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The Alphas, Aspen, and Camden were talking in the motorhome’s small living area. The bearcat kept pacing, spitting out all sorts of plans she had for whoever had dared go after Bailey. Just as furious on the mamba’s behalf, Havana sat unnaturally still as she wished all manner of deaths on the guilty party. Bailey herself, however, had little to say. Which was an indication that she was seething.
Deke’s anger had cooled during the drive, now overridden by the anticipation he felt at questioning the three loners. His Alphas were right in that it made little sense that said loners would take on so much more than they could chew. But edgy with the sheer helplessness he felt at being unable to protect Bailey from an attacker he couldn’t ID, Deke needed to do something. Scratching suspects off his list would be enough for now.
It wasn’t long before two cars pulled up outside. Deke slipped out of the motorhome, closing the door behind him. Isaiah and Joaquin urged Jackson’s brothers out of one vehicle. Farrell and Finley hopped out of the other car … without Ginny.
Frowning at the Head Enforcer, Deke asked, “Where’s Ginny?”
“No clue,” replied Farrell, his voice too low to carry to their other captives. “But I did a walk-through of her apartment. Some of her things are missing—clothes, phone, ID, keys. I got the impression that she’s been gone at least a week.”
“A week?” Deke echoed. What the fuck?
“Either she’s visiting someone,” began Finley, “or she’s in hiding.”
Deke inwardly cursed and then turned to the male loners. Both were wide eyed, their dark hair tussled, clearly spooked. Good. They should be afraid. Because if one or both of them were behind what happened to Bailey, they’d die for it. And they wouldn’t die easily or quickly.
He gave them a smile that wasn’t in the least bit reassuring as he opened the door that led into the motorhome’s living area. “In you go.”
Somewhat reluctant, they slowly entered.
Farrell turned to the three enforcers who’d aided him in bringing the suspects to the motorhome. “Stay out here and keep a lookout for anyone who might stumble across us. Alert us if there’s anything of note.” With that, he then followed Deke into the motorhome.
As both took up a position either side of the closed door, Deke mouthed to Tate, “Ginny’s in the wind.”
Sprawled on the bench-sofa with his mate, Tate pressed his lips into a flat line. He then focused on the brothers and gestured at the identical bench-sofa opposite his. “Have a seat.”
Neither loner looked as if they had any wish to accept the Alpha’s invitation, but they nonetheless sat—their backs stiff, their gazes darting around. They clocked Bailey, who was kneeling on the front passenger seat, peering over her headrest. She gave them a little wave, her smile sweet, her eyes empty.
“I know your names, but I’m wondering which is which,” Tate said to them.
“I’m Keaton,” one said before tipping his head toward the male beside him. “This is Jarrett. What’s all this about?”
Leaning against the wall, Camden cocked his head. “You have no idea why you’ve been brought here?” The casual question came out flat.
Jarrett shook his head. “No.”
One hand braced on the kitchenette counter, Aspen let out a doubtful snicker. “Not sure I believe that, but I guess we’ll soon see.”
Tate leaned forward, bracing his lower arms on his thighs, and clasped his hands. “We’re going to ask you some questions,” he told the brothers. “Answer honestly, you get to go home. Simple.”
Keaton swallowed. “Okay.”
“Did you manage to uncover who attacked your brother and left him to die?” Tate asked.
“No.” Keaton licked his lips. “We tried, but it was a dead-end. No pun intended.”
“Hmm.” Tate bit the inside of his cheek. “What does your gut tell you happened to him?”
“That it was likely a random attack.”
“You suspected Bailey at one point, correct?”
Keaton hesitated. “Ginny thought there was a good chance that she was to blame.”
“I’m not asking what Ginny suspected. I’m asking about you.”
“I thought it was possible. At first. I mean, she made his life difficult for months. But everyone I spoke to who knew her, including Jackson, didn’t believe it was something she’d do. They were all of the opinion that Ginny was capitalizing on what happened to have Bailey hurt.”
Deke cut in, “Where is Ginny now?”
Keaton blinked at him. “I don’t know. We haven’t been in contact recently.”
Deke narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”
It was Jarrett who answered, “She didn’t like that we accused her of pointing fingers at Bailey just to get some revenge.”
Aspen pushed away from the kitchenette’s counter. “When did you last hear from her?”
Pursing his lips in thought, Jarrett shrugged. “About ten or so days ago. Did … did Ginny do something?” he asked, sweeping his gaze over every face.
“Possibly,” said Bailey. “Or it could have been either—perhaps even both—of you.”
