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“And her car is still there?”
Jared tapped on the keyboard and leaned in. “No. She took off about ten minutes later, heading north up to the mountains.” Jared paused, clicking a few more buttons. “Her speed is off.”
Trey leaned closer to the screen. “What?”
“Well, she follows a pattern for the first few hours. No more than five miles over the speed limit, but when she left Grove Mill, it was clocking her at about thirty over, and those roads are hard to navigate at that speed. Unless you know them.”
It was a clear indication Dahlia hadn’t been driving when she left Grove Mill.
“Where’s the car now?” Trey asked.
Jared stared at the screen. “Greene County.”
What the fuck? There was nothing in that part of the state other than farmlands and country. The Underground had used similar areas for one source only. Fuck! Trey pulled out his phone, quickly pulling up his contact.
“Need you to send the screen location to Nash. Now.”
“What the fuck’s going on, Trey?” Rogue demanded as Trey held the phone up to his ear. He pointed at the screen.
“It’s a fucking safe house!”
In their line of work, a safe house meant the polar opposite of what it meant to anyone being brought there. The safety was for the owner, who needed a remote and untraceable location where he could perform whatever wet work, or the spilling of blood, he needed without witnesses.
The phone clicked, and Trey didn’t even wait for a greeting. “Check your computer, Jared sent over…”
“I’m on it now. Just saw it come through. What am I looking at?” Nash asked.
“Whose safe house is that?”
There was a small stretch of silence.
“Who?” Trey shouted, losing his control as he tightened his grip.
“Stark.”
Trey ground his teeth. “It’s Stark.”
“Oh, I’m gonna gut that motherfucker and his whole goddamn crew!” Rogue shouted.
“Trey, what’s…” Nash stopped in mid-sentence, and there was a ruffled noise in the background.
“Trey,” Oz said.
Trey drew in a breath. “Dahlia hasn’t been heard from in hours. Tracked her car to that location.”
“Meet us there,” Oz said, then hung up.
Both clubs were in Lawry but on opposite ends of the large city. Oz would have a twenty-minute head start on them. Trey didn’t waste any time gathering all of their security and calling in those they had on reserve. Combined with Oz’s crew, there’d be an entire army coming for Stark.
Trey did everything he could to batten down his own fear. A few hours was a long time to be holed up at a safe house when its only purpose was for killing. Trey balled his fists, and Rogue grabbed the headrest of the front seat, lunging forward.
“Drive fucking faster!”
They were halfway there when his phone rang from an unknown caller. With his associates, this wasn’t uncommon, and he answered on the second ring.
“Yeah?”
“Trey?”
