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“Count them,” I say in a low whisper to Violet.

She nods as I back out of the driveway.

We drive along the main road, but we aren’t leaving this property until we get what we came for.

“Take a right,” she says quietly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her pull out her gun and shine the handle on her shirt.

“Not sure we’ll need that.”

“Shame.”

Violet’s a fucking good shot, and I know she wants an opportunity to use her skills and her new toy.

“An elderly minister has to be approached a certain way.”

She sighs. “I know. So I don’t get to see you beat anyone up today.”

I can’t help but smile, because I know she’s only half-joking. Every goddamn time I train with one of my men, she’s practically dragging me to bed afterward. It’s part of how she’s wired, and I love her for it.

“Nope. The way to get to someone like him is to really, truly determine what he’s afraid of. We need to know what he fears most so we can make him tell us the truth.”

“Perhaps he’s afraid of heights,” she says in a bored tone before she makes a sound of disgust. “So plebeian.”

“Or spiders.”

She rolls her eyes. “Cliché.”

“Or maybe….” her voice trails off as she taps her chin thoughtfully. “Let’s think about this. What would a wealthy man who preaches from the Bible fear above all else?”

“Slander to his reputation. Losing all his money.”

“Precisely. Oh, Cain! There!” She points to a rusty gate that leads to the back of Descamps’s property. I pull the truck over to the side of the road, leaves crunching beneath the heavy tires.

“Perfect. Good eye, baby.”

In minutes, she’s disassembled the lock. She faces me with a look of triumph. “Ready?”

Before we go, I reach down and loop my fingers along the nape of her neck, pull her head back, and capture her mouth with mine. “I’m ready, baby. Let’s do it.”

For all his riches, Descamps has gotten lax when it comes to security. My property’s heavily guarded, with video surveillance. We don’t have so much as a squirrel that crosses the perimeter of my home without our knowledge. Descamps, however, is either lazy or stupid.

The gate leads to the back of his property, everything so overgrown here there’s not a chance security would see anything even if they had cameras positioned here. No guard dogs, no armed men. Nothing.

“Wow,” Violet says. “Bet you’re about to burst a blood vessel imagining how shitty his security is.”

I snort. “I’d burst a blood vessel if it were my home so easily compromised. With him, I’m more than happy to make myself at home.”

“Agreed.”

It’s difficult to walk quietly through a wooded area in the fall, as crunchy leaves and branches snap with every step we take. But the wind rustles the leaves, masking the noise we make, and by the time we get to a clearing, thunder rolls overhead.

“What do you see?” I ask her. I’m your man for brute force, but when it comes to hawk-eye vision and strategy, Violet’s unparalleled.

“He’s got a barn to the right that looks neglected. Roof’s seen better days, hay bales sloppy and unkempt. That’s where the pool used to be, and a… hot tub? There’s a pool house, too.”

“Any entrances from the back?”

“Lots. Looks like there’s a door by the pool house which leads to a back entrance, as well as a bulkhead, and there’s an actual open door on the property as well.”

“Let’s try the pool house.” It’s chilly enough this time of year, that part of the house likely doesn’t get much use.

“Let’s do it.”

We move as one, silently and quickly, as several yards of bare ground before us leaves us uncovered and more likely to be seen. In less than a minute, we’ve made it past the pool house and to the door that leads us into his home.

“Locked?”

Violet frowns at the digital lock on the door while I ring Henri.

“Boss?”

I quickly whisper what I need and send him a picture of the lock. He has data on how to unlock everything from a padlock to a jammed door, and quickly finds not only the year, make, and model of this lock, but succinct directions on how to disable it.

“Let me do it?” Violet asks.

I nod and step back. She’s small and lithe, so she easily maneuvers her way into situations just like this.

“Told you it’d come in handy having someone small like me on your staff.”

“You did.”

“And was I right?”

I hold her slender hips with my hands. “You were. I could pick you right up and tuck you into my pocket.”

“Cain. Your timing sucks.” Then she quickly nods her head. “I know, I know, I agreed. Now please, let me focus before I lose my concentration here. You and I could take the six security men he’s got that I counted, but I’d rather not break a sweat while we’re here.” She frowns. “I don’t want to have to wash my hair again.” It’s adorable what crosses her mind sometimes.


Tags: Jane Henry Master's Protege Suspense