Page 49 of Hell or High Water

Than

I gripped the back of the seat that Ransom was sitting in while going over the security footage. This was the third time we’d sat here and watched it.

The first time, I’d thought that I was right. There was no one near my truck all day until Montana walked to get her hair tie. However, Ransom caught something, and we watched it a second time. He paused it to zoom in so that we could see the blue heart-shaped letter on the seat. He’d then rewound it to show me the frame before, and there was no blue letter.

This time, we watched it closer with him watching the right of the screen and me watching the left for anything that stood out. Ransom paused it several times and went back to rewatch something. I didn’t know what it was he was seeing because I saw fucking nothing. But then Montana sitting in the chair over in the corner of the room, still pale and being so fucking quiet, was making it hard for me to concentrate.

“There,” he said and pointed at the screen.

“What?” All I saw was the fucking whiskey barrels waiting to go inside.

“How many are there?” he asked.

Why were we doing math?

“Thirty,” I said, annoyed. I knew how many because the extra order had come in yesterday and thirty of them had been delivered.

“Right, and”—he pressed play, then pause immediately—“now how many are there?”

The end closest to the entrance of the distillery had less barrels than the second before.

I counted. “Twenty-six.”

“Yet we don’t see anyone take them,” he pointed out.

The tips of my fingers bit into the leather on the chair. “Motherfucker,” I hissed.

Ransom glanced up at me. “This isn’t some kid with an obsession. This was done by a professional. One who knew how to break into our security and pause the cameras for a certain amount of time.” He turned back to the screen.

Who the fuck was stalking her?!

We had the best security that money could buy. It was on all our homes and businesses. Wilder Jones—the computer genius in the family who lived in Ocala and worked directly with the boss—had made sure that what we all used was something others couldn’t hack into.

“I’m leaving,” she said, breaking her silence.

My head swung in her direction as she stood up.

“I can’t stay here or at Linc’s. It’s not safe for anyone, and I didn’t come here to bring danger. Linc has a wife and a little girl.”

I let go of the chair and stalked over to stop her before she reached the door.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I told her with more aggression than necessary. I took a breath, then tried again. “Listen, we aren’t scared of this guy. We can find him now that we know what we are working with. He might be a pro, but we have the means to a better one.” I glanced back at Ransom. “Call Linc and tell him. We need Wilder to go over this footage.”

Ransom’s gaze went from Montana to me. I didn’t like the expression on his face. I knew that look.

“I need to talk to you—alone,” he told me.

Fine. He wanted to do the older-brother-talk shit. I didn’t need his advice or counsel. I’d call Linc myself. I opened my mouth to tell him that whatever he wanted to tell me, he could say in front of Montana, but decided she might not need to hear it. She was already shaken up enough. If Ransom was going to say anything to upset her more, I didn’t want her in here.

“I need to go make sure all my school assignments for today are put in the right place and submitted,” she told me. “I’ll just stay there until you’re ready to go.”

Reluctantly, I nodded.

“I won’t be long,” I assured her.

She gave me a small smile that didn’t meet her eyes, then left the room. I closed the door behind her.

No longer having to control my expression, I turned and glared at my brother. “If you’re about to tell me—”

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