“I ain’t giving nothing up.” The guy’s gaze darted behind Noah to Levon, then the hallway where the rest of the team stood. His hands shook slightly on his gun, but he kept it raised. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Oh, I think there is.” Levon said, moving forward alongside Noah. “If you cooperate, we might be able to work out a deal.”
The thought of this piece of shit getting a break gutted Noah. But if it meant catching the real person paying all these thugs to attack Serena, he’d deal with it. “Who hired you?”
“Don’t know.” The guy shook his head, taking a step back toward the windows. “It was all done over text. I never got a name. Just instructions and a down payment, wired into my bank account. Get the other half when I bring in proof that I’ve taken out the bitch.”
Noah’s finger twitched on the trigger of Glock. “Give me your phone.”
“Like hell,” the guy said, inching back even more. It was a fifty-foot drop out there. Unless the guy had hidden wings, he’d meet an early end by jumping. Noah wasn’t opposed to seeing him reach room temperature sooner rather than later, but he’d be damned if the guy did so without telling him what he needed to know first. Still, if they could take him down in the room, it would be a lot easier for everyone. “You think I’m stupid? I ain’t giving you shit.”
Levon glanced over at him and they exchanged a silent look. They’d trained together enough to have a secret code of eye movements and gestures they communicated by at this point. Based on the flat stare and the slight tilt of his head, Noah knew that Levon was going to rush the guy. Noah would run point, dodging to the other side and disarming him before he hit the floor.
To keep him distracted, Noah gave the guy one last chance. “Put down the gun and give me your phone and we can do this nicely. Final warning.”
“Take your warning and shove it up—” the guy started, but before he could finish, Levon attacked. The next few seconds happened in a blur. Levon crashed into the guy and knocked him sideways, while Noah rushed him from the opposite direction. Spencer managed to clock Levon hard in the jaw, mainly out of pure luck, and scrambled up onto the window ledge to smash the glass. He’d gotten one leg outside when Levon rallied and latched onto his ankle. Noah grabbed the other leg and together they pulled him back inside, even as he was cursing and screaming about his constitutional rights.
Finally, Noah got the guy pinned to the floor, belly down, and twisted one of his arms behind his back while he knelt atop the guy’s legs to keep him from kicking again. Levon frisked him and found his phone, pulling it out and prying the back off to get to the SIM card inside.
“Got it!” Levon said, scrambling to his feet to take the thing out to Clint in the hallway, who’d brought a reader along just in case this situation arose.
While they downloaded the records from the bounty hunter’s phone to Clint’s laptop, Noah got the guy handcuffed, then plunked him down on the bed so the cops could take him away.
“I want a lawyer!” Spencer screamed at Noah.
“And I want a million bucks and a private island to live on. Deal with it,” Noah grumbled. Actually, what he really wanted was a cute little house like the one Levon and Olive had and all the time in the world to spend with Serena and Gracie, but he wasn’t about to tell this asshole that. Besides, it wasn’t like it would ever happen anyway. Not with his past, and Serena’s future.
It was a real nice dream, though.
“Uh, Noah,” Clint yelled from the hallway. “Can you come here a minute?”
Cursing under his breath, Noah called two of the other guys over to watch Spencer, then went back out into the hall where Levon and Clint stood. “What’s wrong?”
Levon frowned down at the computer screen then up at Noah. “You’re not going to like what I found.”
“Why? Is it a dead end? Does it not tell us who’s behind this?” He moved in beside Clint and narrowed his gaze at the records on the laptop. “Or is it some drug cartel? Because I swear to God, I’ll—”
A few seconds ticked by as his brain comprehended what he was seeing. The name beside the numbers on the computer wasn’t some hardened criminal or cartel boss. Nope. It was much worse than that. Noah’s breath seized in his lungs and his stomach plummeted to his toes.
“Shit! That’s Serena’s brother. Nate.” Noah blinked several times, hoping the image might change, but it didn’t. He looked from the screen to Clint, then back again. “He’s trying to take out his own sister?”
Clint sighed and gave a curt nod. “Looks that way. The order for the hit and the deposit into this guy’s bank account both came from numbers that trace back to Nate Carson.”
“But why?” Noah scowled. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Uh, according to this news story, Serena inherited the CEO position for her family’s entire candy company. The brother works there too, but in a lower position. Maybe he resents it. Or maybe he thinks he’d get the top slot if she was out of the way. People have done a lot worse for a lot less than greed,” Levon said, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “Sorry, dude. Serena’s going to be upset.”
That was the understatement of the century. His mind ticked back to the few conversations they’d had about her family. She’d called the guy from the casino in St. Dourdane to let him know she was okay. And all the while the fucker was plotting to kill her.
Hell, that must have been how Spencer had found them that night at the hotel. Serena’s
