Peyton returned to his room and tried once more to call Gillian. He knew she sent it to voicemail because it answered almost immediately.
Sighing, Peyton waited for the beep. “Baby, I love you, and I’m really sorry. Our contact here got delayed, but I know where the sighting happened, so I’m going on ahead. If there was any other option besides me coming here, believe me, I would have chosen that. But you know we have to end this bullshit with Faegan sooner rather than later. I miss you and Adair. When I return from this trip, I will gladly take the ass-chewing I deserve, and I promise I will spend the next several years groveling to make this up to you. I love you both so much.”
When he ended the call he stared at his phone for a moment, hoping she’d call him back and yet knowing she wouldn’t.
Not that he blamed her. She’d just given birth to their first child, and here he was, fucking off to the other side of the goddamned planet in search of a fucker who had been eluding them for months instead of doting on her, helping take care of the baby, and enjoying a few days of…just being normal.
Maybe this is the Goddess’ way of punishing me for all the “normal” years I had while Dewi had to become Head Enforcer.
Before he headed out, he stashed his wallet, passport, and his personal phone in his carry-on to leave in his room. While Norway was generally a safe country, especially in rural areas, he didn’t want to risk them being stolen from his rental. Especially if Faegan somehow managed to backtrack on him and get there first.
And because of his Prime powers, he wouldn’t need a wallet to get the rental car. Not this time around. The fewer traces of his presence in town, the better.
All he’d take with him this morning would be the cheap burner phone he was using during this trip—a precaution they’d all been taking during their hunts—a pair of shorts and a T-shirt he’d leave in the car in case he had to shift and return without grabbing his discarded clothes, and his hotel room key.
Thirty minutes later, he was behind the wheel of a tiny Renault and speeding away from town. The young woman manning the desk thought she’d just loaned the vehicle to a police officer whose car broke down and needed to attend to a call several hours away.
Peyton wouldn’t feel guilty about that, either. With any luck, he’d return the vehicle that afternoon and walk away satisfied that part of this nightmare was over.
What he didn’t want was his name associated with a vehicle that might be linked to the discovery of a body found in the woods. Sure, it was a long shot anyone would ever find Faegan’s body—if it was Faegan out there, and if Peyton did in fact locate him—but his father and Badger had drilled into him and Trent that the fewer risks taken and the fewer traces left behind meant fewer worries and work cleaning up the situation on the other side of things.
Especially in today’s age, when a credit card was instantly traceable.
Hell, the hotel didn’t even know any of their legal names. They’d paid cash for the rooms and given false names to the desk clerk, who didn’t even ask for ID, thanks to Peyton’s Prime powers.
It was bad enough that they could be traced to riding the train north, but some risks had to be taken when balanced against the chance of drawing unwanted attention to themselves by being anonymous when they shouldn’t be. Peyton couldn’t control the Norwegian government or erase their presence from every CCTV camera and passport control station.
But he could cloud their movements in town, to a certain extent.
Trevor would rent the other vehicles under one of his businesses’ names, pretending to be oil company executives in town for a meeting.
Peyton, however, wanted his presence disguised as much as possible. He didn’t know the abilities or reach of the unknown others they were up against, and didn’t want to advertise his movements in case they could tap into any number of systems and see where he currently was.
Another potentially nice run in the woods spoiled by a fucking hunt for fuckheads.
Only this time, Peyton knew there wouldn’t be a pleasant surprise at the end of his journey, like last year with finding Duncan.
There would either be disappointment…or bloody, satisfying vengeance.
Chapter Twenty-One
Trevor
As the morning dragged on, Trevor fought the urge to pace, agitated and frustrated by the continuing delays in meeting with the contact. “Why isn’t Fredrik answering his mobile?” he asked Wilford.
“I don’t know, sir,” he said.
“Do we even know which vessel he’s on?” Trevor asked. “Are they in the harbor already? Perhaps we can hire a boat to take us to meet him if they aren’t far offshore?”
“No, sir,” Wilford said.
“Where does the family live, then?” Trevor had never met the rest of the family, only the father, Geir, and that was years earlier.
Wilford pulled up the address on his tablet and showed Trevor. “Approximately thirty minutes outside of town by car.”
“Then let’s move,” Trevor said. “You stay here with someone and try to locate Frederik. We’ll go on ahead to their home and talk to his mother and sister.”
“He said his mother and sister aren’t aware of what’s going on. He insisted he didn’t want to worry them since their father’s on deployment and out of contact.”
