What if Bertha had been murdered and no one had even suspected? Cameron and Ranger had gone down south to attend her funeral. Ghost recalled Ranger telling him that Becks’ fiancé had been at a work conference or something and had been unable to attend. Just as Cameron had come up with an excuse not to attend her boyfriend’s sister’s wedding.
Was it so the two stepsiblings were never seen in public together?
Keys shook his head. “I don’t think so. She was already dying, and I think the timing just worked out in Ritchie and Cameron’s favor—if the wedding had taken place as it was supposed to.”
Ghost recalled Ritchie’s words when he’d stormed into his own wedding, late, drunk, and high. “Duuuude,I am so rich. You are not going to believe how much money I just got. And it’s allmine. Now, excuse me. But I gotta go marry this ugly cow. Dude, I hate it when she goes down on me. She snortslike a fucking pig. Ooh, pig! That’s it, I gotta go marry a pig. Oh! Bacon! Let’s go cook some bacon. I really want bacon right now.”
Ritchie had fucked up his own plot. And Becks? She’d almost fallen for it. Almost, because even if Ritchie hadn’t left her at the altar, she had been at the church ready to get married that morning. She’d only left at the last minute because of her growing feelings for Ghost.
“Becks didn’t marry Ritchie. She married me.” Even as tired and worried and in pain as he was, there was no keeping the pride out of his voice at that declaration.
“Which is likely the reason a bomb was put in the bar. You became her beneficiary when she married you.”
Ghost flinched, the realization as to why taking nothing away from the guilt of those dead and injured when he’d been the intended target. “And I’m still alive, which means I’m still Becks’ husband. It’s not like Ritchie can marry her now to get his hands on that money.”
“But he can still make her sign paperwork declaringhimher beneficiary.”
Fuck, which would only take effect if Becks was dead. “If he forged the signatures before, why not forge them now?” Ghost’s voice wasn’t anywhere close to being steady.
“My guess is they want to do it legally, or as close to legally as kidnapping two people and forcing them to sign over their trusts is. If there’s any doubt, the courts won’t order the banks to release the trusts.”
That was not good news in Ghost’s book, because if Ranger and Becks were dead, there would be no one to attest the kidnapping allegation. It was very likely that they would make their deaths look like an accident rather than a murder. Which again, was not something Ghost wanted to think about.
He ran a hand down his unshaven face. “What about Ranger? He and Cameron aren’t married.”
“No, and based on Demo’s assessment of the bomb from the bar, it was meant to go off later in the evening when both you and Ranger were working.”
Ghost didn’t know how to feel about that, because how fucked up was it that he was grateful it went off when it did. Four people had died in that explosion, but had it gone off later in the night when Ranger was scheduled to work, the bar would have been a lot more crowded, and who knew how many people would have died then.
“Let me guess, Ranger’s trust would go to Becks if something happened to him.”
“Exactly,” Keys agreed. “I even found a death certificate filed in his name by Ritchie’s old law firm to Ranger’s bank, where Becks is listed as his beneficiary on his account. My guess is, it was done prematurely because they did not expect Ranger to survive the bomb.”
“And because the bomb went off early, they took Ranger too.” It wasn’t difficult to discern why. Right now, Ranger was not around to claim he was still alive, and there was the more obvious fact that the threat of harming one of the siblings could be used against the other as leverage to sign the paperwork.
“Now, there is something that we know that Ritchie doesn’t.”
Ghost frowned, not sure how much more information he could take. None of what Keys had told him so far clued him in as to where Becks and Ranger were or in what condition they were in. “What’s that?”
“Becks’ trust no longer exists. She already signed the paperwork to have Demo set it up for any children the two of you might have.”
The statement was both a relief and a punch in the gut. They didn’t have children. Or maybe they did, and Ghost would neverknow. The unused pregnancy tests still sat untouched in his saddlebags.
“Why is this good news?” he snapped at Keys, beyond irritated.
Keys continued, not realizing just how close to losing it Ghost was. “Well, since we have no idea where they are, you have a choice to make. If Ritchie learns this information, he might come after you again. Only this time, we’ll be ready for him.”
But Ghost was already shaking his head before Keys finished his statement. He’d be all for making Ritchie come after him. What he wouldn’t give to have five minutes alone in a locked cell with the man. Ghost didn’t give a fuck about the money or the trust or any of it. All he wanted was his wife and best friend back! Ritchie could never learn that Becks’ trust wasn’t her own anymore, negating his purpose of taking Becks—and at the moment, the only incentive Ritchie had to keep her alive.
Becks’ only hope of survival was if Ritchie never found out the trust he was after was already claimed. They had to find some other way of finding her. Ghost was not willing to gamble Becks’ or Ranger’s lives on the off chance Ritchie and Cameron could be reasoned with.
“Please stop! Please!”Becks’ tear-filled pleas fell on deaf ears, just as they had for the past four days.
When Becks’ blindfold had been removed, she’d found herself in a cell of sorts. She suspected they were underground, as there were no windows to the outside and it felt colder than spring should. It had concrete walls and metal bars with the locks punched out. Instead, a long chain and thick padlock closed them, securing her into the cell. The only light sourcewere three hanging lights in the small hall. The ceiling above her looked like there had once been long fluorescent bulbs, though the fixtures were now empty.
Beside her, separated by metal bars, was Liam.
They’d stripped him down bare and chained him to the metal toilet in his cell. His arms hung by his sides with the long handcuff chain looped under the bowl of the toilet. But his nudity and bondage wasn’t the worst of it. Whatever drug Cameron had given him that day in her apartment, they continued to give him. And hour after hour, day after day, Becks saw it changing her brother.
