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Unfucking-believable. “I lost her and my daughter for five fucking years, you asshole!” he yelled at the recorder.
It was as if Fletcher could hear him. “I didn’t know about the kid. That was a big fucking shock. I swear I didn’t know.”
Garrett grabbed the recorder, hurling it at the wall. The flimsy device broke into pieces.
No one said a word.
He thrust his hands into his hair. “Excuse me. I need some air.”
Chapter Seventy-Four
GARRETT
He burst into the street like he’d been shot out of a cannon. He was vaguely aware of Rainer and Elias at his back, but they gave him room as he strode to the widest free space nearest them, a small plaza on the other side road.
He walked the length of it over and over, trying to get ahold of himself before they made the trek back home.
I should call Emma.She needed to know that the nightmare was over. But his brilliant wife was going to ask him the same question he was asking himself.
Why the hell had Fletcher bothered to steal all that money if he was contemplating suicide?
It didn’t make sense. Garrett paced for several minutes, turning that over in his mind when he felt someone watching him. And it wasn’t his crew keeping an eye on him.
This scrutiny wasn’t friendly.
A tall older man with a full head of white hair was discreetly monitoring him. He was dressed in khaki shorts, a sleeveless white shirt, and aviator sunglasses.
He looked like any other tourist that frequented this small seaside resort. Except for the way he was tracking Garrett’s every movement.
On impulse, Garrett stalked to the opposite end of the plaza, taking out his phone.
The man was smooth, concealing his interest behind those aviators. But Garrett had been taught surveillance detection techniques by the best. He knew when he was being surveilled by a professional.
If Rainer was surprised to get a call from him when he was less than a hundred yards away, he didn’t show it.
“Don’t look at me or make it obvious in any way, but do you recall Emma’s description of the man who scared her? That insurance investigator?”
Across the plaza, Rainer turned his back, facing Ian and Elias to include them in the conversation. “She told George he was tall with white hair.”
“Hmm,” he murmured.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking—flowered shirt in the café?”
Garrett shrugged for the white-haired man’s benefit, but he continued in a low voice. “Fletcher had a fixer of some kind. He mentioned him in the recording. He said he’d done something to break me and Emma up. But that it blew up in his face.”
“The fake insurance investigator was meant to apply pressure,” Rainer said, catching on. “He told her that as long as she was living with you, they would suspect her of insurance fraud because she couldn’t afford to live in that building.”
“And instead of letting her find a new place to live, I married her, ensuring she didn’t go anywhere. Fletcher’s plan to separate us failed.”
Ian’s voice was low, but he was standing right next to Rainer, so Garrett heard him through the receiver. “We can’t be sure that’s the same guy.”
“Test,” he muttered. “Walk in his direction, the three of you. Gamma formation.”
The maneuver was one they’d practiced with the Auric team. It was just three men walking… but with extreme prejudice. Garrett knew from experience that seeing that wall of muscle bearing down at you was one of the more intimidating experiences in life.
His friends did menace very well.
But the man in the flowered shirt was a very cool customer. He saw the guys coming and rose nonchalantly, grabbing a leather satchel at his feet as he did.