Freeing Him: A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2 (24 page)

“You’ve thought this all out, haven’t you?”

“As much as possible. There are things I can’t do on my own. But there is something else I need from you. Your solemn promise not to breathe a word of this to Kolson. He cannot know, under any circumstances, what I’m doing. Swear to me, Case.”

“Damn it, Gabby, this is insane!”

“No, it isn’t. It’s the only way to stop Langston, and I’m pretty sure I can do it. One other thing. Is Kade ready to be moved to Denver? I was thinking maybe this would be a good time to do it. You know… two birds, one stone?”

“Yeah. Good idea. I think he’s through and I have him all set up. All you need to do is make the calls.”

“On it.”

Once Kade’s arrangements are made, I’m sitting at Kolson’s desk hoping he’ll be pleased when my phone rings. It’s Stan Harrison telling me that my father has agreed to my demands.

“What?”

“I guess he’s finally come to his senses. He’s sending everything over and holding a press conference tomorrow.”

“Stan, stop the press conference. In light of Kolson’s disappearance, I don’t really care to have any more attention. The formal written acknowledgement is enough for me now.”

“Dr. Martinelli, are you sure?”

“Positive. I don’t want to bring any more attention to myself.”

“Okay. I’ll let him know.”

“Thanks, Stan.”

This is one less thing I need to worry about. I’m sure my dad will choke as he writes that formal acknowledgement. Fuck it. He’s getting off easy. But the last thing I need is for Langston to see this crap in the media. The less attention, the better.

***

The next morning at 7 a.m., the helicopter takes me to the Philadelphia International Airport. I arrange with Steven, the pilot, for a return trip the next day.

A waiting car takes me to the main terminal. On the way, I receive a text that everything went well with Kade’s flight and check-in at the rehab facility the day before. That’s one less thing I have to worry about. I check in and board for the four-hour flight to Denver. When I get to baggage claim, a tall man with medium-brown hair smiles and asks if I’m Dr. Martinelli. He identifies himself as Troy Huffington, and lets me know he will be escorting me to DWI in downtown Denver.

“I’m guessing Case sent a photo of me?” I ask.

Huff smiles and says, “No, Drex ran a Google search on you. He likes to find out everything he can about his clients.”

“I see.”

It’s late November so the air is brisk and I’m shocked there isn’t snow on the ground. Huff, as he prefers to be called, laughs and points in the direction we’re traveling. In the distance, I see snow-capped mountains.

“That’s where you’ll find the snow. The high country. Drive less than an hour and you’ll find some if you want.”

Soon we pull into an underground parking facility at Drexel Wolfe Investigations, or DWI. The security is crazy, off the charts here. Huff places his hand on a screen and his entire handprint lights up before the garage door raises. That’s
before
we get to the guards.

“Paranoid much?” I ask.

“Not paranoid. Just extremely cautious. We take our jobs, our clients, and our safety seriously around here.”

“I can see that.” It’s very comforting, though.

We hit the security gate and they acknowledge Huff. He turns to me. “They need your ID so they can create a badge for you.”

I hand Huff my driver’s license and within a few minutes, security hands him back my license and a DWI ID badge for me.

“You’ll need to wear this whenever you’re inside the building.”

“Okay.” I clip it to my jacket.

He parks and we walk to another elevator, which requires his handprint. A security camera and a video feed track our every movement.

“Good morning, Mr. Huffington. You and your guest are cleared to enter.”

The door opens and we take the elevator up to the top level. When we walk out, there is yet more security to go through.

“Is it like this on every floor?”

Huff laughs. “Yeah, but you get used to it. We have sensitive materials we deal with so we never take chances.”

“Good to know.” And it is.

We wind through this floor of offices and arrive at a set of thick, frosted-glass double doors. There is another biometric hand scanner and right before we enter, he asks, “Do you need to use the restroom?”

“No, but if I do, will I need to use my handprint like that?”

Huff laughs. “I need to share that one with Gemini.”

“Gemini?”

“You’ll meet her in a minute.”

“Oh.”

“Come on in,” he says.

The doors slide open to reveal something that looks like the Starship Enterprise.

“Holy crap. Beam me up, Scotty. What is this place?”

“Think tank and brain central for DWI.”

The deep voice makes me jump. I spin around and look at a huge wall of solid muscle. Piercing blue-gray eyes stare back at me and this is one seriously scary dude. I would not want to cross him.

“Take a seat. I’m Drexel Wolfe.”

“Hi. Gabby Martinelli. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Dr. Martinelli.”

“Please, call me Gabby.”

“And you can call me Drex.”

The doors have barely closed when in breezes the most gorgeous woman alive. I’m sure my mouth hangs down to the floor. Long, black hair, eyes the darkest I’ve ever seen. She’s positively exotic.

“Hey! Sorry I’m running late. You must be Dr. Martinelli. I’m Gemini. It’s great to meet you.”

Her hand reaches for mine and I shake it. It’s strong and firm, and confidence rolls off her. I find myself in awe.

“It’s nice to meet you too. Please, call me Gabby.”

“What kind of doctor are you?” she asks.

“A psychiatrist.”

“Oh, would I love to pick your brain about that one over there.” She points to Drexel, a mischievous look on her face.

“Gem, stop. We have work to do.”

“Uh-huh.” She leans toward me. “Men. They always have
work
to do when they want to change the subject, don’t they?” She winks at me.

I immediately like her. I take a seat and Gemini sits next to me. Drex and Huff sit across from us.

“So, Gabby, what can we do for you?”

There’s no place like the beginning so that’s where I start. I don’t stop until I’m finished telling them everything I know about Langston Hart and what I want them to do. Or rather what I’m hoping they’ll help me do.

No one says a word. Finally, Drexel says, “So what I’m getting from you is that you want me to somehow get you inside of his home and help you get him to confess that he’s a part of the Mob and that he’s related to a string of crimes dating back to when Kolson was a kid? And you also want him to admit his sons had no part in these criminal activities? And you want him to tell you that he basically bought his kids under duress and mentally abused them in order to get them to do what he wanted for years? And all of this while you’re wearing a wire.”

“Yeah, but when you put it like that, it sounds crazy.”

“That’s because it is.”

And he just hands me my ass. This is my only chance to persuade him to help me. Without him, I don’t stand a chance of bringing Langston down.

“I can see why you’d say that. But I need to explain something to you. Kolson and his two brothers were basically stolen from their mothers. Langston did some terrible things to three young boys.” And I begin with how he kept Kolson in the dark for months. How he deprived him of light. Of food and water when he wouldn’t “behave.” And then I tell him what I think happened to Kestrel. “I’m not even sure what happened to Kade, but he’s been living on the streets, he’s addicted to drugs, and God only knows what else he’s been through. Langston Hart is a monster and needs to be sent to prison. But he has erected a wall of protection around himself that’s pretty much impenetrable. Kolson will get himself killed trying to take Langston down alone. And if I don’t do something, and fast, to stop him, it’s going to happen soon. Please help me. I don’t know what you can or can’t do. All I’m asking is that you give me the help to do this. I know it’s dangerous and expensive, but I’m willing to pay whatever your price is.”

Then Drexel shocks me by saying, “Did you know that Kolson hired me to find Danny Martinelli?”

The corners of my mouth curl. “I wondered how he found him. Kolson told me what he did. Look, I know this is the Mob we’re talking about and it’s probably the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done. That’s why I couldn’t meet you in New York. They’re following every move I make. It’s not safe for me there. I have to travel with a bodyguard now.”

“Drex,” Gemini says. I can’t see her face, but his entire demeanor softens when he focuses on her.

Then I’m confused when Drexel turns to Huff. “Huff, will you excuse us for a minute?”

Huff gets up without a word and leaves.

Drex leans on the table with his forearms and looks at me. No, I take that back. He doesn’t look; he assesses, analyzes, and dissects me. “Dr. Martinelli. Gabby. This Mob business. It doesn’t scare me in the slightest. And I know all about the dark. I lived in a box underground in Iraq for weeks until my unit figured out where I was being held prisoner. I was beaten, tortured, and starved. I’ve had terrorists after my ass, assassins have tried to kill me, not to mention I’ve seen my wife—that beautiful woman sitting next to you—strapped with enough C-4 to take out six city blocks. So fuck the Mob. What I’m concerned about is whether
you
have the wherewithal to do this and whether
I
can gather enough intel to get inside Hart’s home in the time frame we need and get what’s necessary once we’re in there. I’m not sure what information you have on him, but if the FBI can’t get what they need to bring him down, I’m pretty damn sure what you have is miniscule.”

Whoa. I’m blown away.
A hole in the ground in Iraq? What the hell? Who is this man?

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Why don’t we start with exactly what you have?”

“I don’t have a thing. That’s what I need you for. All I know is that Kolson walked away from his father’s business because he said he was involved with organized crime and Kolson didn’t want to have anything to do with that. Kolson disappeared after Danny’s death. His father was responsible for that. Kolson was supposed to repay a debt and his father wanted HTS as payment. Kolson had everything signed over to me and disappeared so Langston couldn’t get it.”

“Do you know where Kolson is?”

“Yes and no. I have contact with him and he visits me, but I don’t know where he’s staying.”

Drexel nods. “Do you want the FBI involved?”

“I don’t want Kolson or his brothers implicated. They don’t deserve to go to prison. If they committed any wrong, it was because they were forced to, under duress.”

“Understood.” He reaches for the phone in the center of the table and hits a number. “Ellie, can you have Huff come back in here?”

He stands and moves to one of the computers. One of the screens lights up—it looks like an FBI database because the FBI emblem appears at the top of the page. He makes a call on his cell phone.

“Colt. Wolfe here. I need a favor. And it’s one of
those
favors.” Pause. “Uh, yeah.” Pause. “Langston Hart.” Pause. “I know he is, but can you patch me into his info?” Pause. “You’ll never know we were in there. You know how we operate.” Pause. “Got it. Scout’s honor.” Pause. “Okay, bro, you got it. And thanks.”

Huff walks in and Drexel says, “We have a mobster we need to take down.”

Drexel picks up the phone again and says, “Ellie, can you send in Blake and Nikolai.”

A few minutes later, two other men join us and I’m introduced. 

Drexel begins. “Okay, everyone, this is our new client, Dr. Gabby Martinelli. She’s just hired us to take down Langston Hart who is a part of the East Coast gambling mob.” Then he grins, wiggles his brows, and sticks his tongue between his teeth, like he’s just gotten a new toy.

Gemini puts her hand on my arm and says, “Don’t worry, he acts like this all the time when he takes on a challenging job. I think it’s testosterone.”

“Gabby, we need a location for Hart’s home address,” Drexel says.

I give it to him.

“Nikolai, pull it up on GPS. Blake, see if you can get into the FBI files yet. I just talked to Colt about ten minutes ago. He was going to clear a pathway for you. And we need to make it quick. It may not be open yet.”

“Okay, boss. Did he give you a password?”

“Oh, yeah, that would help, wouldn’t it? It’s scoutshonor one word capital H with an exclamation point between words.”

Blake’s fingers fly across the keyboard and a few seconds later, he’s in. Langston has quite the file. Seems the FBI has been looking at him for some time. Racketeering is their number-one priority but they can’t seem to find solid evidence. There’s also suspected murder, rigged equipment, crooked dealers, and so on. Blake downloads the file and says, “I’ve got it all.”