Rich (Benson Security #5) - Janet Elizabeth Henderson Page 0,110
the wall filled with information.
Harvard stilled as he read through the data, then let out a slow breath of a curse. “We sure?”
“As sure as we can be,” Elle said tightly.
Harvard turned to Joe. “We need to pick him up and have a chat with him. Do we have a location?”
“Yeah,” his childhood friend said, looking every inch the dangerous former army ranger that he was. “Callum and Ryan already lifted him. He’s on his way. And he isn’t happy about it.”
“Like we give a crap,” Elle snapped.
Harvard put a hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t enough to convict him. We need to be patient. To do this right. Otherwise, he’ll get away with it.” He turned to Joe. “You and Noah head over to his apartment and see what you can find.”
“You’re talking breaking and entering; not sure Noah will be up for that. It ain’t like we have a warrant giving us permission to toss the house.”
“It needs to be done. If Noah won’t do it, wait for Ryan. He won’t have any moral issues that’ll stop him from taking care of business.”
Joe nodded. “You calling in Rachel?”
Harvard glanced back at the screen and the one tiny line that had a name in it. “Not until we’re sure. The blackmailer’s played us all along; let’s make sure this information hasn’t been planted before we bring in Rachel.” Because if a member of her family was behind her attack, it would destroy her.
“Elle, Harry, is there any way to check if this information was planted?” Harvard asked as Joe left the room.
They shared a look where they almost seemed to communicate telepathically.
“There’s a couple of things we could try,” Harry said at last.
Elle’s attention went straight to her keyboard. “But if this is a stretch for us, I don’t think your blackmail suspect could do it.”
“Let’s check anyway,” Harvard said as he pulled out his phone to text Rachel.
When the text from Harvard came through, Rachel hoped it would get her out of the bridal boutique. Unfortunately, all it said was Nothing concrete yet. How are you doing?
She tapped back: The designer was a bitch, and I should know one when I see one. Sam’s bought three dresses. Mother gave up on us and went home. We’re winding up with the designer from hell and then going back to my place. Sam has a folder full of wedding ideas that she HAS to show me.
Sounds like a girls’ night. The fool said, having far too much fun at her expense. Go straight there and set the alarm once you’re both in. Don’t let anyone inside except a member of our team.
A chill went through her, making her shiver. You think the blackmailer is someone I know well enough to let into my apartment?
Just be extra cautious. I’ll be in touch as soon as I know more.
She was grateful he didn’t sign off with heart emojis.
“Everything okay?” Sam said as they hailed a taxi.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“That’s our Rachel, able to take on the world without blinking an eye.” A cab pulled up, and Sam climbed into the back. “Hurry up. I want to show you my ideas before that hunky fiancé of yours gets home. It’s bad luck for the groom to see the wedding plans before they happen.”
“No, it isn’t.” Rachel got in beside her. “It’s bad luck if he sees the dress. Not the wedding plans.”
Sam patted her arm. “I agree that’s the case with most people. But for you, it’s probably best to play it safe.”
Rachel just stared at her as the taxi headed through the streets of London to Hyde Park.
Harvard stepped into Benson Security’s interrogation room and faced the man seated at the table. His suit was rumpled, and his hair stood on end from him running his hands through it. Harvard knew because he’d watched him do it through the one-way mirror while Callum briefed him on what had happened during the trip to pick up their suspect.
“Harvard,” he said, looking relieved. “What’s going on? Two guys kidnapped me and brought me here. They wouldn’t tell me what was happening. But the Scottish one scared the crap out of me. Is this because of my debt? Because I’ve made arrangements to pay that back. I swear. I’m on top of it. I’ve stopped gambling. I’m serious about making a go of things at TayFor. Please, call off the dogs.”
“No.” Harvard took a seat facing Rupert Talbot. “This isn’t about your gambling debt. This