Nine

Livingston Shaw glared at Michael from across the gleaming expanse of his polished desk. “Are you certain that it was one of Reyes’s men that took the Maddox boy?” Shaw said, somehow managing to make him feel as if he were personally responsible for the abduction of the Senator’s grandson.

Michael stared at the spot directly above Shaw’s head—his favorite—and took a deep breath before answering. “Yes. I recognize the tattoo on his neck from the surveillance footage.” All of Reyes’s men were branded with the same tattoo, a common practice within the cartels. He’d decided to keep the rest—that not only was it one of Reyes’s men but his son—to himself. The scar was unique to Estefan; the tattoo wasn’t. If Ben objected to him lying to his father, he didn’t say a word. Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that he was currently sleeping on his father’s sofa.

“Reyes is based in Colombia. He’s a little far from home, isn’t he?” Lark said, from his position beside Shaw’s chair.

Michael made himself look at Lark. “Trust me, he’s here,” he said, thinking of his run-in with Estefan a few nights ago. “He’s been pushing his way into Cordova’s territory for a while now.”

“You think this has something to do with the Cordova op?” Shaw said, his interest obviously piqued.

The thought turned Michael’s stomach. Knowing that he’d had a part in making such a thing possible tightened his jaw. “He’s had his eye on Cordova’s trafficking operation for a while now.”

Shaw arched an eyebrow. “And you know this because … ?”

Michael shrugged. “Because I’ve had my eye on him.”

“So why didn’t you make the connection sooner?” Lark said. Another accusation.

Michael shot his former partner a warning look. He had to take Shaw’s shit but not Lark’s.

“I think you’re missing the point my partner’s trying to make here, Jolly Green.” They both turned to find Ben still stretched out on the couch behind them, eyes still closed. He cracked a lid and aimed one sky-blue eye at his father. “Reyes is behind the snatch and grab of Leon Maddox’s grandkid.” Ben smiled. “Which means we might have a chance of getting him back.”

“Okay, fine. Reyes has a daughter, right?” Lark shrugged. “I say we snatch her and demand a trade.”

“No,” Michael said.

“Why? Easiest way to—”

“I said no.” His tone closed the subject.

Lark tipped his head back and let out a loud crack of laughter. “You slay me, man. Really? Like you’re some kinda saint. You killed more people than cancer and you get twisted over one little kidnapping?” He shook his head. “What the fuck did that crazy cop bitch do to you?”

Michael’s heart stopped. Time slowed to a crawl. His stomach clenched like he’d been kicked in the gut. He looked at Shaw and saw he was watching the exchange with avid interest—and not one ounce of bewilderment.

He was suddenly sure that Lark had told Livingston Shaw everything there was to know about Sabrina. Who she was. How he knew her. That she mattered. Shaw’s knowledge of her made her a tool to be used against him or, worse, a liability to FSS.

In the space of a second, he weighed his options and decided on a course of action. He’d have to be fast. Take Shaw out first. Two to the head, then—

“Hey.”

He turned to see Ben standing in front of him.

“Probably not a good idea.” Ben tipped his chin down and he followed with his eyes to find his Kimber gripped in his fist, finger on the trigger. He didn’t even remember pulling it.

He shot Lark a look over the kid’s shoulder before looking back to Shaw. He sat leaning back in his chair with a wry smirk on his face, cell phone in hand, finger poised to dial. Michael remembered the capsule in his back and holstered his gun. He was good to no one dead. The need to find Leo Maddox had just been suddenly and precisely balanced by his need to warn Sabrina that she was no longer safe—and probably never had been.

“Well … that was awkward,” Ben said to no one in particular, careful to keep himself between Michael and Lark.

Michael ignored him and focused on what had to be done now. He looked at Shaw. “We need to get stateside, interview the family. There could be things the mother saw that she’s not even aware of. We need to question her and the kid’s nanny. Whoever had access to him over the past few weeks. There’s a good chance Reyes had inside help.”

Shaw seemed to be weighing his words, testing their validity before making up his mind. He shook his head. “You still have business here to attend to. Cordova is scheduled to arrive—”

“We’ll leave as soon as it’s done.” Michael was getting himself stateside, one way or another.

Shaw smiled. “Very well, Michael. The family is convalescing at Leon’s estate, just outside Helena. I’ll alert him that you and your team will be arriving shortly.”

Team? He didn’t have a team. He had Ben. He shook his head. “I don’t need Pips—I mean, a team—sir. Ben and I work best alone.”

Shaw’s smile faded. “Of that I’m certain, but I’m not sending a security detail, Michael. I’m sending Mr. Lark. He’s going with you.”