It was moments like this that I wondered how the hell he got the information he got as fast as he did.
I was sure it had a lot to do with not sleeping and enough caffeine to jumpstart an elephant.
"Okay," I agreed. "But you have a list?"
"Top ten most likely based on activity. Gotta narrow it down by location."
"Need anything from me?"
"To stop breathing down my neck," he suggested, making me let out a surprised laugh before I moved out of the room, heading downstairs, feeling completely fucking useless.
"What can I do?" Seeley asked.
"Get Booker on the phone and tell him I don't give a flying fuck what else he has on his schedule, that he is getting his ass over here tonight or tomorrow, and getting this place wired up."
"Word for word?" Seeley asked, lips twitching.
"Yeah, word for fucking word. Then after that, the fence people. After that, figure out what other shit we should be doing around here to make it a fortress. This shit is never fucking happening again," I told him, moving out into the backyard, pacing along the pavement around the pool, feeling completely useless as I waited for Arty to work his magic.
About half an hour later, I could hear the rumble of the bikes as the men came back, each of them going right inside to shower, tossing his clothes in the wash, then changing, and meeting me outside.
"It's done?" I asked McCoy when he moved to stand next to me as I stared down at the bottom of the pool.
"Yeah."
"You're sure?"
"Nothing for them to find to pin back to us. Once Seeley has a few, we can have him wash down the bikes, clean out the tire treads. Not that I'm worried about the cops looking that closely at this. With their connections, the cops are going to do a preliminary investigation, come up with nothing, and just let these cases go cold. No one is crying over a couple dead cartel members. Especially since the main one they're connected to just made the news a couple weeks ago for kidnapping a mayor's kids and cutting off their hands before finally killing them."
That was true. With all the crime going on in our area, no one was going to clock overtime trying to find the killers of shitheads. They probably figured whoever did them in did the world a service.
"Okay. Good."
"Hey," McCoy said, tone firm.
"Yeah?"
"You good?" he asked. "I get that you're in this. But you were bleeding all over a crime scene."
"If you're looking for an apology for something, McCoy, you are in the wrong profession."
"I don't want an apology. I want to keep my president. And my friend. I don't want to find Harmon, but have your ass carted off to jail for twenty-five-to-life. There are always risks, but you are taking unnecessary ones because you're too in this."
"I am in this," I agreed. "But I got my head more together now. I thought we did this to her. Guilt was mixed with the worry, the anger."
"Wait... what did Arty find out?"
"That Harmon has a stalker, and that is who took her. Been spying on her through her own fucking camera."
"As if she doesn't put enough of herself out there for them," McCoy growled, being allergic to social media himself, always having been intensely private, so not understanding why someone would broadcast themselves out there for others to watch, to pick apart. "Is that better or worse?" he asked after a minute.
"I don't know. At least no one wants to hurt her because they want to get back at us. I guess the best we can hope for is some rabid fan who maybe just wants to be close to her or something."
"And when he learns she doesn't want to be close to him?" McCoy said, not trying to be full of doom and gloom, just practical.
"We have to get there before that happens," I said, shrugging. "She's not stupid. I think she'll be careful if she gets the feeling that someone doesn't immediately want to hurt her. So that can buy us some time."
"And when we get there, what is our move?"
"Depends on what we find," I said, shrugging. "He hurts her, I get to have some fun with him."
"And if he didn't hurt her?"
"I dunno. I guess that's up to her. She can have the cops deal with it, or she can have us handle it in a more permanent way."
"Huck," Seeley called through an upstairs window. "You're not going to believe this shit," he added, shaking his head.
That meant Arty had a name.
I just hoped to fuck he had an address too
I had to go get my girl.
Chapter Fourteen
Harmon
My stomach felt like it was sloshing around even though I wasn't moving. In fact, I was starting to worry I wasn't capable of moving at all. My legs felt locked, my knees almost painfully straight. And while my hand was raised in my plan to grab the door, I wasn't sure it would respond to a command to actually grab it, shove it into the face of whomever was approaching.