”
“And if they make a move to do something before you figure all that out?”
“Then there’ll be no choice but to kill them.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Tribeca, New York
Office of Forensic Instincts
Casey waited until everyone had gathered around the conference room table. No one got coffee. No one joked or talked. Tension crackled in the air since everyone had important information to share in the debriefing. Even Hero picked up on the strained atmosphere. His head was raised, as if he were ready to leap into action at a moment’s provocation.
Hard copies of Patrick’s report on Shannon’s attempted kidnapping were waiting for each of them at their seats. Conversely, Ryan’s notes were scribbled on pages that only he had, as they were filled with too much undecipherable, complex information for the average layperson to make sense of. But he was visibly chomping at the bit. So was Emma, who was proud of her role in uncovering a major facet of the case.
Claire was quiet, dark circles under her eyes, but she, too, had a lot to share.
