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Remembering Carmen's mention of Mick's association with Gloria, Ben brought it up. “You’ve been around for a long time, right? Back when Gloria was running everything.”
Mick's chest puffed out with pride and did the sign of the cross. “May she rest in peace. That woman was a saint and a beast all at once. She could pray for your soul and snatch it right out of you. She built a network of people who wanted to make sure a loophole or power in the wrong hands didn’t mean innocent people would have to suffer or die. I miss the hell out of her.”
Paisley found her voice and stepped forward a bit. “How does one get into this work exactly? You must have been pretty young when you started.”
“The problem with this job: there is only one way in. Either you’ve been a victim or you’ve loved one. My father killed my mother when I was nine years old. I saw the whole thing and couldn’t stop him. I spent the next nine years fighting, stealing from and outwitting every system that tried to contain me. Gloria came around right after my eighteenth birthday and offered me a job. The kind of job where I wouldn’t have to be that nine-year-old in the closet watching my mom die through the key hole. I could do something. I could help people. That changed my life. I’ve been doing everything I can to stop people like my father. Now twenty years later I’m still at it.”
“That’s horrible,” Paisley said, her brows crashing together.
“Or it’s pretty damn awesome. Depends how you look at it. Now, what you are dealing with seems unusual. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Different authors of the letters. Different techniques in intimidation and stalking. The sense they can be anywhere you are, which means they have resources to get around as easily as you and the other jet-setting people in your network do. It’s a damn mystery.”
Ben cleared his throat. “So then, what do we do?”
Mick's response was simple yet chillingly bold. "Make a public appearance. Let the press know where you'll be. Tell your team even though one of them might be involved. Open the valve all the way up, let the scum pour out for everyone to see."
Ben's hesitation was palpable as he voiced his concerns about her safety. “That seems extreme. Are we really ready to just open it all up?”
“It will be dangerous as hell,” Mick agreed. “Odds are one of us won’t make it out, but for sure we’ll flush out whoever is behind this. They clearly can’t seem to help themselves.”
Ben glanced at Paisley, the reality hitting them both at once. Mick's words hung heavy in the air, his gruff demeanor adding to the weight of their situation.
"Look, you can go back to Cinderhill," Mick said, his voice slightly softer. "Or you can stay here, but it might go really bad. I can’t make that choice for you. I’m in for whatever.”
Paisley interjected, her voice hardened, "Can we make this public appearance without putting ourselves in immediate danger? There has to be a way, right?"
Mick scratched his stubbled chin, his gaze fixed on Paisley. "We don’t have a team. We don’t have security you can trust. It’s the three of us. That can be a good thing. Sometimes too many cooks in the kitchen gets wild. I say you call a small press conference to make a statement about Doug’s death. Leak that you’re going to break a big story about something you’ve been dealing with for months. Whoever is putting you through this will love the idea of using this platform to finally get you.”
“Sounds reckless,” Ben replied curtly.
Mick's lips curled into a sly grin. "We play a dangerous game, my friend. We give them a taste of what they want. We make it known where Paisley will be, make them think they have an opportunity. They'll come out of the shadows, and we'll be ready. It’ll seem impromptu, but in reality, we’ll stage the area. We know some of their previous tactics were poison. Arson. Tampering with equipment.”
"Tampering with equipment?” Ben asked, his head snapping around toward Paisley.
“They messed with some lighting on set that could have injured me. Also a vehicle I was riding in had the brake lines cut but the driver was able to use the emergency brake.”
Ben's mind raced with worry. “What the hell? How many more stories are there like this? These people are monsters. That should make you want to get the hell out of here.”
Mick waved him off as though this was no big deal. “It’s good that we know how they operate. All of those attacks have a level of distance between themselves and their attempt to harm or murder. They don’t want to be too close. They aren’t trained assassins with sniper rifles up in the trees. They don’t do this kind of thing on a regular basis. They’re uncomfortable with the whole idea and most of their attempts have failed.”
“All but one,” Paisley said somberly. “And I wish it would have been me that died because all of this would be over.”
“Crazy people stay crazy even after they get what they think they want. It won’t be over until they’re locked up for what they’ve done.”
“I still don’t know why they’re doing this.” Paisley replied, her voice high and agitated.
“That’s the big question,” Mick said with a sigh. “Motive can be allusive and to be honest, in my line of work, I don’t usually give a damn why someone wants to inflict harm. It’s not a mystery when I’m involved. We know how bad it is, how much of a tipping point they are at, and then we get people extracted before the worst can happen. This is entirely different. You don’t want to run, you want to fight.”
“Do you think I’m crazy to do this?” Paisley asked, narrowing her eyes to try to analyze his answer.
“Of course it’s nuts. But they’re nuts too and if it were me, I wouldn’t want to be locked away from my life, waiting for someone to come out of the shadows and kill me. It’s different when we’re talking about domestic abuse where the assailant is known and the victim can escape them safely with us. We can keep tabs on the perpetrator and work behind the scenes to hold them accountable. That is not this.” He waved around the room. “Now, let’s start making calls. Get the word out you’re staying at this hotel. Let’s pick a spot we can hold a press conference and keep you as secure as possible. Then we get in the minds of these people. They don’t want to be up close and personal, but they want you dead. How would they do that in the scenario we create?”
“Fun,” Ben replied flatly. “It’s like a game of Clue.”
Mick boomed out a laugh. “If it ends up being Professor Plum in the kitchen with the candlestick, you’ll be ahead of the game.”
CHAPTER19
PAISLEY
