Page 32 of Dirty Dealers

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My hand falls open on the wood floor at my side and the ring of keys tumbles onto the floor with a clink. In that moment, an idea cuts through my desperate mind. A solution. A way out of this nightmare.

The only question is when. The answer…

Tonight.

Debts

Logan

We’re in the war room, that damn letter is in the middle of the table, and the four of us—Rowan, Sir Reginald Winchester (his great uncle), Freddie (his second in command after me), and me. We’re the same team that brought Zelda home last year, minus only one member, Rowan’s younger brother Cal.

“I’m glad to see we all appear well-rested and ready to meet this new challenge,” Reggie says in his usual, superior tone.

“You look better, Logan,” the king says, giving me a nod. “I hope this means you were able to regroup while we were away.”

Discussing my private life is something I don’t do. “It took me a day or two to relax, then I… found something I thought I’d lost.”

Rowan’s brow rises, and he smiles. “Good work. Now to get our minds back on the current situation.”

“What’s the latest news,” I take my seat and frown at the offending missive.

“My spies have reason to believe Blix Ratcliffe returned to Monagasco last week,” Reggie starts. His words make my scalp tighten. “We have verified proof he left the Caribbean, and a few strategically placed moles followed him from the market yesterday.”

“But we’ve only just returned.” The surprise in Rowan’s voice echoes my response. “How did he get into the city?”

“He’s modified his appearance somewhat,” Freddie answers, taking two glossy photos from the manila folder beside his laptop. “Our trackers captured these images, which we blew up. Charting the structure of his bones, the color of his eyes, we’ve established a positive ID.”

I lift them and study his face. It’s true. The dead blue eyes are the same. “His hair is dark,” I note.

“It helps him blend in with the locals,” Freddie says, pointing to the next one. “He’s added a prosthetic to his chin.”

“I actually think this a good sign,” Reggie interjects, drawing our attention.

“In what way?” the king demands.

“If he’d known you were in Tortola, he wouldn’t be here.” The grand duke leans back in his chair, stretching his legs. “It would’ve been far easier to make a move on the family there, where protection is less… organized.”

He nods toward Freddie’s workstation just as our partner slides another printout across the space. “They followed him to this condo building, but it’s unclear if he’s staying there or if he was making contact with one of his associates.”

“He has associates in the city as well?” My eyes flick to Freddie’s, and all I can think is who might have been following me these last few days. I hadn’t even considered covering my tracks.

“It’s fair to assume someone like him never acts, or travels alone,” Freddie says.

Reggie cuts in, sounding bored. “Of course he has associates. What do you have so far?”

Freddie pulls up faces on his laptop. “I’ve circulated photographs of all the men involved in the kidnapping of Zelda who are still at large.”

Blix’s head, with his now-dark hair and cold blue eyes is first on the screen. Next, is the giant gorilla-man with hands the size of dinner plates.

“He’ll be difficult to hide,” I note.

“I’m not sure he’s trying to,” Freddie muses, pulling up another photo of a man I don’t recognize. “This is one of the two new associates our trackers were able to photograph.”

Rowan steps forward. “New ones?”

The new man is lean with medium brown hair. He’s average height and could easily blend into a crowd. His only distinguishing characteristic is the ink rising out of his collar along his neck. Still, his hands are fisted, and from his side-glance and the set of his jaw, I can see he’s a cruel motherfucker.

“We believe his name is Taz,” Freddie continues. “He appeared on our radar with the body in Miami. Police found his fingerprints at the victim’s house and at the warehouse where they recovered it.”


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