“Leverage, Mr. Brennan.” Pierre Rousselle stepped from the front of the pickup.
“The rat has climbed from the sewer. The man so worried about appearances. And you—a con artist and a murderer. You do realize my staff is aware of the operation? Adelaide Matin left quite a diary for us.”
He laughed. “You mean the one we put in Babette’s backpack? The formulas are for benign things like cold medicine and vitamins. The money only points to the few workers. They’re all expendable. And the minutes, they’re from a country club business meeting. The only link to our operation, as you called it, is to that imbécile Matin and his crazy ideas.”
“Harper will never believe you weren’t involved,” Kip spat.
“She will when you are found dead. Harper is very weak-willed. She will yearn for her family.” Pierre smiled.
Kip took a step toward Pierre. “She has family that does not include you.” He managed not to jump when the gunman put a shot into the ground at his feet.
Pierre laughed, his expression evil. “You mean Chantal. When I blow her up inside her restaurant—a leaky gas pipe from the storm—she and the bastard child she is carrying will be gone.”
Kip realized he wasn’t aware of Lisette’s birth. “If that’s your plan, shoot me.” He raised his hands and crossed his arms over his chest.
One of the other men walked around the circle, injecting his team. Each one collapsed in seconds. Kip’s heart pounded. He had no idea if they were dead.
Josh made a last-ditch attempt to get to his weapon. A woman meeting Serafina’s description pointed her Beretta and pulled the trigger. Josh grabbed his chest.
“No!” Kip yelled. He dropped to his knees to help his executive officer. As he tried to staunch the bleeding, he depressed the emergency alert on a cell dropped in the dirt.
He felt a stick, then things went black.
* * *
Harper sat eatingher breakfast while Desirée rocked in her swing and Babette played with blocks on the floor with her new Uncle Zayne. She heard the vibration coming from Zayne’s hip and saw his phone flash.
His left hand never stopped building the block tower. His right pulled his phone from its pouch, then his eyes clouded over. “Baby girl, I’ll be back.”
Zayne, instead of heading to the half bath as Harper thought he’d do, slid the pocket door open and entered the security operations area to the estate.
The door opened again. “Harper, change the girls. We need to get them to the building,” Zayne said.
“Channy? Lisette?” Harper asked.
“They’re fine,” he said, now joined by two more from his team.
“Kip? Zayne, you need to tell me,” she begged.
“I don’t know. But Josh, he’s been shot. Hunt is at the hospital awaiting the ambulance. Eight more of the team are unconscious. Honey, Kip is missing,” Zayne said flatly.
“Oh my God. I’ll be ready in five minutes. Wait, you said the girls are going to the building. What about me?” Harper’s lip quivered.
“Hunt needs you,” Zayne muttered over a long breath.
* * *
Kip’s eyes opened.The wave of nausea hit him hard, causing him to roll to his side and vomit. The smell of death and decay permeated the air. He squinted in the dim daylight coming from above as he found himself in a dank cave.
Turning in a circle, he gagged. He wasn’t in a cave. He was inside a collapsed mausoleum. He did his best to control his breathing, inhaling through his mouth, but he could taste death.
The bodies were decayed but not skeletons. The woman still wore Louboutin shoes. But the man, he was wearing a Sommerstone lab coat. Above the pocket it said Rene Sommerstone. “Merde.”
“Hello!” he called.
An answer to his call came in the sound of a rat squeaking.
“Hello,” he tried again.
