Page 21 of Protecting Bianca

“You know I hate it when you call me that.” I did, so I smiled.

“What’s up?”

“I’m checking in to see how it’s going with the Towers’ case.”

“Sort of like what a boss would do?”

He swore under his breath. Will didn’t check-in because of business. He usually wanted to make sure we were all right. He was the sort of guy who would give you the shirt off his back. But I still liked teasing him. “Another threat was made, but the security guard stopped it before it was delivered. The safety measures are working, but this guy isn’t deterred.”

“Mmm…”

“Cops are checking the weapon for prints, and I’m running the delivery guy’s face through some programs now.”

“All right. Let me know if you need my help for anything. Don’t run into any burning buildings or anything like that without me.”

I grinned wider because I knew Will wasn’t kidding. We had a knack for getting ourselves into a bit of heat, and Will and I had just barely escaped from a burning house a few months ago. I wish I could say it would be the last time, but we both knew it wasn’t.

“Will do, brother.” I was just about to hang up when I remembered something. “Oh, and by the way, we had a really good month in the stock market. That mushroom company I asked you all to invest in a few months ago just had a breakthrough and released its findings to the media. As soon as they published their results, their stock went nuts.”

“How did we do?”

“We did well.” We could each buy ten homes in Manhattan with what we just made on this one stock.

“Mmm. That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“You know we appreciate you for more than the financial tips you give us, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

“Mmm. Doesn’t sound like you do.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Okay. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Good night, Will.”

“Night, Jager.”

After ending the call, I stared at my phone. I knew my brothers had my back and appreciated me. But they knew me after I joined the army, once I’d turned my life around. In some ways, it felt like they didn’t know the whole of me like Bianca and River did.

I pushed off my chair and went to make myself a sandwich. I skipped dinner before going to meet with River. My stomach had been in knots and while it still wasn’t settled, at least making a sandwich kept me busy.

I’d just torn off a crisp piece of lettuce when my computer pinged.

Leaving my unfinished sandwich on the counter, I walked back to my desk. The screen lit up and two photos, side by side, popped up. One was the delivery guy, and the other was a mugshot of a man who looked very much like him. He had the same eyes and a scar on his eyebrow.

I clicked on the mugshot, and it pulled up the New York City Police report. The man had been arrested for possession of marijuana three years ago, but the case had been dropped by the District Attorney’s office.

The man’s name was Gregory Spencer, and he lived at 22 Oaks Road, just east of downtown.

Checking the time on the bottom right hand of my screen, I wondered if eleven was too late to pay someone a house call. Probably. But it wasn’t too late for a stakeout. I wouldn’t get any sleep, anyway.

I finished my sandwich, grabbed my jacket and keys, and headed out the door.

Despite the late hour, there was still a pile-up of cars down Park Avenue. Manhattan never slept. I could relate.

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