“I think it’s a high probability. Obviously not for his gain since he ended up dead.”
“Can you trace the feeds?” Hunter asked.
“The transponder looks Internet enabled.”
“If we turn off our Internet, it will stop reporting feeds?”
“I’d need a lab to see if it holds its own hotspot.”
“So whoever is listening . . . watching . . . could be anywhere in the world?” Gabi asked.
“But close enough to rig your car and know when you come and go. No, my gut says whoever did this is physically close.”
Gabi pinched her eyes with her free hand. “What a nightmare.”
“We’ve removed the bugs and are searching for more.”
“Won’t the police want to know about the bugs?”
“I’ll tell them,” Neil said as he turned away. “Eventually.”
He moved back into the house, leaving Gabi and Hunter standing in the driveway.
“You should be resting,” he told her.
“And you should be here. I realize this marriage is a complete farce, but you could at least pretend to care.” She turned, not letting him reply. Instead of moving into the master bedroom full of bugs and men stripping the room, she detoured to the guest room that was void a television and slammed the door.
She flopped on the bed, instantly regretted the force with which she landed, and propped her broken arm on a pillow.
When her eyes started to leak, she told herself it was the pain in her arm causing it.
Hunter crossed the threshold behind Gabi. His feet faltered when he realized the magnitude of destruction Neil and his team had managed in search of bugs.
No wonder Gabi was so upset. She’d worked so hard to create a holiday on an empty canvas to have it all look like the Grinch showed up and took it all down.
Andrew met him in the living room. “These men are like bulls in a china shop.”
“I can see that.”
Hunter’s nose caught his attention and had him twisting around.
Laying on the kitchen island were drying racks and platters filled with cookies and sweet breads. His mouth watered and he licked his lips.
One of Neil’s workers swept a cookie from the counter and waved it in the air. “I’m addicted.”
“What’s all that?”
Andrew crossed to the kitchen and positioned a nutcracker that had been nudged out of place. “Seems Gabi bakes when she’s upset.”
“With one hand?” Hunter asked.
“She managed.”
He’d forgotten to eat lunch and approached the mini bakery with a growling stomach. He picked up something that looked like a tiny glazed breadstick sprinkled with sesame seeds and popped it in his mouth. “Oh, my God,” he muttered with a full mouth.
Someone behind him caught Andrew’s attention. “Hey, watch that.”
Andrew shot past him to keep one of the mini trees in the dining room from being toppled over.
Hunter’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen to see a text message from Remington.
Cargo is airborne.
He placed his hands on the counter and slumped his head. His brother had done the right thing . . . well, he’d taken the money, but Hunter expected nothing less.
And Hayden was safe.
A strange empty space inside him opened up. He’d gotten used to the idea of a child in his life. Even if it wasn’t his son, Hunter was ready. He’d never held the child, nor had he seen him outside of a photograph, but the loss wasn’t mistakable. Hayden left a strange hole.
Neil’s men started to funnel out of the main living quarters of the house and into the backyard.
Andrew was righting the mess they left.
Hunter shrugged out of his jacket and joined him.
They worked together in silence.
The living and dining rooms were set. A decent dent had been made out of Gabi’s cooking before Neil’s men wound up their equipment and left.
Andrew called for a dinner delivery and Neil hung back.
“Have you heard from our guy?” Neil asked.
Hunter shook his head.
“You will. He won’t like his eyes and ears being taken away.”
“Are you sure they’re all gone?”
Neil offered one affirmative nod.
“What’s the next step?”
“We wait.”
The weight of the day started to pull Hunter down. “Like pawns on a chessboard.”
“This guy isn’t used to waiting. It won’t be long.”
Hunter was about to ask him what he meant when Rick popped his head into the room.
“We’re all set downstairs.”
“Downstairs?”
Neil turned away. “Follow me.”
They twisted down the steps and into the wine cellar that had yet to be stocked with anything but dust.
In the center of the room was a desk and four monitors. A man Hunter didn’t recognize sat with his back to them, a set of earphones on his head. He clicked a mouse, typed something in, and then realized they were standing there.
He pulled off the earphones and pushed the rolling chair away from the desk. “We’re all set,” he told Neil.
Hunter peered closer. The monitors were images sent from all parts of the house. Hallways, kitchen . . . living room. He saw the Christmas tree in full living color. The backyard was a set of shapes as if through some kind of night vision lens.
One of the security guards outside walked by a camera, and the lens followed him until he was out of the frame.
“Have you two met?” Neil asked Hunter as he pointed to the other man.
The other man extended a hand. “Dennis. I’ve been watching on the other side.”