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This time it was Gia who spoke up. “He’ll come because he believes he holds all the power.”
She stretched out her hand in supplication to the man who wielded the authority. “He tried to murder your grandson, and he won’t hesitate to hurt Jennie to force me to return to him. He needs to be stopped.”
Silence blanketed the room.
Ben exhaled slowly. “This stays between us. The more people involved, the greater the chance someone whispers the truth in Lopez’s ear.”
His gaze lasered in on Caleb, then moved to Zach. “If you fail, the responsibility will fall on me.”
Caleb shifted uneasily in his chair. He hadn’t considered the risk to his grandfather’s position, his family’s safety.
“Report back when you have the details in place.” Ben said. “I’m due at the Tribal Council chambers.”
They stood to leave, but Ben stopped Caleb. “Stay a moment, Grandson.”
Caleb stiffened.Now what?
He darted a glance at Zach, who shrugged.
Gia squeezed his arm. “We’ll wait outside.”
Once the door closed behind Zach and Gia, his grandfather spoke. “Don’t let your anger make you reckless.”
“I won’t.” But Caleb wouldn’t deny it fueled him—his mother’s death, the threat to Gia, Jennie’s life hanging in the balance.
Ben gave a sharp nod, as if that settled the matter. Then he hefted a brown cardboard box from behind his desk. “This came today. Addressed to you.”
Caleb took the box and glanced at the sender address.
Camila had forwarded his mother’s belongings. All that was left of her.
“Whatever answers are in there, I hope they bring you peace.” Ben’s voice gentled. “We are your family, whether you recognize us or not.”
Caleb’s throat tightened. He didn’t push back this time.
“We’ll get Jennie back. And keep Gia safe.”
Back at the safe house Zach stood, arms crossed, a glower creasing his forehead. The grim set of his eyes told her he didn’t like the plan they’d made—but he’d agreed to it.
“We’re not letting him touch you,” Caleb said, his voice edged with danger. The tone raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
“But?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
His eyes were bleak. “We need him to think I’m willing to hand you over. You need to be there when this goes down.”
“I know.” She’d always known.
He took her hand, pulled her into his arms. “Trust me.”
She melted into him, letting his strength calm her. “I do.”
“Your phone.” He cupped her cheek, studied her face. “Are you ready?”
Her throat too tight for words, she nodded and handed it over.
Caleb met Zach’s eyes over her head. Whatever passed silently between them seemed to satisfy him.
“Let me do the talking.” He tapped the number Vincente had used to send the photo of Jennie—bruised and terrified—and switched the phone to speaker.