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What kind of business required this level of surveillance? And more importantly, how far was Mason willing to go to protect the people he cared about?
As they sped through the damp streets, following the blinking dot on the tracker, she could only hope she hadn’t made a huge mistake. They tailed the van to several houses, watching as the driver dropped off cardboard boxes. She snapped photos from a safe distance, her phone clicking softly in the quiet car.
An hour later, the van was empty and heading back to the warehouse. Her mind raced, thinking about all those packages. Each one could be the key to cracking this case wide open.
“I don’t see any way to get a search warrant,” she mused aloud, frustration coloring her tone. “The pills Paul found won’t be enough, not even with his testimony. Maybe we can dig into the backgrounds of the people who got the deliveries? See if anything shakes loose?”
Mason interrupted her, his voice sharp. “Enough fooling around. I’ll get you the evidence you need.”
She blinked. “How?”
He gave her a look that made her blood run cold. “You don’t want to know.”
She swallowed hard, meeting his gaze head-on. “Yes, I do.”
Mason shook his head, his jaw tight. “Seriously, you don’t. I’m going to take you back to Bridger’s place and have you check on Paul. Then I’ll handle this. My way.”
She should argue. Order him to stand down. But as he navigated them back to the swanky neighborhood, her mind whirled. The truth hit her. She didn’t want him to stand down.
How had she gone from being a stickler for the rules to this? She closed her eyes, sending up a silent prayer. Was it right to adhere to the law one hundred percent? Or should she follow her gut and let Mason help her find the evidence they needed to take down Rain Bay?
“Hey,” Mason interrupted her thoughts as they crossed the causeway, the waters of Lake Washington glinting in the pale sunlight. “This isn’t your decision, if that makes you feel any better. I’m doing this for Paul. He might be a blockhead, but he doesn’t deserve to run for the rest of his life just because he took the wrong job. I’m doing this. You can’t stop me.”
She nodded, a lump forming in her throat. He was right. She couldn’t stop him. But …
“Turn around,” she said suddenly, her voice ringing with determination.
Mason glanced at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
“I’m coming with you. This is my investigation. My responsibility.”
For a long moment, Mason eyed the road ahead, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. “Sir, yes, sir,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.
Avery couldn’t help but smile back, even as nerves fluttered in her stomach. Her father had died doing what he knew he had to do. Letting Mason cross some legal lines would hardly cost her her life, though it might sever the shaky hold she still had on her career.
If that meant saving lives, so be it. She was all in.
19
Mason strodeinto Bridger’s mansion, two small cardboard boxes tucked under his arm.
Avery followed on his heels, her footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor.
“You know, when I said we needed evidence, I didn’t mean for you to go all Ocean’s Eleven.”
Mason let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “Oh, come on. It was more like Ocean’s One. I didn’t need a whole team to pull off a little heist.”
“Little heist? Mason, you just stole packages from peoples’ doorsteps!”
“Borrowed. I borrowed packages. Meds that are probably fake. And dangerous.”
Avery sighed, rubbing her temple. “That’s not the point. This whole breaking the law thing is new to me.”
Mason stopped and turned to face her, holding out the boxes. “You want me to put these back? It’s no problem, but there goes your investigation. Either we move ahead, or I get Paul out of here. You choose.”
Avery’s cheeks flushed with anger.
“Don’t forget you agreed to this,” he added.
