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She’d never know Tai’s tiny security force was watching her.
And he’d be able to sleep at night.
He nodded. “Do it.”
Tai flipped open the first case. Five minutes later, six mini-drones were lined up on the workbench, tiny lights flashing.
“Ready to roll,” Tai announced. “I’ve got three more on standby and a feed that can go straight to our phones.”
Bridger nodded, acknowledging the risk of getting caught but also recognizing the importance of uncovering the truth. “You know how she’ll feel if she finds out,” he warned his friend.
“Boy, howdy,” Tai agreed. “Copy that. Operation Stealth Surveillance is a go.”
Bridger followed his friend out to the workroom in the old barn, watching as Tai set up his equipment, his movements precise and efficient despite his large hands.
The small drones flew out of the open doors, swift and silent, like a flock of tiny bats. Less than ten minutes later, the video feed showed their cameras trained on Jane’s store from a handful of different angles. Except for her assistant Wes’s truck, the parking lot was empty. Guilt squeezed his throat. Exactly how mad would she be at this invasion of her privacy?
His heart leapt as he watched the live feed on his phone, his eyes glued to the screen. He and his team would protect her, whether she wanted their help or not.
Still, he couldn’t help wondering at what cost?
5
The closer Jane’struck got to the abandoned fishery, the harder her heart pounded. The overgrown building came into view. Between the savage mountain weather and the opportunistic vines covering the sides, the beautiful brick building had the edges sanded off its glamour.
She parked and scanned the area. No sign of Pete yet.
Typical.
She cut the engine but kept her foot near the pedal, ready to bolt if needed and reached for the bag, her palms slick with sweat.
A tap on the window made her jump. Pete leered through the glass, his eyes cold. She steeled herself to face him. Time to get her boy back.
She suppressed the urge to body check him with the truck door and slid out, clutching the bag tight against her chest.
He had his hands in his pockets, surveying her with a smug look. Whatever had spooked him so badly this morning, he’d recovered his nerve. As always.
“Took you long enough,” he said.
Jane bit back a scathing retort. She had to play this carefully. “I’ve got the money. Where’s Kellen?”
“Straight to business then. Always straight to business.”
He strolled closer, backing her against the car door. Jane stiffened, resisting the urge to shove him away. His hand came up to caress her cheek and she turned her face sharply.
“Don’t touch me. Just tell me where Kellen is.”
His features hardened at her rejection. He held out his hand. “First, my cash.”
Jane hesitated, thinking fast. An idea struck her.
“How do I know you even have him?” she challenged. “I want proof.”
Pete’s eyes narrowed dangerously. For a moment she thought he might hit her. But he reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. The bag still tight in hand, she pulled out the paper inside and scanned the words. A notarized child custody form signed by Pete, giving her full legal custody of her stepson.
She bit her lip, fighting back tears. He could always try to take her to court and fight it, but at least she’d be starting from a position of strength this time.
Unable to look away from the promising words, she handed over the bag.
