Questioning the man’s grasp of the law didn’t seem like a good use of Monk’s time. “Permission denied. Get the fuck out.”
“Who the hell are you?” the same man demanded. Man Two stepped farther into sight. A prick of familiarity hit Monk at the way his hand swung at his side, but nothing clicked.
“Someone whoissupposed to be here. Now again, get out.”
Both men puffed up at the challenge. Monk bit back a sigh.
Man One looked at his accomplice. They may as well have shouted their silent communication.
“I wouldn’t go the path you’re considering,” Monk said.
“Two on one isn’t such bad odds,” Man Two hissed, taking another step forward.
“Maybe if you tell me what you came here for, I’ll let you grab it and go.” He wouldn’t, but he was curious.
“Or maybe we’ll have a different kind of conversation,” Man One said as Man Two pulled a bowie knife from the pocket of his hoodie.
“Is that a threat?” Monk asked. Sure, he was baiting them. But they were thirty feet away, and he seriously doubted either had the skill to hit him at that distance.
“The mountains called, and they want you back. We’ll take you there in pieces.”
Being called a mountain man struck him as funny, and Monk laughed. But when Man Two’s shoulders stiffened and he started forward, Monk lifted the pistol and with zero hesitation, fired. The shot hit six inches in front of his toe, sending shards from where it struck the stone flying into the air as the bullet ricocheted and embedded in the wall above the man’s knee.
“Jesus fucking christ,” Man Two shrieked, leaping back. Man One plastered himself against the opposite wall.
Monk grinned and waved the gun. “I have a few more bullets if you want to try me.”
“You’re fucking insane,” Man One shouted. More like squealed, but Monk didn’t need to kick a man while he was down.
He shrugged, his shoulders sliding over the leather at his back. “You’re the one with a knife at a gunfight. Are you sure I’m the insane one?”
The two men shared a look. Monk casually pointed the pistol in their direction. “You’re breaking and entering intomyhome.” Words he never thought he’d say. He didn’t mean them, though, so figured he hadn’t damned his own soul by calling the castle his home. “I have no obligation to retreat and every right to defend myself—your threat and that knife made sure of that. But I won’t shoot you in the back, if that’s any consolation.” He wouldn’t shoot them at all, but they didn’t need to know that. “Make good choices, gentlemen.”
Man One grumbled a curse before bolting down the hallway without a backward glance at his crime buddy. Man Two stared at him. The feeling of knowing washed over Monk again. Before he could place him, though, the erstwhile thief spun and disappeared down the hall, too. Less than two seconds later, the door slammed shut.
Monk remained where he was until he heard footsteps on the gravel outside. Rising from his comfortable seat, he followed their path down the hallway and stepped outside. He didn’t feel the need to pursue the intruders, but he did want to know in what direction they fled.
Pausing on the porch, he tuned in to the sounds around him. Two birds calling to each other, a third interrupting every few seconds. The breeze rustling the winter vines. The clink of the gate at one of the wine caves, shifting in the wind.
Then he heard it. Gravel dislodging and rolling down the hill. He zeroed in on it and a few seconds later, he heard a branch crack. Making a mental note to place a few cameras with views of the mountain, he returned to the alarm keypad.
A quick internet search gave him the information he needed and a few minutes later, he had a new code. With his nap no longer an option, he ventured to the parking lot and eyed the castle. He had enough time before Lovell and Dulcie arrived to make a plan for the CCTV.
An hour later, his phone dinged as he added the last item to the list of equipment he’d pick up the next day. He smiled at the image. Lovell’s souped-up electric Mercedes waiting for the gate to open at the entrance of Bacco.
Rounding the front of the castle, he waited as Dulcie and Lovell pulled up the drive. The sleek black car with tinted windows slid to a stop in front of him, and a beat later, his brothers climbed out.
Both paused, their gazes sweeping over the monstrosity he’d called home. Neither said a word, though, opting instead for a hug and a back slap.
“Murder, drugs, and creepy exes, you’ve had a busy few days,” Dulcie said as they walked inside.
“Considering I’ve barely left this room other than to go to the Shaws’, yeah, it’s been interesting,” he replied, ushering them into the tasting room.
Lovell paused where the hall met the room, and Monk turned to see him studying the floor. He remained silent as Lovell noted the dings in the wall from the stone shrapnel before he lifted an eyebrow at the bullet still lodged in the plaster.
With a chuckle, he turned to Monk. “Looks like it’s been even more interesting than we were led to believe.”
CHAPTER TEN
