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“I’ll see you later,” I promised.
When I got in the car, I was surprised to find only Nate waiting.
“We couldn’t find Joaquin,” he said with a grimace.
“Of course not,” I grumbled. “Has he even been home tonight?”
Geneva shifted into drive and shook her head. “Haven’t seen him all day.”
Foreboding slithered through me, but I refused to give it purchase. I’d been paranoid since the warehouse, and it only got worse as days progressed. I wasn’t made for Cold War tactics, but steel and blood and chaos.
Mental games weren’t my fortitude unless I was the one orchestrating them.
Settling in, I gave Nate the rundown of my expectations. “When we get there, I need you to listen to everything that’s said but don’t react. O’Bannon is likely going to make an issue with me because that’s what he does. Don’t engage. Stay quiet and photograph the scene.”
“Mouth shut, eyes and ears open, guard your back. Got it.” Nate’s lips tipped when I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “I was expecting this, Mari. Cameron briefed me before he left. Speaking of, I didn’t know he was the Marcosa bomb dog.”
The term made me roll my eyes. “He’s not a bomb dog. He’s just very good at figuring out where they are.”
“So, he’s a bomb dog.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” I laughed.
While we talked, I pulled out my phone, sending a text to the security team about Joaquin in hopes one of them knew where he was, but no dice. He hadn’t been seen all day, and he’d left his Marcosa cell phone at the house, probably since that was the device we tracked.
More and more, I wondered if I had a rat in my house and what I’d have to do to exterminate it.
The O’Bannon estate was located in an area designed with new money in mind. There was no history, no depth. Everything was sterile walls and boring ceilings. Just standing on the street felt like living in an animal’s cage.
I hated it.
When we neared the gate, a single guard waved us through, and none were on the fence line. What the hell?
Every other time I’d visited, they’d walked the walled fence around his compound, rifles on display. It was overkill, but that was how O’Bannon worked. All brute force. All intimidation.
Then we drove up the driveway and into pandemonium.
Guards covered every square inch of the drive, most of them in a thick knot around the front door, where I assumed O’Bannon was waiting for me.
“I guess that explains where everyone is,” I murmured.
Nate grunted, his bodyguard mask firmly in place. “I don’t want you too far from me.”
Considering we only had a few men on-site, I agreed. O’Bannon often acted like a cornered cat, and I didn’t want him swiping at me because he thought I’d brought an army into his territory.
“I’ll head back down to the gate,” Geneva said as we stopped, knowing we needed the space.
“Thanks, G.”
Stepping out of the car, Nate walked carefully before opening my door and blocking everyone from sight as I got out. It was his job, but the lack of breathing room spoke more of nerves than duty.
“You can’t guard me from everything,” I said softly.
“Watch me.”
It was so like something Greyson or Dominic would do that I almost laughed. The only thing stopping me was a furious O’Bannon and the very dead Ace on his doorstep.
“Apologies for being out of touch earlier. What happened?” I peered at the body. The man looked like he’d only been dead for a day or so, but something about him looked…off.
