Page 56 of PenPal Hero

She promptly burst into tears, sobbing noisily as she dialed her boyfriend.

Holt picked up on the second ring. “Hello? Who is this?”

“Me,” she choked. The word was barely intelligible.

“Bonnie!” His agonized voice filled her ear. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” She sniffled loudly. “And I’ll be okay just as soon as my awful brother brings me home.”

“Are you hurt?” His voice cracked.

“Not physically.” She was festering with homesickness, though, and dying to see him again.

“Can you at least describe where you’re at?” he begged.

“Not without Jackson doing me bodily harm.” She closed her eyes, tipping her face to the ceiling. “He’s convinced we’re still in danger.”

“You are,” Holt said quickly. Lowering his voice, he added. “Summer Rose Gardener is one of the orphans, babe. Not sure if she even knows. It’s anyone’s guess what triggers Real Sons might’ve programmed into her.”

Bonnie felt her insides go icy. She didn’t dare look at Summer Rose. “It’s so good to hear your voice,” she quavered, trying not to start crying again. “Oh, and Jackson was apparently hired by our parents to be my personal watchdog. Not that it in any way excuses the whole evil dictator thing he has going on?—”

“That’s enough.” Jackson plucked the phone out of her hand. “Holt, you’ve got one minute to tell me anything you can to help me keep her safe.” He listened for a few seconds, then handed the phone back to Bonnie. “Thirty seconds,” he informed her in a no-nonsense tone.

She ultimately decided not to test him on this issue. She was too grateful to finally make contact with Holt. “I love you and miss you like crazy,” she informed him in a tremulous voice.

“If it’s even half as much as I love and miss you, babe…” His voice hitched.

As they said their goodbyes, tears streamed down Bonnie’s face. “Text me,” she begged. “Even when the phone is off. I’ll get your messages the next time we turn it on.”

“Babe, I’ll be your pen pal until the end of time,” he promised huskily.

The next morning

Holt marched into Foster Kane’s office at K&G Security. He didn’t have an appointment. All he did was knock to announce his presence before pushing the already open door wider.

“Use me as bait,” he begged.

Foster glanced up from his computer, looking surprised. “I’m listening.”

“Bonnie called me from a burner phone. She’s fine,” he explained in a rush. “So are Jackson and Summer Rose. And now that they’ve made contact, our enemies in the shadows have a way of tracking them…through me,” he finished triumphantly. He had no intention of leading the creeps to Bonnie, but he would happily fool them into thinking he was doing exactly that. Instead, he would lead them into a trap.

“We still don’t know why they want her,” Foster mused, sitting back in his chair to study Holt.

“It’s gotta have something to do with their mind control efforts.” Holt waved a hand. “Maybe Bonnie needs a tune up of some sort. A re-programming, so to speak.” That was his current theory, anyway. They’d used her to get their hands on the warehouse, just like they’d used him to hustle stolen vehicles through his auto detail shop.

“I’ll run your idea past the sheriff,” Foster promised. “Right after he and his team arrest Jett Briggs.”

Holt was taken aback. “I thought they were watching him to gather intel about his higher ups.”

“They have been, and they’ve made no progress for weeks.” Foster abruptly stood. “I’m not sure I agree with their strategy, but they’ve decided to give that string a big yank to see what shakes loose.”

A few hours later, Jett Briggs and three of his employees were brought in for questioning. Before nightfall, Jett was charged with multiple counts of car theft.

Or so the public news release stated.

It was an anticlimactic, disappointing arrest. Over the next twenty-four hours, nobody came to bail him out. No one so much as tried to contact him, signifying he was a dead end.

Expendable.

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