Page 11 of The Boss

Chuckling, I lifted a single eyebrow. “As in the world.”

“O-kay. Anything else?”

“I also need a recent photograph of Winslow and Dottie from Boston, Massachusetts. A family photo if you can find one.”

“Why? Who are they?”

Nico hadn’t been around when they’d last visited.

“Just do it. I’ll take it from there.”

He eyed me warily and nodded. “What happened to your knuckles?”

I held up one hand. “Nothing that matters.”

As I walked back inside, I felt another round of rage setting in. If Shane Winters was the man who’d killed my brother, it wouldn’t matter if my friendship to Gregory was destroyed. I would kill Shane with my bare hands.

As I said: blood was thicker than water.

I headed for the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and moving to the bank of windows. Avenging my brother’s death was necessary, not only for the organization but for the family. But in doing so, I would break a trust. It was the thing I swore I’d never do.

A heavy sigh filled my chest.

Life was full of complications.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to go down memory lane if for no other reason than to try to fathom if it was possible Shane had become the Stalker.

“Boss.”

I had to give it to Nico. He was damn good at following through with discovery. One of the best in the business. He’d returned barely fifteen minutes later with answers.

“I found them. The Winterses rented the villa five days ago. I checked the airlines and they flew in with their daughter.”

“Any sign of Shane?”

“His travel plans took me a little longer. He flew into Bulgaria from Rome about a week ago. From there, I have no clue.”

Bulgaria. From the bordering country, he could had driven across the border and taken a train all the way to Athens. If necessary, I’d have the rails checked later.

“That means he’s here in Athens.” My gut was never wrong.

“You don’t know that yet.” Nico was insistent, although he knew I never went off on tangents.

I laughed. “Yes, I do. I can feel his pungent presence. Check the Bulgarian news reports for any recent unclassified murders. Also have some men patrol the borders and the main airlines. I want that man flagged if he attempts to leave the country.”

“Okay, boss. I’ll put some men on it, but it will stretch our ranks.”

“I don’t give a shit. What about a photograph?”

“This is from five years ago. I guess Mr. Winslow won some award in Boston. That’s all I could find and it’s not the best photograph.”

As he handed me his iPad, I noticed the grin on his face. The picture was slightly fuzzy, but it allowed me a more recent look at their appearances. What drew me in was the young woman standing next to her father. Willow. Why did her face seem so familiar? “What else? I can tell you found something you’re eager to tell me.”

“Atticus spent time checking the surveillance tapes. I was in the club for a few hours last night.”

“And?”

“Take another look at the girl in the photograph.”

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