BODHI
Chase and Beau are waiting in the loading bay when I pull up, which means they got my message. What they weren’t expecting, judging by the looks on their faces, is for me to climb out and pop the boot.
Slowly, reluctantly, they round the car and stand on either side of me, both with arms folded and peering inside as I lift it, revealing two man-sized lumps wrapped in tarps.
Beau exhales a curse and closes his eyes.
Chase stares down at the bodies. “Please tell me they’re not dead.”
He can hear their heartbeats and their shallow breathing; he’s just making a point.
“They’re not dead. Or dying.” I grab the first one and haul him out, slinging him over my shoulder. “They’re cops. I need you to hold them until Friday.”
Beau narrows his eyes at the second man, at his swollen and bruised face, then up at me, his expression caught somewhere between horror and amusement.
“You brought us cops? Injured cops.”
“I brought you two men who would be dead if I’d left them with Kozlov. And they weren’t working as cops when they broke into Kozlov’s, looking to cash in on a reward.” I dump the first one onto the concrete floor, not particularly gently either, and go back for the second. “It went sideways. They got caught. I have to make it look like I disposed of them.”
Chase runs a hand through his hair and blinks hard, looking at the beaten men and then back to me, trying very hard not to lose his temper.
“And you brought them here. To my facility. Where I run a legitimate security business.” He glances around, making sure there’s no other staff around to witness this delivery.
“You have holding cells. You have medical facilities. And you have Beau, who can figure out what to do with them. With his girlfriend’s help.” I drop the second man beside the first and straighten before rolling my shoulders. “I didn’t have a lot of options.”
Beau mutters something about her not being his fucking girlfriend, but I ignore him. Now is not the time.
“You could have actually disposed of them,” Beau says. “As in, dropped them home. Or to a hospital.”
I frown, looking at him in stunned disbelief. “So, they can go back to whoever hired them and tell them she’s definitely there? No thanks. We need the auction to go ahead so we can get everyone out at the same time.”
Chase stands, arms folded again, and watches as the two men struggle to move inside the tarps, attempting to roll onto their knees and push up on their elbows. One topples, catching his chin on the ground, but nobody moves to help him.
These people might not be enemies, but they’re not good men either.
“They’re just idiots who got in over their heads. Aren’t you?” I crouch down and stare into the first man’s face.
He’s squinting, his sore eyelids swollen shut, but his breathing is steady.
“One of them has a contact named Natasha who’s already in witness protection. Apparently, the real cops are building a case.”
Chase and Beau exchange a look.
“Lisa isn’t going to like this,” Beau mutters. “No fucking way am I telling her.”
“Lisa can’t know yet.” I stand and face my brother and Chase, not asking but telling them what needs to happen. “After the auction, you can hand them over, tell whatever story you want. But until then, they stay here. Away from Kozlov.”
Chase’s jaw tightens. “So, what information have you got?”
I take a breath, steadying myself. “Kozlov’s moving Emma and the other woman to an off-site location on Friday evening. The secret venue is revealed the day before the auction by a Mr. Black. He’s put me in charge of Emma’s security for the transport.”
Four raised eyebrows stare back at me. They weren’t expecting that.
“It’s happening under the cover of an illegal boxing fight. There will be lots of people, lots of very rich people, all with their own private security.”
“That’s our window,” Beau says, catching on immediately.
Ordinarily, I’d suggest Chase and Beau stay away. They couldn’t look more clean-cut military law enforcement if they tried, but if they can pretend to be private security for one of the wealthy bidders, they might just be able to sneak inside.
