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Author: Lisa Phillips

Category: Christian

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  No, he was out of his house for an entirely different reason.

  Mayor Collins, or Samuel to those who thought they were close to him, utilized a hitched stride to enter the library. Could he do anything over again, he’d have asked the people who’d sent him to this place to give him a name that wasn’t so common. So far in Sanctuary he’d met two others named “Sam.” The Navy SEAL didn’t live there anymore, having run off into the sunset with the dead president’s daughter. The gym owner, Sam Tura, was another story. The man had businesses on both sides of Main Street—a diner and the gym.

  The Mayor hadn’t had much luck getting close to him. Tura was, evidently, not the kind of man who could be coerced. Or bought. He was about as useful to Collins as a wife had been. Turned out the woman was much more helpful after she’d been murdered.

  He should have thought of that first.

  The librarian met him at the door and held it open for him. “Mayor Collins, it’s so nice to see you.”

  He could see from her face that wasn’t true, but he appreciated her saying it nonetheless. Samuel held out his hand and shook hers, his free hand on top so that it was a two-handed shake. “How are you, dear?”

  Gemma blinked. “Oh, fine. Thank you.”

  “I heard you might have received some bad news recently. I wanted to check in with you myself, to make sure everything was all right. No one is bothering you, are they?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that, I assure you.” Gemma shot him a pleasant smile. “Just some bad news, I’m afraid.”

  Samuel knew Hal had been her father. If she’d taken possession of his belongings after his death that meant she would likely find exactly what Samuel was looking for. But how could he get her to trust him?

  “And your mother?” Samuel asked. “How is she?”

  “She’s fine.” There was a fakeness to it that made Samuel wonder if she was even sure that was the right answer. “I’m going to see her later.”

  “I’m sure that will make her feel better. She has been out of sorts since the town blew up.”

  Samuel couldn’t believe those Mason brothers had actually allowed a bomb to detonate in his town. It was unthinkable, and yet the ranch was in ruins. The town was abuzz about rebuilding Bolton’s house. The lake was a nice addition, but why build a house for a man who may never return?

  Gemma sniffed. “She has been out of sorts, hasn’t she?”

  “Why not take off and go see her now?”

  “You know what? That’s a great idea.” Gemma strode to the desk and got her purse. “Will you lock the door after you’re done?”

  “Of course, dear.”

  The door whooshed shut behind her, and Samuel Collins stood alone in the library. The minute she was out of sight, he went to the check-out desk where the woman wrote all of those trash novels and started looking for anything related to her father.

  His sources were never wrong, and if this panned out the way he thought it might, then it was the answer he’d been looking for. Then, finally, Sanctuary would be nothing but a memory.

  **

  “I know you want to rush out there and find her, but hang on for a second.” Remy tried to grab his arm.

  Shadrach spun around. “I have to go get her back, Rem.”

  “The necklace. Remember?”

  He stopped at the open elevator door. “It’s a GPS. But she isn’t going to turn it on. Dante will find her the same way he found you.”

  “She doesn’t have to turn it on. Once I knew what the necklace was, I rigged it so that I can remotely turn it on and find whoever has it.”

  Shadrach stepped closer to Remy. “Did you know she was going to leave?”

  She tensed but held her ground. “I knew she would go back to Sanctuary eventually. I thought there might be a risk from Dante. That’s why I gave it to her. But I didn’t know she would leave like this, without saying anything.” Remy paused. “She didn’t say anything to you, did she?”

  “No.” Shadrach didn’t like this at all. “She didn’t let me know.”

  He glanced at the exit door at the far end of the hall. Where had she gone? Nadia couldn’t have thought it was a good idea to go off on her own, not when Dante was out there, and she had no way to get back to Sanctuary. What had she been think… “No.”

  “What is it?”

  Shadrach trotted back to the conference room where Will still sat, typing away. The man was so private Shadrach knew next to nothing about him. The way he just…worked…was so infuriating. Shadrach would atrophy if he sat for that long. Not to mention Dauntless didn’t even like the man.

  He turned back to Remy. “Activate the necklace. Now.”

  “It wouldn’t kill you to be nice about it.” She sat.

  “I’m sorry. But if she’s doing what I think she’s doing then we need to get to her now.”

  Remy typed. A map of the city opened on her screen. Shadrach tapped the table until the red dot appeared at the center of the screen. Just above… “Thornton National Bank. Why would she be…”

  “Dauntless, hier.”

  Will tossed him a set of keys he caught mid-air, and Shadrach ran for the elevator with the dog right behind him. He hit the elevator button, and Remy stopped to catch her breath. “Why is a bank a big deal?”

  “It’s where Manuel kept his money.”

  “Can she access it? Wouldn’t the police have seized his assets when Nadia Marie testified and he went to prison?”

  “Manuel was Nadia Marie’s money manager. The FBI seized what belonged to Manuel, but that wasn’t the whole of it. Four million dollars is sitting in a bank account with Nadia Marie’s name on the account. When he went to jail she left the money alone, knowing it would only be a trail from him or an associate to the bank, back to her location. She never touched it. It’s her money.”

  “She’s going to make a withdrawal? She doesn’t have ID.”

  “I don’t know how she’s going to do it, but Nadia is going to give Dante four million to get our mother back.”

  **

  Nadia Marie placed her hand on the scanner. The green light ran down her palm and registered her fingerprints. Thank you Lord for fancy technology. It barely mattered that she didn’t have ID or any other proof that she was the named owner of the account.

  The machine chimed. CONFIRMED: Nadia Marie Carleigh.

  She stepped back.

  “Okay, then.” The bank manager stepped back. Not surprised as such, but he certainly hadn’t expected her to be exactly who she said she was. “If you’ll take a seat, I’ll start the paperwork.”

  He walked off across the expansive lobby of the bank to his corner office. The sun was setting outside and cast a yellow glow across the room. The tellers looked tired from their long day.

  Nadia moved to a cushy armchair, looking like a hobo at a banquet. She’d needed a shower and a fresh set of clothes two days ago. Who knew what her hair looked like? Maybe she should offer Dante three and three quarter million and keep the rest so she could clean up and catch a flight home.

  She fingered the necklace. Should she activate it? What would Bolton say when he found out what she was doing? Maybe he wouldn’t even care, but she wasn’t ready to believe that. He’d been right there in the office when she was freaking out. She was still freaking out, and he was off trying to solve the problem. Men were like that, wading in so they could fix everything.

  But someone like Dante didn’t want to be solved. He only understood two things: power and money. A corrupt DEA agent just escaped from prison needed the cash to do what he wanted, and it wasn’t to hang around where people would find him. Why else would he be flying all over the country to stir up trouble and get to Bolton? Dante probably thought Bolton owed him something.

  Nadia had enough money to pay for it.

  The bank manager walked over with a tablet like the sheriff had. Nadia had only seen one on the internet, and on TV commercials. Maybe she would get herself one. There was no wireless sign
al in Sanctuary, but she could use other stuff on it. Everyone needed a calculator once in a while.

  “Sign here, please.”

  Nadia used her finger on the screen to authorize the transaction.

  “And the recipient’s account number?”

  “I’m going to get that for you very soon, but for right now I’d like to make a small withdrawal. Say, five thousand?”

  “Certainly, Ms. Carleigh. Although we close in thirty minutes so the…larger transaction may need to be completed tomorrow.”

  “If I get the account number for you tonight, I’ll bring it first thing in the morning.” It meant another night of worrying about her mom, but nothing would stop her from finishing this. She’d drawn enough attention to herself that Dante had to be on his way. When he showed up she would offer him the deal.

  “Of course.” The bank manager scurried off across the polished floor.

  Nadia sat again, the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders. Probably the weight of the last two months. Were Bolton and Ben okay? They’d been walking right into the lion’s lair. Had they found her mom there? Nadia fingered the necklace some more. She pressed front and back together, clicked the mechanism into itself and activated the tracker.

  How fast would he find her?

  Hopefully he would come before Shadrach, Remy, Ben, or Bolton figured out what she was doing. When he showed up, she’d convince Dante to accept her transfer and return her mom safe and sound. He needed to leave the rest of them alone then, whether or not he still intended to get Bolton. Nadia wasn’t under any illusion she could save him. Not if the man was determined enough. But Bolton had Ben on his side and apparently had for a long time. They were nearly BFF’s. If men like that had BFF’s. Bolton didn’t need her now. She would remove herself—and her mom—from this situation and do what he wanted.

  Walk away, and leave Bolton to live his new life the way he wanted her to.

  A man crossed the lobby and stood in front of her. Dirty jeans, thick blue jacket. Dark hair, but gray at his temples. The refined features of someone who got their hair cut and face shaved for no less than three hundred dollars but who had fallen on hard times. Or who’d been in prison for years.

  “Can I help you?” He probably thought she needed to be escorted from the building.

  “Hello, Nadia. Your mother sends her regards.”

  It was him. Dante. “I guess you caught me.”

  He leaned down and whispered. “I guess I did.”

  **

  The SUV sped down the interstate toward SEA-TAC airport. Bolton sat beside Ben in the back, both handcuffed. Where Tristan was planning to take them, who knew? Not somewhere public, given Bolton felt like he’d been on the wrong end of a mugging.

  Ben hadn’t been touched. He looked like an insurance salesman.

  The two men in front were more of Tristan’s soldiers. Bolton eyed the door, but it was locked. Probably child-locks too so they couldn’t get out. Though if he did he would only end up landing on the pavement at fifty miles an hour, and his back already hurt enough.

  “Sit tight,” Ben whispered.

  Bolton glanced aside at him but could read nothing on the man’s face. Ben always had something up his sleeves, but these were rolled up. Dante was going after Nadia, and Shadrach didn’t even know. There wasn’t enough time for Grant to reach them, and Daire was on vacation of all things.

  The front passenger turned back and smirked. “They told us you were rolling with Ben Mason. For real. Like that could happen. There was a rumor you guys were buds from way back, but looks like you got this guy instead of ‘The Ghost.’” He lifted the wallet in his hand and snorted. “Arthur Wilson. Insurance salesman.”

  Ben never had his actual, real identification on him. Bolton knew that. He had no digital footprint, and couldn’t be traced through bank transactions, email, or phone calls. His entire life was a shell corporation hidden in a shell corporation, so that anyone trying to find him only discovered a trail of activity that led back to a company owned by a company, owned by the trust fund of a deceased billionaire with no heirs. Confusing to anyone trying to find Ben, or trying to figure out who this man was.

  Still, evidently “The Ghost” had made some kind of impression on the world.

  Bolton turned to him. “It’s nice to meet you, Arthur.”

  The front passenger balked. “You don’t even know this guy?”

  “Met him on the road outside Tristan’s house. He must live nearby.”

  “We picked up a bystander!” The man bounced in his seat. “This is unbelievable. Tristan is going to freak when he finds out. He’ll probably kill us like he killed Stills and Hammer.” He stared hard at the driver, who wrung his hands on the wheel.

  “Just be cool, okay? Tristan isn’t going to shoot us and leave himself with no one but Little Pete. That ain’t gonna happen.”

  “Right.” The front passenger exhaled. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “So where are we going?”

  The front passenger jumped and turned at Bolton’s question. Apparently neither man had been privy to any conversation that might’ve happened between Ben and Tristan. Nor were they questioning the fact that this insurance salesman and supposed bystander wasn’t upset in the least about men with guns in his neighborhood—or about being taken captive by them. Or that he’d slipped away from whoever had been watching him in time to free Bolton.

  The front passenger opened his mouth and was side-swiped by the driver. “Ow!”

  “Don’t tell him anything. It doesn’t matter where we’re going.”

  Bolton shifted in an attempt to relieve the ache in his back. “Did you know Tristan is DEA, and that Dante Alvarez, the DEA agent who escaped from federal prison two weeks ago, was his partner?”

  The front passenger couldn’t hide it. He hadn’t known at least that last part. Until now. “The man is on a rampage Tristan isn’t going to be able to contain. He’ll probably kill all of us when he gets the chance. I mean, the man is coming for me. There’s no doubt he’s going to pop off anyone who gets in his way.”

  The driver snorted. “Why do you think you’re going into DEA custody? The feds will keep you contained and alive. At least while Tristan decides what to do with you.”

  Bolton glanced at Ben, who shut his eyes slowly. He was right, that wasn’t good. Though it was a valiant attempt by Tristan to control Dante. If he found Bolton in the DEA’s custody there wasn’t much he could do without alerting Tristan to it in the process. He was an escaped fugitive who should have been the subject of a nationwide manhunt. Marshals, DEA, FBI, ATF. Cops and sheriffs. Everyone should have been looking for Dante, and yet barely anyone even knew he had escaped.

  Tristan was doing okay so far, keeping this quiet. But how long did he have before the situation turned on him? They were all fighting the clock. If Bolton went back to Sanctuary, if he disappeared and Dante never found him—again—what would the man do? Would he leave everyone Bolton cared about alone, or would he never stop coming, never stop looking, until he uncovered Sanctuary and put everyone there in danger?

  No, Bolton needed to end Dante once and for all. To take the man down in a way that meant he could never destroy anyone else.

  The driver pulled the SUV into a rear entrance at the airport, slowed for the security guard and flashed a badge.

  Ben twisted his wrist to see the face of his watch, which flashed. The numbers disappeared and text scrolled across. “It’s Will.” He looked up and mouthed, “Shadrach located Nadia. He’s going to get her.”

  Bolton nodded. At least that was something. Shadrach would make sure his sister was safe, and Bolton certainly needed one less thing to worry about. Dante was enough for six lifetimes, let alone one lifetime where there were a handful of people—and a whole town—he had to make sure Dante didn’t find.

  Ben squeezed both sides of his watch and nodded his head in a slow count. He reached forward and touched the passenger’s neck. In one zap, the m
an slumped.

  The driver glanced aside. “What—”

  Ben touched his neck with the watch.

  With a muffled “huh” the man’s head hit the window. Ben reached forward and put the car in neutral. They were rolling slowly, but not slow enough this wasn’t going to hurt.

  Ben leaned across the driver’s lap and pulled the door handle. He fell out. Ben climbed in his seat, put the car in drive and hit the gas. He turned the car in a wide circle and headed back out of the airport.

  “We need to get on a plane. Why are you leaving? And what was that watch thing?”

  “Electric pulse, that’s all.”

  “Your watch gets texts, and is a stun gun?”

  Ben glanced aside as he drove and smirked. “Sends voice messages, too.”

  “Is that why you don’t have a cell phone, double-oh-seven?”

  Ben made a face. “Can’t go on an op with your phone beeping because your mom decides now’s a good time to chat. The only people who know where I am are my people. Cell phones give anyone who cares enough to look access to your entire life, everything personal there is to know about you and your precise global location. Tell me why I would want one of those?”

  “Because it’s easier than finding a payphone.” Bolton shifted forward and rummaged for the passenger’s phone. “Or stealing from someone. Pull over, will you?”

  Ben parked.

  With the man’s cell in hand, Bolton shoved him out the door then got out and collected their belongings—and a few extra’s like that nice Sig the man had been carrying. He got in the front seat and shut the door. “Go.”

  He set off. “Any other requests, sir?”

  Bolton ignored him. “Those guys are going to wake up twice as mad. They’ll be trying to find us before Dante does just so they can hit you back for that move.”

  Ben smirked. “I’ll add them to our list of known enemies. Oh wait, there isn’t enough paper in the world for that.”

 

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