Hunter came to the same conclusion. “Have you heard from your people in Florida?”
“I have the name Diaz. No description. From what I’m told, he has all his dirty work done for him. His drug operation is well-oiled, and if anyone on his route is caught, they end up dead. Looks like he has ties to the prison system in Colombia, as well as Florida and Texas. He’s been quiet since Picano’s last shipment ended up in the bottom of the ocean.”
Hunter shook his head. “I deal with corporate sharks, Neil. This is out of my league.”
“Lucky for you, I’m not out of mine. I’ll have my cyber team work on the cell phone calls. You need to convince Gabi to accept a house arrest until we solve this. We can protect her there.”
“The car was in our garage this morning.”
“Didn’t you tell me it was in the shop last week?”
He’d forgotten that.
Neil moved on. “I’ll check on that. Most likely our guy used that opportunity.”
“How did he know there was an opportunity to take?”
“He’s watching you. Watching Gabi.”
Hunter found himself looking around.
“What about Hayden?”
“It’s easier to protect him in your home.”
“I don’t have custody yet. If I mention any of this to the mother, she’ll run to the wrong people, painting a target on both of them.”
“Is there someone you can trust to make them disappear?”
Holy hell.
He was so screwed.
They released her from the hospital the next day. Gabi’s hearing returned and the only indication that she’d escaped near death was a broken arm and a scraped shin. Val had called her first thing in the morning to express his concern and offer her safe haven on his island. Thankfully, Neil and Gwen had convinced her brother and the rest of the family to stay away. She spoke to her brother in Italian, doing her best to keep any possible ears eavesdropping from understanding her words.
“I want you home, Gabi.”
“And invite this on your doorstep? I don’t think so. I made this bed.”
She heard her brother grunt. “If you weren’t married to this man, none of this would have happened.”
“Or I could be dead. Please, Val, don’t make this harder than it is. I will call you every day.”
“And text me every night.”
“Fine. Please try not to worry.”
They spoke for a few minutes before Val finally relented and hung up.
A new car drove Gabi home. There was a car that followed with more security than any one woman should ever need. She couldn’t imagine the secret service providing this kind of detail.
Andrew met her at the door with a hesitant smile. “So happy you’re home, Mrs. Blackwell.”
“Thank you, Andrew.” She looked around the living room, where nothing had changed. Hunter wasn’t there.
He’d left her side during her conversation with Val without a commitment of his return. Gwen had whispered in her ear, once her hearing had returned, that Hunter and Neil were working closely together. She’d also told Gabi that a mandatory house arrest was in order to keep her protected.
Seemed life had been slapping her in the face enough for Gabi to heed her friend’s words.
Refusing more than a couple of Motrin for the pain in her arm, Gabi moved slower than she’d have liked. As easy as it would have been to find her bed, literally, and lie in it, she opened up her computer and ran it through several security checks. She wasn’t big on social media and didn’t have to worry about eyes there. But there were a few online accounts that she dropped into and changed all her passwords.
She called and canceled her cell phone service, found another carrier, and ordered a phone to be delivered with a new number. She logged into the foreign accounts, determined nothing in them had changed, and backed out. Gabi systematically went through a list of the items she needed to replace from her missing purse. Crazy how when it blew up, everything slowed down. Credit cards . . . driver’s license.
When it was all done, Gabi pushed away from the desk and moved into the kitchen.
Andrew and Solomon stopped talking when she entered the room.
“This is going to get uncomfortable in one day if you don’t stop doing that,” she told them both.
“Sorry, Mrs. B.”
She crossed to the pantry and looked inside. “I need to go to the store,” she said.
“Uhm . . . Mr. B. suggested we stay here.”
She knew that. “Let me rephrase. I need groceries from the market. We can order them to be delivered, ask a stranger to show up, or someone can go for me.”
As it turned out, they ordered the food and Andrew went with a security guard to retrieve it.
One-handed baking wasn’t ideal, but it kept her from wondering where the hell Hunter had been gone to all day.
She had questions.
Questions only he could answer.
When she pulled the last of the cookies from the oven, the guard at the gate informed her that the police were requesting a conversation with her.