The Professional. Addison Fox

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The Professional - Addison  Fox

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Panic washed like icy needles over his skin.

      “What?”

      The man’s eyes widened as Max moved toward his chair, his large form hovering over the tech. “Pull it up. The driveway camera. Now.”

      Jake did as he was told, his hands flying, and in moments the driveway camera footage came into full view.

      Along with an image of Violet being dragged toward a waiting car.

      “Call the police!” Max shouted the order as he ran hell-for-leather toward the front door.

      * * *

      Tripp Lange stared at the heap of very attractive woman deposited on the bench seat opposite him as they put Dallas in their rearview mirror. They’d already stopped at his private home on the outskirts of town and changed into the waiting car Alex had prepared in advance. So now, barely twenty minutes after snatching the woman, they were headed for the Hill Country.

      Alex had done well, as always. He’d waited for the perfect moment, then leaped.

      The fact Violet Richardson had made the snatch-and-grab relatively easy with her late-night stroll was beside the point. They had her.

      And through her, he’d get the rubies and his wife back.

      “What did you use, Alex?”

      The man’s voice was crisp and clear from the front seat. “That sedative I’ve been working on. I’ve changed the ratio of sedative to paralytic, and I think it’s the right one. She’ll come to, but it will take her longer to get her bearings.”

      “Good.”

      They had a two-hour drive ahead of them, and Tripp wanted to make sure Violet stayed out.

      “And her cell phone?”

      Alex waved the device through the window partition. “Already off.”

      Tripp studied the woman, her slender body relaxed in sleep. A black suit covered her in prim lines, but the hint of skin at her throat and chest suggested there was something of a tiger beneath the gloss. She was on the taller side—at least five-six—and another four inches added with the heels.

      All in all, an incredibly attractive package.

      But one that hid, for the most part, behind severe suits and an all-business attitude.

      She was a calculated risk, no doubt. Alex had spent a fair amount of time observing her, and she was no one’s pushover. The previous week, his man of business had witnessed her dealing with a hotel manager who’d thought to change the terms of their agreement. Alex had been more than impressed with her handling of the situation.

      Which also meant she’d be a challenge to break on the path to securing what he wanted.

      It was a good thing he knew not only how to break people but also exactly what made Violet Richardson vulnerable.

      * * *

      Max shoved a hand through his still military-short hair and fought the urge to scream at the team of police parked at the hotel’s service entrance. Per the manager’s request, they’d moved out of sight of the departing guests, and it still chapped Max’s ass. Violet was one of theirs, and they were acting as if her disappearance from their grounds needed to be covered up.

      Instead, all it meant was they were wasting precious time.

      Reed laid a hand on his shoulder and gestured him a few feet away from the cruiser.

      “My stepfather was released from jail late this afternoon.”

      The news hit with the force of an atomic bomb, and for one of the rare moments of his life, Max was speechless. Quickly gathering himself, he let out a roar. “What the hell, Reed?”

      “I’m trying to find out on whose, orders but you know as well as I do his connections run deep.”

      Max did know. Since discovering the rubies in the floor of Violet’s shop, he’d come to understand just how devious and corrupt some people could be.

      And how deeply buried they could keep those facets of their personality.

      “The man’s been paying off the whole freaking city. I have no idea who I can trust,” Reed said.

      The haze of worry for Violet broke for a moment as Max caught sight of the craggy lines of anxiety that painted Reed’s face. He knew what the man had been through over the past week, first finding out his life was a lie both personally and professionally, and then having to put his mother into hiding from his stepfather. “Is there anyone you can ask?”

      “I’ve got a few contacts, but I need to see them directly. Get a feel for them as I ask questions. Lilah’s going to stay with Tucker and Cassidy while I do.”

      Fear for Violet and the increasing distance her kidnappers put between them rose back up to swamp him in another nasty wave. “They haven’t found any trace of her? Nothing on traffic cams?”

      “No.” Reed glanced toward the assembled police. “They lost them after a few lights here downtown. No one’s picked up a trail yet.”

      “Where could he be taking her?”

      “How the hell should I know? He’s got warrens hidden everywhere from what I’ve been able to uncover privately. Places buried so deep it would take an honest team at the PD days to find them.”

      Reed’s words echoed in his ear, the reference to an honest team rolling over and over in Max’s mind. From his time in the corps he knew how important it was to trust your comrades—your backup—and the anguish Reed was feeling was tangible. “Wait. Look, you’ve been with the Dallas PD for how long?”

      “Almost fifteen years.”

      “And in all that time, nothing’s jangled? No one’s seemed off?”

      A small light filtered through the man’s grim gaze. “Hell, yeah. There are those folks people whisper about. The jackasses who always seem to keep their jobs despite the screw-ups. Or who always manage to fade under the radar every time something goes sideways. Why?”

      “Because the entire force isn’t dirty. It can’t be. What you likely have is a small group who need to keep their own counsel and secrets. Rout them out and you find the problem.”

      Max watched Reed weigh his words and continued to work through the problem in his mind. Every way he turned it, the truth seemed more and more clear. Dallas was a huge city, and the majority of its citizens were good, law-abiding people. For Tripp Lange to have as much power and influence as he did—and for no one to know about it—the cancer in the department had to be relatively contained.

      “Come on. Think through the people you trust. We’ll start there and work it through.”

      “There’s a guy I went through the academy with. He’s one of our lead detectives on digital forensics. He’s a good guy. A family man with strong ethics.”

      “Let’s go.”

      *

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