What Are You Afraid Of? (The Agency #2)(107)

Although they’d already spoken with the cops, as well as given their statements to Nikki at the FBI, he wasn’t taking any chances.

Ronnie and Baylor, along with their Kill Club, might be dead, but that didn’t mean the danger was completely over. He wasn’t going to take any chances. Besides, he still had one task to complete before he could whisk Carmen back to California.

Brushing a kiss over Carmen’s lips as she directed the movers who were loading the furniture and the boxes she’d neatly packed, he’d promised he would be back by the end of the day and driven away from the farm.

He ignored the speed limit and arrived at the Jacobs Hardware headquarters in Louisville before lunch. Leaving the SUV in a loading zone, he strolled through the entrance, then headed toward the private elevator. He’d already hacked into the security system, which meant he could use his own passcode to unlock the elevator and head to the top floor.

His lips twitched as he walked through the hushed lobby that was decorated to look like an old English manor house. All dark wood and muted lighting.

He crossed the crimson carpet with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the elegant secretary who eyed him with open suspicion. He was wearing casual jeans and a leather bomber jacket and was three days past needing a shave. No doubt she thought he was a homeless man who’d wandered in off the streets.

“Can I help you?” she forced herself to ask, her voice as cold as her beautiful face.

He didn’t bother to answer, crossing directly to shove open the heavy walnut door. She called out, but he closed the door behind him and entered the office that matched the reception area.

His gaze landed on the older man who was standing next to the bank of windows that overlooked the river.

Lawrence Jacobs had aged over the past weeks. Griff could see added silver in his brown hair and a stoop to his square shoulders that hadn’t been there before. At his entrance the older man slowly turned, his pale eyes widening. Obviously, he’d assumed it was his secretary.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he rasped.

Griff reached to lock the office doors before casually strolling toward Lawrence.

“Clearing up the last of the mess.”

The man’s face darkened, genuine pain flaring through the pale eyes.

“Mess?” he rasped. “Is that what you call killing my son?”

Griff met his accusing gaze without flinching. He didn’t regret shooting Baylor Jacobs. Not when the younger man had tormented Carmen and then planned to kill her.

He’d do it again without blinking an eye.

“Would you rather that he was tried and convicted as a serial killer?” he demanded, strolling forward. “What about your precious Jacobs name?”

The square face paled at the direct hit. They both knew Lawrence would always put the reputation of his business before anything and anyone. Including his own child.

“Tell me what you want,” he snapped.

“The papers that you took from Carmen’s house.”

There was a shocked silence as Lawrence’s white face was suddenly tinted with a dark flush. If Griff had doubted his wild theory, he’d just had it confirmed.

Lawrence licked his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine.” Griff shrugged, reaching into the pocket of his leather coat to pull out his phone. “We’ll let the cops sort it out.”

“Wait.” Lawrence took a step forward, a fine layer of sweat on his forehead. “If someone was at Carrie’s house, then it was probably Ronnie. Or even Baylor.”

“That was my assumption at first,” Griff admitted.

In fact, he hadn’t really thought about that particular incident. Not until he’d been sharing an early-morning conversation with Rylan as they’d sipped coffee and indulged in Jaci’s decadent blueberry muffins.

As the words had left his mouth, he’d been hit with a sudden revelation. One he hadn’t shared with anyone.

Until now.

“Then I realized that it didn’t make any sense,” he said. “Ronnie and Baylor were planning to murder Carmen. Why bother stealing anything?”

A nerve twitched next to Lawrence’s mouth. Griff wondered if the older man ever gambled. He had a terrible poker face.

“They were clearly unstable,” the older man tried to bluff. “Who knows what they were thinking?”

Griff shook his head. “No. They were already on their way to California when someone tried to ram Carmen and me into the river. Which leaves you.”

Lawrence cleared his throat, his gaze darting over Griff ’s shoulder as if wondering if he could make a run for it. At last realizing he was cornered like the proverbial rat, he hunched his broad shoulders.

“You have no proof.”

Griff heaved a deep sigh. Had the idiot forgotten that Griff had created an empire with his ability to either locate information or hide it?

“I could find the proof in less than ten minutes,” he said, holding up his phone. “Using this.”

Lawrence scowled. “How?”

“I would start with the car rental. Even if you used cash I could send a picture of you to the local rental agencies. Someone is bound to remember you,” he said with a shrug. “If they don’t, then one of the auto body shops close to Carmen’s farm certainly will. They’re too small not to remember a stranger coming in. And you most certainly had to get the vehicle repaired before driving it back to Louisville.” He paused, allowing his words to sink through the man’s thick skull. “I have the power and the resources to discover whatever I want.”