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“What do you want them to do about the big guy?” Oscar asked.
“What big guy?”
“The man with her. They seem pretty familiar with each other. The way he’s looking at her, I figure he’s sweet on her.”
Hmm. He’d been so focused on the woman, he’d shut everything else out, including the man at the table with her.
He handed the phone back to Oscar. “Play it again.”
Oscar backed up the footage and shoved the phone back beneath Kevin’s gaze. When his eyes rested on the man, he saw something familiar—not because he knew the man. No, this was an instinctive awareness. Like recognized like. This man might be dressed in expensive togs, but he was no pretty boy. Whoever this guy was, he was dangerous. Meaning he wouldn’t give up easily. If they snatched the girl, the man wouldn’t rest until he’d found her.
“Get rid of him.”
“You want ’em to go ahead and grab the girl, too?”
“Absolutely. That’s the first order of business. We can’t risk losing her.”
“She’s a little older than Malcolm’s son, but stuff like that don’t matter much anymore. I hear he’s got a girlfriend, but I’m sure he’d come around. She’ll be a welcome addition to the family.”
Marrying the girl off to a distant relative was not going to happen. This was too big of an opportunity to pass off to someone who wouldn’t appreciate what they had.
Oscar was fishing, and as much as Kevin appreciated this being brought to his attention, there was no way in hell he was going to share with anyone his plans for the girl. Especially not his brother-in-law. No one could know until it was fait accompli.
Placing a friendly arm around Oscar’s shoulders, Kevin led him to the door. “You did good, man. There will be a little extra something in your bank account this month.”
“Thanks, Kev. Glad I could help. Let me know if there’s anything else you need me to do.”
“Let me know the instant you secure her. I’ll have a place ready.”
“Sure thing.”
“Oh, and, Oscar? She may not come willingly, but tell them she’s not to sustain one bruise. Understand?”
“Sure thing. These guys are professionals.” He grinned and added, “Besides, how much trouble can a little thing like her cause?”
The door had barely closed before Kevin was back at his desk. He was a meticulous and organized man who planned his actions ahead of time. Taking a new notepad and pen from his top drawer, he began to jot down a list of things he needed to accomplish. He stared at the third item on the list, drew in a breath, and flipped the page. That one would require a list of its own. At the top of the blank page, he gave the new list a title: Get Rid of Current Wife.
CHAPTER NINE
Jazz walked into her motel room and threw the keys to her rental car on the desk. She’d seen the OZ alert about the man in the next town over who had been fingered as the shooter. The “killer” had made it too easy for them. Ranting like an idiot on social media about how much you hated someone was never a good look, but when that person ended up murdered? A few planted clues, some doctored video, a quiet whisper to federal law enforcement, and voilà, a murderer was found.
Police had surrounded his home. Cornered and probably seeing no way out, the guy had reacted exactly how they’d likely predicted. The shootout had been massive and deadly. The supposed perpetrator was now dead, and as far as the world was concerned, Franco Bass’s homicide case was closed.
Option Zero knew better, and they were still on the case. Jazz knew better, too. Whoever the guy had been, he had not been the one to fire the bullet that killed Bass. She knew without a doubt that that man was Brody McAlister.
Since the case was closed, investigating under the radar would take a bit more stealth than usual. Especially since Xavier and Hawke would be asking the same questions. The last thing she wanted was to run into them. Explaining why she was still on the case would be impossible.
Her first order of business after grabbing her stuff from the suite she and Xavier had been sharing had been to rent a car and drive in the direction Brody had taken after the shooting. Though it seemed like a lame first step, she had wanted to get it out of the way. The thinking time had been good for her. She now had a plan of action.
A couple of hours ago, she had been fortunate to find a friendly, extremely chatty sous-chef named Hannah, who happened to be walking out LuLu’s back door seconds after Jazz had parked in the alley. The girl had been more than happy to sit down with a cup of coffee and a slice of pie at a nearby diner and share what she knew. Jazz got the impression the shooting was the most exciting event that had ever happened to Hannah.
In the midst of the conversation, she’d told Jazz that a member of their kitchen staff, a man who’d been working there for over two months, had disappeared right after the shooting, and the phone number he’d given was no longer working. Hannah was concerned that the shooting had traumatized him. After the vague description she gave of the man, named Brian Mitchell, it was obvious that Hannah would never hear from him again—and it confirmed to Jazz that the kitchen aide had indeed been her brother.
The fact that he’d worked at the restaurant for two months prior to Bass’s assassination was interesting but not that much of a surprise. The people behind the killing were definitely long-range planners. The minute Bass had signed up with the Wren Project, he’d had an expiration date.
She took a long breath and let her eyes roam the cheap, nondescript room. The motel was a no-frills and low-profile establishment, which was what she needed. It was also located across town from the restaurant, so there was no way she would run into anyone from OZ.
Earlier, she had scoured the internet for footage of the shooting. Thanks to modern technology and the age of social media, there were numerous videos of the event. She’d even found one with a three-second blip of her and Xavier at their table. She had sent Serena a text to let her know so it could be taken down. Serena had responded that she was already working on it.