“I’ll pay for it,” Dani said.
Madison took out her phone and scrolled through the contacts. “We’ll figure that out later.”
Half an hour later, a plan was in place, and the first of JamesHargrove’s female operatives walked through the door. They’d gotten lucky that he’d had a client postpone a trip, freeing up several of his bodyguards.
“Jane Blackwell,” the woman said, introducing herself first to Dani then to Madison and Clayton. “I’ve been doing this for ten years, and I’ll take good care of her.”
Clayton had no trouble believing the warrior-like agent. She carried herself with the confidence that came from years of experience in protecting people. His phone dinged, and he glanced at it. “Hugh is arriving at the judge’s house in fifteen minutes,” he said. “We need to fill him in about this.”
“Before you go, I want to show you photos of the team.” Jane handed Dani her phone. “This is especially important for you—if someone shows up and says they’re here to guard you, make sure it’s one of these women. I’ll AirDrop the photos to your phone in a minute so you can memorize their faces.”
“Can you send them to us too?” Clayton asked.
“Planned to as well as exchanging phone numbers. Give me yours, and I’ll call you, then you’ll have mine.”
Once she AirDropped the photos, Clayton scrutinized the women’s faces. All, like Jane Blackwell, looked extremely capable. He waited while Madison hugged Dani and murmured something to her.
A few minutes later he picked Madison up at the hospital entrance. “Do we have time to run by the Old Jail?” she asked. “I’d like to pick up the files Deon Cox left. He indicated these should be the last ones, and I can get them sorted over the weekend.”
He’d meant to pick the files up for her, but there’d been no chance. “Don’t you want to take some downtime? You’ve had a bad week.”
“If I do nothing, I’ll start brooding about everything. Besides, my answer to a bad week has always been to stay busy.”
That didn’t surprise him. “Have you called to see if anyone is at the office? It’s almost five.”
“I’ll do that now.” She made the call. “Paul’s there. He’ll bring them out.”
Ten minutes later, Clayton idled at the curb and Madison texted Paul that they were there. While they waited for the supervisor, he scanned the area and didn’t see anything that raised his suspicion. When the supervisor approached the SUV with a box in his arms, Clayton hopped out and opened the back hatch.
“Thanks.”
Once the files were secure, Paul tapped on Madison’s window, and she lowered it.
“I’m sorry about your grandfather,” he said. “Vivian would be here to express her sympathy, but she’s been out sick since lunch yesterday. She’s taken the judge’s death pretty hard—they attended the same church.”
“Tell her thank you.”
As they drove away from the Old Jail, her phone chimed with a text, and she glanced down. “No.”
“What’s wrong?”
Madison had unfastened her seat belt when they stopped, and now she muttered as she clicked the metal in place. It almost sounded like she was counting to ten. “It’s my father. He’s bringingthatwoman to Grandfather’s house tonight.”
“Tell him you don’t have time. That the FBI is there.” He turned right at the next street and pointed the SUV toward the judge’s house.
“Good thought.” She quickly texted a message and groaned when there was a return text. “Now he’s suggesting we eat at Monmouth’s Restaurant 1818, and I didn’t bring dressy clothes. And he wants to know why the FBI is there.”
She typed out another text. “How does this sound? ‘Too much to text and the nicest outfit I have is my uniform. Let’s make this another time.’”
“Sounds fine, but why don’t you just tell him no?”
The text made a swooshing sound as she sent it. “I’ve neverbeen able to do that, mainly because he simply doesn’t accept it.” Another text dinged. “See,” she said. “He wants me to pick a place.”
“Just tell him no and don’t answer any more texts.”
“You don’t understand. Then he’d bring her to the house for sure. My father is used to getting his way—business, personal, whatever.”
Her cell phone rang and she rubbed her temples. “It’s him.”