Under Pressure (Body Armor #1)(60)

But this bullshit, jumping at someone’s beck and call, damn it, he should have been above that.

Platt stepped in flanked by two bodyguards. The protective detail wore faces void of compassion, flesh-and-blood robots ready to do the senator’s bidding, whatever it might be.

Murder, of course, was not off the table.

“Senator,” Webb said, taking one hand from the pocket of his coat and extending it.

Platt smiled as he accepted the greeting.

He was in his late sixties, his frame tall and thin, his accent Southern, his smile warm. Such a ruse.

The senator was a perverted son of a bitch, but no one knew that. Or rather, anyone who had learned it was later found dead.

None of that boded well for Webb, since not only was he aware of the senator’s proclivities, but his daughter knew what had happened on that cursed island.

“How are you, Webb?” As if a life wasn’t held in the balance, he put his arm over Webb’s shoulders and walked him a few steps away. “Tesh,” he said in his soft Southern drawl, “join us.”

Without a word, Tesh trailed them to the back of the stable. A horse shuffled, stomped the floor and whinnied. Another gave a soft nicker. The senator owned many horses.

He also owned many people. Webb didn’t want to be one of them, but how to extricate himself and still live?

With a measure of privacy between them and the bodyguards who stood at the entrance of the stables, they stopped.

Smile fading, pale eyes narrowing, Platt said with soft menace, “Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his mouth with a hand gnarled by arthritis. “You need to find out.”

The pleasantly implied “or else” made his muscles flinch.

Webb tried not to shift uneasily; Platt fed off fear. It was there in his eyes, watching for a sign, hoping for it. “I’ve done what I know to do.” The rest is up to you, Catalina. “You heard me on the phone with Body Armor. You were there, so you know I spoke to Sahara Silver herself. I insisted as much as I dared, but I don’t think she knows any more than I do.” Such a lie. “Even if she did, I can’t force her to tell me.”

“No,” Platt said, his condescension gentle. “I suppose a man of your limited means can only do so much.”

Limited means? Webb took the hit rather than attempt to refute it. Compared to Platt, he was a pauper.

“I have news,” Tesh announced.

Webb froze, not breathing, not moving.

“Two men went to Catalina’s house to check on things.”

“They found her?” Platt asked, lighting up with pleasure.

Webb waited in agony.

“No, sir. Sorry. She wasn’t there.”

As carefully and quietly as he could, Webb let out a tense breath. What men? He had his own crew keeping up with his daughter’s home, ensuring neighbors didn’t get suspicious by keeping her yard maintained, her bills paid. To anyone who had asked, they’d offered up the excuse that Catalina was away for a family emergency.

If the current catastrophe didn’t count, he didn’t know what would.

But he hadn’t sent anyone lately, and it was news to Platt, so who had sent them?

Tesh explained, saying, “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a look around.”

“We’d done that,” Platt said.

“Yeah, but in case she’d returned or anything, I wanted to know.”

“So you could bring her to me.” Platt nodded. “Ah, good. Go on. I sense there’s more.”

“The same man who sucker punched me also leveled them.” Tesh touched the bridge of his nose, maybe in remembered pain. “He punches like a fucking sledgehammer, and he’s fast.”

“He killed them?”

“That’s the really messed-up part. See, he stripped them down to their shorts, bound their hands and feet, and tossed them outside in the snow.”

Good God. Webb waited to see what the senator would do.

Staring at Tesh, Platt made a strangled sound that might have been a chortle. It came again, blossoming more and more until he laughed out loud. “Genius,” he crowed with pleasure. “Damn, I wish I could have seen the men. Did they die of exposure?”

Tesh shook his head. “Once they got loose, they jacked some old minivan. Had to drive home in their boxers. My understanding is that they have some frostbite, their wrists are stripped raw from fighting out of the restraints, but they’ll be okay.”

Still chuckling, Platt said, “Get rid of them.”

“Sir?”

“They’re obviously useless, except for a laugh.” He smiled. “I like this bodyguard you hired for your daughter, Webb. I really do. The man is inventive.”

“Apparently.” More so than Webb ever could have known.

Glancing at Tesh, Platt said, “Maybe it’s time we visited Ms. Silver. What do you think?”

“Consider it done.”

“Report back to me.” He patted Webb on the shoulder. “And see that our friend gets home safely. It wouldn’t do for anything to happen to him. He’s the most direct solution to our problem.”

The senator walked away, talking softly to the horses, pausing to stroke a few, before joining the armed detail and exiting the stable.