“Damn it, Crawford, you need to tell me what’s going on.”
Shooting him a look over his shoulder, Joss lifted a brow. “Well, you always manage to figure things out on your own. I figure you’ll do this one, too.”
Then he headed back into the room.
He needed a few more minutes with Dru.
A few more minutes . . . a lifetime.
* * *
“CAN you read him?”
Taige glared at Jones as he closed a hand around her arm and jerked her away from Cullen.
“Do you mind?” she snapped.
But then she saw the look on the boss’s face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.
“Can you read Crawford or not?”
She didn’t bother turning to look at him. “No. Not unless he decides to let me in, and I can tell you, he’s not doing that.”
Shit.
No time left to try and grill the bastard, either, Taylor knew.
Joss and Chapman were already heading out, and the rest of the team was going to be behind them. Taylor wasn’t going to be far behind them, not far at all. If he could find a way, he’d be riding in the damn SUV with them, but Whitmore was already about to run.
The evidence Chapman had given them, all circumstantial, was enough to hold the man. Taylor didn’t want this man held. He wanted him dead. Very dead. Of course, he couldn’t do that, so locked away for life would work.
Shoving his way closer to Crawford, he caught the man’s dark gaze. You’re going to be careful, damn it.
He didn’t need to worry whether or not Joss heard him.
After all, he was just like Jillian right now . . . and all it took with this kind of psychic gift was thinking loudly.
Taylor was thinking damn loud.
Crawford gave him a sharp-edged smile.
But there wasn’t time for anything else.
Damn it.
Damn it.
Damn it.
TWENTY-EIGHT
CLIMBING into the car Taylor had gotten him, Joss let the images roll through his mind one more time.
A lot of ways this could play out. But he needed to focus on the outcome he needed. Everything else was a distraction.
Dru was quiet.
She looked so fragile . . . like she’d snap or break.
The closer they got to Whitmore’s mansion, the more strained the silence got.
The more haunted she looked.
He couldn’t believe he had to take her back there.
Thirty minutes later, he pulled his phone out, dialed the number. He put it on the console, keeping it on speaker.
“I’m on my way.”
There was a pause.
“Unless you’ve got my fiancée, I don’t want to see you,” Whitmore said coldly.
“Yeah, well, unless you’ve got my million, I have no reason to see you.” He waited a beat and then asked, “Do you have it?”
A harsh breath was the only sound to betray Whitmore’s surprise. But it was enough. “How?” he demanded. “How can you have her?”
“Hmmm. Well, let’s just say, she found me. And you don’t know her as well as you think. The dumb broad was playing both sides, you know that?” He glanced over at Dru, swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “I wasn’t able to get much out of her, but I get the feeling some of your . . . competition was trying to get the inside scoop. She’s been watching you a long, long time.”
At that, Dru lowered her head, a faint smile curling her lips.
Not bad, she mouthed.
Of course it wasn’t bad. He had insider knowledge. Unable to keep his hands to himself, he reached over, curved his hand over her neck.
“And you know this how?”
“It was about all I managed to get out of her before she passed out.” He stroked his thumb down her neck, staring at the highway, thinking of all the ways he’d liked to hurt Whitmore. Breaking his hands, to start. Those hands had hurt Dru. They had to be first.
“Would you stop it with the lazy-boy routine?” Whitmore bit off. “How did you find her so fast?”
“I already explained this . . . I didn’t find her.” Joss smiled. “She found me. Showed up while I was eating breakfast . . . and by the way, I’ve got to tell you, I’m pissed you decided to go and bug my car. I had to go and find a different set of wheels, but just so you know? No more bugs in my vehicles.”
The SUV he’d been using would have been hauled away by now.
Had Whitmore seen footage from the compound, or had it all been shot to hell when the electrical blowout happened?