Page 8 of Lethal Deceit (Hightower Security #2)

Mick

After hustling to throw a few things together, including extra ammo and handcuffs, I’m ready to leave. Technically, I can’t arrest anyone on land, but I can detain someone while the PD is called.

I flick Brooke a quick text so she knows I’m not going to be at home for a while then follow Caleb outside. When he gestures to it, I toss my bag in the back of the black Jeep parked out front and climb in.

Heavy metal fills the interior, making me wince. Never been a fan of that kind of music. I’m not even sure if it qualifies as music. Noise, maybe.

Rather than sit in the front, Caleb slides in beside me and gestures to the driver to pull out.

“Turn it down.”

The driver, a guy younger than me, grunts and turns the volume down with all the petulance of a teenager.

“What’s his problem?”

Caleb clicks his seat belt into place.

“Newbie’s sulking because Reese didn’t let him fly the plane on the way out here.”

In front of him, the driver groans.

“When are you going to quit calling me a newbie? My name is Jake.”

Righto. “Mick,”

I say to him.

Jake nods and smirks in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah. I know. After that interview everyone knows who you are.”

Caleb points at my belt.

“Safety first.”

I ram the belt into place and look across at him.

“Where is she?”

He takes his time answering, rubbing his chin.

“Don’t you want to know how we found her?”

“You can tell me after I have her in cuffs.”

Caleb nods.

“You hungry?”

I squint at him.

“What? No.”

His eyes snap to the driver.

“Jake? You hungry?”

Jake nods.

“I could eat.”

Caleb rubs his hands together.

“Settled then. Find the nearest drive-thru, and we’ll eat on the way.”

“On the way where?”

“You’ll see. But I think you’ll be right at home.”

Something isn’t lining up, but I owe these guys my life, so I ask another question.

“Why aren’t Reese and Verity here?”

Caleb smiles.

“Reese is here. But he’s at the hangar with the plane, and Verity is at home, training their new pooch.”

I’d probably have known that if I’d ever called her back.

“So they aren’t why you’ve found her?”

He grins at me.

“They did their part. But after we knew she was in Miami, it’s just been a matter of following the trail of destruction.”

It’s not an answer, but I play along.

“How?”

“She has an MO, same as any criminal. Trouble is, she’s smarter than most.”

She could be a frickin’ genius for all I care. All criminals look dumb in orange jumpsuits.

“Tell me about the trail you’re following.”

He gives me a clipped nod.

“The PD were inundated with calls after your broadcast went out. Think they took you off their Christmas card list.”

My gut twists into a knot.

“Yeah. I figured. But something must have come out of it if you’ve located her?”

Caleb shakes his head.

“We found her because we already had an idea of where to look.”

“How?”

His gaze falls, and he looks downward, stalling maybe.

“We have our own people on this, and we have access to programs they don’t.”

“That’s conveniently vague.”

He laughs lightly.

“I’m not about to give away all the ingredients to our special sauce. Let’s just say that we had a head start.”

This guy is grating on my nerves. I’m itching to find her, and he’s wasting time. I’m opening my mouth to ask another question when Jake pipes up.

“There’s a Chick-fil-A up ahead. You want that?”

Caleb cranes his neck to see out the windshield.

“Yeah. Get seven grilled chicken sandwiches.”

I cock my eyebrow. “Seven?”

Caleb grins.

“Yeah. I’m not that hungry.”

Five minutes later, Jake distributes the food, but rather than dig in, he twists in his seat and eyes Caleb.

In response, Caleb closes his eyes.

“Thank you, Lord, for this food. Please bless our efforts, guide us, be our shield, strengthen us, and help us to not be led by our emotions. Amen.”

I can’t help but think that prayer was mostly about me, but I add my “amen”

before chomping into the sandwich I wasn’t planning on eating.

Caleb puts away three, and Jake only manages two, which he eats almost faster than Caleb does. The second he’s finished, we’re back on the road again, with Caleb dropping tidbits about the woman who we’re on the hunt for.

“Based on the tip-offs, we have around a dozen men who have reported spending time with her over the past six months.”

“She’s a pro?”

He shakes his head.

“No. Things never get physical. And each man has a different impression of her. To one man, she’s demure; to another, she’s confident.”

“Oldest con in the book. Become whatever you think they want you to be. All the better to fleece unsuspecting marks,”

Jake says from the front.

Caleb nods.

“As far as we can tell, she’s had at least six identities that she rotates,” he says.

“Do you have her real name? She told me it was Stella.”

His mouth presses down.

“Yeah. We think we do. Not a pretty story.”

Is this guy for real? He’s feeling sorry for her.

“What? She grow up on the streets or something?”

He shakes his head and puts his half-eaten sandwich down.

“Parents handed her over to a total stranger when she was seven. Cute kid, she was, too.”

Hard to brush a statement like that off without coming across as heartless.

“Can parents do that?”

It’s Jake who answers, grinding the words out.

“Yeah. Parents who want to give up their kids just find Facebook groups full of wannabe adopters and claim they’re looking to give their kid a better life.”

I glance at Caleb for confirmation. His jaw’s set, expression tight.

“Plenty of parents happy to sign away their rights.”

I thought I’d seen the worst humanity had to offer. Turns out I was wrong.

“And this is legal?”

I ask, already knowing the answer.

Jake barks a humorless laugh.

“Yeah. It’s called rehoming. Like kids are pets.”

Disgust coils in my gut. I stare out the window, watching the world blur past.

“It’s abandonment. Dressed up with paperwork.”

Jake swerves around a corner, harder than necessary, and I grab the handhold to brace myself.

Caleb exhales slowly.

“Samantha Duke was rehomed twice before she was eight.”

Jake blows out a breath.

“She would’ve gotten real good at trying to be whatever the family wanted.”

My fingers clench into a soft fist.

“You know all this—does that mean you know her real name?”

“Samantha Abigail Duke,”

Caleb says.

Samantha. I finally have a name to put to the face I see each night in my dreams. But the picture Caleb and Jake are painting of her isn’t the one I’d dreamed up.

“Plenty of people have lousy childhoods. That doesn’t give them a free pass to do whatever they want.”

“Never said it did. But you branding her a terrorist isn’t entirely accurate.”

I choke out a laugh.

“She tried to kill me. How is she not a terrorist?”

“I’m not convinced she did. But guess we’ll find that out soon enough. Long as you keep your head, that is.”

My appetite gone, I fold the wax paper over the rest of my food and look out the window. Just beyond, beside Government Cut, sits the Miami Beach Marina—no fixed bridges, deep water, and direct access to the open sea.

I swing my gaze back to Caleb.

“You think she has a boat?”

He swipes his mouth and balls the wrappers in his fist.

“I think she’s trying to get out of Miami undetected. She’s not at the airport, and we’ve put the word out at the other marinas. That leaves this one.”

“And we stopped to get food?”

Caleb stuffs the remaining sandwiches into the bag.

“She’s not going anywhere until it’s dark. We’ve got time.”

His relaxed attitude is starting to get to me.

“You don’t know that. Smugglers are getting smarter. They’re hiring charter boats and posing as tourists. She could be halfway to the Bahamas.”

He’s silent, and Jake doesn’t say a word.

“What? You know what boat she’s on?”

“We know enough.”

My jaw starts to ache from clenching it.

“Stop the car.”

Caleb’s eyebrow raises, and I catch Jake’s confused expression in the rearview.

“We’re nearly?—”

“Stop the car, or I’ll stop it for you,” I say.

Beside me, Caleb lets out a sigh.

“You don’t want to do this.”

As Jake pulls into the nearest vacant parking spot adjacent to the marina, I grab my pack.

“Yeah. I do. You’re not being straight with me. No way am I going to run into this with two guys I can’t trust.”

I give him enough time to come clean before I wrench the door open, pausing only to pull my pack on and tug the straps tight.

“Tell Silas thanks but no thanks. I’ll find her on my own,”

I say over my shoulder before I stalk across the road.