Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
J azz walked into her motel room and threw the keys to her rental car on the desk. She’d seen the OZ alert about the man in the next town over who had been fingered as the shooter. The “killer” had made it too easy for them. Ranting like an idiot on social media about how much you hated someone was never a good look, but when that person ended up murdered? A few planted clues, some doctored video, a quiet whisper to federal law enforcement, and voilà, a murderer was found.
Police had surrounded his home. Cornered and probably seeing no way out, the guy had reacted exactly how they’d likely predicted. The shootout had been massive and deadly. The supposed perpetrator was now dead, and as far as the world was concerned, Franco Bass’s homicide case was closed.
Option Zero knew better, and they were still on the case. Jazz knew better, too. Whoever the guy had been, he had not been the one to fire the bullet that killed Bass. She knew without a doubt that that man was Brody McAlister.
Since the case was closed, investigating under the radar would take a bit more stealth than usual. Especially since Xavier and Hawke would be asking the same questions. The last thing she wanted was to run into them. Explaining why she was still on the case would be impossible.
Her first order of business after grabbing her stuff from the suite she and Xavier had been sharing had been to rent a car and drive in the direction Brody had taken after the shooting. Though it seemed like a lame first step, she had wanted to get it out of the way. The thinking time had been good for her. She now had a plan of action.
A couple of hours ago, she had been fortunate to find a friendly, extremely chatty sous-chef named Hannah, who happened to be walking out LuLu’s back door seconds after Jazz had parked in the alley. The girl had been more than happy to sit down with a cup of coffee and a slice of pie at a nearby diner and share what she knew. Jazz got the impression the shooting was the most exciting event that had ever happened to Hannah.
In the midst of the conversation, she’d told Jazz that a member of their kitchen staff, a man who’d been working there for over two months, had disappeared right after the shooting, and the phone number he’d given was no longer working. Hannah was concerned that the shooting had traumatized him. After the vague description she gave of the man, named Brian Mitchell, it was obvious that Hannah would never hear from him again—and it confirmed to Jazz that the kitchen aide had indeed been her brother.
The fact that he’d worked at the restaurant for two months prior to Bass’s assassination was interesting but not that much of a surprise. The people behind the killing were definitely long-range planners. The minute Bass had signed up with the Wren Project, he’d had an expiration date.
She took a long breath and let her eyes roam the cheap, nondescript room. The motel was a no-frills and low-profile establishment, which was what she needed. It was also located across town from the restaurant, so there was no way she would run into anyone from OZ.
Earlier, she had scoured the internet for footage of the shooting. Thanks to modern technology and the age of social media, there were numerous videos of the event. She’d even found one with a three-second blip of her and Xavier at their table. She had sent Serena a text to let her know so it could be taken down. Serena had responded that she was already working on it.
Even though she and Xavier weren’t in hiding, it was never a good idea for any OZ member to appear on social media. Option Zero operated best under a cloak of anonymity, with all their operatives staying as low-key as possible.
Now, after her preliminary finding, she knew one thing for sure. She couldn’t do this alone. Brody, who had managed to stay off the radar all this time, now had more incentive than ever to stay hidden. He had to know she was looking for him, and based on the look he’d given her, he would not want her to find him.
She had only one choice. There was one person outside OZ who could give her the access she needed. The woman who’d saved her all those years ago and brought her into this life of intrigue.
Dropping into the chair by the window, Jazz grabbed one of her burner phones and punched in a series of numbers. Despite her wealth and influence, Kate Walker was all about secrecy and staying off the grid as much as possible.
“Jazz. It’s wonderful to hear from you.” Kate’s warm and welcoming voice always gave her heart a lift.
“How are you, Kate?”
“I’m good. Little project keeping me busy.”
That little project was the one they’d all been working on for over three years now. Kate was right in the thick of gathering intel on the Wren Project, the übersecretive organization they’d discovered almost by accident. It was the biggest operation OZ had ever taken on, and thankfully Kate, with her connections and wealth, was able to provide an enormous amount of assistance.
“Any progress?”
“Some. Not enough.”
That was all Kate was likely to give her. Talking about the Wren Project on an unsecure line was not a good idea.
“So what’s up with you?” Kate asked. “Talked to your boss, and he told me you saw an interesting event occur.”
Interesting in more ways than one.
“As a matter of fact, that’s why I’m calling, but I need you to keep this on the down-low. Will you do that for me?”
Jazz had never asked anyone to keep a secret. She had, in fact, deeply resented any secrets that had been kept from her by her OZ team members. And here she was doing it herself. But this couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t do what she needed without Kate’s assistance, and she couldn’t share this with the team. Not yet. Once she found Brody and was able to talk with him, then she would tell them everything. She could only pray they would understand.
“How low are we talking?” Kate asked.
Grimacing, Jazz said softly, “All the way.”
The pause that followed was justified. It was a big ask. Kate was not only a good friend to everyone at OZ, she was godmother to Jules and Ash’s son.
Jazz already owed Kate so much. She had no idea where she would be if not for Kate, or even if she would still be alive. Kate had found her on the street, fed, clothed, educated, and trained her. But Kate also knew that Jazz would never ask this of her without good reason.
Her tone businesslike and solemn, Kate said, “Call me back on my other line.”
“Understood.”
Ending the call, Jazz grabbed another burner and punched in the digits she’d memorized long ago.
Kate answered before the first ring ended. “What the hell, Jazz?”
“I know I’m asking a lot.”
“Yes, you are. What do you need?”
“The camera footage inside and outside the restaurant.”
There was only the slightest pause before Kate answered, “I can get you the footage that’s been posted on social media, but the cameras inside and outside the restaurant were disabled.”
That was a disappointment but not a surprise. With a professional hit like this, disabling the cameras was to be expected.
“Okay, any footage you can send me would be good. How about traffic cams?”
“Disabled for a three-block perimeter surrounding the restaurant.”
Also not a surprise.
“Can you send me camera footage outside that blockage? Maybe about five blocks?”
“Yes. Should I ask why?”
“It’s best if you don’t.”
She was already violating protocol by going to Kate directly for intel, and she refused to add to her sins by telling Kate about Brody being the shooter. This was her secret to keep for now.
“All right. What else do you need?”
“That’s it for right now.”
“Jazz, you know you can trust your team.”
“I know that, Kate. I just…” She shook her head, unable to explain without giving more information than she could. “I just need to do this on my own for right now.”
“All right. I’ve said my piece. I’ll send it to you within the hour. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Unable to continue the conversation because of the developing lump of emotion in her throat, Jazz said thickly, “Thank you, Kate.” She quickly ended the call before she did something stupid, like spill her guts.
Her stomach churning with acid, Jazz stared at the bland walls of the room, her mind racing with questions. What had changed Brody so much? Years ago, he’d been the most protective, loving, compassionate person anyone could imagine. He’d taken such good care of her.
She vividly remembered one particular event. She’d been thirteen years old and had gotten her first period. They were living above the strip joint by then, thankfully having escaped Arthur and his sleazy friends. It had been far from a good environment for two teenagers, but they had been safe from Arthur, and that had been their goal.
Telling Brody about her first menstrual period hadn’t been something she’d been prepared to do. She had put it off for as long as she could. But Brody had made it so easy for her once she’d worked up the courage to tell him. There had been the briefest moment of panic on his face, and then he’d covered it with his usual calm attitude and said in his matter-of-fact way, “No problem, Jazzy. What do you need?”
She had stumblingly told him what she thought she needed. Since she’d never purchased feminine hygiene products before, she had been mostly guessing. His face filled with purpose, he’d left. Within the hour he’d returned with pads, Midol, a heating pad she knew they couldn’t afford, and a little book that described the process. He confessed he’d found a sympathetic pharmacist who’d assisted him in getting her what she needed.
That was the brother Jazz knew and loved. Whatever she’d needed, he had provided. Even when they’d had almost no money and little hope for anything getting better, Brody had made sure she knew she could depend on him for anything.
And now, apparently, he was not only an assassin, but he also worked for the Wren Project.
She knew she’d set herself up for a monumental task. And even when she found her brother, he might not even be receptive to seeing her. That wouldn’t stop her from trying, though. She owed him this chance.
But first she had to find him.
Grabbing her laptop, she opened it and got to work. Two hours later, she had combed every inch of video footage Kate had sent her. It had been a bust. She thought she saw a shadow of a dark SUV about four blocks from the restaurant, but it had apparently been just a blip in the recording, because she could find it nowhere else.
She was rapidly learning how much she relied on Serena providing the intel she needed to do her job. She and Xavier were good investigators, but they worked with more intel than a half-thimble full, and that was exactly what she had.
Simultaneous hits of weariness and hopelessness almost swamped her. She hadn’t slept more than a few hours since she’d seen Brody. And though her nerves made her queasy, she knew she needed food to keep her going.
With more determination than energy, she grabbed her keys and wallet. She’d find an all-night diner and get some sustenance. Even if she ate only a few bites, getting out of this room would give her a new perspective.
On the way to the door, she glanced in the mirror where a petite, pale girl with big brown eyes, short, black hair, and a smattering of freckles stared back at her. No one would recognize her as the sophisticated woman from two nights ago. She enjoyed dressing up as much as the next girl, and wearing designer clothing that cost more than a year’s worth of groceries was always fun, but it wasn’t her. She usually dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and her favorite sneakers. For years, she’d had almost nothing, and though she could now have just about anything one could buy, material things still didn’t mean much to her. She still lived simply, and when it came to clothes, comfort was key.
An unusual flash of insecurity hit her. She had been attracted to Xavier for years, but he’d never given her any idea he’d thought of her as anything other than his OZ partner and a good friend. Though she had often ached to tell him how she felt, she’d known it would not only change their partnership forever, but if he didn’t reciprocate the attraction, it would likely destroy their friendship. So she had never tried to pursue anything and had gone to great pains to hide her feelings. Until the other night.
When he’d appeared, looking like a bearded and sexier version of Henry Cavill, she had almost swooned. Hiding her thoughts had been nearly impossible. But then she’d seen the gleam of attraction in his eyes and totally forgotten about caution. But now she was questioning that. Had his attraction been because of how she’d looked that night? How she’d been dressed so glamorously? Xavier wasn’t a shallow, superficial man, but he had never acted that way with her before.
She scrunched her nose at her plain reflection. Maybe she should start taking more pains with her appearance.
At that thought, she rolled her eyes. She had a thousand and one things on her mind. Being concerned with how attractive she looked should be the least of her worries.
Giving herself one last glance, she opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement. Uneasiness hit her in a flash. With her hand still on the door, she swiped her keycard to return to her room. A rush of air blew across her skin, and she knew she was too late.
Ready to meet the danger head on, she whirled around. The four large men standing before her gave her pause.
She was in major trouble.