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“Thank you for your cooperation, Mayor Hamilton,” Mitch replies as he stands and heads for the doors.

I give the windbag one last look before I follow Mitch out. “Don’t even think about calling your buddies and telling them we’re coming. And don’t think about leaving town, either,” I say. “I will hunt you down and drag you back here kicking and screaming if it’s the last thing I fucking do.”

Hamilton doesn’t say anything. Deep down, he understands he’s fucked six ways from Sunday, and that it will be worse unless we get to Tassia in time.

“Whatever your boss thought he was going to pull off here, it ends now,” I tell his assistant. “We need all the property deeds for Dexter Wright and Jake Merritt, for starters. And you’re going to get them for us.”

Balsam Lake.

Hamilton pointed us in the right direction the first time. Two hours of searching from Frost Valley toward Seager, checking a couple of other addresses along the way just to be sure, and the road still led us to Balsam Lake.

“It’s packed,” Mitch says, watching through his long-range binoculars from a safe distance.

We’re parked further down the country road leading around the lodge, hidden beneath the cover of night and pine trees. Lights flicker around the lodge from torches mounted along the wrap-around wooden porch.

“Patterson was able to scramble together a SWAT crew,” Tyler says as he gets off the phone. “They have the address. They’ll be here within the hour.”

“We might have to go in first and make sure we get Tassia out of there unharmed,” I reply. “Once SWAT barges in, there could be collateral damage, stray bullets. We can’t risk her safety.”

“I second that,” Mitch says.

We check our weapons and make sure we have enough ammunition mounted on our belts to easily reach for in case of the need for a quick reload. I stick to my semi-automatic rifle, while Tyler opts for two semi-automatic pistols. Mitch follows my lead with a rifle of his own, and all of us are also carrying our department-issued side arms. Between the three of us, there’s enough firepower to deliver extensive damage.

I just wish it didn’t have to come to this.

“Anything on thermal?” I ask Mitch.

He’s looking through a pair of tactical binoculars, trying to get a sense of movement through the windows. Shaking his head slowly, he puts them away and straps on his Kevlar vest. “Nothing conclusive. But she’s in there. We do have another problem, though.”

“What is it?” I reply, annoyance in my tone.

“Those aren’t just Silver Stallions guarding the place. Trevor brought a security detail of his own. They’re not wearing any patches, but they look like they’ve seen their share of armed fights before.”

“Then Tassia is definitely inside,” Tyler mutters. “I assume he wants to take his sweet time with her while they wait for the cartel shipment.”

“That’s coming tonight, apparently,” I say. “We might be able to get some details if we take Trevor alive.”

Tyler gives me a hard look. “Not too eager about that.”

“Hey, I’ve got movement. Someone’s coming out,” Mitch says, raising the binoculars to his face.

“Tassia and Trevor?” I ask, my heart skipping a beat.

“No. Dexter.”

“He could be useful,” Tyler suggests.

I give him a curious look. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

We wait for Dexter to get on his Harley and cautiously ride down the road. It will inadvertently lead him around to us, so Tyler and I get ready, hidden by the curve, while Mitch keeps his position by the SUV, watching Dexter approach.

“Thirty seconds and he’ll be within your reach,” Mitch’s voice comes through my earpiece.

I nod to Tyler. Weapons up, locked and loaded.

The rumbling of Dexter’s engine gets louder. The springs on his wheels squeal a little as he descends, but as soon as Tyler and I come out of the darkness, he’s forced to come to a full stop.

“We need to talk, Dexter,” I calmly say, my rifle pointed at his head.