“Do a sweep,” Ian ordered, sending Sean and Liam into immediate motion.
Chris Roberts moved from the crowd, a glass of champagne in his hand. The worried look on his face didn’t match his usual laid-back style. “What’s going on?”
“I need to find Serena, and I need you and Bridget to stay away from Brian Anderson.” Jake didn’t need to worry about the man using Serena’s friends as hostages.
The glass dropped from Chris’s hands, and he went a stark white. Without a word, he turned and started for the back of the building.
Adam took off after him.
Something very bad was going on. “Clear the room,” Jake ordered as he jogged past Ian.
Adam tackled Chris before he made the door.
“Stop,” Chris protested. “You have to let me in there. She went with him to go get Lara. God, I watched her do it not three minutes ago. I let her go.”
Jake understood the man’s desperation, but they had to play this smart. “You stay here. Get to Ian. Tell him what’s happening and that I need men to move around to the back of the building. I need every exit blocked, and I need the cops to put an APB out on Brian Anderson and possibly Doyle Brooks. Do you understand? As a precaution, call an ambulance and more cops. We have a potential hostage situation. I need this done as quickly as possible, and I need you to stay calm. Get to Ian. He’s the big guy who’s probably scaring the crap out of everyone right now. Tell him Jake sent you. He’ll listen.”
Chris nodded and allowed Adam to help him up.
“Three minutes is a long time,” Adam said, his jaw clenched.
“And our girl is smart. If this really is about money, they might not kill her here. They need it to look good, and that means getting away.” Jake prayed he was right. “Okay. You take my six.”
“On it.” Adam moved behind him. When they hit the back room, Adam would guard his back.
As quietly as he could, he opened the door and moved through in a firing stance.
“Dumb bitch, do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?”
A masculine voice chuckled. The back room was littered with shelves and stacks of boxes. He couldn’t see who was talking, but he was almost certain he recognized the voice. Brian Anderson. He pointed to the southwest, where the voice had come from. Moving on silent feet, he stalked through the warehouse-like room toward the voice.
“Fuck you, Anderson. You’re not going to get away with it. Someone will figure it out.”
That wasn’t Serena. Bridget. Fuck. How was Bridget involved? She sounded hurt, her voice resonating with pain.
“I’m smarter than you, smarter than my dumbass wife who had to go and fuck up my business. I used to be respected. Now we’re a laughingstock. No longer. I’ll get Lara’s money and Doyle will take Serena’s. Good-bye, Bridget.”
Jake found the right row of boxes. He sent Adam to the other side with a quick nod of his head. They’d worked together most of their adult lives. Jake didn’t even have to look to know Adam was doing what he needed to do. With Adam backing him up, Jake could simply move into place.
Brian Anderson stood over Bridget, a knife in his hand. The knife was a medium-sized kitchen knife, and it looked like he’d already used it on her. He prayed Chris had called that ambulance because they were going to need it. But even as he moved into place, one question pounded through his gut.
Where was Serena? He didn’t see her. Where the hell was she?
If she was dead, he would tear through them all. Brian, Doyle, that motherfucker who had been planning to use her. He wouldn’t stop until they were all buried in the ground.
“Put the knife down.” He didn’t really want Brian Anderson to put the knife down. He wanted to shoot him, but he needed to know where Serena was first.
Anderson gasped and started to turn to run, but Adam had cut him off.
“Jake?” Bridget’s voice was a tortured moan. “You have to save her. I think he took her outside. I couldn’t see. I…please help her.”
Jake never took his eyes off Anderson, who was visibly shaking. At least Bridget thought Serena was alive. “The cops are on their way, Bridget. So is an ambulance. You just hold on. You’re going to be able to testify against this asshole.”
A sad little laugh came out of her mouth. “That would be good research, right?”
“I can’t go to jail.” The knife in Anderson’s hands shook as he looked from Adam to Jake and back again. “I didn’t do it. It was Doyle.”
“We just caught you red-handed, dumbass,” Adam explained. “Now tell us where Serena is and you might get off with attempted murder.”