Page 38 of Keeping Caroline

There was a grunt, then a loud thump in the background, and I did not need Ethan to tell me he’d been in the middle of an interrogation, and that whoever was in the room with him was no longer breathing. “Where? Can you pinpoint it?”

Zooming in on the screen, I scanned the maps and data. “I’m trying. The signal is coming from a heavily-wooded area northwest of here—near the state line. But it’s deep in the southern Appalachians, so from the map I can’t even make out any buildings or dwellings of any kind.”

“Text me the exact coordinates the second you have them,” he said, and then I heard him already moving, keys jangling. “I’m leaving New Orleans now. I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

When the call went dead, I turned to Scarlett, and there was an unspoken understanding between us before she nodded, pulling Evie closer to her. “Go,” she said, stepping away from the doorway. “Evie and I will be safe here. Bring our girl home.”

I was not an assassin like Ethan, or a violent person, but I knew how to shoot a gun, and I couldn’t sit around and wait five hours for Ethan to get back. Not when I knew where Caroline was.

Pulling Evie and then Scarlett into a hug, I did my best to settle the fire burning inside me just enough to process my thoughts. “I’m going to find her. I promise.”

Scarlett pulled away, her dark eyes glazed with unshed tears. “Be careful, Tristan. Don’t take any unnecessary risks. Scope the place out but wait for him to move. Please.”

Reaching for my bag, I shoved my laptop and a few other pieces of tech inside, not knowing what I would need. “I’ll be okay. I need to do this.” I glanced over at Evie, who was watching our exchange silently. “For her.”

Scarlett followed my gaze and nodded. “Hurry back. All of you.”

With one final look at Scarlett and Evie, I threw my backpack over my shoulder and headed out of the safe room, staying only long enough to hear the locks click into place.

When I was sure they would be safe, I headed into the room where Ethan kept his weapons. I grabbed a 9mm from the locker, checking the clip and sliding it into its holster before connecting it to my belt. I had spent enough time in a gun range blowing off steam to know how to use it, although I hoped I wouldn’t have to. With the gun secured, I armed myself with backup ammunition and a few more weapons, including two knives, and headed back up the stairs.

Doubt flitted through my mind as I checked the exterior cameras and motion sensors from my device, making sure no one was on the property before slipping out of the cabin and heading toward the barn where I had parked. Ethan expected me to stay at the cabin with Scarlett and Evie until he returned, but I did not stop walking. I knew he would probably be pissed that I’d left, and maybe I was doing the wrong thing, but I knew the cabin’s security measures would keep Scarlett and Evie safe. They would be fine without me there, but Caroline’s safety was not known. She needed me more, so even with Ethan’s instructions lingering in the back of my mind, I turned the key in the ignition and headed northwest.

Chapter 26

The Savior

The dingy walls of the safe house pressed in around me as I sat in front of the computer. I had already been there for a day, and aside from research, I felt no closer to finding my sister. Ivy’s files taunted me, a jumble of information on a thumb drive he had given me the last time I saw him that I knew could be entirely useless.

Sighing, I ran my hand through my hair, clicking through what was stored on the device. Everything around me reminded me of the man I was before I had met Scarlett—the ruthless assassin who ended lives without a second thought. Now here I was, trying to save a life…again.

My sister’s name echoed in my mind as I scanned the files, looking specifically for any mention of Delacroix’s known associates, headquarters, or hangouts. I could not listen from the shadows if I didn’t know where the remaining members of Delacroix’s gang were lingering.

So much guilt twisted in my gut as I thought about all the potential places and states of being my sister could be in. These men were monsters, and she was out there somewhere, in danger because of me, because I could not protect her. The one thing I did not think her captors had considered was that she had a bigger monster on her team, and her monster wasn’t fighting because of a payout… Her monster would destroy them because of love.

As I scrolled through the files and emails on Ivy’s thumb drive, I came across a bar near the port owned by a close friend of Delacroix, Marcel. According to Ivy’s notes, it was frequented by Delacroix’s men. It was a long shot, especially with the FBI sniffing around, but any lead was better than nothing.

Grabbing my keys and holstering my weapons, I rushed out into the muggy night air.

The streets of New Orleans were busy at such a late hour, but the closer I got to the port, the more the crowd thinned. The air was heavy, more so than just from the humidity. There was always a dark, macabre weight to New Orleans that crawled across your skin and sat on your shoulders to witness any despicable things you did under its influence. Some would say it was the spirits who gave it the reputation of being one of the most haunted cities in the country. But I did not believe in such things. Perhaps if I did, I would not have made a career out of leaving so many more ghosts in my wake.

Parking my car in an alley two blocks away, I pulled my hood over my head and slid my gun into my pocket. From where I was parked, I could see Marcel’s bar, a rundown building with neon signs flickering in the windows. There were a few motorcycles parked out front, as well as a few vehicles in the alley behind the building. People who were perhaps trying to stay off the radar…just like me.

Sixties and seventies rock blared from the jukebox inside the bar, the air filled with smoke and the smell of stale liquor. A few patrons lingered at the dimly lit bar while another handful sat at tables around the space. I felt their weathered faces watching me, but I did not meet anyone’s stare. The less people who saw my face the better.

Approaching the bar on the more shadowed side, I slid onto the bar stool, lifting my hand to order a whiskey, never looking the bartender in the face as he dropped off my drink and took my money. Instead, I scanned the room, listening in as snatches of conversations drifted to me, mentions of jobs, money, and trouble.

I sat there for a while, sipping slowly on the whiskey in my hand, not wanting it to dull my senses. There was a high chance that I was going to need my strength and my wits before the end of the night. A few more guys walked into the bar as I sat there, taking a seat at a table in the corner where a lone patron had been all night. Mere moments passed before a conversation started up that I was more than a little interested in.

“Heard there’s a bounty on that Prejean broad and her old man, Etienne. Fifty grand for the bitch, hundred for her father.”

My fingers tightened around the gun in my pocket, rage boiling in my veins at hearing them speak about my wife in that way. If I had time later, I intended to remove their tongues for daring to disrespect her.

I signaled the bartender for another drink, even though the one in my hand was still mostly full, using the motion to glance at the men in the corner. Although I could not tell if they were Delacroix’s thugs or just a couple of Cajun shit-talkers, it was clear in their body language that they believed everything they said, which made me think there must have been at least a flicker of truth to their claims.

“And that Italian who took over for Delacroix wants them alive, at least for now.”

Tossing a bill onto the bar, I stood, watching as one of the men at the corner table walked toward the back of the bar, heading toward the bathroom. “You have a good night now,” I said as I walked away, however I did not leave.

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