“Again, the point?”
“Live online videos changed all of that and Seaton started using them to move their lower end product, the stuff jewelry stores didn’t want to buy.” Gabe clicked to a different tab on his monitor and the screen filled with a dude in a purple satin shirt holding an oyster in front of him with the flair of a TV game show host.
He hit play and the man kept up a steady stream of chatter while he pried open the oyster with the skill of a chef working a Chesapeake Bay raw bar.
“It’s twins!” he exclaimed, holding the shell up to the camera. “Guuurl, you are so lucky. Look at these beauties!”
He chattered on as comments and hearts and smile emoticons rolled across the bottom of the screen. It was like a train wreck. Emerson didn’t want to watch, but he couldn’t look away.
“He’s good, right?” said Gabe, not waiting for Emerson’s response. “That’s Jonathon Rainier, aka Johnny Luster. He’s our hacker. He did shell parties for Seaton for nine months before they ended the program. People started to complain about the quality of the goods and I guess they figured it wasn’t worth the hit to their reputation. They put Johnny there out of business almost overnight.”
“Okay, assuming he’s our guy.” He held a hand up to stop Gabe’s protest. His brother was a pain in the ass, but he was also good at what he did. If he believed this Johnny guy was behind things, there was a very good chance he was right. “I get that he’s having fun, and not getting to host some online parties might make the guy want to screw with Seaton. But it’s hardly enough motivation for robbery and assault.”
He thought about how casually whoever did it attacked Sophie and what could have happened. He had to force himself to unclench his fists.
“The guy was pulling in upwards of seventeen grand for every party and taking home almost half of that. He went from making twenty-two K selling electronics to over a hundred and fifty thousand in one year. He lived like it too. The guy’s a financial mess, up to his eyeballs in debt. Seaton turned the cash spigot off almost overnight. Where else is a guy like him going to make that kind of money?”
“That’s motivation.” Emerson’s pulse kicked up. If this really was the guy, proving it should be easy enough. It didn’t explain the attempted shooting but it was a tangible start.
“And means.” Gabe clicked the screen over to an image of credit card charges at a gas station down the road from the store. “He was in the area the night Sophie was attacked.” His voice lost its teasing edge and when he met Emerson’s gaze, something passed wordlessly between them. Gabe might ride him mercilessly about Sophie, but he’d protect her with his life too.
“Want to go with me to pay Mr. Luster a visit?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
––––––––
EMERSON KNEW SOMETHINGwas wrong as soon as he got close enough to see the door. They’d taken a chance and gone in the back. Rainier’s car was in the alley and the TV flickering through the window certainly made it look like the guy was home. There weren’t any firearms registered to the guy, which didn’t mean he didn’t have one, but everything Emerson read about him painted a picture of someone more suited to a life of cybercrime than violence. Even the way he’d called in the robbery—if it had indeed been him—and got Sophie help was consistent with someone who didn’t carry.
Standing on the back deck, he saw what looked like pry marks on the splintered doorjamb. Apparently, they weren’t the first ones to go looking for the party guy or from the looks of things, the fastest to find him. Gabe gave him a look and when Emerson nodded, they both reached for the holsters strapped to their waists. Holding the Glock in both hands, he thumbed off the safety and nudged the door open with his boot. The smell of decay overwhelmed him, and he didn’t need to see Johnny Luster to know they were too late.
“Jesus.” Gabe reared back at the stench.
“That about sums it up.”
Gun raised, he slipped into the house with Gabe and cleared each room until they reached the main living area. And Rainier.
Rainier’s death hadn’t been a quick one. He’d been tortured before the shot to the center of his forehead blew off the back of his skull. And given the state of the body, he’d been dead for at least a day, which meant whoever killed him either knew where to find him or was faster than Southerland Security.
“Call the police,” said Emerson, heading for the porch and fresh air. They weren’t going to find anything to help protect Sophie in Rainier’s house and hanging around with guns drawn at the scene of a murder would raise more questions than they answered. “Make sure you go through Detective Westfield.”
Private security and law enforcement overlapped occasionally. Going through the officer who knew them would get the fastest response and require the least amount of explanation. Seeing the condition of the body changed the threat level. It had been high to begin with but whoever killed Rainier had been willing to take a lot of chances, presumably to find out whatever he knew. It meant they wouldn’t hesitate to take more chances to get to Sophie. Not bothering to wait for Gabe to make his call, Emerson pulled out his phone and dialed Anthony Perez. He’d rather have Liam, but the other man was cloistered away on a goat farm and couldn’t get there fast enough.
He relayed instructions to the man on the other end of the phone and then hung up and called Sophie. Perez was good at body work, better than Emerson. He’d make sure she was safe. If she’d listen to him.
“Does this mean you’re too chicken to come home?” she said, a teasing note in her voice.
He hated being the one to take that away from her, to steal the playfulness and replace it with fear.
“Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me.” He heard her suck in her breath at the endearment, but he didn’t have time to worry about crossing lines now. A man had been brutally murdered in the house behind him. All that mattered was keeping her safe. “There’s been a change in plans. One of my men is on his way up to wait with you. He’s going to stay with you until I get home. I’m going to stay on the phone with you until he gets there.”
“Is everyone okay? Gabe’s not hurt, is he?”
He fought back the tiny sting of jealousy. Of course, she’d be concerned about his brother. He knew it didn’t mean anything. But part of him would always resent a little bit, the easy way Gabe had with people. He was the serious one, the stealer of fun. Gabe brought the party with him. He’d always been that way, since they were kids.
“He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.” Unless he counted Rainier, which he wasn’t going to do at that moment. “I just need you to stay with Anthony for a little while.”
“Hold on. I think I hear him.”
