Stavros swore when the connection to Savannah’s laptop abruptly stopped, but not before he heard her talking with Stefan Carlisle. He cursed the day he’d heard that bastard’s name, because Carlisle had been as culpable in Danny’s destruction as Ranger Boudreau.
Oh, the plans he had for that interfering son of a bitch and his wife. The pain they’d endure would be exquisite. He’d promised Danny vengeance. And he’d deliver tenfold. No one involved in the cold-blooded murder of his son would survive unscathed.
He flung his computer onto the desk, hard enough it skidded off, and landed on the hardwood floor with a loud clunk. Didn’t matter. If it was ruined, he’d buy another.
What did matter was the witch needed to be brought down a notch. The few scare tactics he’d employed thus far had been entertaining, but they hadn’t struck at her deepest fear.
Finding information had never been his strongest ability—that’s what he paid others to do. Utilizing that procured information, now that he had a talent for, and no qualms about who got hurt in the process.
Fortunately, he still had considerable wealth and enough assets left over from before he’d been forced into exile, and a knack for locating people on the wrong side of the law willing and able to do his bidding, if the price was right.
Picking up his cell phone, he dialed a programmed number, which was answered on the first ring. He smiled. Instilling a little fear in your employees yielded the best results he’d always found.
“Is he here?”
“Yes, sir,” was the response from his latest hired bodyguard, a thug from the old New Orleans neighborhood who’d sold his soul and loyalty to Stavros long ago in return for a taste of what money could buy. Now Stavros owned him.
“Send him in.”
Leaning back, he watched as a young man, barely older than a teenager, entered with his computer case clutched to his chest. Eyes wide with fear, the whites showed all around the dark brown pupil. Excellent. A man in terror for his life always did his best work—because the consequences were unthinkable.
He smiled at the panicked expression on the boy’s face, heard his breath huffing in and out. It reminded him of a frightened stallion, fearful of the whip grasped firmly in his master’s hand. And Stavros was definitely the master here.
“Do you have the information I requested?”
“Yes, sir,” the boy managed to stutter out in a high-pitched squeak.
Stavros gave an exasperated sigh. “Well, what are you waiting for? Give it to me.”
Racing forward, the kid thrust the entire laptop case at him. He rolled his eyes, glancing heavenward. Had he really considered this idiot worth what he was paying him?
“I don’t want your computer, imbecile, I want the printed reports.”
“Oh—yes, of course, sir.” Unzipping the case, he pulled out a file folder and passed it over. “This is everything I could find.”
Opening the file folder, Stavros scanned the first page, and a tingle of delight bubbled within him. Ah, yes, this was exactly what he needed. In fact—it was perfect.
“Excellent work. That’ll be all.” Giving a wave of dismissal, he turned back to the folder.
“Umm, what about my money?”
“What?” Stavros looked at the kid, standing there practically vibrating with fear, yet desperate enough to demand his due. He’d planned on having him disposed of after turning over his findings but looking at all the information he’d been able to dig up in such a short amount of time, the kid might actually be useful.
“Hector will have your money on the way out.” With that, he ignored him, turning his attention back to the file.
“Thank you, sir. A pleasure…doing business with…you.” The stutter was back, but Stavros let it slide. He’d break the kid of that habit later.
Delving deeper into the pages, he found precisely what he needed, and his chuckle turned into a deep rolling laugh. Looked like Stefan Carlisle hadn’t always been the Boy Scout he was now.
Oh, this was too perfect. He pulled a courier envelope out of his desk, shoved the papers inside, but didn’t seal it. Not yet. This time he planned to personalize his gift. He’d leave Savannah with no doubt Stavros Aristides was alive and coming for her. Because there was no way in hell he’d allow her to testify against him—he’d get the death penalty or life in prison. Unacceptable.
Too bad Carlisle had killed the camera in her computer. He’d love to see her face when she got his latest present.
It was a killer.