My silence answered for me.
“I’m a sixty-year-old retired FBI agent with more romance and game than you.”
“Oh, shut it, and Roman doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body so we’re a good pair.” I noticed Fenn’s vehicle and pointed. “There! There’s Fenn in the gray minivan.” We pulled into the empty back parking lot. The space was only ever used for random storage and landscape equipment.
“Fennick Spade drives aminivan?” Milo asked skeptically.
“Yes. He says it’s the best all-purpose vehicle he’s ever owned. It’s probably better not to ask what he means by all-purpose.”
We pulled up next to Fenn. “How far behind?” he asked.
“Maybe thirty seconds,” Milo answered.
“Park in the middle of the lot.” Then Fenn rolled up his window and backed his vehicle to the side of the entrance.
When the Mercedes approached the parking lot, the driver zeroed in on Milo and me sitting in the large SUV in the middle of the lot. As they drove through the entrance, Fennick gunned his minivan and plowed it into the white Mercedes’ passenger side where my father sat. The stunned surprise on his face almost made me laugh.
Before the driver could recover, Kilian stepped out and put two bullets in his skull, then turned his gun on my father. It happened so fast and with such precision that I knew they’d done this before.
Less than an hour later, Montgomery Cross–a prominent federal district court judge–sat in the same chair in Ezra’s office that my mother had occupied about a month ago. He’d been stripped down to his blue silk boxers and tied to the chair. Kilian had also given Montgomery and his driver’s phones to Declan to create a false trail. My father still had a haughty, aloof look on his face, like he thought he’d be walking away unharmed and just needed to bide his time.
Ezra sat at the edge of his desk, looking down at the man. “Hello, Monty. How’s your bid for a Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals judgeship going?”
Montgomery smiled coldly. He hated being called Monty. “Hello, Ezra. It’s going well. How’s your mortuary business and your sprawling, hooligan family?”
“We’re fine, and my family is better now that you won’t be sending any more nasty surprises our way. Do you happen to know who the men standing behind you are?”
Montgomery awkwardly twisted his head around to look at Roman and Drakos. He already knew Fenn and Kilian. Shrugging, he turned back around. “I believe one of these thugs is my estranged daughter’s new husband.”
I shook my head at him calling us estranged. Since he’d tried to kill me–twice–I thought of us as more like mortal enemies.
Ezra’s lip twitched. “That’s partially correct. Let me introduce you to Roman Fowler and Drakos Creed. They’re law partners in a rather… famous firm here in Las Vegas. The other partners couldn’t make this impromptu meeting, but they’ll be here later. I’ll let Roman and Drakos fully introduce themselves.”
Roman stepped beside my father and looked down at him. “Hello, Monty. I’m the thug who married your daughter. Do you know who else I am?”
Montgomery stared up at him disdainfully. “No. Should I?”
Putting his foot on the side of the chair, Roman slowly pushed it over and sent it crashing on its side. My father’s eyes went wide, and when the chair hit the floor, the side of his head cracked against the marble tile floor.
Roman squatted next to him. “I’m also one of your former guests at Bitter Creek Ranch Academy. You remember that hell hole, don’t you, Monty? The facility you and your partners touted as one of the most effective reform academies in the United States?”
Montgomery’s eyes went wide, and for the first time, I saw fear in his eyes.
“That’s right, you spineless, psychotic prick. My partners and I are all former inmates. And your old employees gave us several ideas about what to do with you before we let you die.”
Roman stood and looked down at the man. “Did you know it’s your brother who’s fucking your wife?”
Montgomery went still, then turned his head to look up at Roman. “You lie. Oh, I know she’s having an affair, but my brother would never do that.”
Drakos straightened off the wall and stepped forward. “We intercepted a phone call a while back.” He pulled out his phone and played the recording. We listened to my mother and Alistair discuss how to steal from Montgomery, and he blanched when he heard his brother call his wife darling. When the recording ended, my father looked shell-shocked for a moment. Then he started bargaining.
“I have money. I can transfer it to your accounts in mere hours.” No one answered him, and his voice rose. “I’m a federal district court judge, for Christ’s sake. Do you think they won’t come looking for me? There’ll be a manhunt like you’ve never seen.”
Roman smiled coldly. “We’re not worried. You’re going to send a suicide text to your wife, describing how you couldn’t go on when you found out she and your brother were having an affair behind your back, and they planned to run away together.”
Montgomery started panting and begging. “Let me go, and I swear I won’t tell anyone about this. I’ve got money in accounts all over the world. You’ll be rich beyond anything you could earn as an attorney or even a judge,” Montgomery pleaded in a shaky, scared voice. I stared down at him, and some of my bone-deep fear of him dissipated. He looked old and scared, laying there on the floor.
Roman stood back and casually kicked the man in the guts. “That’s for eleven-year-old Luna. You’re finally figuring out who has you, and what’s going to happen to you over the next few hours before you die broken and alone in your own blood and waste. Sylvie has a special casket picked out just for you. It’s soundproofed, and you’ll be buried alive out in the cemetery where you chased down your own daughter earlier today.”