Wintering with George, page 5
“Sure.”
“I know Dr. Lee will want us to talk about this.”
“I’m sure he will.”
He moved then, and sat next to me. “Are you gonna stay here?”
“For a while.”
“How long?”
“We’re leaving before New Year’s.”
He seemed to be absorbing that. “What if someone bad comes back?”
“Your mother said she’ll be looking into additional security for you guys.”
“That’s good, right?”
“It is.”
It seemed like he wanted something, but I wasn’t sure what.
“You know, when I get scared when I’m not at home, sometimes after things happen that are bad, one of my friends will sit next to me and put an arm around me until I feel better.”
He looked up at me.
“And that would be okay if you wanted that too.”
“It would?”
“Sure,” I told him.
He reminded me of his mother, the way he simply dived in to the deep end. One moment he was sitting beside me, the next he was leaning against my shoulder. When I lifted my arm, he sagged into my chest with my arm around him. If his sigh was any indication, he was content. So the two of us just sat there together in silence. Moments later, Kurt appeared at the doorway to find me holding Dennis, who had fallen asleep.
“What’s happening?” he whispered.
“He wanted to talk.”
“You know,” he said, slipping into the room, “as a rule, this one is not a hugger, not a big toucher. I think he’s got some sensory issues that aren’t just socks with no seams—”
“I don’t like socks with seams either,” I reminded him.
“Yes, and that’s why you buy the seamless kind, which is what Sin gets for him.”
“Okay…”
“What I’m trying to tell you is that normally, the sensory piece affects him in other ways too, like not wanting to be touched by others.”
I shrugged.
“But I guess when your guardian angel holds you, that’s okay.”
“Is there such a thing as a guardian demon?”
He scoffed. “You’re an angel, make no mistake.”
“Don’t make me barf on the kid, all right?”
His chuckle was soft and warm and ran right through me. My whine just popped out, and I realized how needy I was.
Bending, he slipped his hand around the side of my neck, his fingers featherlight on my skin as he kissed me. It was gentle, just his mouth on mine for a moment, but when he began to lift away, I clutched at his sweater to keep him close.
“Oh,” he breathed out, “he needs me.”
Part of me was horrified at the thought that anyone could be necessary, but of course it was all right if it was just for sex and closeness.
“George?” he teased me, smiling with his twinkling eyes.
“Hell,” I grumbled, because even as I thought it, I knew it was a lie. It wasn’t just screwing I craved, because if that were true, anyone would do, and really, the only person I wanted anything from was him. The idea of lying in bed, just having him wrapped around me, sounded heavenly.
His soft laughter, husky and low, made me groan.
“I will get rid of this kid, and we—”
“Uncle Kurt?”
Turning, we saw Toby standing just outside the door to our bedroom.
“Hey, buddy,” Kurt greeted him. “Do you want to come in and meet George?”
He nodded, looking apprehensive, but I understood. Eleven wasn’t so big, after all.
“Hi,” I said, holding out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Rushing forward, he took hold of my hand and held tight. “Thank you for saving me and my family.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied with a smile.
“It doesn’t seem enough just to say words.”
“It is, though,” I assured him.
“I was scared.”
“So was I.”
“No you weren’t.”
“I was,” I stated, letting him hear the sincerity in my words. “But when you get older, you separate the fear from everything else and—”
“Compartmentalize,” he apprised me.
“Uh, yeah.”
He shrugged. “I know. I have a therapist.”
“I know, kid.”
He took a breath. “Uncle Kurt, Mom says that if she doesn’t have the party, she has to pay back a lot of money to her sponsors, so she has to have it anyway.”
“No,” Kurt said quickly, bolting out of the room.
We both watched him go, then turned back to one another.
“It’s not her fault,” Toby said. “Dad talked her into it.”
“Why would he do that?”
“It’s because he borrowed money he has to pay back or he’s gonna get in trouble.”
I nodded. “So if your mom doesn’t have the party, then your dad can’t repay his loan, right?” He nodded. “Would you tell me how you know that?”
“I was listening when he was on his cell phone. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I needed a screwdriver. He was in his bedroom, and I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I know that’s bad.”
I was about to ask more questions, like how he was so sure about everything, but then he said, “He had his phone on speaker, so I could hear.” After a moment he added, “He sounded scared.”
I was so tired. I just wanted Kurt, and I wanted to sleep. But everything Toby was telling me had to be dealt with, and I could have kicked myself. Earlier, I’d felt something was off when I was talking to the cops, but I’d allowed myself to stop thinking about it and let it go. Even thinking I’d have to be watchful hadn’t stopped me from taking myself off high alert. But I knew better. Until there was a clear answer, you stayed ready, which meant there was only one thing to do. I had to act.
“Hey,” I said softly, and Toby met my gaze. “Do you know how to pack?”
His brows furrowed. “Like for a trip or for school?”
“Trip.”
He nodded.
“Like toothbrush, underwear, all that?” I verified.
“Sure.”
“Do me a favor, Toby. Go pack a week of stuff for you and Dennis. Can you do that?”
“Yeah.”
“And bring stuff for both of you to play with too.”
“Got it,” he said, serious.
“And any homework that’s supposed to be done.”
He groaned as he left my room, and I was smirking after him as I laid his brother down on the bed and called my buddy, Chris Mancuso, who’d been in the Army once upon a time but was now a contract killer—I didn’t like to use that word, but that’s what he was. And he had intel on everyone. I could have called one of the guys in my unit, but then I’d have to explain everything, and I just wasn’t up for that. I needed help without background. So I turned to Chris, the guy who’d been my mentor and basically made me far more lethal than I would have been without him. He picked up on the second ring.
“Family time, Hunt,” he explained, and I could hear excited shrieking in the background. He had three daughters, and his wife, Jill, was both brilliant—she was an attorney—and stunning. How and why she fell for Chris was a mystery.
“I know, Chris. Where are you?”
“It’s Christmas,” he grumbled. “I’m in Barcelona.”
Of course he was.
Now, I know people say crime doesn’t pay, and I get that depending on the illegal activities one partakes in, death could happen before you even get to reap the rewards of your illicit endeavors. All the guys I knew, though, who had retired from the Army, were happy and well off and got that way doing highly nefarious and terrible things. Did they all have moral codes they stuck to? Yes. Were their actions still against the law and would get them either executed or put in a cell for the rest of their lives? Another resounding yes. And were many of them, like Chris, protected by the US government? Again, yeah. So whenever people said to me that crime doesn’t pay, I took that with a grain of salt.
Chris, in particular, had served his country with distinction and then taken his unique skill set on the road. These days, he killed people only when he was paid to do so, but he also did his own research to determine if the person asking needed killing instead of the person he was hired to put a bullet in. I could never do that. I would not be taking my skills, once I left the Army, and become a contract anything. I liked working security at Sutter. My boss, Miguel Romero, had basically told me to sit tight because the top spot was mine once he retired. I had told him on a number of occasions that I wasn’t gunning for his job. I liked my life just as it was now. No need to speed up his retirement plans. He had been looking at brochures for cruises lately, and I didn’t like the look of that.
“What do you want?” Chris growled, reminding me why I’d called him. I really was tired. “Do you have some sixth sense about when I’m about to be happy and call to ruin it?”
“First, that’s mean. And second, no, I do not. I’m just out of pocket, so there’s no way I can get the information I need in the time frame I need it in.”
“The hell does that mean?” Heavy sigh, and I could imagine him shaking his shaggy head. He looked like an older Jim Morrison. His hair hit his shoulders, there was a beard and mustache too, along with a year-round golden tan. His deep-set brown eyes missed absolutely nothing. Ever.
“I just got back from an op, and I’m beat to shit, and I need help.”
He grunted.
“Is that a yes?”
“You know that’s a yes, asshole.”
Charming. “I need you to run a name for me.”
“Who?” he asked, sounding annoyed.
“Brad Carr. He’s my partner’s brother-in-law, and I think something bad may be going down with him.”
“Why?”
I told him all about earlier in the day.
“Where were you?”
“Minsk.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Getting the reporter out?”
“Yeah.”
He coughed softly. “I heard you guys had to go to ground for a week because there was no exit strategy when your intel went to shit.”
“Correct.”
“When did you get back?”
“Today.”
“Today?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait, have you slept?”
“No, sir,” I teased him.
“Did someone fuckin’ feed you?”
“Yes,” I grumbled, thinking I could eat again.
“Okay, give me a few minutes to see if—oh. Wait. Where are you?”
“I’m in Portland.”
“I know you’re in fuckin’ Portland. I can see where you’re calling from since you got me on my sat phone. I’m asking where precisely.”
“At Brad and Thomasin Carr’s home.”
“Thomasin?”
“Her brother calls her Sin for short.”
“Yeah, that’s terrible, but listen, Brad there owes money to a guy named Melor Vladek, whose father, Victor, used to have ties to the Petrov crime family out in your neck of the woods before their guy in charge, Burian, went to a nice federal prison.”
“I saw that on the news.”
“Well, Vladek, senior, is now moving some serious product with a cartel out of Sinaloa, but I mean, that’s his business, nothing for you to get in the middle of.”
“What is my business?”
“That his son, Melor, invests in different things—think venture capital—and this is how he knows Brad.”
“Okay.”
“Brad has made him a lot of money, and everything was great up until Thomasin went into her last venture, which is, apparently, flipping houses like all the other lovely folks on HGTV, except, unlike the others, her changes are only cosmetic and so nothing sold.”
“So the rest of her business is holding up this buying-and-selling-houses one.”
“Correct. Her whole schtick is that interior decorating is all you really need.”
It sounded really dumb to me. “That sounds terrible.”
“It is.”
“And because, I’m guessing, the rest of her businesses would be drained dry by the strain, Brad put in money from his business to help cover his wife.”
“Yep.”
“And since he didn’t have enough, he borrowed from Melor Vladek.”
“You’re good at this. You should work in intelligence or something.”
“Funny.”
“Apparently, Vladek has been sitting on this loan for about six months, and he’s done waiting. I guess Brad”—he said his name snidely—“thought it was a good idea to tell a Russian mobster that his wife had a trust fund from her grandparents that’s worth quite a bit and that she moved it into the names of her children.”
“But the trust can’t be used until the boys are both eighteen, I’m guessing.”
“That’s right. You’re smarter than you look.”
“You’re not a nice man.”
“Everybody knows that,” he assured me. “But the trust can be broken if…?”
He trailed off, so he wanted me to use my brain. “I’m tired.”
“I don’t care.”
I took a breath. “Oh. If the boys are kidnapped, the trust can be used to pay a ransom.”
“Ding, ding, ding.”
“That makes no sense, though. You should have seen the guys Vladek sent. There was no kidnapping going on. They could have had those boys out of this house before their parents got back, but they were fucking around.”
“What? Wait.”
He was quiet so long, I nearly nodded off.
“Okay, the idiots from earlier—because I’m looking at mug shots of some real losers here—they were there to scare Brad into working with Vladek.”
“Working?”
“Paying.”
“Ah.”
“I suspect Brad was waiting for money to come in from end-of-the-year investments in January, and would have paid Vladek the money he owes him then.”
Or from the profits from sales on Thomasin’s website of whatever she sold during her live stream later tonight. Either way, Brad would have made good on the loan. “But Vladek didn’t want to wait, so he sent goons to scare Brad into paying.”
“I think so, yeah,” Chris surmised.
I was wrong earlier. There weren’t only two possible scenarios. There were three, and this was it: a home invasion had been staged to terrify Brad when he saw how easily Vladek could put men in his home. They were supposed to get in and out, but Thomasin and Brad weren’t home, there were dogs outside making a racket, and everything had just gone to absolute shit once I showed up.
“But now you have a real problem,” Chris instructed me.
“Which is?”
“There’s an actual K and R contract out on the kids.”
“Which means Vladek’s not sending any more of his own guys. He’s outsourcing now.”
“Correct.”
Fuck. “When?”
“You’ve got a few hours. The contract went active about an hour ago, so it’ll take people time to get on planes. I don’t know anyone operating in the Pacific Northwest, so they’ll be coming in from California, Mexico, and the East Coast.”
“How much is the contract for?”
“Looks like either 500K or half of whatever Vladek gets from the boys’ trust fund.”
“So basically, the boys are really the only ones in play.”
“Yes.”
“Meaning Brad and Thomasin are disposable.”
“Yep. The trust will pay out through lawyers. Mom and Dad are not necessary.”
“Great.”
He was quiet a moment. “You have a choice here.”
“I know.”
“You can go legit, get in touch with your buddy Doyle, save everyone, but you run the risk of them splitting the family up to ensure their safety. Or, you can take help from the private sector.”
But I knew already because one way would have to go through law-abiding channels, while the other would be fast. I needed fast.
“If you could help me now, and then if I need a long-term fix, I’ll make that call.”
“Done. I’ll call you back in five,” he said and hung up.
Walking down the hall, I saw Toby in his room, packing two bags. It was impressive how he was rolling things and placing them into the duffels. I liked how well he took direction, and his follow-through was both excellent and appreciated.
I went down the stairs to the first landing and saw Thomasin rushing around, with Kurt following her, trying to talk to her, and Brad putting out platters of food. When I whistled, all three of them looked up at me.
“So I need you all to get up to your rooms and pack a bag because we are out of here in fifteen minutes.”
All three stared at me in shock, and then the balloon of silence burst and they were all yelling at once.
“Shut up!” I bellowed, and I could be loud. “Kurt,” I said, pointing at him. “You are coming with me whether you want to or not, and I’m taking the dogs, my cat, and the boys,” I announced, then, to Thomasin and Brad, “So if you want to fuckin’ be with your kids for Christmas, I suggest you pack. Now.”
“I don’t understand,” Kurt yelled at me.
I pointed at Brad. “To help Thomasin’s business, Brad borrowed money from the wrong fuckin’ people, and there is a contract for a kidnap and ransom on the boys that someone is coming to collect on.”
Silence again, which I didn’t hate.
“Toby is packing a bag for him and one for Dennis,” I told Thomasin. “You and Brad need to pack a bag each too. Imagine being gone a week. Bring whatever you want from under that tree, and I will get the dogs and the cat loaded up.”
They were all just staring at me.
“Now, people. Move now.”
And then there was running, which was good to see. I really did like it when people followed directions.
Chris called me back and asked me about my passengers. I knew why. He had to have a strategy in place and ensure provisions were made for each person and animal I had with me. Whatever was required, he would make arrangements for. He was always about plans and more plans. It was why he’d never been caught. He left absolutely nothing to chance, ever, not even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant item.
