Savage rattles off stats, addressing Violet directly.
Every one of us is already familiar with this thing and what it’s capable of. “This device is as cheap as they come. He’s probably got two or three of them. They cost $80 or 90 bucks each and have a powerful magnet inside.” He takes the device and flips it over, then attaches it to the metal desk to show us how it sticks. “With an older car like Violet’s, this was really tough to find. The fucker hid it inside the front bumper. We tore that car apart. The only reason we found it…” He trails off.
He doesn’t have to complete the thought. I know how he found it. We stash trackers just like this one on some of our clients. One of the best places to hide these buggers is not in the wheel well like they show on TV, but inside a bumper where it’s protected from wind, rain, and pebbles. Unless the car is in an accident and the device is damaged, it’s almost impossible to find.
“Inside the bumper?” Violet looks confused. “What does that mean?”
I trade a look with Savage and then explain. “The tracker has a battery life of eighteen to twenty-four days, depending on how much driving the mark is doing.”
“Wait, wait…days? Eighteen to twenty-four days?” Violet covers her mouth. She looks like she’s gonna be sick, but there is no way I can sugarcoat this for her. She needs to know what this asshole has done.
I blow out a long, tense breath. “With the storm and how little your car was moving, who knows how much life is left.”
“So, he knows I’m here? He knows exactly where I am?” Her eyes are wide, and her voice trembles. “For a couple hundred dollars, he could keep track of me for months?”
I nod. “Absolutely. These things are accurate, Violet. Very accurate. That’d explain why every time you went someplace, he’d show up not long after you got there.”
She rubs her face with both hands and looks at me, those wide green eyes searching for answers. “What does that mean, Shadow? I don’t understand. How accurate are these trackers?”
I take a slow, steadying breath and look at Savage. This is his area of expertise.
He lowers himself into the chair beside Violet and speaks to her gently. I can imagine the days in the past when he was a hero, on the right side of the law—or so he thought.
When he was in the military, doing special ops or whatever he did, vital witness extractions were one thing I know he specialized in.
I can see how good he must have been at the job, and yet again, I have to wonder what brought him so far from that lifestyle. I’m just grateful he’s on the club’s side now.
“Violet, these trackers provide real-time data to the device owner using the cellular network. No Wi-Fi required. They are accurate to within six feet, so whoever planted this on your car would have no trouble getting this close to you.” He uses an arm to gesture between himself and her. “He probably has a couple of these devices. Keeps one charged at all times. When he knows you’ve been on the move long enough to drain the battery, or when you’re conveniently not on the move, he could park beside your car in a lot, pretend to drop something on the ground, and swap them out without you ever knowing.”
I drop into the chair behind my desk and rake my hands through my hair. I know what this means. This fucker is stupid, and he wants Violet. He knows I’ve been with her, so he’s assuming—rightly so—the worst. That I’ve fucked her. That she’s mine now. And a dumbass like him is gonna make damn sure he gets up in my face and forces me to make good on my threat to stop him from breathing. That is, if he doesn’t get to Violet first.
I can’t let her leave the compound. Not until Clive makes his move. Reveals himself as the bottom-dweller he is.
“Where’s this asshole live?” I interrupt. I have a lot of calls to make, and with the storm, I’m gonna need all the time I can get.
She swallows and looks from Savage to me. “Just outside of Tallahassee. A little ways north, by the Georgia border.” She closes her eyes and clasps her hands tightly in her lap. “He could make it here in…”
“Three to four hours,” Savage tells me. “Maybe five to six, depending on the state of the roads. That part of the state won’t have the same storm damage we do, and we don’t know how far away he was when the storm hit.”
“What?” Violet cries out. “Wait a minute. Do you mean you think there’s a chance he’s been here in Tampa this whole time? He could be close right now?”
I come around the desk and pull Violet out of the chair. “How long were you on the road before the storm hit? Did you drive straight here the morning of the storm?”
Anguish coats her features. “Yes. But it’s not like I was watching to see if I was followed. Why would I even suspect such a thing?”
“He was banking on you trusting him. Not believing the worst about him. For all you know, Clive could have been behind you the entire time.” I hate to say it, but we all need to be braced for the truth.
She looks from me to Savage and Viper. “Where would he have stayed? Could he have gotten a hotel room when I couldn’t?” She bites her trembling lip. “I listened to an audiobook the entire drive. I was so lost in the story, I didn’t pay attention to the news. I literally didn’t know the storm was developing the way it was until I got into Tampa. By then, it was too late. If he’d been tracking my movements and paying attention to the storm…”
She doesn’t have to say the rest. Clive could be very, very close. Too close.
“Is there any way to know where he is?” she asks. “If he can track me, can we, I don’t know, contact the manufacturer? Damage the device so it doesn’t send my location to him?”
Savage shakes his head. “No, we can’t reverse-track him just because we have the device. I wish we could. The only thing we can do is assume that he’s close. And I wouldn’t recommend doing anything to let him know we’re onto him.” He stands. “In fact, we might want to use the fact that we know about this to our advantage.”
I know exactly what he’s thinking. If Clive doesn’t come to Violet soon, we’ll put the device back on her car and draw the little fucker out.
Violet starts to tremble, and I pull her to my chest. “Call a meeting,” I tell Savage. “All hands on deck. Ten minutes.”
