Page 12 of Without Fail

The man’s vulnerability came through along with the question. The man was an asshole and treated his wife and son coldly, but Marshal knew Ryker was Langston’s weak spot. Not even the man’s wife came close. After all, Ryker was set to inherit everything when Robert died, plus he’d keep the lineage alive

“What did Chad suggest?” Marshal pressed his lips flat.

“He said to beef up security here and ride it out.”

Marshal made an annoyed sound under his breath. It sounded like Chad needed a beatdown.

“I have a contact in the FBI,” he said slowly, testing.

Langston’s gaze turned unreadable and then the man gave a heavy sigh.

“If that’s what it takes. I’ll beef up security here,” Langston said, clearing his throat. “How many more men should I hire? I can call Jaxon West or Fighter Suwan and get a quote.”

Marshal locked his eyes on Langston.

It didn’t make sense that Langston would reach out to the two men who ran Cobalt and Suwan.

But then again, maybe the man wanted to keep this on the up and up. He doubted it. However, Cobalt and Suwan were both world-renowned security corporations and both were located right there in Denver, Colorado.

Typically, Langston kept things in-house, but Marshal wasn’t going to let the guy change his mind now.

“Yes, contact them and I’ll contact the FBI.” Marshal shoved from his seat.

“Wait…”

Marshal turned back and Langston’s throat bobbed, hesitancy filled the man’s eyes.

After years of avoiding the feds in his home, Langston had a choice to make.

Marshal waited.

Finally, Langston nodded. “Do whatever it takes.”

“I’m on it.” He turned toward the door but was stopped again.

“Marshal, I don’t know why you left, but why don’t you come back temporarily? Ryker only listens to you.”

If Langston had seen his son dancing on the tabletop at one of Denver’s exclusive members’ clubs, the man might have thought differently.

He’d had zero effect on getting Ryker to stop his public display. Perhaps a few years ago, Ryker might have listened to him, but right now was not the case.

“I’ll think about it,” he said without turning around and strode from the room.

Two days later, Marshal entered the Langston estate carrying a carry-on-sized suitcase.

Being back there was only temporary.

“Nice place,” Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the FBI, Alexander Channing, said, entering the foyer with him.

“Mr. Thomas, Mr. Channing,” the Langston butler said, greeting them.

“ASAC Channing,” Alex easily corrected the older man.

Marshal would have told Alex not to bother, John Brown had been with the family for years and never followed protocol nor rules to his knowledge.

“I’ll take your luggage, sir,” a young man said from behind John and stepped forward with a grin.

This guy was new and Marshal made a mental note to get his hands on any and all background information on all employees, past or present.

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