Rare Vigilance (Whitethorn Agency)

“Delightful.” She yawned. “I’ll get back to you later.”

“Talk to you then,” he agreed. He snapped a few pictures of the bike, including its likely stolen plates and sent them to her. Then, with nothing else to do, he headed for the front of the club to call a taxi, praying it arrived before anything else could go wrong.

Chapter Fifteen

Bea’s friend ran the plates to find they belonged to a different motorcycle whose owner had died in a wreck. Bea suspected someone snagged them out of the scrap yard to use on Leroy’s bike. He didn’t know if it was the evidence he needed until he shared his findings with Decebal the next night.

“They were registered out of New Jersey?” Decebal asked as he skimmed the printouts.

“Yes, sir.”

Decebal frowned and set the papers aside. “That’s within the Wharrams’ territory. I’ll need to think on how to broach the subject with the Council. And that is not the worst problem.”

“Oh?”

“Someone deleted the security footage from last night, including the backups. There are very few people who would have access to do such a thing.”

The older man shuffled some of the papers on his desk, not meeting Atlas’s gaze. “Mr. Kinkaid, the mole within my family risked my son’s life this morning. I need you to find out who is responsible before it’s too late.”

“I’ll do everything I can to protect him, sir,” Atlas promised. It felt like a

lie though, poisoned by his own hypocrisy. Other than Bryony Wharram, Atlas himself posed the greatest danger to Cristian. “How involved do you wish to be in deciding the safety protocols?”

Decebal held up a hand and shook his head. “I hired Whitethorn because Beatrice said you could be trusted to act independently if I were unavailable. Preparing for such eventualities was your focus in the military, yes?”

“Yes, sir. Security and rapid response were my platoon’s specialties.”

“Then I trust your decisions with this matter. Do whatever it takes to keep my son safe, Mr. Kinkaid. As long as the threat to Cristian ends, you will have my full support.”

“Very good, sir,” Atlas said.

“Mr. Kinkaid,” Decebal called out when Atlas rose to leave. He waited for Atlas to meet his gaze before stating again, slower and firmer this time, “I trust you. Do not fail me in this.”

“I understand, sir,” Atlas said weakly. He couldn’t get out of the study fast enough.

* * *

Atlas hoped time would lessen the impact of Decebal’s offered trust. A few weeks later, the way his stomach swooped when he picked up an unknown-number call and heard Jasper on the other end proved otherwise.

“Mr. Kinkaid?” Jasper asked again when Atlas didn’t respond. “Are you there?”

“I’m here,” he said at last, setting his coffee mug down on his kitchen counter.

“You hadn’t called yet this week. I was growing worried,” Jasper said. They were all the right words, layered with just enough concern that a lesser man might believe it.

Atlas knew better.

“It’s been busy,” he told Jasper, refusing to explain further.

“I see.” Jasper cleared his throat carefully. “And how is this week looking?”

Atlas fiddled with the handle of his mug, mind racing. Before, he’d happily shared Cristian’s schedule, sure he was doing something good in passing along that information. Now, after everything, including the nearly fatal incident at Rapture, he understood the true risks of handing the Wharrams potential leverage. His refusal was necessary, but he couldn’t risk inciting Bryony’s further ire.

“Mr. Vladislavic and Mr. Slava are being very cautious considering the recent attempts made against them,” he lied. “Each evening’s schedule is different, and I don’t learn it until I arrive on shift.”

“I didn’t realize they’d grown so suspicious,” Jasper said thoughtfully. “I wonder what put them so on edge.”

“I’m sure you can think of a few things,” Atlas said before swallowing down the rest of his accusation. Showing his true thoughts on their methods would accomplish nothing but piquing Bryony’s interest. “I need to be careful while I’m on shift,” Atlas went on, grateful Jasper couldn’t see him and read the tension in his body. “Mr. Vladislavic is searching for anyone he thinks might be working against his family. Risking his attention is a bad idea. I’ll try to get in touch with you when I can.”