He set her back gently, keeping his arms on her shoulders, as he gazed into those eyes he’d come to love. “I usually run like hell from messes, but do you see me going anywhere?”
She smiled through her tears. “I’m glad you’re here. Honestly, I’d be lost if you weren’t.”
Malachi wiped the tears from her face, and as Thomas rejoined them, he picked up a bag. “We’re going to need this vehicle analyzed.”
“Already on it.” Thomas told them. He glanced at Mia. “You good, Livingston?”
Her gaze went down rather than to the open doors of the van. “I can smell it, can you? Rotten flowers. Embalming fluid.”
She was right. Malachi detected it now, too. “At some point, they disguised it as a florist van, and who knows what they were actually transporting in it. Drugs, guns, people.” It had a high ceiling, nine-foot at least, and it would be easy, even for him, to stand upright in it. All this time they’d been looking for a building.
Mia took a deep, audible breath and met both his and Thomas’s eyes. “I’m good.”
“What’s in the bag?” Thomas asked.
“Cameras, in case Horvat or King come back.” Malachi tossed it at him. “Make yourself useful.”
Twenty-Four
Inside, they went to work.
Malachi kept one eye on Mia as they did. She was shaky, but determined, and she and Thomas helped him connect the cameras through a Wi-Fi system that he installed in a cabinet to hide it.
They checked for additional false floors or fake walls, searching for any kind of room that might hold Amber, but came up with nothing. Dusty and tired, they called it quits, and Malachi picked a cobweb from Mia’s hair as they exited the building and jogged down the steps of the dock.
“Well, well, who do we have here?” The man’s voice brought all three of them up short.
“Horvat.” Malachi’s stomach twisted. A limo was hidden in the shadow of the delivery truck. The asshole had two men with him holding guns, and another dressed in a tasteful, expensive suit. He looked like a younger, thinner version of his father. “And Newt Marcher.”
“Very good,” Marcher said. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Hands up,” a man with a semi-automatic demanded in heavily accented English. He and his gun-wielding companion appeared to be Asian. Nervous ones, at that. Their hands both shook, making the weapons tremble.
Thomas and Malachi did as instructed. Mia didn’t. She stepped toward Horvat. “Where’s Amber? Where is my sister?”
“Don’t!” Malachi reached for her, but he was too late.
Horvat grabbed her and jerked her to him, wrapping his arm around her neck and producing a pistol. H smiled and pointed it at her temple. “It’s been a while, my lovely Mia.” He rubbed the side of his cheek against hers and she whimpered, eyes suddenly wild. “Be a good girl and don’t move, or I’ll blow your brains out.”
Newt laid a hand on him. “Not yet.” He glanced at Thomas and Malachi. “All I want is for my sister to be released from jail. I get her, you get both Livingstons.”
He sounded like a suave businessman making a casual deal. It rankled Malachi’s nerves. “Hurt her and you’ll die.”
Horvat snorted. “I get this one, regardless. That was our deal.”
Mia made a mewing sound in the back of her throat, her eyes locked on Malachi. He tried his best to show her he wasn’t scared.
It was a lie.
Newt regarded Horvat with a cool gaze. “Do I need to remind you of your screwup? That you failed to take care of Mr. King, as you promised? When you don’t hold up your end of a deal, I don’t hold up mine.”
“I’ll make a call.” Thomas pointed at his pocket. “My boss will cut a deal for the mayor.”
“Why do you want Constance?” Mia asked through gritted teeth.
“She has something of mine.” The slick smile returned, with a touch of greed thrown in. “I need it back.”
Like what, Malachi wondered. Didn’t matter—he had to make a compromise here and save Mia. “Constance means nothing to the Feds. They’ll be happy to make the exchange, but only if Mia walks away unharmed.”
