Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(2)
“What the hell!” Becky exclaimed, taking the sucker back from Boss. She bit down on the lollipop and chewed viciously, taking out her shock and disbelief on the innocent candy.
“It’s true,” Boss insisted, pulling out a chair for his fiancée. “And we need to get to the bottom of it.”
“I’m not sure we’re going to like what we find once we get there,” Mac said in his slow Texas drawl, his bluebell-colored eyes narrowing, his brow furrowing as he flipped through the stapled papers in his hand. “This evidence could be pretty damning.”
The coffee in Vanessa’s stomach—which never sat well anyway, since most of the Knights preferred their java to have the general consistency of syrup—burned like battery acid. If any of them knew anything about damning evidence, it was Bryan “Mac” McMillan, former all-star FBI agent.
Hesitantly, she looked away from Mac’s worried gaze to peer down at the thin packet in her hand, her unease increasing as her eyes skimmed each postage stamp–sized photo and the brief blurb beside it. “All of them?” she croaked, glancing up at Boss in disbelief. “He’s supposed to have killed all of them?”
“Yep.” Boss nodded.
“But most of these deaths look accidental. A heart attack, a car accident, a drowning…Why are they pinning these on Rock?”
“Something about a tip on a PO box in Rock’s name that contained a bunch of files on these guys,” Boss said.
“And there are untold ways of making a murder look accidental,” Ozzie added.
“Here’s something interesting,” Mac observed, mouth thinned. “Each of these men was kidnapped at one point, and none held for ransom. They all just suddenly reappeared and went about their lives. The local law enforcement was never able to discover who’d held them.”
“Yeah,” Boss nodded. “I found that extremely odd as well. And since it’s the only clue we have to go on, I’m having Ozzie compare the dates of those kidnappings to see if any of them coincide with the times we knew Rock poofed out of BKI.”
“But why would he do this?” Vanessa realized what she said, shook her head, and rephrased. “I mean why are they saying he did it? Killing these men…What could possibly be his motivation?”
“Money?” Ozzie posited, frowning at his computer screens. “Says here, these men were all very wealthy. Having Rock eighty-six them might’ve proved extremely lucrative for some folks. You know, family members, rival business associates…”
“No way,” Vanessa jerked her chin from side-to-side, more convinced than ever this was all a giant smelly load of bullcrap. “Have you seen how he dresses? Do you think he’d go around wearing beat-up Levi’s, holey T-shirts, and scuffed-up alligator boots if he was sitting on a big pile of cash?” She pointed at the dossier with a finger she was disgusted to find was shaking. Hastily, she clenched her hand into a fist and hid it in her lap. Her number one rule since coming to work for BKI: show no fear. The Knights were all hardcore, hard-assed operators who didn’t so much as flinch when they were staring death in the face, and she didn’t want to find herself labeled the weak link. “Now if you told me it was Christian,” she continued doggedly, “I might believe you. No offense, Christian.” She made a face at the former SAS officer who, as usual, was sporting designer jeans and a cashmere sweater that probably cost more than most peoples’ monthly car payments.
“None taken, my dear,” Christian said, his smooth British accent a minor balm to her screaming nerves. “As it happens, I tend to agree with you. If Rock had, indeed, accumulated the level of wealth likely to come from performing hits on these men, why was he still messing about with us? Why wasn’t he sitting on a beach somewhere, soaking up the sun and ordering umbrella drinks from some bird in a bikini?”
Vanessa glanced around the table at the faces of the people she’d come to love like family. Their expressions gave her little comfort. It was obvious they were as confused and scared as she was, which—oh dear, sweet, baby Jesus—had the coffee/acid in her stomach burning its way up the back of her throat.
The Black Knights were not supposed to get scared. Hardcore, hard-assed operators who didn’t flinch while staring death in the face, remember?
She swallowed hastily and pushed ahead. The silence was deafening…and damning. She couldn’t stand it. “Well, one thing we know,” she grasped at the first straw to come to mind, “is he wasn’t working alone.”
“The phone calls.” Ozzie halted his typing. “He always got one of those strange phone calls right before he disappeared. Which means he had an accomplice in all this.”
“Accomplice? Wait a minute,” Becky interjected, yanking a new sucker from her mouth—this one was purple—to point it at Ozzie. “You’re making it sound like you think he’s guilty.”
“I’m not saying anything.” Ozzie held up his hands. “I’m just saying he was Mr. Mum on the subject of his second job, he did have the tendency to vanish at odd times, and he was working with someone and—” His laptop dinged, and his face drained of blood. Vanessa’s stomach dropped down to the floor in response.
Ozzie turned his computer around. On the screen were two columns. The first one showed the dates of the kidnappings. The second one showed the dates Rock had disappeared off the face of the planet.