The Lost Tycoon

Chapter Twenty-Three

Bryson was drained and ready to drop. Finding Ricky had been a lot more difficult than he’d thought, and the kid had been about to make a huge mistake with the lighter and the torch that he had on him. Yes, the kid wanted to get the gang who’d killed his mother, but he was only going to end up joining her in the ground if he didn’t let the law handle it instead of waging a futile vendetta of his own.

She wouldn’t have wanted that for him. She’d loved her son and had taken him out of the embattled neighborhood they’d been living in so he wouldn’t grow up to be in a gang or to deal drugs. The people she’d left behind hadn’t been happy about her escape, and they’d found her. It was just one more nail in that gang’s coffin, since they were under surveillance for narcotics, murder, and various other major crimes.

They would pay — Ricky just had to give the lawyers and Bryson time to do things the right way. After a lot of talking, Ricky had backed down and was now securely back at the safe house, where those worthless bastards couldn’t touch him.

Bryson stopped at a gas station and stuck the nozzle into his tank, then went inside for coffee. After paying for his drink, he walked back outside and checked his messages. He was concerned to note several missed calls from Axel. He hadn’t heard the phone ring. Maybe he’d been too focused on Ricky.

He quickly dialed Axel’s number.

“Winchester, where in the hell have you been?” Axel yelled from the other end of the line.

“I’ve been with Ricky. I’m tired, cranky and in need of a whole lot of sleep. Quit the yelling,” Bryson said as he took the nozzle from the tank and slipped into the driver’s seat.

“He got away from surveillance!” Axel shouted, his voice higher than normal.

Bryson’s muscles locked together and a cold sweat popped out on his brow. He didn’t want to ask the next question.

“Who?”

His voice was so quiet, he wasn’t sure whether Axel had heard him. After starting his motor, he had to sit there for a moment and wipe his palms on his trousers.

“Jesse Marcus.”

Bryson couldn’t get sound through his throat, couldn’t focus. He sat there for a moment, took a deep breath and tried to be rational. Jesse was in Montana — Misty in California. Even if the a*shole had gotten away, he couldn’t reach Misty. Jesse could have no idea where she was.

“She’s safe. Her house was checked before she went home tonight,” he said, trying not to panic. He was at least an hour from her place.

“She’s not home, Bryson. The marshals have been by her place. There’s no sign of her, nothing. And no one has seen Jesse since yesterday. He’s had plenty of time to make it down there.”


“But the house was checked,” Bryson repeated. He’d made sure.

“They found the agent…dead,” Axel said.

The breath rushed from Bryson’s lungs. Jesse might have her — he might have taken her anywhere. But how could he have found her? The records of her location were sealed.

“He can’t know where she is!” Bryson shouted, more scared than he thought he could ever possibly be.

“It doesn’t look good,” Axel told him. “This guy…he has connections, Bryson. I don’t know how or who, but I do know he gets his hands on information he has no business knowing. He gets away with stuff he never should have been able to get away with. As you well know, even this trial has had problems since the start, with evidence turning up missing, witnesses that should be protected ending up dead. I don’t know who’s helping him, but someone is, someone with a lot of power.”

Yes, Bryson knew this — knew all of this, yet he’d still allowed her to go home alone. He’d been confident in the fact that Jesse was being watched, that they’d be warned if the man appeared to be getting even an inkling of where she was. He’d promised to protect her, sworn she wouldn’t get hurt.

What if leaving her at the airport cost him Misty forever? What if she thought he didn’t care?

“Do we have any clues on where he could be?” Bryson asked as he threw his SUV into drive and peeled out of the gas station, hitting the freeway and flooring the gas pedal.

“I’m working on it, Bryson,” Axel said, but he didn’t sound confident.

“I don’t care what you have to do, but get me something,” Bryson shouted into the phone. Maybe they’d missed a clue at her house, something to tell him where Misty could be. He had to find her — had to save her, because he knew beyond a doubt that Jesse had her.

Bryson’s world had been too perfect for it to continue without a glitch. Misty might never trust him ever again if Jesse hurt her. He’d broken his promise that he wouldn’t let Jesse near her.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Axel said.

Bryson wanted to slam his phone through the windshield. “That’s not good enough, Axel. I don’t want you sitting on your ass thinking up ideas. I want you to find her!”

“I know you’re scared, Bryson, and I know I’m the one delivering the news, but don’t talk to me that way. We’re going to get her back.” Confidence and steel now ran through Axel’s voice.

They were both pissed — for their own reasons. Bryson tried to calm down, but he couldn’t. There was too much left up in the air. He felt vulnerable, helpless.

He slammed the phone down on his seat, nearly smashing it. Not wise. If she could call him, he needed to be available. He only hoped he wasn’t speeding away from her as he rushed toward her house.

No matter where he had to go, or what he had to do, he would find her before this night was over, he vowed as he raced down the freeway. One way or another, she was coming home — even if Jesse ended up in a body bag. To think she could be in one too wasn’t acceptable, and he thrust that grim thought from his mind.

Turning his emotions off, he prepared to do whatever it took to find Misty. Because he would die before letting her go.