A subtle tension settled in his shoulders. “Yeah, sure. See you in a few.” He set the phone down. “Alex and Zahra are on their way over. They’ve got something.”
Excitement leapt inside her. It had to be something big if they were telling them in person rather than just over the phone. She went to the living room with him and Alex and Zahra arrived a few minutes later. They sat on the couches while Zahra booted up her laptop and turned it to face them.
“We’ve found the name of the owner listed on the company in Baltimore,” Alex announced.
Briar quickly read what was on screen, focusing on the picture of the middle-aged man. Late forties or early fifties with graying, blond hair and brown eyes. Alan Turner. “Who is he?” she asked Zahra.
“A very wealthy lawyer involved in illegal arms smuggling,” she said grimly. “There could be others, we’re pretty sure he’s not working alone and that he has at least one silent partner.”
“So we’re going to pay him a little visit and find out,” Alex added.
“I’ll come with you, but I want someone here to watch Briar’s back,” Matt said. Briar automatically bristled but before she could argue, he looked over at her. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I’m not leaving you here alone without protection.”
Briar sighed. He just wanted her safe, and she appreciated that. As much as she wanted to go along for the questioning, she couldn’t without risking blowing her cover—being officially declared dead and all. “All right.”
“I’ve already made a call. Jordyn and Ellis are on their way over,” Alex said.
“Who’s Ellis?” she asked.
“Blake Ellis. Former Scout Sniper, and Jordyn’s fiancé. I figured you wouldn’t be comfortable having them inside so I’ve told them to park out front and watch the house. They should be pulling up any minute. If anything happens while we’re gone, they’re both solid operators you can count on.”
Briar nodded. “Okay.” She got up and followed the others to the door, careful to stay out of sight in case anyone was watching from outside. Another black SUV had pulled up behind Alex’s vehicle.
“That’s them,” he said.
Matt handed her the burner phone they’d been using then caught her chin in his hand. His green eyes were filled with understanding. He knew she hated being left behind. “I’ll be back soon and I’ll call you if there’s any news. This’ll all be over soon.” He lowered his head to kiss her and she didn’t stiffen even though she knew Alex could clearly see them from the front walkway.
“See you later,” she murmured, giving Matt a smile. If she’d needed more proof that she was insanely attached to him, the ache in her chest as she watched him walk away did the job.
She waited until he’d shut the door behind him before stepping over to lock it and arm the security system to stay mode. Please let this be the break we need.
****
As they pulled up to the gate of the swanky upscale townhome complex in one of Baltimore’s most expensive neighborhoods, Matt surveyed the brick, three-story homes. All of them were done up with strands of holiday lights, wreaths and greenery on the doors and front porches. It looked like something from a Christmas card.
Rycroft gave the guard at the gatehouse his ID and waited for the electronic gate to swing open. He drove up to the second house from the end and parked out front. Matt followed him and Zahra up the walkway, his pistol in the back of his waistband. While he didn’t expect to need it, he wasn’t taking any chances either.
As it was a Friday morning most people were off to work but Alan Turner answered the front door moments after Rycroft’s knock. A slight frown creased his forehead as he studied them, a wary expression on his face. “Can I help you?”
Rycroft held out his ID and introduced himself. “We have a few questions we’d like to ask.”
Turner stared at him for a moment, then darted a glance around, as though embarrassed that his neighbors might be seeing this. “Sure, come on in.” He stepped back and let them inside a foyer decked out in a Christmas display worthy of a magazine spread.
The scent of cinnamon and baking cookies hung heavy in the air and soft carols floated toward them. Down the hall where Matt could see through another entryway into the kitchen, a middle-aged brunette poked her head out.
Seeing them, she cast an uncertain look at her husband and called out, “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Turner told her. “I’m just going to talk to them in my study.”