A sleep-deprived night later? Nothing.
At his elbow, his phone vibrated. He glanced at the display. If one of his bosses was calling at this hour, it wasn’t good. “Edgington?”
“Yeah,” Hunter confirmed. “Why are you at the office, Trees?”
What was the politically correct response for telling his superior that, contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t the douchebag leaking the safe house location of their company’s most vulnerable clients? “Checking out Cutter’s and Josiah’s machines before wiping them clean.”
“At four a.m.?”
In other words, when we’re not in the office to keep tabs on you.
“I figured there was no time to waste since you’ve already replaced Josiah with…” Fuck, he was so fried that he couldn’t remember the small-town Texas deputy’s name.
“Kane Preston,” Hunter supplied.
“Right. He’ll have a computer when he starts the job in a few hours.”
But they both knew that making sure the new guy was set up with tech wasn’t the reason Trees had foregone sleep.
Ever since Valeria Montilla’s safe house in St. Louis had been breached last October and his fellow operative, Pierce Walker, had temporarily been taken captive by her late husband’s cartel, he’d worried EM Security’s owners—the Edgington brothers and Joaquin Muñoz—suspected he was selling info. His conversation with his best friend and fellow operative, Zyron Garrett, on their way back to Louisiana earlier had confirmed that. Trees had hoped that something on his former teammates’ laptops would show that hackers, not a mole, were the root cause of their problem.
Nope.
Since both computers had been clean and the office network didn’t appear to have been infiltrated, that meant someone on their team was cashing out company intel. As much as Trees hated to say it, his money was on Tessa Lawrence, the office’s single-mom receptionist. But Zy had fallen too hard for the pretty blonde to believe her capable of betrayal. So until Trees could prove to the higher-ups that he wasn’t the traitor, he was suspect number one.
We’re going to figure out who’s been selling our secrets. That’s what he’d promised when Zy had asked him to help.
Their bosses had put his buddy between a rock and a hard place, ordering him to root out the identity of their turncoat, along with details about why and how Valeria’s whereabouts had fallen into the wrong hands. He and Zy had been friends too long and nearly died together too many times for either of them to believe the other would sell out. But after a night with these computers, Trees was back to square one in finding a culprit. So despite his exhaustion, he kept searching. His ass was on the line.
“We have a developing situation,” Hunter said. “You’ll be leaving for Florida as soon as we get more information.”
They were sending him on a mission? He’d just gotten back. Had they picked him because they were so short-staffed? No, they’d tapped him on the shoulder to get him out of town so they could perform a more in-depth investigation on him. Whatever. He had nothing to hide. Maybe the bosses would finally figure that out.
“What’s up?
“Someone broke into Valeria Montilla’s safe house last night. She was at a concert, but her sister and her son were there. She rushed home to find them gone. There were signs of a struggle. If Laila got out, she left in a hurry because her phone, wallet, and money were all still there. But that also might mean the cartel took her…”
Unfortunately, that was the most likely scenario. He had never met Laila, but he didn’t see how Valeria’s younger sister—a woman barely legal to order a beer—would be wily enough to escape professional thugs with a toddler. As unfortunate as that was, what he really wondered was why they were sending him to Florida if they thought he was guilty as hell.
“On our go, you and Kane need to get there. He’ll bring Valeria back ASAP. Maybe now she’ll finally grasp why choosing privacy over a round-the-clock guard is a fucking horrible idea.” He sighed. “You find Laila and Jorge—whatever that takes—and bring them back in one piece. I doubt Montilla’s organization has any interest in killing the boy, but Valeria’s sister…”
The worry she wasn’t long for this world hung heavy in Hunter’s voice.
“She’s nothing to them,” Trees agreed.
“Except as a pawn they’ll use to control Valeria, yeah. Apparently, it wouldn’t be the first time.”
Trees felt really fucking sorry for Laila. The cartel probably hadn’t been kind to her. “I’m on it.”
“Good. Be fast. Run clean. Report back often. And don’t fuck up.”
“Roger that.”
Three beeps told Trees that Hunter was gone. It was a relief.
He rose and stretched. At six foot eight, he managed to touch the low, industrial ceiling. Longingly, he thought of the super-comfortable sofa in the conference room. Since he’d managed to wash everything in his duffel before leaving Texas, he could crash for a few hours, then change into clean clothes and bug out as soon as the bosses gave him the go-ahead. But running more tests on all the network software, just in case he’d missed something, was more critical—especially now that Valeria’s location had been breached again, and the woman’s sister and son were missing.