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It went to voicemail after the fifth ring, and he disconnected before pounding a fist on the steering wheel. “Sonofabitch.”
His next call was to Quinn, requesting him to use his police contacts to reach the two officers who were familiar with the recent events between him, Gina, and Jack.
“Are you still in the area?” Dean asked.
“No. You want me to head back?”
“Please. I haven’t had a call from Gina in over a half-hour, and I’m not waiting for the police if she’s in danger.” And if Jack had hurt her, he was going to need someone to keep him from killing the sonofabitch.
“Try Liz.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s there, too. Didn’t Mike tell you?”
That was the more Dean had hung up on. “He tried.” His phone buzzed for an incoming text and he grabbed up his phone to read Mike’s message as he drove, his gaze darting back and forth between the road and the screen.
Liz is at Brady’s, too. I’ll meet you there.
“I’m about five minutes out. I’ll meet you there.”
He disconnected with Quinn as he wondered, was Mike planning to protect his sister, or himself? At this point, he didn’t much care, so long as Gina was okay.
Four minutes later, he exited the highway and cruised through the neighborhood a good fifteen miles over the speed limit. He saw Quinn’s Blazer half a block away from Brady’s house and swerved to park behind him.
The PI was in his mid-thirties. His military background remained evident by the dark hair in a high and tight, as well as the T-shirt, tan camo pants, and sand-colored boots he wore. The guy looked like he was ready for a mission and Dean was grateful for his backup.
Quinn met him as he got out of the car. “I did a little recon. The three of them are inside—”
“Is Gina okay?” he demanded.
The man nodded. “She appears unharmed.”
His resolve strengthened. “She better stay that way.”
“She was working on a laptop while the other two were off to the side talking.”
“Then Liz is the leak.”
“Appears so. Two other things. Brady has a gun, and there’s an unlocked window in one of bedrooms.”
Mention of a gun wiped out every shred of relief in his body. Jaw and fists clenched, Dean started toward the house, but Quinn’s caught his arm.
“The police are on the way.”
“Good.” He met the guy’s intense green eyes, his resolve equally firm. “But you didn’t tell me about the window so we could wait for the cops.”
His PI gave him a grin. “No, sir. However…”
The sound of another vehicle had them both turning to see Mike’s car pull up to the curb behind his Mustang. His VP hurried over, concern etched in his features. Dean studied him for any sign of deception.
“Do we know what the hell is going on?” his friend asked.
He gave him the abbreviated version. “Jack has a gun, he and Liz are holding Gina, and we’re going in.”
Mike gaped at him, took in Quinn’s severe mask, then turned back to Dean. “You’re serious?”
“As serious as the gun,” he shot back.
