“That’s what we’re going to find out.”Mike opened the car door.“But first, we need to make sure Nica is protected without alerting our stalker that we’re onto them.Can you think of a reason to suggest she visit her family for a few days?Something natural, not forced?”
Gabe thought for a moment, his mind churning through possibilities.“Her sister-in-law’s been having problems with her pregnancy.Nica’s worried about her.Because Dane and Destiny live in the foreman’s house there on the property, it won’t seem strange to the rest of the town if Nica stays at the Boudreau ranch for a few days.”
“Perfect.Encourage her to go.Make it seem like your idea—maybe tell her you have to go to some out-of-town lectures or medical meetings, and you’ll be too busy with work to give her the attention she deserves if she comes with you.Tell her you’d worry if she’s alone while you’re out of town, and you’ll feel better if she’s at the ranch, where they have good security.It won’t be too big a stretch, because you will be busy.”They climbed back into the car and Mike started the engine.“How good an actress is your wife?”
“Why?”
“Because if this plan is to work, we’re going to need her to play a very convincing role when the time comes.The question is whether she can handle knowing the truth about what we’re up against.”
“She managed to keep our marriage a secret from her parents for three months.I think she’ll be able to handle whatever you need.Nica’s as anxious as I am to find this person and end the harassment.I won’t lie to her, never again.I’ll convince her to go to the ranch, but she’ll know exactly why she’s there.I promised her no more secrets.And don’t worry, she’ll play her part, because she wants to end this as much as I do.”
As they drove back toward Main Street, Gabe stared out the window at the familiar streets of Shiloh Springs.Somewhere in this small town, or perhaps watching from a distance, someone had invaded his life so completely that they knew things about him he’d forgotten himself.Someone who had turned his career into a weapon against him and was now threatening everything he held dear.
The tracker in his shoulder felt like it was burning, a constant reminder he was being hunted.But Mike was right—now that they knew about it, the hunted could become the hunter.
He just prayed they could move fast enough to protect Nica from whatever came next.
Mike’s phone buzzed with a text message.He glanced at it and his expression darkened.
“What is it?”Gabe asked.
“My contact at the Bureau just ran the serial number from your tracking chip.”Mike’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.“It’s military grade, Gabe.The kind of technology that’s supposed to be classified, and not available for sale to the public.”
The implications hit like a sledgehammer.Whoever was doing this had connections that went far beyond what they’d imagined.This wasn’t just about his career or his past at Stanford—this was something much bigger, much more sinister and dangerous.
And Nica was smack dab in the middle of it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Adjusting his Italiansilk tie, he stepped closer to the wall of monitors that dominated his home office.The penthouse overlooked Silicon Valley’s glittering expanse, but his attention was fixed on the smaller screen in the center, the one displaying a red dot moving through the streets of Shiloh Springs, Texas.Dr.Gabriel Summers, going about his mundane daily routine, completely unaware that every breath he took was monitored, catalogued, and counted down like sands through an hourglass.
“Three years, nine months, and eighteen days,” he murmured, his fingers dancing across the custom keyboard.The tracking chip he’d had secretly implanted in Summers during what the good doctor believed was a routine tetanus booster had performed flawlessly.Military-grade technology had its advantages when you had the connections and the bank account to acquire it.It had been surprisingly easy to bribe a tech to inject the GPS tracking chip.Of course, the technician was no longer an issue either.
The photograph on his mahogany desk caught the lamplight—Melissa’s radiant smile frozen in time, her arms wrapped around eight-year-old Emma and six-year-old Jake at the beach that fateful summer.Their last summer together as a family.His throat constricted to the point where he could barely breathe as he traced the frame’s silver edge.They would have been his children by now.He should have been their father, teaching Jake to throw a football, watching Emma come down the staircase dressed for her first prom.Instead, they were living with Melissa’s ex-husband in Oregon, and probably forgetting what his voice sounded like, forgetting the man who’d loved them like his own.
All because of Dr.Gabriel Summers.
The secure phone buzzed.He glanced at the caller ID before answering.“Report.”
“The blonde’s getting sloppy,” came the gravelly voice of his lead operative in that crappy little town in Texas, the one where Summers thought he could hide out, build a new life.Like Melissa hadn’t even mattered.“Spotted Jennings twice this week.She’s rattled, boss.Keeps looking over her shoulder.”
“She was supposed to spot Jennings.He did his job and he’s no longer in Texas.He spooked her, and in turn pulled her husband into her paranoia.Fear keeps people predictable.”He pulled up another screen—surveillance footage from outside the bakery on Main Street, the one co-owned by Nica Boudreau-Summers’ mother.Nica walked toward her car, blonde hair catching the streetlight.So young, so vibrant, so blissfully unaware that with a single call her entire world would come crashing down around her.“What about our inside assets?”
“Rodriguez is in position at the hospital.Thompson’s got eyes on the sheriff’s department.And your boy at the FBI field office in Austin?He has been really helpful with intel on Agent Reynolds’ movements.”
Tapping on the keyboard, the computer screen on his right pulled up a photo of Michael Reynolds, the FBI agent who had traveled to Texas to help his buddy.Looking at his records, the man was intelligent, highly respected by his fellow agents in the Behavioral Analysis Unit, and on the fast track for promotion.Yet, he’d put everything on hold to help his friend Gabe Summers.
A smile filled with cold satisfaction spread across his lips.Money truly could buy anything, even federal employees with gambling debts and expensive tastes.He’d managed to obtain a valuable asset in the FBI Austin office.He considered making Mike Reynolds an offer he couldn’t turn down but passed on the idea.Reynolds was too squeaky clean.Sometimes those Boy Scout types could ruin things with their holier-than-thou attitudes.
“Excellent.It’s time to accelerate our timeline.”
“Sir?”
“I’m tired of this game.”Turning back toward the monitors, he watched Summers’ dot move toward the apartment complex he called home, toward his pretty little wife and her warm, welcoming family.The Boudreaus embraced the doctor like a son, giving him acceptance and love, just like what should have been his when he married Melissa.“Summers has had months to wonder, to worry, to lose sleep.But he still gets to wake up next to his pretty little bride every morning.Still gets to play house with a family he doesn’t deserve.”
The memory of that terrible night rushed back—sterile hospital corridors, the endless silence after the infernal beeping of the machines and their death song, and Melissa’s hand cold in his as the life he’d dreamed about and planned for drained away.Routine surgery, they’d said.A simple gallbladder removal.But Summers had been impaired, his hands unsteady, his judgment compromised.The medical board could clear him all they wanted.He knew the truth.Knew its name—murder.
“He took everything from me.”His reflection shimmered ghostlike on the monitor’s surface.“My future, my family, my reason for breathing.Now it’s my turn.”
