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RIDGE
Ihadn’t been at the Eaton Square apartment fifteen minutes before I received a call from Zin and Brix. I didn’t realize it was from both of them until I picked up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Cooley got a judge to okay a search warrant for the Los Cab wine caves,” said Zin.
“I told him he was overreacting,” said Brix. “We have nothing to hide and nothing for them to find. The wine rooms are no different than those in many of the caves in the area, including Butler Ranch.”
“What are you worried about, Zin?” I asked. “Obviously something.”
“You know about Seraphina Reeve’s browser history. You also know Cooley is spreading rumors about indictments being handed down.”
“Doesn’t it have to start with arrests or depositions or something?”
“Subpoenas,” he answered.
“Have one or both of you received one?”
“No,” Brix answered first. “And he hasn’t, either.”
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
“Press has kept me updated on the search and rescue. He said two planes are returning to the States this afternoon.”
“That’s right.”
“Get back as soon as you can, Ridge.”
I ended my call with them and rang Doc, checking on the feasibility of their request.
“We’re getting ready to transport a few of these folks to London. What’s your twenty?”
“I’ve been at the apartment about a half hour.”
“I hate to ask this, but we could use more vehicles down here.”
“On my way.”
With the exceptionof Luisa and five others, the victims were Mexican nationals. When I arrived at Felixstowe, Doc told me they’d decided not to fly both planes to the States. One would return to the San Luis Obispo airfield; the other would take as many as the plane could hold comfortably to Tryst’s ranch.
Doc, Merrigan, Razor, and I were scheduled to be on the aircraft going to Alamos. Gunner, Ares, and the rest of the Shadow Ops guys were remaining in England. Snapper and Kick were asked to stay on as well and, according to Doc, help with the investigation. Dalton was staying too but would travel with the rest of the victims as soon as their health was stable enough for the flight.
“You won’t be able to get into a room with Snapper and Kick when this is over,” said Dalton. “Their heads will be too big.”
I’d sent a message to Press before leaving Felixstowe for the second time that day, asking about Seraphina and her sister. He’d responded by saying they were both sleeping. After informing him it didn’t look as though I’d be returning to the apartment, I asked him to pick up the bottle of wine I’d arranged to have delivered to the hotel and make sure Seraphina and her sister shared it.
Between when I sent that message and the time I got on the plane, I hadn’t had a moment to do more than breathe. Once we were in the air, I slept as soon as I was in my seat. I hadn’t woken up once the entire flight, until Dalton nudged me, saying we were about to land.
Tryst,two of Brix’s other brothers—Cru and Trevino—along with the people who worked on the ranch, had been busy making arrangements to bring the families of the victims to Alamos. When we landed, it was like a huge welcome-home party—complete with a tent, tables, chairs, and more than enough food and drinks for everyone.
“How are things at Los Cab?” I asked Cru, sitting beside him and Dalton after I’d gotten a plate of food.
“The search was carried out yesterday. Other than a couple of bottles of wine, which they tried to make off with, they didn’t find anything.”
“There was nothing there to find.”
“Zin is freaking out, saying the computers are next.”
