Page 95 of Missing Justice

“Holy fuck,” Matt said.

The funny thing was that the silver truck was still in front of them as they sped toward the address Grey had provided. Taylor squinted at the rear lights of the truck. “Did Rosalind, by any chance, call in backup?”

“She may have. Why?”

Taylor pointed at the truck and Matt gave her another knowing nod. Dwayne Glaw was going to the same address. “We’re almost there already, Grey. Don’t worry.”

“Did you call the cops?” Matt asked.

“Better,” Grey said. “I called the Justice Team. Brennan and Gerard will be there shortly.”

Matt grinned like this was the best time he’d had in awhile. “Hot damn.”

Taylor sank back and gripped the door tighter as Matt floored it.

* * *

Matt slowed to a crawl and watched the silver truck pull into a parking lot half a block ahead. Glaw thought he’d lost them. Hell, he almost had when they’d gotten stuck at a light with a funeral procession making its way through the intersection. Being familiar with the area from his homicide days, Matt cut down an alley, hooked a left on the next block, shot down two streets and made another left that brought them within a half block of the silver truck.

He glanced at Taylor. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That Ros just summoned Glaw to help her? You know it. Why else would he be coming to this address after Grey has just told us Mitch and Caroline are blown?”

He cruised by the front of the building, a spanking new single-story cement structure with large windows and warm beige paint. There were three cars in the lot. Caroline’s Toyota, Ros’s Escalade and the silver truck.

Matt considered pulling in the lot, but what a way to announce oneself.

“Let’s see if there’s a back entrance,” Taylor said.

A woman after his own heart. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

At the corner, Matt made a right and—bingo—directly behind the building was another entrance with vacant parking spaces and a dumpster that still contained construction debris.

“Brand new building, I guess.”

“Grey said something about that on the phone.”

He bypassed the empty parking spaces and pulled behind the dumpster, out of sight from the building just in case someone happened to look out.

“Um,” Taylor said. “Plan?”

He grabbed his lock-picking tools from the glove compartment. “We’re going inside.”

“That’s the plan? I think we’re missing a few key elements. Like, oh yeah, is anyone armed besides Roz, will we be seen walking in? Will we beshotdoing so? I mean, for the love of God, we can’t just go in there blind.”

“Watch me. However, we will be careful. When we pulled in, I noticed the blind on the side window wasn’t all the way down. You check that one. I’ll take those on this side. See if we notice anything.”

“I’m on it.”

He handed her an earbud and plugged one into his own ear. After syncing them, he watched her walk off, her tremendously fantastic ass swinging gently as she made her way toward the window. Jeez, he had no time for this now. He needed his brain to not be focused on the damned pheromones activating it.

Later though, after they bailed Monroe out of this jackpot—he so owes me for this—they’d revisit the whole pheromone thing.

At the edge of the building, he stopped and did what one of his SWAT buddies called the very complex quick peek. Pretty much, that’s all it was. A look around the edge of the building fast enough to get out of the way of a bullet.

Side of the building clear.

Excellent.