Reaching out, I run a finger over the edge and have a sinking feeling that maybe I’ve not given my dad enough credit over the years. I always thought he was more into himself than others, but maybe I was wrong.
Blinking, I focus on the task at hand and dial Bebe.
She answers on the first ring. “Are you okay?”
“We’re safe,” I reply, settling back into the chair. I then fill her in on everything and where we are currently. “I need to know if police responded to the gunshot at Jess’s house.”
“Hold on,” Bebe says, and I hear her clacking away on the keyboard. My heart drops when she says, “Yes. A neighbor called 9-1-1 after hearing it. He identified a dark SUV leaving the scene and two men—one bleeding—leaving in a silver sedan. Looks like police responded and interviewed the neighbor. No mention of Jessica, though.”
“That’s something positive,” I mutter, rubbing my hand over my bald head, then dropping it to my neck to massage away the tension.
“You really shot the guy in the shin?” Bebe asks.
“I didn’t want to kill him.” My tone is defensive.
She laughs. “No, it’s just… you’ve gotten really good with weapons. I’m impressed. Maybe you should be a field agent.”
“Never,” I growl in horror. “A desk job is where it’s at. This shit is too stressful.”
“Which is why you should all come here and let us handle the protection.”
It’s exactly the conclusion I’d come to the minute I saw those two Russians walking toward me. Staying in Miami was only giving Borovsky home-field advantage with unlimited resources within his syndicate.
“We’ll head out in the morning,” I advise her. “I’ll have Jess’s mom, Claire, with us too. I can’t leave her behind as they’ll make a play for her to get to Jess.”
“What about her dad?” Bebe asks.
“He lives in Georgia. Been there several years now. I’ll give him a heads-up and offer for him and his wife to come up to Pittsburgh, but I doubt he will. He’s retired army, and I’m sure he thinks he can take care of himself.”
“What’s your play?” she asks.
“I was going to ask you the same question.”
“I could input variables into BOB and see what it spits out,” she suggests. BOB is an AI program I created to help us make planning decisions for our missions. It lets us put in factors and then compares the details to past cases and other variables to predict best-case scenarios.
“I don’t think BOB is going to tell me what I don’t already know.”
Bebe finishes my thought for me. “That the safest place you could be right now is within the walls of Jameson and to let the police do their work.”
It’s the safest thing to do. The top floor of Jameson has apartments, three of which are available right now. Jess, her mom, and Thea can stay in one, and I could stay in another to be close by.
“I’m assuming you’ve filled Kynan in?” I ask.
Bebe proceeds to update me on everything on their end. She not only looped in Kynan, our esteemed leader of Jameson Force Security, but she sent out an agency-wide memo of what was going on. When something happens to one of our own, we all circle the wagons. And while this wasn’t technically happening to me, I’m sure Bebe made it perfectly clear that Jess is someone very important.
Of course, I’m sure people came to their own conclusions by the way I flew out of there like a bat out of hell to get to Miami. My stomach rolls slightly when I realize I made it in the nick of time.
I’m only just understanding that, and it feels like I’ve been sucker punched in the gut. “Fuck… Borovsky’s men were minutes away from grabbing Jess.”
Bebe’s voice is soft with understanding. “But she’s safe and they didn’t get her. You have the upper hand now.”
I have to believe that. Losing Jess, and potentially Thea and Claire, from the shrapnel of this revenge plot is more than I can bear.
“I did some research on this Ivan Borovsky,” Bebe says with a hint of disgust. “He murdered four people, two of whom were children.”
“I’m quite sure those aren’t the only murders to his name.”
“So explain to me in detail why he is so gung-ho to get Jessica.”
“It’s a saga, for sure.” I glance out at the water and the boat tied at the dock. What I wouldn’t give to get on it and sail away with Jessica, Claire, and Thea, and leave all these worries behind. “After Chase died, Jessica obviously concentrated her efforts on Thea and her job. By that time, she was working as an art instructor in an underprivileged community rec program in Miami. But she met this guy—went by Alex Smith, and he was some type of businessman. It wasn’t serious for her, and after a few months of dating, he sort of became obsessive. Wouldn’t let her go out with friends, would get angry if she didn’t spend all her free time with him. She was trying to figure out a good way to end things when she stumbled upon something.”