Page 129 of Bling

His mind was reeling as he stepped away to call Jeff, his driver, and the head of his warehouse security team.

If Darren was dead, that meant Maddox was tying up loose ends. Whatever his master plan had been either failed, or Garrett just didn’t know the extent of the damage he’d done yet. He was praying for the former to be the case.

“Mr. Oliver,” a husky voice came over the line. “What seems to be the trouble, Sir?”

“Do you have guards stationed at the warehouse still?”

“Yes, Sir. I believe so.”

“You believe so or you know so? I’m paying you to know.”

The man sighed. “Let me check in with the team, Sir.”

Garrett glared at nothing as he waited for the man to return to the call.

“Sir, I have the warehouse team lead on the line with us. Tell Mr. Oliver what you just told me, John.”

John cleared his throat. “Sir, at around nine-thirty this evening, we received a phone call from you telling us to secure the property and go home for the night and that you would have a fresh assignment for us tomorrow.”

Garrett clenched his fist. “I don’t know who you spoke to, John, but it wasn’t me.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Sir. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“And I’ll be getting to the bottom of your incompetence,” he bit out. “The police are at my hotel and would like to talk to you.”

Stalking back to the officers, he said, “Gentlemen, my head of security and the two-man crew that was supposed to be at the warehouse tonight will be here within the hour. It seems someone pretending to be me called and told them to stand down just after nine.”

Both officers were scrambling to write down what he said.

“I need to excuse myself to make a few phone calls and get my security shored up, but I’ll also provide phone records, security footage, whatever you need.”

“That’s much appreciated, Mr. Oliver. If you would redirect your staff to the police station, we have a couple of stops we need to make before we interview them.”

Garrett agreed and sent a text to all three members of his security team.

Back upstairs in his room, he dialed Lance’s number.

“Jesus, man. It’s three in the morning.” Lance didn’t sound like he’d been asleep, though.

“Tonight, at around nine my time, someone pretending to be me called my security team and told them to pack up and go home for the night. Do you have any way of telling if that call came from the same number we’ve been tracking?”

Lance said something incoherent to someone in the background. “I’ll go check and see if I’ve gotten any alerts. The one God damn night I bring a woman home you have to call and interrupt me.”

Garrett highly doubted him bringing a woman home was a rare occurrence.

“Please forgive me,” he said sarcastically. “Your dick getting sucked is so much more important than the murder investigation currently happening at my warehouse.”

“Not Isabelle,” Lance said, sobering quickly.

“God no. Do you think I would be this fucking calm if it were Isabelle?”

“Sorry buddy, you don’t exactly seem calm. Who’s the unlucky victim then?”

“Victim my ass,” Garrett bit out. “Former employee of mine. The one who slashed Isabelle’s tires and beat the shit out of her uncle. Do you have anything for me yet?”

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor. Have a little patience,” Lance muttered.

“Sorry. I’m just uptight.”

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