“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” Shane said.
Nick gave a tight nod and resisted the memories of how many other times he’d given briefings and orders to these men. This wasn’t the Army. He wasn’t their second in command. And he wasn’t the same man he’d been then. Goddamnit. “Becca came to me two days ago. Her brother was missing, and the last communication she’d received from him told her to find me. I turned her away.” That got their attention. Shane uncrossed his arms and braced himself against the counter. Easy sat up straighter on his stool. “I didn’t want anything to do with the Merritts or whatever trouble they had. But I couldn’t shake wondering why her brother Charlie, who I’d never met, would tell her to seek my help. Why he’d specifically tell her in a note that I was a member of their father’s Special Forces team.”
“How’d he know who you were?” Beck asked.
“Not sure. Maybe Merritt talked shop with them at some point? Or something in his personal effects?” Nick shrugged, and the small movement revealed how much tension had settled into his shoulders. The air was heavy with it. “What was even more interesting was why, once he found me, Charlie thought I’d be able to help with whatever trouble he’s in.” He still couldn’t shake the feeling there was something there. “So I kept an eye on Becca to see if there was really anything going on. Last night, I chased an intruder out of her house. He’d been digging around in her office, by the looks of things. That’s when she told me Charlie’s house had been tossed a few days before.”
Easy clasped his big hands in front of him. “Sounds like some bad juju, but I’m not seeing a connection.” Around the bar, heads nodded.
Rixey glanced between the men and hoped his next information was the same money shot for them as it’d been for him. “After the break-in, Becca mentioned that she and Charlie fought before he went missing. He’s a hacker, and he told her he’d found something that proved their father wasn’t who she thought he was.” Rixey paused, giving that a beat to sink in. “Since he said that, he’s gone missing, someone’s broken into and searched both their houses, and someone tried to grab her today. Whoever this is came back and took a second swing at Becca’s place sometime last night. Turned the place upside down. Somebody’s clearly looking for something from the Merritts and not finding it. Yet.”
“Jesus,” Shane bit out.
“Merritt wasn’t who any of us thought he was,” Easy said. His tight monotone belied the white-hot anger flashing behind the man’s dark eyes. Rixey wasn’t the only one still existing in that state of outraged pissed off, apparently. But that’s what happened when someone tried to strip a man of his honor.
Nick met each of their gazes, looking for the smallest evidence that he was getting their buy-in on this. So far, that was about as clear as mud. “Exactly. So, the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question is, what did Merritt’s son find that led him to the same conclusion?”
“Any idea how good a hacker he is?” Beckett asked in a low, calculating voice.
“Good enough that companies pay him to test their cybersecurity measures by attempting to hack in. Beyond that, dunno.”
Shane heaved a deep breath. “There’s a lot of circumstantial bullshit here, Nick. It’s like if times maybe divided by could be to the hundredth power. If Charlie found something that related to Merritt’s black op, and if someone found the info had leaked, and if they nabbed Charlie and were actively investigating what he found and how he’d found it, then maybe there’s a connection to what happened to us.”
“Easiest way to know if all that’s true is to find Charlie. He sounds like the key to all this.” Beckett shrugged. “That’s a job for the police or a PI.”
“Yeah. Why not let Baltimore’s finest handle this sitch?” Easy asked, looking between them.
Rixey’s cell buzzed in his pocket. “Hold on,” he said, pulling it out and hoping it was Miguel. Bingo. “Miguel?”
“Yep. I’m at the back door.”
Rixey gave him the code and disconnected. “Gimme a minute. I have someone who can answer that question better than me.” He crossed to the apartment door and opened it. Miguel’s footsteps echoed in the stairwell as he made his way up. “Thanks for coming out so late,” Nick said when the older man hit the landing, a leather case in hand.
“Sorry I got hung up.”
“Don’t worry about it. Come on in. Got some people I want you to meet.”