I love my sister-in-law, but the last thing I needed was more reasons for Scarlett to insist I stay home. Scarlett looked up at me, panic bright in her green eyes. I put a finger over her lips before she could speak.
"Nope. I'm still coming." Her eyes narrowed. "And every minute you spend arguing is another minute between us and Thatcher."
That got Scarlett moving. She turned and bolted for the door. I followed until Griffen stopped me.
"Take my SUV. Keys are on the board by the garage door. I'll get our stuff out while you're packing."
I shook my head. "I can't. What if you need to go somewhere? That thing is a tank. You—"
"I'll play chauffeur while you're gone," Hawk interrupted without looking up from his phone. "No one's getting assassinated on my watch. Now, get the hell out of here before you lose the day."
"Thanks," I said to Griffen as I headed for the door. "See you all in two days."
Hawk followed me out of the room, jogging ahead of me up the stairs. He beat me to my suite and strode through the open door. "Did you touch the bag?" he demanded as Scarlett came out of the bathroom with a cosmetic case in her hands.
"No, not yet." She set the case on the bed next to a small pile of clothes. "I need to use it, though. Can you—?"
While I grabbed enough clothes and the rest for a few days along with my 9mm and a taser I never used but kept charged anyway, Hawk went through Scarlett's bag, carefully extracting a necklace, a small porcelain figurine, and a rolled-up watercolor. Scarlett winced at the half-assed way the watercolor had been stored.
"Asshole," she breathed as she took the bag from Hawk. We shoved our things inside and finished packing. "Does Savannah know we're leaving? Does she mind keeping August? We can't take him—"
"She knows," Hawk answered. "The boys are down there getting ready for lunch. You have just enough time for a quick goodbye. Try to chill out so you don't scare the hell out of him."
Hawk left with Bryce's stolen art in his hands. Scarlett turned and headed back to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face and pulling her hair into a neat ponytail. "Better?"
Her eyes were still strained, but August wouldn't be able to tell she'd been on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "Gorgeous," I said honestly. "Now, let's get out of here."
I was behind the wheel of Griffen's massive SUV less than ten minutes later, the GPS set for Winchester, Kentucky.
"Why are we in Griffen's car?" Scarlett asked, twisting in the seat to take in the oversize vehicle. As these things went, it was pretty luxurious, but it wasn't as nice as Griffen could afford. Not at first glance.
"This thing is a tank. Almost literally. It's the same model they use at Sinclair Security. A rocket launcher could probably take us out, but anything less and we can run right over it."
"Really? Like bulletproof glass?" Scarlett rapped her knuckles on the normal-looking window.
"Bulletproof everything. Puncture-proof tires. And I hope it doesn't come to that, but I'm a better-than-average shot." At Scarlett's raised eyebrows, I said, "Family hobby. Probably the only thing any of us ever enjoyed doing with our father."
"Do I want to know why Griffen has a tank for a car?"
"That's a long story." I turned onto the main road, starting the clock on my absence from Heartstone Manor. Scarlett's ankle monitor gave a long beep as we crossed the property line.
"I half expected it to shock me." She stretched out her leg, studying the black band around her ankle. "I kind of forgot it was there. I'm not crazy about looking like I'm under house arrest, but it's kind of comforting knowing Hawk can track us considering."
I knew what she meant. I didn't love the idea of being tracked either, normally, but we didn't know what we'd be walking into when we found Thatcher. It wouldn't hurt to have eyes on us from a distance.
"So, tell me the long story about Griffen's tank." Scarlett pulled her leg back and relaxed into the leather seat.
"I'll tell you the whole story after I make one more phone call." This one wasn't going to go well. Tapping my phone screen with my thumb, I pulled up West's number.
He answered on the second ring. "What now?" he growled.
I almost felt bad for what I was about to do. I gave it to him fast. "Scarlett and I are headed out of town to get her son from her ex. They have a situation. It's complicated, but it doesn't have anything to do with Vanessa. We'll be back by Friday night."
"How the hell do you know it doesn't have anything to do with Vanessa? When did you become a cop?"