Treasured by Thursday (Weekday Brides Series Book 7) (31 page)

Wearing jeans—something he did on such a rare occasion that he had to hunt for an unopened box that had been sent from the high-rise condo he recently slept in—Hunter glanced around the secluded home of his father.

Tucked into the far suburbs of the Santa Clarita Valley, his father’s property wasn’t gated or secure in any way.

No one cared to notice.

There was a pickup in the drive, one Hunter had bought his dad a few years back. Beside it, a tiny sports car five years past its prime.

He pulled the key out of the ignition and lifted the collar on his jacket. Hiding under sunglasses and a baseball cap, Hunter jogged up the steps to his father’s home and didn’t bother to knock.

Hunter knew for a fact that a maid showed up every week to clean the place. Gardeners took care of the yard, and if the maid found the cupboards bare, she ordered groceries that were delivered.

Hunter might not care to spend time with his father, but he made sure the man had the basics.

He shed his cap and sunglasses the moment he closed the door. He pushed past the familiar hall and up the few short steps of the split-level home.

Standing in front of the sliding glass door was Noah, his back to him.

“I was starting to wonder if you were coming.”

Hunter looked around the room. “Where’s Dad?”

Noah didn’t turn from his perch, simply nodded behind him. “In the den. Probably out cold.”

Hunter tossed his keys, hat, and glasses on the table. He set the briefcase he brought with him down and left it.

He paused . . . as he’d been trying to do regardless of how difficult it felt.

How had he and his brother gotten to this point? How could they be as different as they were? Wasn’t there a time when they enjoyed each other? Would have blackened the eye of the other guy just for saying the wrong thing to their sibling? High school . . . it all changed in those formative years, and there was no going back.

Hunter moved to the front window of the house and looked out. When he was confident no one had parked themselves outside the drive, he moved back into the dining area where his brother stood.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” Hunter told him.

Noah’s laugh started out slow, then grew. “You never do, brother.”

“This time it’s not about me.”

Noah turned then. When they were younger, looking at his identical twin was routine, now he found the image of an animated version of himself eerie. “Since when?”

Pause . . . patience.

“Why are you doing this?” If Hunter was ever going to get answers, it was now.

Noah looked down Hunter’s frame. “Wearing a wire, Hunter?”

Hunter shrugged off his jacket and shed his shirt with one smooth scoop. “Do I need to take off my pants?”

Noah lifted an eyebrow. “Because I could,” he said. “Because you stopped taking my calls.”

“I cut you off! Something
he
needed to do years ago.” Hunter flung his hand behind him to indicate their father.

“You think you’re so much better than everyone. But you never saw this coming, did you?”

Hunter sucked in a slow breath. “No, I didn’t.” He glanced at the briefcase on the kitchen table. “How much?”

Noah ran a hand down his face and over his chin as he took in the case.

“What changed your mind?”

“Does it matter? You have what you want. Name your price, Noah.”

Noah placed his hand on the briefcase and Hunter slapped his over his brother’s.

Their eyes caught and didn’t let go. “My conditions.”

Noah eased his hand away.

“You leave here, retrieve Hayden, and meet my pilot.”

Noah gripped the back of a dining chair. “And where are we going?”

“Someplace safe.”

A flicker of humanity passed over his brother’s face. Had Hunter not been watching, he would have missed it.

“Safe?”

Hunter’s next words were slower than a turtle marching across the desert sand. “Your son’s life has been threatened . . . all in an effort to get to me. You take this money and your son and you both disappear. I’ll contact you when it’s safe to move on with your life.”

“And if I don’t agree?”

“Then you take this, give it to Sheila . . . split it . . . burn it for all I care, but Hayden comes with me. Today.”

To say Noah was stunned would have been an understatement. His jaw dropped, his eyes were tiny specks of confusion.

“You’re willing to take
my
son?”

Hunter made sure he articulated every syllable of his next words. “Hayden is already mine. I’m a week away from taking permanent custody, and neither you, nor Sheila, will see one penny.” It was a bluff. But Hunter had to try.

A weak smile started on Noah’s lips. “Always impatient. I don’t know how you managed to get so far in business when you show everyone your cards.”

Hunter slammed his hand on the table, causing everything on it to jump.

“My wife’s car was blown up yesterday, Noah. She escaped with her life by less than a minute. Someone out there with bigger balls than yours is willing to take out your son because you told the world he’s mine. Either you leave with him, now, or I take him and keep him safe. Make your choice and make it now! I don’t have any more time to fuck with you. Fair warning, Noah. If Hayden comes with me, he’s mine. You’ll never see him again.”

Noah turned white.

Hunter looked at his watch. “I have a car coming in five minutes.” He swept the car keys across the table until Noah had to catch them or watch them fall to the floor. “I have a bodyguard and a private investigator watching your son. Both are ready to take him on my call. What’s it going to be, Daddy?”

Noise from behind him had Hunter turning around. “What’s it going to be, Noah?”

Sherman Blackwell stood, scruffy faced and more than a little worn around the edges as he fixed his eyes on the two of them. How much of the conversation he’d heard, Hunter couldn’t say . . . but from the look in the older man’s eyes, it was enough to understand the severity of the situation.

Noah grasped the briefcase and opened it. Inside were stacks of hundreds . . . it paid to have business associates who owned casinos, where cash could be removed and IOUs given.

Noah took two stacks of bills, shoved them in his pocket, and closed the case. He tapped his hands alongside it and said, “For Sheila. I’ll keep her with me until I hear from you. If I leave her here, there’s no telling what she’ll do.”

With the briefcase in one hand, the keys to the Jeep in another, Noah stood.

“Go to John Wayne Airport. I’ll call my people.”

“Who’s Neil?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll be in touch.”

Noah hesitated as he passed their father, and then disappeared behind the door.

Sherman crossed the room, opened the fridge, and pulled a beer he didn’t need from the box. “What’s this about a wife?”

Chapter Thirty

Hunter finally pulled into the gates as the sun was setting.

Gabi was livid.

He stepped from the back of the car and opened his arms to all the activity. “What’s going on?”

With one hand on her hip, and anger in her words, she told him the only reasonable thing she could. “Chaos! Chaos I’m dealing with alone because you’re too busy to bother.”

“I had something to take care of.”

Gabi rolled her eyes and twisted away.

Neil and company had descended on her home like locusts. The garland around the door had been stripped away; the Christmas tree in the living room nearly decimated as they searched for God only knew what.

Neil . . . Lord only knew how Gwen put up with his quiet tight ass. The man offered nothing.

While a team looked over every strand of lights, every inch of garland . . . every decoration she’d had the staff place a few days before, Neil and a few others were inside poking in every nook and cranny of the house.

Before she could make it back inside, the man of the hour met them both out the front door.

“We found bugs that don’t belong to us.”

Gabi stood motionless.

Hunter wasn’t. “Where?”

“Inside the TVs. Audio for the guest room, the master bedroom . . . video with audio in the living room.”

The hair on Gabi’s arms stood up. “Someone has been listening to us? Watching us?”

Hunter was livid. “How did this happen?”

“Sophisticated equipment placed inside the televisions. The technology isn’t something I’ve seen before. My equipment didn’t pick it up. And my stuff picks up an out of place ant.”

Gabi grabbed Neil’s thick arm. “Do you think the deceased boy placed the bugs?”

“I think it’s a high probability. Obviously not for his gain since he ended up dead.”

“Can you trace the feeds?” Hunter asked.

“The transponder looks Internet enabled.”

“If we turn off our Internet, it will stop reporting feeds?”

“I’d need a lab to see if it holds its own hotspot.”

“So whoever is listening . . . watching . . . could be anywhere in the world?” Gabi asked.

“But close enough to rig your car and know when you come and go. No, my gut says whoever did this is physically close.”

Gabi pinched her eyes with her free hand. “What a nightmare.”

“We’ve removed the bugs and are searching for more.”

“Won’t the police want to know about the bugs?”

“I’ll tell them,” Neil said as he turned away. “Eventually.”

He moved back into the house, leaving Gabi and Hunter standing in the driveway.

“You should be resting,” he told her.

“And you should be here. I realize this marriage is a complete farce, but you could at least
pretend
to care.” She turned, not letting him reply. Instead of moving into the master bedroom full of bugs and men stripping the room, she detoured to the guest room that was void a television and slammed the door.

She flopped on the bed, instantly regretted the force with which she landed, and propped her broken arm on a pillow.

When her eyes started to leak, she told herself it was the pain in her arm causing it.

Hunter crossed the threshold behind Gabi. His feet faltered when he realized the magnitude of destruction Neil and his team had managed in search of bugs.

No wonder Gabi was so upset. She’d worked so hard to create a holiday on an empty canvas to have it all look like the Grinch showed up and took it all down.

Andrew met him in the living room. “These men are like bulls in a china shop.”

“I can see that.”

Hunter’s nose caught his attention and had him twisting around.

Laying on the kitchen island were drying racks and platters filled with cookies and sweet breads. His mouth watered and he licked his lips.

One of Neil’s workers swept a cookie from the counter and waved it in the air. “I’m addicted.”

“What’s all that?”

Andrew crossed to the kitchen and positioned a nutcracker that had been nudged out of place. “Seems Gabi bakes when she’s upset.”

“With one hand?” Hunter asked.

“She managed.”

He’d forgotten to eat lunch and approached the mini bakery with a growling stomach. He picked up something that looked like a tiny glazed breadstick sprinkled with sesame seeds and popped it in his mouth. “Oh, my God,” he muttered with a full mouth.

Someone behind him caught Andrew’s attention. “Hey, watch that.”

Andrew shot past him to keep one of the mini trees in the dining room from being toppled over.

Hunter’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen to see a text message from Remington.

Cargo is airborne
.

He placed his hands on the counter and slumped his head. His brother had done the right thing . . . well, he’d taken the money, but Hunter expected nothing less.

And Hayden was safe.

A strange empty space inside him opened up. He’d gotten used to the idea of a child in his life. Even if it wasn’t his son, Hunter was ready. He’d never held the child, nor had he seen him outside of a photograph, but the loss wasn’t mistakable. Hayden left a strange hole.

Neil’s men started to funnel out of the main living quarters of the house and into the backyard.

Andrew was righting the mess they left.

Hunter shrugged out of his jacket and joined him.

They worked together in silence.

The living and dining rooms were set. A decent dent had been made out of Gabi’s cooking before Neil’s men wound up their equipment and left.

Andrew called for a dinner delivery and Neil hung back.

“Have you heard from our guy?” Neil asked.

Hunter shook his head.

“You will. He won’t like his eyes and ears being taken away.”

“Are you sure they’re all gone?”

Neil offered one affirmative nod.

“What’s the next step?”

“We wait.”

The weight of the day started to pull Hunter down. “Like pawns on a chessboard.”

“This guy isn’t used to waiting. It won’t be long.”

Hunter was about to ask him what he meant when Rick popped his head into the room.

“We’re all set downstairs.”

“Downstairs?”

Neil turned away. “Follow me.”

They twisted down the steps and into the wine cellar that had yet to be stocked with anything but dust.

In the center of the room was a desk and four monitors. A man Hunter didn’t recognize sat with his back to them, a set of earphones on his head. He clicked a mouse, typed something in, and then realized they were standing there.

He pulled off the earphones and pushed the rolling chair away from the desk. “We’re all set,” he told Neil.

Hunter peered closer. The monitors were images sent from all parts of the house. Hallways, kitchen . . . living room. He saw the Christmas tree in full living color. The backyard was a set of shapes as if through some kind of night vision lens.

One of the security guards outside walked by a camera, and the lens followed him until he was out of the frame.

“Have you two met?” Neil asked Hunter as he pointed to the other man.

The other man extended a hand. “Dennis. I’ve been watching on the other side.”

“And now he’ll be watching from here.”

Hunter didn’t argue.

Dennis clicked a few buttons and the full-screen monitor switched to an office space . . . his downtown LA office space. “How the hell—”

“Floral delivery with a bug. Our bug.”

Hunter turned his eyes to Rick. The man was all smiles and a wink. “Comes in handy, trust me.”

“Is all this necessary?”

“Consider it DEFCON four. There’s one man dead. Gabi and Solomon nearly ate it yesterday, and we have yet to figure out when and where the bomb found its way under the car. Someone is willing to kill for a chunk of money,” Rick told him.

“I doubt he’ll come here to get it.”

“From the looks of the equipment we found, this guy isn’t stupid. He’s going to want leverage to ensure he gets the money he wants.”

“Leverage?”

“Collateral,” Rick said.

Hunter shivered. “You mean Gabi?”

“Or Hayden,” Rick said.

“Hayden is taken care of.”

It was Neil and Rick’s turn to offer looks of confusion. “He’s on a plane right now with his real parents. My brother will keep his head low until I tell him otherwise.”

“One less potential hostage,” Dennis said from the desk.

The word hostage wasn’t one Hunter wanted to hear, even if he knew that’s exactly what all this was about.

He pointed to a dark corner of one of the monitors. “What’s that one?”

“Reserved for your cars.” Dennis clicked, brought the image of the front seat of the town car, clicked again to view the front seat of his Maserati.

Lights from a car pulled into the frame of the front gate.

Dennis turned up the volume and they witnessed the surveillance together. Hunter didn’t recognize the new guard at the gate, but he spoke with the driver of the car.

Looked like their dinner had arrived.

The guard didn’t open the gate, simply paid for the meal through the bars, took the food, and thanked the delivery man before he took off.

Solomon retrieved the bags, said something about bringing the man back a plate, and then walked down the drive and into the house. Back inside, Andrew took plates from the cupboard.

Should I wake Mrs. B.?
Solomon asked from the monitored image.

Andrew looked past the other man before Dennis cut off the audio feed.

“I try my best to disconnect any private conversations. Can’t guarantee it,” Dennis said.

“Privacy will have to wait,” Hunter replied.

“I will click in and record every telephone call. It takes a few seconds to amplify the opposing conversation. If our guy calls, I need you to signal me and turn off any removable noise.”

“Wave and turn down the TV. Got it.”

Neil went on to point out that the bathrooms and walk-in closet weren’t monitored.

“Looks like you have everything covered.” And it did. It also helped to know that every man in the house, sans himself and Andrew, were armed. If this were to go on for any length of time, he’d rectify that, too.

Rick took his jacket off the back of the chair. “I’ll be back in the morning.” He nudged Dennis’s arm before pointing to the screen. “Chinese food sounds good. Hope Judy’s game.”

He took the stairs two at a time as he left.

Hunter walked Neil out at a slower pace.

Neil placed a hand on the top of his car as he opened the door. “My wife is going to want a report on Gabi.”

Hunter blew out a breath. “You’ve spent more time with her today than I have.”

“I noticed.”

He tucked his hands into his front pockets, leaned back, and studied his shoes. “Have you ever found yourself in a self-made hell and have no way of digging out without someone getting hurt?”

Neil cracked a smile. “I’ve been to war.”

“I’d do it all differently if I could, Neil.”
So differently.

Neil’s silence made Hunter look up.

“Would you take a bullet for her?”

“Yes!” There was no hesitation.

Neil extended his hand. “Barring any unexpected activity, I’ll be here tomorrow.”