Page 18

CHAPTER 18

KNOX

“What are you smiling about?”

Glancing up from my latest text from Lark, I look over at Ronan, who, instead of attaching the measuring rope to the post in the ground like he’s supposed to, is watching me with a giant shit-eating grin. Seeing that he has my attention, he chuckles. “Let me guess, a text from Lark?”

“Yes.” I fasten my end of the rope to the metal post by my feet. “She’s good, in case you were wondering.”

“I figured as much. You wouldn’t be smiling if she wasn’t.” He bends over and fastens his end of the rope, then rises and glances around the wooded area. “This is going to be a great location. Up on the hill like this, it’s a nice view.” He pauses, his expression shifting to something more serious. “And I’m really glad things are working out for you guys. Lark’s great. You deserve someone like her.”

There’s a hint of wistfulness in his tone, and while I’m pretty sure it stems from a relationship in Ronan’s past, I have pushed him to talk about it, and he hasn’t offered. Which is fine. I know how it is to not want to share painful memories. How sometimes it takes just the right person to draw them out. To lance the wound and help it heal.

A few seconds of silence go by, while Ronan seems lost in his thoughts. Then he lifts his chin and squares his shoulders. “Do you think Gage would like this location?”

“Has he decided to move onto the GMG property?” Gage lives the furthest from Bliss of any of us, almost an hour north of here. He never complains about making the drive for meetings or jobs, but it would be much easier for him if he lived closer. Enzo offered a spot on his property, and I volunteered to build it at cost, but Gage still hasn’t decided as far as I know.

Ronan nods. “I think so. He mentioned something to me a few days ago about really liking Bliss. About how he wouldn’t mind being closer to town if he still has a quiet place to live.”

“Well, this would do it. And I could space out the other cabin so it’s not as close. Give Gage some more space to himself.”

A thoughtful expression moves across his face. “That might be good. He likes his privacy. But… I think it might be good for him.”

“Same.” Gage and I both deal with PTSD, just as the rest of my teammates do at one time or another. But Gage has some really bad shit in his past, and until he agreed to help Enzo protect Winter, he’d pretty much isolated himself. “I’ll talk to Gage about it. We’re supposed to play WoW tonight, so I’ll bring it up then. If he wants this spot, I can make some customizations, too.”

“Nice.” Ronan adjusts his hat, tugging it over his pink-tipped ears. “Now, let’s get this measuring done. It’s fucking cold out here.”

“Well, if you’d stop jabbering and get to work,” I tease, “we’d be on?—”

I’m interrupted by a loud buzzing in my pocket, followed by the chime of an incoming text. Before I can even reach for my phone, another text comes through. And another.

“What’s going on?” Ronan asks, concern making his tone brisk.

“I don’t know.” As I pull my phone out, I add, “It’s Enzo’s number. I’m not sure why he’s texting before I can even answer.”

But there’s a sick feeling in my stomach. A chilling sense of foreboding that tells me Enzo wouldn’t be in such a hurry to reach me if it wasn’t important.

But there’s no reason to think it has anything to do with Lark. This could be about an upcoming job. Maybe a pro-bono one that needs to be handled right away. If the potential client is in grave danger, we couldn’t wait until after the holidays.

Still. After everything with Vinnetti and Ric, I think I’m entitled to worry a bit.

On the third ring, I answer, “Enzo. What’s up?”

His voice is all business. “Alec discovered something. Can you get to the house right away?”

I’m already moving toward my truck, gesturing for Ronan to follow. “What is it? ”

“It’s better if Alec explains it.”

“ Enzo. Is it about Lark?”

There’s a pause. A heavy silence. And then, “Yes. Alec found out something about Vinnetti. Is Lark at work?”

Leaping into the driver’s seat, I reply, “Yes. I just heard from her. She’s in her office.”

“Okay. So she’s safe. For now, just let her know to stay there. Okay?”

Fuck.

I thought this was over.

As I put the truck into gear, I end the call with Enzo and toss my phone to Ronan. “Can you text Lark? Tell her to stay in her office until she hears back from me.”

On a good day, it should only take five minutes to make the drive through the woods to Enzo’s house. But of course, when it’s urgent, we find three downed branches blocking our path. So it’s almost ten minutes later by the time we get there, and despite Ronan’s reassurances that Lark read the message, worry keeps swelling bigger and bigger inside me.

The second I burst into Enzo’s house, I bark, “What is it? What did you find out? Is Lark in danger?”

Enzo is already by the door waiting for us, and he waves us toward the dining area, where a laptop sits open on the table. “Alec’s at his office, so rather than wait for him to drive here, he’s on a conference call. Come sit down.”

But I’m not in the mood to sit. My body is too electric. Too full of nervous energy. It’s the exact opposite of how I used to be in the Army, always calm and infinitely patient while I waited for just the right shot.

This is different, though. This is about the woman I love.

Enzo pulls out a seat and sinks into it, while Ronan and I hover behind him. Alec’s on screen, looking very somber, and he gives a quick chin lift when he sees us.

“Okay.” No preface; Alec just jumps right into it. “I was going through some of the evidence in Lark’s case. You know I’ve been after them to share everything, but I kept getting pushback before. The prosecutor said it could compromise the case. But with Vinnetti dead and no accomplices?—”

“Alec.” My voice is strained. “Please get to it.”

“I’m just explaining why I didn’t see this until now,” he replies. “I wouldn’t have skipped checking any evidence had it been up to me. But once I got the remainder of it yesterday, I’ve been going through it all with a fine-tooth comb. Making sure nothing gets missed.”

“That’s good. But what did you find?”

“The photos they found. The ones with threats against Lark. In a small town like this, they don’t have handwriting experts, and with it seeming so…” Alec grimaces. “Someone missed it. The handwriting doesn’t match Vinnetti’s. I ran a sample from the photos through some analysis software, and it’s close, but not a match. So I reached out to a buddy of mine in the FBI. His specialty is handwriting analysis. He agreed. Whoever wrote those messages, it wasn’t Vinnetti.”

My heart stutters. Is he saying what I think he’s saying ?

Enzo glances at me, worry in his gaze. “So we’re thinking?—”

“There was someone else involved.” My molars almost crack in two, I’m grinding them so hard. “Someone else out there that the police don’t know about. Someone who may—fuck, probably—wants to hurt Lark.”

Ronan’s hand covers my shoulder. “We don’t know that for sure.”

Spinning to face him, I snap, “What else can it mean? Some innocent person just willingly scrawled horrible messages all over photos of my girlfriend? Why? It doesn’t make sense.”

“It seems likely it’s an accomplice,” Enzo agrees. “Which is why we want Lark to stay at work. There’s security there, right? And if she’s in her office…”

“Yeah. There’s security.” I take a steadying breath, reminding myself it’s not Alec’s fault the police missed a critical clue. “And Ronan texted her.” I turn to Ronan. “Did she reply?”

He hands my phone to me. “Not yet. But it says the message was read. She’s probably in a meeting or something.”

“I’m going there now,” I announce. “I don’t feel comfortable with her being there alone.”

Alec nods. “I’m working on trying to identify the accomplice. Unless I have other handwriting samples, that’s not going to help. But I have Vinnetti’s cell phone records. And his laptop.”

“How did you get his laptop?” Ronan asks, his brows jumping up in surprise.

“As soon as Alec spotted the handwriting error, I called Quill.” Enzo pauses, then clarifies, “Officer Quillian. He wasn’t involved in that part of the investigation, and was more than a little pissed that they missed it. And knowing how important Lark is to all of us… he managed to unofficially lend it to Alec for a few hours.”

“I tried hacking into Vinnetti’s laptop before, but it’s been powered off,” Alec explains. “And without it even being plugged in, I wasn’t able to remotely access it. But now… I’m hoping I can find something.”

“I can’t wait.” Yanking my car keys from my pocket, I take a few steps toward the door. “It’s going to take me forty minutes to get to Montpelier already.”

“Of course.” Enzo gives me a chin lift. “I’ll call you the second I hear anything.”

“I’ll come with you.” Ronan meets my gaze. “I can drive while you call Lark. Explain what’s going on.”

“Okay.” Fear is beating at me, a silent but insistent voice urging me to move faster. To get to Lark’s office right away. Faster than that. Now .

Forget walking, I break into a jog as we leave the house. I throw my keys at Ronan and say, “Go as fast as you can without getting pulled over.”

“Will do.” He hops into my truck and turns it on. His eyes are dark and determined. “We’ll get to your girl, Knox. She’ll be fine.”

I wish it was that easy to believe. But the same thought keeps repeating. Lark’s alone and I’m not there to protect her.

Lark’s alone and I’m not there to protect her.

Fuck. I promised.

As Ronan accelerates down Knox’s driveway and takes a sharp turn onto the road, I call Lark, hoping like anything that she’s still in her office and that she answers right away.

But she doesn’t. The call goes to voicemail.

Shit.

I call again.

The same thing happens.

I’m about to text her when a message blinks onto my screen. Lark .

Sorry I couldn’t answer. I have someone in my office. I saw Ronan’s message. What’s wrong?

Relief rushes through me so quickly I’m breathless for a second. Then I quickly send a reply.

Can you ask them to leave? I need to talk to you. It’s important. And please, stay in your office.

The three dots on the screen blink for a second.

Yes. Just give me a minute.

Ronan glances over. “Can you put Lark’s office in the GPS? I know Montpelier, but I’m not exactly sure where she is.”

“Yes.” I reach to the dashboard and punch in her company’s address. “She’s in her office, still. Just in a meeting, but she’s going to call me right back.”

He nods, approval in his eyes. “Good. So she’ll be safe until we get there. And then—you’re bringing her back to GMG again?”

Shit. Of course, Lark’s safety is my priority, but there’s less than a week until Christmas. Her cabin is all decorated. We have plans to see her dad. She’s going to be crushed if we have to cancel.

Dammit.

This is the part no one tells you about love. That when you love someone, you take their pain as your own. And nothing hurts more than seeing their pain and knowing there’s nothing you can do to take it away.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Even with the new security at her place, it’ll be safer at GMG. It’s just?—”

My phone rings, and for just a millisecond, my brain thinks it’s Lark.

Then I realize, no. It’s Enzo . Which means he has news.

I jab at the phone to answer. “What did you find?”

Enzo’s voice is grim as he says, “Alec found a connection between Vinnetti and Lark.”

“What?”

“It’s not definite, Knox. But it gives us a suspect.” A pause, and then, “There were some deleted emails. They didn’t say anything overtly suspicious. But it looks like code for something else. A job, maybe.”

“A job? Like a job to break into Lark’s house and shoot her?”

Distractedly, I feel the truck moving faster.

“Yes.” Enzo pauses again. “The emails were to a man named Edward Harrison. He works at Lark’s company.”

Fuck.

Panic is threatening to take over, but I force myself to stay calm. To remind myself that she’s in her office. In a building with almost one-hundred employees. She’s safe. She just has to get this person out of her office and lock the door.

Clicking the phone over to speakerphone, I send another text to Lark.

Don’t freak out. Alec found some info. He thinks Edward Harrison might be involved. Do you know him? I’m on my way with Ronan. Stay in your office with the door locked until I get there.

Five agonizing seconds pass—I know because I counted them—before her reply appears.

Ed’s in my office. Trying to get rid of him now. Will call when he’s gone.

Oh, fuck.

Enzo is still talking. “Alec investigated him before, but there was nothing alarming. No red flags. Just a long-term employee?—”

But I’ve stopped listening. It’s hard to hear anything other than the frantic pounding of my heart.

“Ed’s in her office,” I say through a narrowing throat. “That’s who she was talking to when I texted her.”

Fuck.

Logically, I know she should be okay.

That Ed has no idea we’re on to him.

But.

Lark has such an expressive face. Her cheeks go pink whenever she’s nervous.

Fuck.

I’m scared for her.

While Ronan pushes the truck even faster and fear makes frantic wingbeats in my chest, I text Lark one more time.

Please. Be careful. I’ll be there soon.

This time, the response is immediate.

I will.