Targeted Risk (R.I.S.C. #7) - Anna Blakely Page 0,57
Jake tried to make him understand. “Lopez hasn’t been doing this shit on his own. He wasn’t the one who broke into Juliet’s house in Houston. He didn’t pull a drive-by on your place or blow it all to hell. A guy like that...that’s not his style.”
His mind finally began to catch up. “He’d need someone else to do it.”
“Someone with enough authority to make luring her away from you seem legit.”
Someone with authority...a government agent...
“Fuller.”
“Who?”
“Ah, God.” Mike doubled over and tried to breathe. His physical reaction to the fact that he’d just watched the woman he loved drive away with a killer was enough to damn near bring him to his knees.
The room began to spin. The throbbing returned. His chest heaved with the effort it took to draw in a full breath, and it was all he could do not to empty the contents of his stomach all over the floor.
“Mike?” Jake’s voice sounded muffled. “Goddamn it, Mike. Talk to me!”
Juliet needs you. Pull yourself together, Bradshaw. She needs you.
Legs quivering, he stood and put the phone back to his ear. “He’s got her, Jake.”
“Who?”
“Thomas Fucking Fuller. He’s FBI.”
“How the hell did he—”
“He was here, too. About ten minutes ago. Had a court order to take Juliet into protective custody so she could testify against her father. I looked it over, but...shit. I was pissed and...damn it, it could’ve been fake, for all I know.”
Motherfucker!
With an animalistic growl, Mike swiped his hand across the kitchen table, the move sending the file and all of its contents flying through the air.
“Keep it together, man,” Jake urged. “We’re going to figure this out. We’ll get her back.”
“You’re over two hours away, Jake.” He went into the kitchen. Opening one of the drawers, he grabbed the keys to the truck Ben had left for them to use. “I’m all she’s got.”
Storming across the room to the front door, Mike pulled his coat from the peg and got the shotgun and pistol from the small gun safe positioned in the far corner.
Ben had left those for him, too. For protection from any predators they may encounter. The arrogant son of a bitch left him armed because he didn’t think he’d figure this shit out.
You were wrong, asshole.
Slamming the cabin door behind him, Mike jogged down the porch steps and made his way to the truck. Placing the two weapons onto the passenger seat, he fired up the truck and put it into gear.
“What are you going to do?” Jake asked.
Mike pushed the pedal to the floor and gravel spewed as he spun the truck around. “I’m going hunting.”
Chapter 14
Juliet stared out her window feeling...hell, she didn’t know what she felt, anymore.
Lost. Betrayed. Heartbroken.
Okay, so maybe she did know. She felt all those things and more. She just didn’t know what to do about it.
Not much you can do.
She glanced at the man driving the car. FBI Special Agent Thomas Fuller. Tall and broad, he looked more like a linebacker than a government agent.
And if he thought she was going to do anything for him after the way he’d treated her and Mike, he was even dumber than he looked.
“I won’t help you,” she stated clearly. “So, if you want my father back in prison, you’re going to have to find another way to do it.”
“I didn’t take you so you could testify, sweetheart.”
Wait. What? “Then why...”
Keeping his left hand on the wheel, Agent Fuller reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun. The barrel was pointed directly at her ribs.
“Get the picture now, or do I need to spell it out for you?”
Juliet’s veins turned cold, fear leaving her momentarily frozen. “Why?”
“Why does anyone do anything?”
She was struck with a strange case of déjà vu, and it didn’t take but a few seconds to figure out the cause.
Why does anyone do anything? Money, sweetheart. And your father has a helluva lot to spare.
Aaron Schreiber, the man who’d broken into her townhouse, had said those words to her. Right before he died.
“You sent Schreiber to kill me, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
There was one mystery solved, but she still needed to know who this asshole worked for. If he was getting paid to do this, that meant there was someone else involved. Someone bigger than Fuller who was willing to pay a shit ton of money to make her disappear forever.
“Is it my father?”
“Is what your father?”
Talk about spelling shit out. “Is he the one who’s paying you to do this?”
“Right.” Fuller snorted. “Daddy’s