Deadly Game (Fortress Security #5)(51)

“Tell me you weren’t near him when he went down.”

“Sorry.”

His fellow SEAL growled. “Are you still on scene?”

“Rowan is with me.” That statement told Taylor Brent had left to protect Rowan.

“What happened?”

Brent brought him up to speed on his conversation with White. “Just before we left, White came out of the house with two suitcases. The shooter dropped him on the front steps with one shot from across the street, probably the tree line to the north. That’s the best line of sight for the shooter.”

“I’ll check it out. I hope you didn’t touch anything in the house,” Taylor muttered.

“You don’t have to worry about my prints or Rowan’s. Someone most likely noticed the SUV or caught the plate.” Brent leaving in such a hurry was bound to capture attention as well. Made him look guilty.

“I know. Expect an official call from me when I ‘discover’ your visit.”

“Copy that. You know how to reach me.”

“Boss, watch your back.” Taylor ended the call.

“These people aren’t messing around, are they?” Rowan’s voice shook. “They’ve killed three men and my sister. Who else is next? People like that wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Alexa when she becomes too much of a problem.”

“If they hurt her, they won’t get what they want from you, baby. Keeping Alexa alive serves a purpose.” How long that tolerance would last Brent didn’t know. He hoped to have a location on Alexa before the deadline and before the kidnappers’ patience ran out. His people were the best in the business, especially Zane. If anyone could find clues to the child’s whereabouts online, it was Z.

He turned squares for ten minutes, keeping an eye on his mirrors. No one appeared to be following them. Excellent. Still taking back roads where a tail would stand out, Brent headed for the feds’ hotel.

While he drove, he called to Zane and updated him on the latest development.

“Unbelievable,” Zane said. “Maxwell and his friends got themselves in too deep. I’ll check into their emails and backgrounds.”

“Copy that.” Brent glanced at Rowan, hoping she wouldn’t mind his next order. “Put a tracer on Rowan’s phone as well as Heather Maxwell’s. The kidnappers called Rowan on her sister’s cell phone.”

“I’ll set it up. I’ll be in touch soon.”

“A tracer? Zane is going to trace the calls to and from my phone?” Rowan asked after Zane ended the phone call.

“The trace will initiate automatically when a call goes through. Hopefully, the kidnappers will stay on the phone long enough for Z to find a location.”

Twenty minutes later, he parked in the lot of a chain hotel. The parking lot was nearly full though no people were milling around the area. All was quiet on this chilly evening.

Rowan scanned the area. “We’re late, you know. How mad will the FBI agents be?”

“Doesn’t matter. They want to talk to you whether you’re late or not.” He wouldn’t apologizing for taking so many detours on the way to the hotel. He’d rather be late than lead a follower here. Although he wasn’t a fan of feds as a rule, Brent wouldn’t risk their lives by carelessness on his part. If the kidnappers were watching and connected this place with the feds, Alexa might pay the price. That was something he couldn’t live with.

He escorted Rowan to the fifth floor and knocked on the door to room 531.

A moment later, Rafe Torres flung open the door. His eyes widened when he recognized Brent. “Commander Maddox, what are you doing here?”

“May we come in, Senior Chief?”

“Of course, sir.” Torres stepped back. “How have you been, Commander?”

“It’s Maddox or Brent, now. I started a security company five years ago. Keeps me busy.”

“Which company?”

“Fortress Security.”

An older man with steel gray buzz cut hair set aside his laptop and stood, a sneer on his face. “One of those private security company’s? Guess you couldn’t find a real job.”

“Shut up, Hank,” Torres snapped. “I served with Maddox in the Navy. He could have landed any job he wanted, including the FBI. I heard through the grapevine he turned down a job offer from us.”

Hank’s eyes narrowed. “That true?”

“It is.” Brent’s lips curled. “Didn’t want to be tied down with a rule book the size of a dictionary.”

“Why are you here, Commander?” Torres asked again. “We expected Ms. Scott to come alone.”

“You want to question my girlfriend about the death of her sister.” He didn’t look at Rowan to see if she objected to his blatant claiming of her as belonging to him. When she didn’t refute his words, the tension in his shoulders dissipated. Did she feel the same way about him? She’d told White that he was her boyfriend, but she might be protecting his identity. Rowan was intuitive enough to realize he couldn’t have his life story shared for public consumption. In White’s case, it no longer mattered. He wouldn’t be telling anyone anything.

Torres held out his hand to Rowan. “Rafe Torres. This is my partner, Hank Crenshaw. Thank you for meeting with us.”