Page 148 of Swept for Forever
I parked low behind a hedge on a street so quiet that it practically screamed money. His place had a gate, but it was useless when his wife was shouting loud enough to shake the lawn ornaments.
Susan had been right. Hell,Autumnhad been right about this man.
I’d come prepared, with binoculars, my Glock, and everything else I might need for surveillance, or worse.
From the cracked window of my truck, I tracked him through the lenses. Spears moved like a statue on rollers, historso turning, his neck stiff as rebar. That kind of damage doesn’t lie.
But whatever fight was happening behind those doors? It wasn’t about keeping someone hidden. It was too loud, too open. That wasn’t a hostage situation. That was a man losing control. Autumn couldn’t have been there.
Just then, Boone called.
“Sorry, Dom. Missoula PD won’t touch it. Without authorization, I’m tied up. The only way is through the Commissioner. And that’s pushing it too far.”
I ground my molars. Commissioner-level clearance wasn’t happening today. And I didn’t have days.
“So Spears didn’t even get looked into?”
“Sorry, Dom.”
I took his apology as permission, not that I needed it.
“Don’t be,” I said quietly. “I eat men like Allan Spears for breakfast.”
“Dominic Powell, you’re not in L.A. anymore.”
“Justice doesn’t care about my ZIP code,” I said. “And it sure as hell doesn’t clock out at five.”
“Dom—”
“I’m not gonna kill him.”
“That’s not exactly comforting.”
“Just making sure he stays alive. Alive and talking,” I said.
“Where are you?”
I hung up.
With my elbow braced on the window frame, I kept my eyes on the gate. Then the front door, the windows, and the empty driveway.
I glanced at my phone.
The lock screen still showed the photo we took that morning—me, Autumn, and Lulu in front of her mom’s house.
I had to get to her. Or I’d die. And I’d take the bastard with me.
Finally, Spears stormed out.
He disappeared into the garage, and a moment later, the door lifted to reveal a black Jeep rolling forward. There was no fancy chauffeur, just him behind the wheel, still mouthing curses.
The front gate began to slide open, but he didn’t wait for it to clear. He floored it, tearing down the street.
I followed from a distance.
He crossed town and headed toward one of his showrooms. He pulled into the lot, made a few calls, and disappeared inside. Twenty minutes later, he was moving again.
I stayed with him, close enough to track, but far enough to stay off his radar.
