Page 43 of Juan

“We dig into his life,” Callie said. Grace nodded. “We turn over every stone, look around every corner, take it apart piece by piece.”

“That easy?” Amber said with a rueful grin.

“Not easy, but worth it. As they say, the hard things usually are,” Grace said.

“And you’d be surprised what we find when we do this,” Callie said. Amber looked at her. “We have a lot of questions, a lot of tactical questions—how does he get the drug, how does he distribute it, how does he get paid, how do people know about him, and how does he mitigate that risk?” she said, reciting the litany of questions they’d all been asking. “But if we start with his life, if we start by picking it apart and focusing on why he’s doing this, I expect we’ll find answers to the how as well.”

Chapter twenty-one

There was no question where Juan would sleep that night, not after what he and Amber had shared the night before. Whether they had a repeat or not didn’t matter, not in the scheme of things. He wanted that connection and closeness, craved the release and satisfaction of pleasuring her. But holding Amber, falling asleep next to her, waking beside her, settled something deep inside him. Something he hadn’t known he needed.

With that certainty in mind, after dinner, he dropped a kiss on her welcoming lips, another on Zoe’s downy head, then slipped outside to the garage the club used to restore bikes and cars. Flicking on the lights, his gaze landed on the Vincent Black Shadow Series C Dulcie was almost done with. They’d never worked with the owner before, or on such a rare bike, but so far, both Dulcie and the owner were pleased. As were the rest of the brothers. Gaining a name for themselves in the ultra rare market would be a coup.

But the bike didn’t call to him tonight. He’d assisted Dulcie on a few things, but cars were his specialty. Neither of the two currently sitting in the garage needed attention, either, but tinkering with them would give him something to do with his hands and body. Freeing his mind to work out the problem tangled inside his head.

Anthony Ely.

More specifically, how to make sure he went down hard and fast. And permanently. Not only did the man deserve it, but Juan wanted him out of Amber and Zoe’s life with no possibility of ever popping up again. Those two were his family now, in a way the Falcons weren’t. Each important but different. And they were his to protect. His to protect in a way he’d never had growing up.

If nothing else, his tumultuous, unstable childhood had taught him everything he never wanted. But until recently, he hadn’t had much cause to think about what he did want. Now that Amber and Zoe were a part of him, he knew, though. Safety, security, love. As cliché as it was, he wanted them to have roots and wings and confidence to trust in both.

But first, they needed to deal with Anthony Ely.

Flicking on another light, he walked over to the ’68 Shelby. With the hood lifted, he let his gaze settle on the partially constructed engine block.

What if they couldn’t find evidence showing that Anthony had something to do with the murders? What if they couldn’t prove they were murders at all? Their entire “case” hinged on the murders being provable. If that fell apart, so would everything else.

Well, they might be able to bring charges against Anthony for what he did to Zoe and Amber. But chances were, if there was a way to cleanly and quickly cut him out of their lives forever, while also protecting Adrian and Clara, Amber wouldn’t go that route. She’d trade a potential prosecution for guaranteed security, if possible. And he didn’t blame her for that. She wasn’t just fighting for herself in this. She had Zoe, Clara, and Adrian to think about.

He drummed his fingers on the edge of the metal bumper valance as he turned the problem over in his mind. Would it do any good to have someone tailing Anthony? Or maybe they could manage to get a few listening devices, maybe even cameras, into his house? He didn’t doubt HICC had the means to do it, but did he want to ask them? He’d do it himself, but didn’t trust his skills, not this long out of the teams. There’d been a time when he wouldn’t have blinked an eye at sliding through the night, entering enemy territory, placing a few surprises, and slipping back out again. That they’d be cameras and bugs rather than explosives added a twist, but the basics were the same.

He’d been out of the habit long enough that he feared he’d grown rusty, though. And he wouldn’t risk it. Part of protecting Amber and Zoe meant he had to be around to do just that. He couldn’t be there for them if he got arrested for breaking and entering.

His attention jerked up when the handle on the door twisted, then swung open as North walked in, followed by Scipio. Now if anyone could slip in and out of a house unseen, North could. The man looked barely out of high school, even in his early thirties, and moved like a fucking ghost. But even so, Juan would never ask it of him. North didn’t regret his time in the army, but violence and subterfuge went against his natural instincts. Juan didn’t want his brother to ever have to make that choice again.

“You want company?” Scipio asked, joining him at the car and leaning against the driver’s door.

Juan gave the question real thought before shrugging. He honestly didn’t know if he did or not.

“We’ll stay until you tell us to go,” North said, walking to the fridge they kept against the back wall. Pulling out three bottles of beer, he handed them out, twisting the tops off as he did.

“It’s feeling shaky, isn’t it?” Scipio said. Leave it to Scipio to zero in on the problem. The man could strategize the takeover of a small country in his sleep. He saw risks and contingencies as clearly as reading a road map. Juan didn’t even want to know the full picture he saw when it came to dealing with Anthony Ely. The pitfalls and hazards he’d come up with on his own were quite enough, thank you.

He nodded before taking a sip of his drink. “Everything hinges on being able to prove those eleven people were murdered, or that at least some of them were. Without that, we’re dead in the water.”

“And even if we can prove it, it’s still a stretch to link the deaths to Anthony,” Scipio said. Juan gave a reluctant nod. He’d been thinking the same. But thinking it and admitting it were two different things.

“Leo and HICC can track his digital trail. Using CCTV, they can even track his physical trail. But none of that can replace having someone on the ground. Someone inserting themself into his life. Someone who can see things firsthand,” North said.

Juan inclined his head, not at all surprised he and his brothers thought along the same lines. “He won’t trust easily, though. It’s unlikely he’d let someone new infiltrate his life. But what about someone tailing him? What about getting bugs or cameras in his home? I don’t know how much business he does at home, but based on what Amber’s said, it’s his kingdom. The place he feels most in control.”

“And where he rules. Where he feels most comfortable,” Scipio added.

“Especially if he believes no one suspects him of anything. I’m guessing he’s paranoid, but arrogant. Men like him think their home is their fortress and that no one will dare lay siege,” North said.

“But can we lay siege?” Juan asked. “Stealthily and safely?”

North and Scipio shared a look.