25. Kavanaugh

25

KAVANAUGH

"I'm just saying, we could have gone to the Caribbean. Why do we have to get sent to Wisconsin?"

Red sighed heavily as we turned down the road to Claire's house. "Because it's what Cash asked us to do."

"Correction, it's what Jack asked us to do," Eli said.

I was so fucking tired of everything in the United States right now. All I wanted was some fun in the sun, but of course, that was left for Fox and his crazy band of goons. "Maybe I should find a wife."

"Because if you find a wife, you won't get sent to Wisconsin?" Red retorted.

"Because if I find a wife, I can take a vacation to the Caribbean."

"Or you could just go on vacation."

"By myself?" I asked him. "That reeks of desperation."

Eli chuckled in the back seat. I spun around and glared at him. "What are you laughing at?"

"Just the fact that you don't realize that when a single man goes on vacation to a beach, he usually hooks up with desperate women looking for a good time."

"Yeah, because a desperate woman is every man's dream."

"I have to agree with him," Red said. "If I was single and went on vacation, I would go somewhere I could meet the ladies."

That was such a lie. Red was the last person in the US who would be found on a beach. He was more likely to be found in the woods up in a tree fort.

"That's beside the point. I was simply pointing out that because Fox is Fox, he always gets the good jobs."

"Uh, I think he got the job because Max is a pilot," Red pointed out.

"Besides, aren't you dying to know what's going on with Cash and his daddy?"

I grimaced at the terminology. "Please don't ever call this guy Cash's daddy."

"And his stepmom," Eli added. "Fucking hell, after all this time, we're finally going to get to hear all about the drama of the Owens family."

Red stopped in front of a log cabin and we all stared at the massive house. "This is it?" I asked.

"No," Red snapped. "I drove down the driveway just to see who lived here. The real house is five miles down the road."

"You know, you're kind of a bastard on long trips."

"It's because I had to listen to you bitch for the last five hours about how you should be in the Caribbean right now."

I groaned in frustration, pushing the button to open the sliding door, and found yet another thing to bitch about. "Fucking minivan. I can't even slam the door! Why does everything have to be automated?"

"I can see you enjoyed your drive," Jack said as he walked over to us.

"Yeah, it was fucking great," I snapped. "Tell me again why I'm here instead of in the Caribbean?"

"Because this is where the job is. Get your shit unpacked. We've been up all fucking night."

As he turned away, I mouthed what he said mockingly. He spun around suddenly, narrowing his eyes at me, but I stopped the moment he faced me. I quirked an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to say something. Instead, he got back to his post.

"Fucking J's," I muttered, stomping to the back of the van. I grabbed two bags of gear and hauled them to the front door. Cash was waiting just inside with a cup of coffee that I desperately wanted. Red was so insistent on us arriving right on time that he refused to stop for fucking fuel. I was on my last nerve, and not all due to the fact that I hadn't had coffee, but because I was in fucking Wisconsin.

"How was the trip?" Cash asked.

"Fucking peachy. You know, we're going to have a talk about who gets what job."

He glared at me. "Upstairs on the left."

"Sure, whatever."

I nodded to the couple at the breakfast table, assuming they were Cash's father and the stepmom. Maybe I should be more interested, but I was getting grumpy as hell. After what felt like an hour, we were all unloaded and ready to take over for Jack's team.

I headed into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, but as I picked up the carafe, Red snickered beside me. "All empty. I'm afraid I got the last cup."

I took a deep breath, trying not to lose my shit. "It's fine. I'll just make more."

"Actually, there's none left," Cash's father said as he walked into the kitchen. "Michael Gage."

I stared at the outstretched hand and thought for just a second about ignoring him, but I wasn't normally a rude person. I was just having a bad day. "Kavanaugh."

"Just Kavanaugh?" he grinned.

"Brad."

"Right. Well, I'll pick some up when I'm in town."

Cash walked into the room, shaking his head. "No, you need to stay here. What if Isabelle calls?"

"She never calls until after noon. Besides, I need to get Claire out of the house and get her mind off all this. Waiting around now that we have a plan is going to kill her. We'll stop by the animal shelter. It should help."

"So, no coffee anytime soon." I nodded. Yep, that figured.

"I'll get you some fucking coffee," Cash snapped.

"If somebody had stopped on the way?—"

"Jesus, you're like a woman on her rag," Red muttered. "Zoe's not as cranky as you and she has three kids!"

He stomped away and I called after him, "I bet you don't take the last cup of coffee when Zoe's with you!"

A hand landed on my shoulder and I nearly jumped as I turned to face Cash. "Would you relax? I said I would get you a cup."

"Just a cup? Would you get Eva just a cup? How the fuck am I supposed to work when we've been driving all night and there's no fucking coffee?"

Cash looked at me funny. "Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be alright?"

"Because you're never this much of an ass."

"Maybe I just want some fucking coffee."

"Okay," Michael chuckled. "I think I'll grab Claire and head out. We'll be home before noon."

"I'll get your coffee," Cash muttered.

"And scones. I'm fucking starving."

He muttered under his breath and headed for the door. It wasn't too much longer before Claire came downstairs with Michael in tow. Jack appeared in the doorway, glaring at me.

"What the fuck did I do to you?"

He stalked over to me, pressing a monitor into my hands. "We're going into town with Michael and Claire. You've got control of the monitors. Don't fuck it up."

"Yeah, like it's that hard," I muttered, looking at the screen. I flipped through all the different camera angles, finding it was all pretty straightforward. As everyone left, Red took over.

"Alright, Kavanaugh, you've got the front. Eli and I will take the sides and back of the house. Call it in if you see anything."

"Really? I thought I'd just keep that to myself."

"Fuck, it was one cup of coffee. Let it go!"

I stomped down the steps of the house and headed toward the road. It was quiet out here and we were surrounded by trees. I would almost say it was peaceful, except I needed my fucking coffee. How far would Cash have to go to get it for me? Was civilization far away? I was itching for a cup, but a gallon would be better.

I distracted myself by finding every weak point around the property and cataloging it in my mind. When that wasn't enough, I decided to irritate my team by texting them everything I found. Red was sending me back angry emojis. He was all about full coverage and not leaving weak spots, but my constant texts were irritating the hell out of him.

I chuckled as I sent the last one. Man, he was going to throttle me by the time this job was over. I was just putting away my phone when a van pulled down the driveway.

"We've got incoming. Baddies in the driveway. Baddies in the driveway! Single white van. No front plates." I ran closer, pulling my weapon as the vehicle approached. "No markings on the van. I'm stopping them at the gate."

"On our way," Red announced.

"Out of the van!" I shouted, pointing my gun right at the windshield. "Get out of the van right now!"

The van screeched to a stop and the driver slowly raised his hands. I couldn't see jack shit from this angle.

"Open the door slowly!"

The man stared at me with wide eyes, then slowly reached for the handle. The door opened and he stepped out in a tan jumpsuit.

"How many more of you are there?"

"Only one," he said, his body visibly trembling.

"Where is he?"

"In—in the back."

"Get on the ground right fucking now!" I shouted.

"P—please don't shoot."

"On the fucking ground!"

He quickly complied, dropping to his hands and knees, then laying out flat.

"How many?" Red shouted as he ran up to me.

"One in the back."

"We've got him. Take care of this guy."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I figured that out even without my coffee."

Red and Eli ran to the back, prepared to take the second man. I quickly zip-tied the first man, then patted him down for weapons. He was clean, but that didn't mean he didn't have a shitload of weapons stored in the back. I nodded to Red as I took up a position at the front of the van, just in case he decided to come through the front.

Red swung the door open and Eli charged, but all I heard were the pathetic whimpers of whoever was back there. "Get your ass out now!"

Red grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the van, throwing him to the ground. Eli quickly patted him down, but he was clean. I marched back over to the first man, hauling him to his feet.

"Who sent you?"

"What?"

"Who the fuck sent you?"

He stared at me with wide eyes. "Um…Roberto."

"Roberto," I scoffed, dragging him along beside me. I got him to the nearest tree, then threw him against it. "Who is this Roberto?"

"Um…"

"Last fucking name. Who is he?"

"Roberto…Sanchez."

"Fucking figures. How does he know Zavala?"

"Who?"

"Ebarardo Zavala. How the fuck does he know him? Is he in trade?"

"Trade…"

"Is he a distributor?"

"No, I swear!"

"Sales?"

"I guess… you could say that," the man whimpered. "Please, I just came here to do a job!"

"So did I, asshole."

I slammed my fist into his face. He hit the tree and was knocked unconscious. With him down, I stalked back to the van where the other guy was laying on the ground.

"Did you get anything from him yet?"

"Not a single fucking word. What did the other one say?"

"He works for Roberto Sanchez," I bit out.

"Who the fuck is that?"

"No idea."

"I'm calling it in," Red said, calling Rae.

I stalked over to the man in the van and glared at him. Grabbing him by the shirt, I hauled him out and dragged him over to where he could see his fallen comrade. "Do you fucking see him?"

He nodded vigorously.

"I'll do the same fucking thing to you if you don't tell me what the fuck I want to know."

Eli huffed out a breath. "Chill," he muttered.

"I haven't had any fucking coffee. Maybe if someone hadn't had the last of it, I could fucking chill. Besides, he's the enemy."

Eli sighed heavily, clearly annoyed with me. I wasn't sure why he was being so cavalier about all this. These guys were here to kill Claire.

"So, have anything you want to tell me?"

"We're—we're just here to clean the carpets."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"I think he means they're the cleaners," Eli retorted. "The cleanup crew."

"Yes! We just clean up!" the man said excitedly.

I threw him to the ground, crossing my arms over my chest. "And cleanup crews always carry?"

The man sighed, nodding sagely. "We do, but it's part of the job. We couldn't do what we're hired to do if we didn't."

"Where is it?"

"The back of the van," he said, jerking his head.

I grabbed him and dragged him over to the fence post, tying him up. Then I made my way to the back of the van and started tearing it apart. I grabbed the vacuum and pulled the hose out, looking for the weapons. When I didn't find any, I tore the canister apart. Dirt and dust ballooned into the air, filling the space around my head.

I let out a harsh cough, waving it away. "When was the last fucking time you cleaned this thing? Do you know how unsanitary this is for a crime scene?"

"They're already dead," the man whimpered. "They don't care."

"What about the next people who move in?" I snapped. "What about the fucking evidence you're leaving in the fucking canister? Jesus Christ, what kind of cleaner are you?"

"I know!" he cried. "We get paid so little. We have to take every job we can and sometimes, there's no time to get rid of the previous job's dirt."

"You're mixing crime scenes?" I said incredulously.

"This isn't a crime scene," he hurried on.

"Not yet," I muttered.

He sucked in a breath. "Please don't hurt me. I swear, I'll get rid of all the debris. I won't leave a trace behind."

"Do you really think that's going to stop me from breaking your legs?"

He looked from me to Eli, then back. "You don't have to tell Sanchez. He'll fire me."

I huffed out a laugh. "Buddy, you have worse problems than being fired. Do you really think I can let you live? You know where she is. You know we're here. I can't let you run back to Sanchez and tell him that you not only failed, but that the lady you were supposed to remove isn't dead."

He paled considerably. "Lady? Nobody said anything about a dead body."

"Why else would you be here?"

"To clean the carpets."

"And remove the evidence," I snapped. "Is this your first time on the job?"

"Uh…Kavanaugh," Eli interrupted.

But I was too stumped by the stupidity of this man to give Eli the time of day. "Is this your first fucking job?"

"N—no. I've done this a lot of times. There's just never been a dead body. I didn't think?—"

"You didn't fucking think," I snapped. "And because of that, you're going to pay the ultimate price."

"Kavanaugh—" Eli started again.

"Where are the fucking weapons?"

"Weapons?"

"Yeah, you know the things you protect yourself with in case someone comes back."

"Usually, it's just the clients who come back," he whimpered.

"So, you never protect yourself?"

"From the homeowners?"

"No, you fucking idiot! From the people trying to kill them!"

"Why would anyone try to kill them?"

"Kavanaugh, I think?—"

"Not now, Eli. Let me deal with this dipshit first."

I heard his heavy sigh, but didn't have time to deal with him right now. "Who the fuck brought you into this line of work?"

His eyes flicked over to the man I'd knocked out by the tree. "He's my brother-in-law. He never said anything about…death."

"You mean to tell me you got a job as a cleaner and didn't know what the fuck you were dealing with?"

He shook his head rapidly.

I turned and faced Eli with a huff. "This guy doesn't know anything."

"That's because he's here to clean the carpets."

"I know. That's what he thinks too," I laughed. "Can you believe this shit?"

Red snickered beside Eli, both of them fucking laughing.

"You know, it's not fucking funny. Guys like this shouldn't be in the field."

"He's not technically in the field," Red chuckled.

"Are we or are we not on the job?" I snapped. "Well, what are we gonna do with these guys now? We can't let them live."

"Right. They might run back and tell…Sanchez," Red smirked.

"Exactly. And then it'll get back to Zavala."

He nodded, his grin growing. "And we wouldn't want Zavala to know men were here to clean the carpets."

I looked at him funny. What the fuck was he going on about? "Do you understand what's going on here?"

"Maybe you need a fucking cup of coffee," Red grinned.

"I already told you that," I snapped.

"And then you'd realize that these men are actually here to clean the carpets."

"Right, to get rid of the evidence," I said slowly.

"No. To actually clean the fucking carpets," Red said. "As in…they come out with that vacuum you tore apart and then they clean the fucking carpets."

He tossed me his phone and I looked at the screen. There was an ad with a picture of these two men standing in front of this very van. "Sanchez Carpet Cleaners," I murmured.

I looked at the man in the van tied to the fence and then to the van. "Well, why the fuck don't they have anything written on the outside of the van?" I snapped.

Red burst out laughing, smacking Eli on the shoulder. "Do you think we should call it in to Cash?"

"Or maybe Michael. We should tell him to take Claire and flee the country. They're armed with shampoo!"

"And lethal brushes!" Red joked.

"Hey, FNG carries umbrellas," I snapped.

They both stopped laughing, nodding sagely. "You're right. FNG does carry umbrellas," Red said.

Eli turned to him in mock seriousness. "Do you think we should warn him there's someone out there trying to supplant him?"

They both burst out laughing again, and I turned, stalking away. "I need a fucking cup of coffee."