“They hurt them, I’ll kill them then I’ll kill Bill.”
“Move her to a couch.” Again from Elvira but not a suggestion this time.
“They’ve got my kids,” I whispered and on the second word, my voice broke.
I felt pressure on my waist then my body was moving then I found myself sitting on a couch.
Two seconds later, the door Brock and Tack disappeared behind opened and both men came out and both came directly to me.
Brock crouched down in front of me and captured my eyes.
“Hang tight, Mara, we’ll get them,” he said quietly. “Now I gotta get to Mitch. He’s not calling because he’s busy but he wants you to know he’s on it.”
I nodded.
Mitch was on it.
Finally, I felt a little better. Mitch would never, never let anything happen to our kids.
Brock nodded back, reached out a hand, squeezed my knee, straightened then prowled out.
Tack filled my vision.
I held my breath at the look in his eyes.
Yes, very dangerous hot guy.
“I underestimated the situation. This is my f**k up. We’ll get them, chestnut, then we’ll get them,” his gravelly voice promised.
I held his eyes and my voice vibrated when I whispered, “Yes. Please. Get them.”
I understood him.
He understood me.
He nodded.
Then he was gone.
* * * * *
Mitch
“Man, let me talk to him. You know this is not a good idea,” Hank Nightingale said from his side.
“I’m on this,” Mitch growled.
Hank looked behind him at Eddie Chavez who was following.
Eddie shook his head.
Hank muttered, “Fuck.”
Mitch ignored him and Chavez, walked direct to the interrogation room, opened the door and saw Bill Winchell sitting at the table in his orange jumpsuit. At their entry, Winchell’s head came up, his eyes narrowed on Mitch and his face twisted with hate.
Two seconds later, Bill Winchell was against the wall with Mitch’s hand wrapped around his throat.
Hank at one side, Eddie at the other, Hank murmured, “Stand down.”