Page 85 of Reckless

Laughing, Serena pulled her into a hug. “You may have to get in line. I think everyone at OZ has threatened the same thing.”

Serena pulled away, drew in a shaky breath, and then gestured at the board beside them. “So what do you think?”

“I think you’ve done some amazing work, but I have one big question.”

“Let me guess. You want to know who Lazarus is.”

“Yes. Do you have any idea?”

“Yes and no. A lot of what I know is conjecture. There’s chatter on the dark web, but it’s obscure and vague. I believe he lives in various parts of the world. I’ve tracked him to Portugal, Greece, and most recently Japan. I believe he has a daughter and a son-in-law. He keeps his circle extremely small.”

“Any idea what he looks like?”

“No. But I think I might be able to find him through his daughter. She lives in New York City.”

“Wow, and Ash doesn’t know about any of this?”

“Nope. You’re the first. So what do you think?”

“I think, thanks to you, we are finally going to get to cut off the head of the snake we’ve been hunting for years.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Montana

Xavier slammed the fridge door and held the bottle of beer against his forehead for a second before he twisted off the top and downed half of its contents in one swallow. What a frustrating, mind-numbing day. His head was so full of useless information, he wished he could take a shovel and dig out the gunk.

After they’d eliminated Doyle’s son as a suspect, they’d covered every known man or woman who was tied or previously tied to the Irish mob in Chicago. It had been a long list. They’d found money launderers, weapons and designer knockoff smugglers, and a surprising number of people who earned their wealth by demanding money for providing protection. Kevin Doyle had made his fortune from all those activities, but they could find no ties between those illegal activities and Jazz’s abduction.

There were tons of illegal happenings tied to the mob, and more than a few of those people would likely be very interested in snatching a woman with blood ties to Ronan Byrne, as well as someone who could bring in a load of cash to sweeten the deal. But so far, not one person gave off the slightest hint of a vibe that Jasmine McAlister had been located, much less abducted.

So they were left with some possibilities, and Xavier didn’t like any of them. One, Kevin Doyle, along with a few of his goons, had been working alone. Two, someone out there was manipulating the data, just waiting for OZ to give up so they could strike again. Three, everyone was lying.

His gut told him the first possibility was wrong. Doyle might’ve kept things close to his chest, but no way had he done this solo.

The third possibility was off, too. There were way too many people giving them the same answer. None of them were novices when it came to interrogation. Someone usually flipped or said something by mistake, leading to the guilty party. As of yet, that hadn’t happened.

The second scenario seemed the most likely and was his least favorite. Data was being manipulated, intel was being buried, and someone was waiting in the wings until they let their guard down.

Chugging down the last of his beer, Xavier opened the fridge, reached for another one, and then stopped. What was he going to do? Get drunk? How was that going to help? Admittedly, he could put away more than a couple of brews before he felt a buzz, but drinking another one would be useless. Nothing was going to make this better.

Bypassing the bag of takeout he’d purchased on his way home, Xavier stripped off his clothes and headed to the bathroom. He’d had maybe five hours of sleep in the last three days. A shower, sleep, and then maybe he’d be able to get his head on straight and actually accomplish something.

The minute the water pounded down on him, he leaned his head against the cool wet tile and admitted the truth. He missed her. Heaven help him, he missed her so much. Why had he waited so long to tell her how he felt? They’d had only a few weeks together after he’d cut out his heart and handed it to her. And now, they were thousands of miles apart, and he wasn’t sure when he’d be seeing her again.

He’d made a promise to himself that he would uncover the threat before he followed her to Wisconsin. So far, it had been an epic fail.

The only good thing about this, and it was a very good thing, was that she was safe, and from the calls and texts he had received, she was thoroughly enjoying her time with Serena’s family.

Serena was keeping him updated as well and had reported that Jazz was sleeping well and had put on a couple of pounds. Knowing that she was recovering and getting the peace she needed kept him here, continuing to dig.

Blowing out a sigh, he finished up his shower, dried down, and brushed his teeth. Grabbing a pair of loose shorts, he slid them on and fell face-first into bed.

Two hours later, he heard the slightest of sounds and knew he wasn’t alone. With swiftness born out of practice, he went for his gun on the nightstand, only to find an empty space.

“Relax,” a gruff voice said in the darkness, “if I’d wanted to kill you, you would’ve been dead years ago.”

It took half a second for him to know the man’s identity.

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