Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Mason

This has been the week from hell. Nothing bad has happened, but I've been away from Seattle for too long.

I only have five minutes to call Ainse. Her bright face appears within seconds. "Hi. You look even more beautiful than I remember."

"Hi, Mase!" She waves, then checks herself on the screen as if she's holding a mirror and pats her curls with one hand. "You look like you need a good night's sleep. My bed is waiting for you."

The voice she uses with the last sentence makes me want to jump on a plane and head home. Now.

"Are you coming back?"

"Not yet."

Her long lashes sweep down. The corners of her lips wither for a mere second before the bright face returns. "Soon. I have a few things to work out, but I'll be home."

Home. A foreign concept and the fact that I'm anxious to arrive there is also an unfamiliar thought. I'm usually out and about, barely touching base in Seattle. Not this time. I itch to reach home and see her.

This has been the longest seven days of my life. I went to Norway for the first three days to check on the construction of a new lab that will research new viruses and other illnesses. They need tight security, and I've been helping them with the design of the building to make sure nothing will escape, and no one can break-in. After that, I flew to Africa. A small consulting job to offer some ideas on how to control a new paramilitary group. What is it with these groups thinking they can train anyone to start a revolution? My last destination is Austin, where I'm meeting the hot shots of the FBI and the DEA.

"I miss you, too, so much I'm rushing and delegating. We'll see each other in a couple of days. No matter what time I arrive, I can make myself at home." I dangle the keys of her house. The ones she gave me the morning I left. "I promise to cook for you. We'll grill some steaks. How are things there?"

"I'm busy. Running around all day because the summer sessions at the music school are more than I expected." She flashes me an adorable grin. "My brothers can't handle little children. Their suffering is priceless. These are by far the funniest days of my adult life."

Her laugh is contagious. We speak about the new private lessons they started, which were Jacob's idea to spread the word about the school.

"I'm doing it for the art, unlike Jacob. You know my brother." I do. He likes to make money, which I can't complain about. He's my financial advisor and is building me a nice retirement fund. "I guess you can't tell me much about your week, huh?"

"Sorry, classified and boring." Each and every time we talk, I disappoint her with my half answers. "But we can discuss my plans for when I arrive home. You and me naked in your bed for days. How does that sound?"

"Hmm, it depends on when you arrive." She scratches the bridge of her nose. "Can you take a break, like a vacation?"

"Nine, I have to hang up." I arrive at the building where my meeting is, and the driver stops the car right in front of the main door. "Save that thought for later. Miss you, Nine."

"I love you, Ten," she whispers, blowing me a kiss before disappearing from my screen. The guilt of not having a response to her sweet words accompanies me outside the car.

Checking my watch, I realize the meeting started without me, but I'm confident Hawk is handling it. While I was out of town, Hawk continued investigating this new cartel.

He has names, investors, and many properties they have been using to store their inventory. He'd been working on a few names he couldn't trace and hoped to have answers by the time we met in Austin. Unfortunately, he arrived before I did and went into a meeting I'm about to interrupt. The room, upon entering, has a conference table in the middle and smells of old, burnt coffee.

Hawk's head bobs as he listens to Agent Grennaldi. Agent Bradford sits at the head of the rectangular table with crossed arms and a narrowed gaze on both men.

"So kind of you to join us, Bradley," he says as he checks his watch. "I should be thankful you don't charge by the hour."

"Bradley," Hawk nods toward the folder where the empty seat remains. "You can browse the file as I continue discussing our alternatives."

He lowers one eyelid slightly enough for me to know we have a problem. An issue I'll spot if I pay attention to the papers in front of me.

"These are a bunch of rich, influential people who believe their money will help children," Hawk informs them. "My investigation tracked the bank accounts of these benefactors, and all their donations are to help others around the world or within our own country. They happen to be famous politicians, celebrities, and powerful CEOs. That's the demographic these assholes targeted."

It doesn't sit well in the pit of my stomach. A copy of the list of beneficiaries is on top. Several names jump from the paper, but the one that immediately grabs my attention is Gabriel Colthurst. Fuck. This isn't good.

Behind that is a list of addresses where the cartel stores drugs, weapons, or their safe houses. There aren't many in the country, but my skin prickles when I come across one with a familiar address—here in Austin. The owner, Ainsley J. C. Decker.

I slam my fist on the table. Damn. I know who is behind this shit—or who's smeared the shit without even knowing what he did. Porter fucking Kendrick.

"Problem, Bradley?"

"Many of these are good people," I explain to them. "My father, who has a security business for celebrities, has worked with several of them."

Their eyes are focused on me. I spoke too soon and without a plan. I might've implicated my father because I didn't think about anything but how to get Ainse out of this shitty situation. For all they know, she's part of the cartel. Not that she'd do something like this. I need to think of a plan.

"I can make a few calls," I offer. "Find out more about the situation before we jump to conclusions and the lawsuits start flying your way. That's something none of us want. It'll cost the country a lot of money. About one of these properties, if you have the people, we can take care of it today."

Bradford stares at me and laughs. I ignore him and dial a phone number, placing the call on speaker.

"Forgot something, Bradley?" Her sweet voice is annoyed as hell. "People have work to do."

"Good afternoon, Miss Decker," I greet her. "I'm calling about a property located in the city of Austin. We need your permission to enter the house."

I recite the address from memory and request full access and the codes for the fences, alarms, and any other details she can provide to enter the premises.

"Let's be clear, the house isn't mine." Her serious voice sounds confused and angry. "Porter Kendrick owns it, and yes, I lived there for a couple of years. Nonetheless, I moved out more than three years ago. I've no doubt the place is abandoned, so I actually don't care. If you have to go in, be my guest. Go visit, inspect, and whatever. Porter should know more about it, though. If you excuse me, I have seven children waiting for me to start my class."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Nine: Did You just call me MA'AM? You better have a good explanation, or you'll be sleeping next door, Bradley.

Mase: Trust me, please.

Once we have Ainsley's authorization, we plan our next move. The FBI and DEA head to the house where they'll arrest, confiscate, and empty the property. I offer a few of my men to expedite the operation. I then ask them, once more, to grant me a few more weeks to find out the exact nature of the people who are financing this. They both agree and dismiss us, expecting answers soon. We head outside of the building, and I make my first call.

"Hello, Mason. What can I do for you?"

"More like what can I do for you, Dad," I respond. "Where are you, and are you with the Deckers?"

"Santa Barbara, but we're heading toward the compound," he responds. "Why? Is everything okay?"

"No, but we'll make it right, Dad," I respond. "See you soon, and maybe have them call their lawyer. They may or may not end up in jail."