Jax made no reply, but his heart had started beating faster. He was a SEAL. SEALs went after what they wanted.
“You gonna be able to get your head on straight enough to do your job?” Maddox asked.
Jax’s features hardened. “Nobody’s getting near her.”
Hawk relaxed. “Okay, then. Your best bet is to focus on finding that flash drive.”
CHAPTER TEN
MINDYSEARCHEDHERspace at the office, her desk and credenza, every drawer and cubbyhole, though she couldn’t imagine how the drive—if there actually was one—could have gotten to The Max in the first place.
She had worked on Ryan’s books in her apartment, and that had been months ago. But shehadtransported them back and forth from his place to hers.
She’d done a thorough search of her Volkswagen, still parked in the lot out behind. Ryan’s drives were all the same brand, she recalled, little silver Kingstons only about a quarter-inch thick and an inch or so long. Easy to lose, though she’d been careful and Ryan had never mentioned any of them missing.
But she could have picked up an extra. What if she had simply dropped it somewhere as she carried it from his house to her car, or her car to her apartment? What if it never showed up again? No way would the kidnappers believe she didn’t have it. Not after the trouble they had gone through to get it back.
She thought of Ryan being tortured and killed. Was she partly responsible for his death? If she had accidentally taken the flash drive, was he dead because he couldn’t hand it over to them? The notion sent a chill down her spine.
By the time she and Jax had finished searching the car, then her apartment again from top to bottom, it was dark and she was exhausted. She toed off her sneakers and sank down on the floral sofa in her living room. Muffin jumped up in her lap.
“Hello, sweetheart.” She stroked a hand over the cat’s glossy coat, and Muffin curled up and started to purr.
Jax walked back into the living room. For the past hour and a half, he had been working on his laptop on the desk in her bedroom. He took one look at her sagging shoulders and dejected expression and sat down on the sofa beside her.
Muffin, little hussy that she was, moved over to Jax’s lap, and he absently started rubbing beneath her chin.
Mindy leaned against the sofa with a tired sigh. “I don’t think it’s here.”
“You checked your laptop case, right?”
“Only half a dozen times.” She looked up at him. “It could be anywhere, Jax. Maybe I never even had it. Maybe there’s no such thing as a flash drive with valuable secret information. Maybe we’re completely off base.”
He shook his head. “I did a little more digging on Shipman, and I think Maddox could be right. The guy was always out for himself. Shipman Construction had a number of one-star reviews, jobs he never finished or didn’t stand behind. This feels right. It’s the only way all the odd-shaped pieces fit together.”
She toyed with the hem of the pink T-shirt she was wearing. “We’ve looked everywhere and we didn’t find it. If you’re right, what do we do now?”
“I’ve been working on that. Something you said has been rolling around in my head. The only link you had to Ryan Shipman was through the owner of DeMarco Staffing.”
“Susan DeMarco.”
“She’s Jonathan DeMarco’s wife. Jonathan DeMarco—the billionaire owner of DeMarco Industries. She’s the person who told Ryan to call you.”
“That’s right.”
“So how were the two of them connected? I’ve seen pictures of her. Susan’s a beautiful woman. Her husband’s thirty years older—younger woman, older man. I had a feeling Chase would know something about them, since he runs in the same megarich social circles, so I called him.”
Chase Garrett and his two younger brothers owned Garrett Enterprises, a billion-dollar oil and gas company. They were Dallas elite, just like the DeMarcos.
“According to Chase,” Jax continued, “Susan isn’t the saint her husband believes her to be. Chase says she’s had half a dozen affairs behind her husband’s back, but she’s always been able to keep them secret. Chase says if DeMarco found out his wife was cheating, he’d divorce her in a heartbeat.”
Mindy straightened on the sofa. “You think Susan was having an affair with Ryan?”
“You think it’s possible?”
She thought of Ryan Shipman. Late thirties, sandy hair and blue eyes, a lean, athletic build. “As you said, Susan is beautiful, and Ryan was definitely good-looking.”
“Yeah, I saw his photo on the internet—along with a couple of mug shots.”
