Retribution (Secrets & Lies #3)(55)



“Got it,” the Major says, and I know him, he's writing all this down as soon as it comes out of my mouth. “Isis' accomplice?”

“I don't know, he was wearing a ski mask and driving. The car had a Porsche badge, but was a subcompact SUV, electric blue with black trim on the wheel wells. Never seen it before, maybe a custom job? Temp tag on it still, couldn't make out the numbers or state through the back window, the tint was too dark.”

The Major grunts, and my ears perk up. “I know about that car. It's a Porsche Macan, they just released it in the United States within the past couple of years. Guess who bought one recently just like you described.”

“Peter DeLaCoeur,” I growl, fear striking my heart. “He was the driver.”

“Most likely,” the Major says, but he sounds happier about it than I would have suspected. “The good part about that, Sergeant, is that my team's had eyes on that car before, and we've been trying to find out everything we can about it. The team's been thinking it was Peter's one weak point. We can't find his f*cking house yet, we think he's being mobile there or else he's living way out of town. But that car is his one vanity point he's keeping. Best of all, it's tricked out.”

“What do you mean?”

The Major hums, and I hear papers shuffling. “I mean the f*cking thing was purchased with an electronic logbook which records distance traveled, fuel consumption, routes taken, starting and destination points, all of which can be wirelessly uploaded to your home computer. We'd been working on hacking the systems, but I think you know someone who can do that better than my team.”

“Goddamn right,” I growl, a small smile coming to my voice. “Okay, e-mail the specs to me, I'll pass them along. In the meantime, I want the team tearing apart every f*cking crime den, crack house, whore house and whatever other house they can think of to find out where Peter might be taking Melissa. We suspect she's being kept as live bait to draw the rest of us out.”

“Understood, Sergeant. If I can ask, are you still able to be professional on this?” Major Munchak asks, concerned. “Can you handle it, Nathan?”

“You find him, everyone gets paid, even if I’m the one who puts a bullet in Peter and Isis. We get her back safe, I personally guarantee bonuses to everyone. As for professional, Major... no. She is my f*cking heart and life.”

“Understood. Let me contact the team now, see what we can do. I'll see if I can call in some other assets, on me. There's business, and then there's brotherhood. I can't guarantee anything though, our timeline might be too tight. I'll be in touch.”

The major hangs up, and I sag for the first time. Hope and despair swirls around my head, I want to put faith in the people we have working on this, but at the same time I can't help but feel like it's going to be like Aisha again, never finding a body, just knowing that she's gone.

“The bags are ready,” Andrea says gently, coming into the kitchen and seeing me. “Jackson's with the guns, Carson's already left.”

“Tell Katrina to check my e-mail, the Major's forwarding some tech specs on the car that Peter's driving. It may have been Peter himself who was the getaway driver. There may be some hackable electronics on the car, something we can track. Also, have her send him a picture of Melissa.”

Andrea disappears for a moment, then comes back in. “She's looking it over now. Nathan...”

“I f*cked up, Andi,” I whisper, staring at the granite countertop of the kitchen, the same type of granite Melissa made our pendants out of, the same type of granite that may have led Isis to focus on this area. Eighteen hours, it could have been enough to track us down and get up here. “I f*cked up, and I put her in danger.”

“I f*cked up, I should have protected her.”

“You did everything you could,” Andrea says gently, coming over and patting my back. “Carson's anger is fading, and I remember what you did in that parking lot. Do you? That shot went off, and the first thing you did was you put yourself between me and the sound of the shot. Even before you saw Isis, you knew where the shot came from and you protected me. And you did the best you could have. Who would have thought that Melissa would have run out of the clinic at the gun shots? The Melissa we met six months ago would have fallen on the ground in a panic attack and never left the building.”

“She's gotten so strong,” I whisper, wiping at my eyes.

“I know,” Andrea says, and I see that she's crying. “And we will get her back. I promise you, Nathan. I want my sister back just as much as you want your wife.”

“Not yet. That was going to be tomorrow, remember?” I ask, and Andrea nods. “You too.”

“Which is why those bags you asked, I did put one together for me. Not tactical, but I packed those pendants. When we get her back, we'll still have our ceremony. I promise you Nathan, we'll get her back.”

I hug her, providing as much comfort as I can. For years, I mentored her from a distance. Now, for the past six months, I've felt like she's become the daughter I've never had, and I hold her close. When her tears finally stop, I look down at her, and let her know my heart. “I love you, musumechan.”

She smiles, and hugs me back. “I love you, otoosan. When did you learn Japanese?”

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