Page 54 of Bad Rio

Both identical faces swiveled to their sister. John burst out, “Are you okay?”

“Shot!” James said. “What—what happened? We didn’t know.”

“Does Dad know about this?” John asked, scowling.

They both looked her up and down, but since she wore a white oxford shirt and black slacks, they couldn’t see a wound.

Becca stuffed an armload of clothing into a laundry hamper and sent Rio a frown. “I’m fine,” she told them. “It’s just a graze on my leg. Rio has a melodramatic way of blurting things out.” She closed the hamper lid. “And yes, Dad knows.”

In clipped tones, Rio told them the rest of the story: the kidnapping, the lack of ransom demand, even about Uncle Tim moving contraband in the warehouse.

In unison, both sank onto a leather couch. Their faces revealed shock, and, to Rio’s practiced eye, their innocence. They were young, naïve, and probably didn’t know what was happening right beneath their noses. He didn’t think they’d be much help.

“Have you two,” he asked, “seen anything different going on at your warehouse? Anything unusual at all?”

The boys exchanged glances. Rio noticed they did that a lot. It was beginning to annoy him.

James spoke first. “Seems like a lot of extra crates have been ordered by the shop foreman.”

John stroked his jaw. “You’re right. Crate orders have gone up.”

Rio tried not to jump on them. They weren’t stupid, but yeah, he’d nailed them from the outset: they were naïve. “Did either of you think to find out why the shop suddenly needed more crates?”

“Not really.” James scratched his armpit. “That’s Becca’s job and she was still out of town.”

Rio fought the urge to bash their heads together. Maybe they could be useful in another way.

Cutting to the chase, he asked them, “Either of you proficient with firearms? Do you own guns?”

Once again, they glanced at each other. John said, “We played paint ball one time.”

Rio raised his chin and stared at the ceiling. Becca had told him that their mother had passed years ago. Now, as he watched her rinse her brother’s dishes at the sink, he understood that she’d become the caretaker of the family.

She was the important center of both the familyandtheir business. It was increasingly apparent that the company was successful because of her. She was the linchpin.

No woman he’d ever been involved with before had such importance within her own world. The concept was outside his experience, and he needed a moment to process the alien notion.

And he was left with one thought: Becca was amazing.

“We’re digging for the truth now,” he told the boys. “So, don’t tip our hands. Go to work each day but say nothing to anyone else. Got that? Not a whisper.”

They both gave solemn nods.

Apparently neither would be of use in protecting Becca any more than their father. As he’d thought, his protective services were much needed. Still.

Becca needed a keeper.

****

Returning to his citypenthouse office, Harrison paced by the expansive window and studied the bustling traffic and people moving below. Concentrating hard, he barely saw them.

Rio Lang had become a problem.

It wasn’t unheard of, although unusual, for one of his own to turn from an asset into a liability. It happened. And he was philosophical about the matter. In his business, operators came and went. It was a difficult decision to make, because in terms of smarts, ingenuity, and just plain expertise, Rio Lang had been right at the top.

The man had gone off the reservation. He’d gone rogue. Harrison hadn’t heard from him in days and when he’d unexpectedly turned up at De Monte’s senate fundraising party, dragging Rebecca De Monte with him, it was obvious he would no longer follow Harrison’s orders. Now he knew too much. Clearly, a new element had come into play for Rio Lang, an ingredient as old as humanity itself.

The power of the pussy.

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