“You got a problem, boss?” Angelo asked.
“Yeah, I got a problem. Chase Garrett. That’s my problem. He thinks he can buy the right to fuck my daughter with a fancy bottle of scotch. It isn’t going to work. As of now, he and Harper are finished. I want you to deliver that message loud and clear. Make sure he knows he’ll get far worse than a beating if he tries to see her again.”
“We got it, boss,” Carlos said. “After we’re done with Garrett, he won’t even remember your daughter’s name.”
“Take a couple of guys with you. Garrett won’t go down easy.”
“Oh, he’s going down, boss,” Angelo said. “One way or another.”
“Don’t kill him. I don’t need the aggravation.”
Angelo nodded. “We’ll need a couple of days to figure his schedule, get him alone.”
“Two days. That’s it. Now, get out of here.”
“Anything else?” Simon asked Knox as the men left the study.
“Not at the moment.”
Simon followed them out, and Knox returned his attention to the bottle of vintage scotch. Lifting the bottle, he cracked the seal and poured three fingers into the crystal tumbler sitting on the desk beside it.
Now that things were settled, he could relax and enjoy a drink. No use letting a good bottle of single malt go to waste.
Knox lifted the crystal glass and took a long, satisfying swallow.
Early Tuesday morning, Chase left Harper asleep in his bed, her silky hair spread over his pillow. The sight he had once only imagined was, in reality, even more arousing.
He sighed as pulled on a pair of lightweight sweats and padded down the hall into the kitchen to brew himself a cup of coffee. He had work to do this morning, and he still hadn’t decided what to do about Harper.
The Keurig machine on the granite counter bubbled, and his mug slowly filled. He took his coffee and started for the study to check his email when a knock sounded on the front door.
Way too early for company. Wary from his years in law enforcement, Chase checked the peephole, then relaxed when he saw his brother standing in the hall. Bran had a key and security clearance. No need for a heads-up from the guard in the lobby.
When he opened the door and spotted Special Agent Zach Tanner next to his brother, Chase’s unease returned. “From the scowl on your faces, whatever brought you here isn’t good news. Come on in.”
He had talked to Tanner Sunday morning while Harper was in the shower, and brought him up to speed on Winston’s party and his success in planting the bug. He had also called his brother.
“You guys want a cup of coffee?” Chase asked.
“I could use a cup,” Bran said, yawning, scratching his chest through the dark blue Henley he wore with his jeans.
Chase wondered what he would tell Harper if she saw the men, but it was barely dawn and she was still sound asleep in his bedroom. He led them into the kitchen, set out a couple of coffee pods and brewed them each a cup.
“Nice work with the bug,” Tanner said, taking a seat next to Bran on a barstool at the kitchen counter.
Chase stood on the opposite side. “Thanks.”
Zach sipped his coffee. “The device is working great, even better than we expected.”
“How long will the battery last?”
“Couple of weeks,” Zach said. “Maybe a little longer. Unfortunately, a problem’s come up.”
“Yeah, what problem is that?” Chase took a drink of his coffee.
“Apparently, Winston isn’t happy about you dating his daughter,” Zach said.
“No kidding.”
