Page 78 of Gone Too Far

Sadie slid her cell into her back pocket. “What warehouses do you mean?” She hadn’t spoken to Falco or Devlin today.

“The ones I lease down by the port. Like you, they were attempting to come up with a reasonable scenario for why my sister flies into Birmingham each month. God knows it isn’t to see me.” She removed the page from the notepad upon which she’d written the description and handed it to Sadie. “I passed along what you discovered about her monthly visits. Like you, they seemed to think it was worth a follow-up.”

“I’ll give Falco a call and see what—if anything—they found.”

A knock on the door drew Sadie’s attention there. “I’ll get it. It’s probably Barton.”

She checked the peephole, and it was him. After opening the door, Sadie stepped onto the porch. “Did you get a hit on the guy’s license plate?”

Luckily Barton had captured the plate number in a pic on his cell. He had a friend at the DMV who helped him out at times like this.

“Darius Washburn. Forty, lives on—”

“I know who he is.” Fury detonated in Sadie. “He’s one of the people my father hires when he needs something outside the law taken care of.” Sadie gritted her teeth to hold back the litany of things she would love to say about the bastard.

“You want me to pay him a visit?”

Sadie shook her head. “I’ll do it. You stay with Naomi until Angelo gets here to pick her up. She’s taking a little vacation. As soon as she’s off, I want you to search this house top to bottom. Whatever Darius was here for, I want it.”

“Will do.”

Sadie reassured Naomi once more that she would be in good hands, and then she headed for Eighteenth Street.

DEA Field Office

Eighteenth Street

Birmingham, 4:15 p.m.

Beyond the intimidating fence and the fortresslike security, the old man’s office was on the third floor of the austere building.

Security always looked at Sadie suspiciously and called the special agent in charge’s assistant before allowing her up. This ensured her father—if he was in the office—would be ready and waiting for her.

She hated that part.

Surprise visits were always the best.

Catching him off guard was a difficult thing to do.

Rather than board the elevator, Sadie took the stairs. He would be braced for all hell to break loose. She hadn’t come to his office in a really long while. The last time, she’d been so angry about the way he’d stuck his nose in her personal business she’d swiped all the shit off his desk and then walked out.

She wasn’t sure what she could do now—without a weapon—to top the look on his face when his papers and other crap had flown across the room. His assistant had hovered outside the door, prepared to call security on his command.

Security had not been called.

Mason Cross wouldn’t have wanted the embarrassing episode to leak beyond his office area.

Instead, he’d asked Sadie to leave and return when she had calmed down.

Sadie hadn’t gone back. That was maybe fifteen months ago. Once in a while he showed up at her door. She didn’t answer. Why would she? She wanted nothing from him. Not his advice, his pretense at affection, or any damned thing else.

“Good afternoon, Sadie,” Francine Wright said as Sadie entered her domain—the small lobby outside her father’s office. “He’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks.” She had nothing against the woman. Wright couldn’t help that she worked for an asshole.

Sadie opened the door and walked into the boss’s office.

“Sadie, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Smiling broadly, he skirted his desk, arms open as if he intended to hug her.

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