One-Knight Stand (White Knights #3) - Julie Moffett Page 0,69

Remington gets out and tries to use the keypad to open it, it won’t work because of the dead battery. He’ll be forced to leave his car in the driveway either without locking it—and wouldn’t that be nice—or he’ll lock it and we’ll have access to it once he goes inside through our key fob relay. Then Wally will work his magic on the security system again while you, Mike, slip into the car and plant the bug and tracker.”

“Where are you going to be?” Mike asked.

“With Team B in case something goes wrong with the tracker software. Splitting Wally and me up means we’ll have good technical support on each team.”

“That seems logical, but you make this sound so easy,” Mike said. “Especially since all this will be going down while Remington is just feet away in the house. Plus, what if he has nosy neighbors?”

“I’ll run interference with the neighbors,” Frankie said with confidence. “I’ll keep an eye on things, I promise. We’ve got this.”

Mike shrugged. “Of course, we’ve got it. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be tricky. Timing will be everything.”

Wally and Mike switched places so Wally could drive. While they were doing that, I gave Kira’s burner a call.

Operation Get Gym Rat’s Keys was already underway for Team B without me.

“Hey, Kira, it’s me,” I said when she answered. “What’s happening on your front?”

“Not much,” she replied. “Bo signed up for the free workout and we’re surveilling the place while waiting for Sampson to arrive. I sweet-talked the manager a bit and asked a bunch of questions about the gym and patrons. I managed to veer the conversations toward gym regulars, including Sampson. He told me Sampson comes in pretty much every day after work. He does a pretty tough circuit of weightlifting before showering and heading home. If he follows pattern, Sampson should be coming in today after work.”

“That’s what we’re hoping for,” I said. “Let’s hope he follows his regular routine. How does it look in the locker room?”

“Bo checked it out and says he thinks the lockers can be easily jimmied. That means as soon as Sampson dumps his stuff there, his keys are ours for the taking, as long as he doesn’t keep them in his pocket. If he does that, we’ll have to think of something else. Otherwise, Bo will jimmy the locker, get the keys, and pass them to me. I’ll get them to you guys in the parking lot. Get his car bugged and tracked, then return the keys to me. Bo will get them back in his bag, and he won’t be the wiser. Hopefully it all goes off without a hitch.”

Hope. I was relying a lot on hope. “Sounds good, Kira.”

“Thanks. But Angel, just in case, make sure Jax is ready with a wire coat hanger. We have to get that tracker planted. You know, Plan B for Team B.”

“Good thinking,” I said. “It’s always good to have a plan B.”

At three o’clock, Wally, Frankie, Mike, and Hala—Team A—drove to Remington’s house to get in place.

Wally dropped me off at Jax’s car in the gym parking lot before they headed out. Now, we sat in his car listening to music and munching on snacks, waiting for Glen Sampson to arrive. Kira and Bo were still inside the gym, which meant it was just a waiting game.

After forty-five minutes, I began to appreciate what the school instructors had said about surveillance. Hours of mind-numbing boredom punctuated by moments of extreme action and adrenaline. At least I wasn’t in the gym, having to work out to keep my cover.

“You’re sure we don’t have to worry about security cameras surveilling the parking lot?” Jax asked.

“I’m sure. This is an old building and I don’t see any cameras. Still, having said that, nothing is one-hundred percent certain, so take as many precautions as you can to stay unseen. Our biggest concern will be pedestrians and other drivers in the parking lot. I’ll try to run interference on that the best I can.”

“It’s going to be tricky.”

“I’m not arguing with that.” I dialed Bo from my burner phone. “You and Kira still alive in there?”

“We’re going to need showers,” he responded. “But we’re good.”

“No sign of Sampson yet. I’ll ping you when he’s on his way in.”

“Got it.” He hung up.

I slipped my phone back in my pocket. “You know, it infuriates me to think Remington or Sampson might have my mother somewhere and are acting like nothing is out of