Chapter Seven

M arshal was kicking his own ass two days later when the strained silence continued between him and Ryker.

He was also pissed at himself for the stunt he'd pulled at the Light Bright facility. Of all things to do! He'd kept his distance for years for a reason. Now, that had gone to shit and he had to put things back to how they'd been before his fuck up.

His phone buzzed with an incoming text from Donald Bass, but he ignored it just like he had the numerous messages he'd received since the day at Light Bright.

He'd deal with Donald later tonight.

"I'm out of leads," Alexander told him, placing an iPad down on the desk in front of him.

Since the Langston bodyguard headquarters was packed with additional personnel, Marshal had taken up working at one of the desks in the tech room where the FNext, BI was temporarily housed.

Lifting the iPad, Marshal flipped through the screen of suspects—five altogether. He thumbed through the list of new staff and a few old ones.

"Next, we need to put a tail on them," Marshal said.

"I don't have enough men." Alexander gestured to Hitch and two other FBI techies who had shown up later that first day.

"I'll have bodyguards fill it. Work them in pairs, so that means five teams," Marshal said, shooting a text to Fighter and Jaxon.

When Jaxon's name flashed on a video call a moment later, Marshal answered.

Instead of Jaxon, though, the man's gorgeous husband filled the screen.

"Hey, Marshal," Hayden smiled. "You need more manpower?"

"A few more would help."

"I can send Gunner and Felix."

"Okay, where is Jaxon?" Marshal asked.

"He's feeding his face." Hayden swiveled the phone so he could see Jaxon taking a bite of a hamburger. His boss waived.

Marshal snorted. "Yeah, send Gunner and Felix, and if you have one more that would be great."

"Okay, I think Sterling is free," Hayden agreed. "Don't forget it's Thanksgiving this Thursday, so pickings might be slim."

"I won't. I think the Langstons will provide food," Marshal said, and he planned on going home that day.

"Yum," Hayden snickered and ended the call.

"I'll hook everyone up with radios," Alexander said and Marshal nodded.

All Langston employees lived locally, and high-frequency radios would make it easier for the bodyguards to keep in touch as they handled their separate jobs.

It took an hour and thirty minutes to assemble the team into pairs once Gunner Morgan, Felix Acosta, and Sterling Carnell arrived.

Marshal gazed over the quiet group of bodyguards that had gathered in the main room located on the ground floor of the Langston estate.

"I want pictures of every person your target meets. Send them to Alexander or myself immediately and we'll start doing a background check."

"You're all on channel three," Alexander said, handing each team a radio.

"I shot each team one target photo and information," Hitch piped up from where he was sitting with a laptop on his lap.

"I need to reiterate something," Bishop said.

"Go ahead." Marshal gave Bishop the floor.

Bishop walked to the head of the group and turned, facing the teams. "This goes without saying, but I'm going to say it anyway." The man paused, running his eyes over the group. "Nobody is to talk about anything related to this case outside of this room."

"Sometimes the staff come in here to deliver beverages, food, or clean. We always shut conversations down when that happens, but what if we're caught off guard?" Tanner said.

Tanner Hendrix had been with Cobalt Security for over a year and had a very bright future ahead. Tanner was quick and super fucking smart.

"Any ideas?" Bishop asked Tanner.

The man's response was quick. "We all take turns rotating as a guard to man the door twenty-four seven. I'll put together a schedule. Nobody enters until the guard notifies those inside first."

Marshal smirked and Bishop smiled wide. The rest of the men nodded in agreement.

"There you have it," Marshal said. "Now, watch your target and when they leave for the day or weekend, you do whatever you need to do to get the information back to us."

With low murmurs of agreement, pairs broke off together to go over the photos and information about their target.

Marshal headed out of the room with Alexander and Hitch.

"Hey, Marshal?" Brandon, Ryker's bodyguard, called from down the hallway.

"What's up, Brandon?" Marshal stopped and waited for the man to catch up.

"Ryker left again."

Marshal clenched his teeth to stop himself from punching Brandon, but the man must have sensed his ire because the bodyguard took a few steps back.

"Chad is following him," Brandon said quickly.

That meant Ryker was not in the same car as Chad and the way Ryker handled his sports car, it wouldn't be long before the man gave Chad the slip.

"Fuck!" he spat, stalking down the hallway toward the parking garage with his hands itching to get ahold of Ryker.

"Hey," Alexander pulled him to a stop. "I have something for you, hold up."

Marshal impatiently followed Alexander toward the FBI technical room and waited.

"Attach this to his wrist. Once it's locked, he can't take it off." Alexander pointed to the mechanism that locked the silver chain-link bracelet and snapped it closed. The agent then took a small, round-looking key and unlocked it before handing both to Marshal. "We can track him from anywhere with this."

Marshal tucked both the key and bracelet into his pocket before hauling ass out of the estate.

Punching in Ryker's number, it went straight to voicemail.

Damn it!

The borrowed sports car was powerful beneath his hands and Marshal called Chad on his cell phone as he tore out of the newly opened gates and raced down the long road that would take him off of Langston land.

"Marshal?" Chad answered on the first ring.

"Where are you? Do you still have him in sight?"

"I don't, but I can tell you where I lost him at."

Marshal squeezed the steering wheel. He was going to wring Ryker's neck and this time, he wasn't going to rein in his temper.

Thankfully, his phone rang and the name flashing on the dashboard screen made him smile and kept him from brooding too much.

"Hey, mom," he answered with the hands free on the second ring.

"Hey, sweetie, are you coming home for Thanksgiving weekend?" Her hopeful voice filled up the vehicle's speakers.

"I'll be home for Thanksgiving, but I won't be able to stay for the weekend until this job is over."

She gave a heavy sigh that came in loud and clear over the speakers and he suspected she was having a hard time.

"Put Tristan on the phone," Marshal growled.

"Don't yell," she cautioned him.

"Hey, Dad," his sixteen-year-old son grumbled into the phone.

"Are you giving your grandmother a hard time?"

"No," Tristan assured him. "It's Colin and Owen, they're out of control!"

Marshal eased his foot off the gas and took the exit that would take him to where Chad had last seen Ryker.

"Here!" Tristan said with a loud, annoyed sigh and handed the phone over before he could say anything further.

Marshal expected his mom, not his four-year-old son, Colin, to pop on the line.

"Hi, Daddy!"

"Hi, baby, are you being a good boy?"

"Yep, Owen is a bad boy," Colin said, accusing his quieter twin.

"I see. Well, you be sure to be a good boy for Grandma and share your toys."

"I wanna talk to Daddy!" Owen's voice wavered in the background, sounding like he was going to cry.

"Put Owen on the phone."

There was some tug-o-war going on, Marshal was sure of it, but eventually, Owen's voice filled the speakers.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, baby, be good for Grandma, okay?"

"Okay!" Owen assured him.

"Hey, sweetie," his mom said, coming back on the line.

"I'll see you on Thursday," he assured her and they talked a few more minutes before ending the call.

Even if it was only for the day, he needed to make it home.

He rubbed a tired hand over his face and drove onto the street where Ryker had last been seen.

He recognized the area immediately and knew exactly where Ryker was going.

Fuck.