The Angels' Share (The Bourbon Kings #2) - J. R. Ward Page 0,119
is where the motherboard, or whatever you call it, is.”
Stopping in front of a steel door that had no signage on it, he entered another code, and after a clunking sound indicated the dead bolt was free, he opened the heavy panel wide.
As the automatic overhead lights came on, he meant to keep talking. Keep moving. But a sudden mental connection shorted him out.
“Mr. Baldwine?”
He shook himself and looked back at the detective. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Is something wrong?”
“Ah, no.” He stepped to the side, getting out of the way and indicating the workstation with its bank of monitors and keyboards and rolling chairs. “Have at it.”
Pete went Captain Kirk at the set-up, sitting behind the collection of technology like he knew what any of it meant. “So I’ll need access to the footage. Can you get me in?”
Lane shook his head to clear it. “I’m sorry?”
“I need a log-in and a password to the network.”
“I don’t have that.”
Merrimack smiled like he’d expected this. “You better get us one. Now.”
“Give me a moment, will you?”
Stepping back out into the hall, he went a distance away and palmed his phone. As he stared at the glossy screen, all he could do was shake his head.
Because now he knew what his brother had been doing during the visitation. Damn it.
Taking a deep breath, Lane dialed the Red & Black caretaker’s cottage. One ring … two rings … three rings …
“Hello?”
As Edward’s voice came over the line, Lane closed his eyes. “Edward.”
“Little brother, how are you?”
“I’ve been better. The police are here with me at the business center. They have a warrant for the security footage.” When there was only silence, he muttered, “Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes. And?”
For a split second, he wanted to tell Edward to grab as much cash as he could, find a car, and get the fuck out of town. He wanted to yell. He wanted to curse.
And he wanted the truth.
But he also needed the lie that everything was okay and his brother hadn’t traded a figural prison for a literal one, all in the name of revenge.
Lane cleared his throat. “They need to get into the network so they can copy the files.”
“Give them my sign-on details.”
What the fuck did you do, Edward? Edward, they’re going to find out if you tampered with—
“Having any luck, Mr. Baldwine?”
As Merrimack leaned out of the security room, Lane said into his phone, “Text them to me, okay?”
“You called me on a rotary phone, remember?” Edward’s voice was as smooth as always as he recited the details. “You got that?”
“Yes.”
“They know where to find me if they have any questions. Is that Merrimack with you? He came out and paid me a visit the other day.”
“Yes, he’s the detective.”
There was a short pause. “It’s all going to be okay, little brother. Stop worrying.”
And then the call was ended on Edward’s side.
Lane lowered his phone. “I have what you need.”
Merrimack smiled once again. “I had every faith you’d comply with the order. Was that your brother Edward?”
“Yes.”
Merrimack nodded. “Nice guy. Sorry to see him in that condition. Did he tell you I’ve been out to see him?”
“He did.”
“You know, he doesn’t really look like you.”
Lane stepped around the detective to enter the security monitoring room. “He used to.”
Out in Ogden County, at the Red & Black, Edward hung up the receiver on the wall by the kitchen just as Shelby came through the cottage’s main door. She was freshly showered, her hair drying across her shoulders, her jeans clean, her short-sleeved shirt blue and white checked.
“What?” she said as she saw his face.
“I’m sorry?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He shook his head. “I’m not. But listen, I want to go out for dinner. And I want you to come with me.”
When she just blinked at him, he rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll be more polite. Please. Come eat with me. I would greatly appreciate your company.”
“No, it’s not that.” She patted her shirt. “I’m not dressed for anything fancy.”
“Neither am I, and I’m in the mood for good chicken. So we should go to Joella’s.”
Limping over to the door, he opened the panels wide. “Are you up for it? Six levels of spice, and each one is a taste of heaven—and that isn’t blasphemy.”
“Do you want to be asking Moe?”
“Nah, I just want you. To come eat with me, that is.”
As he indicated the great outdoors, there was a pause … and then Shelby went out first. When she