Page 28 of Tango

“Muffy’s?” Ria shook her head in disbelief. “But how?”

Brandon ducked his head as he listened to his phone, then growled, “The hysterics aren’t helping here. I don’t know what you’re saying. What about her bodyguard? He drove her there.”

…

“Well, why didn’t he protect her? What about the Tifton security guard?” Brandon stood and leaned his weight onto his knuckles, focusing on the surface of the table.

…

“On it? ... Went after them? Wait now, some guy in a uniform is running after them on his feet … And a dog? … take a damned breath. Are you saying that the dog was running? Now how does that make any sense? Is that sane?”

He looked up again, and this time his gaze went straight to Ria as he listened.

“This feels like it should be a joke about a dog chasing the car. Does the dog think he can stop the limo? Outrun it?” Brandon asked the person on the phone. “What is happening here? Did everyone lose their goddamned minds? Is no one there with a car that can follow to see where they’re headed?”

…

“When?” Ria whispered to Brandon.

“How long ago?” Brandon asked.

…

“What possessed you to wait so goddamned long? Have you called the police?”

…

“What do you mean you don’t know? Why are you calling me? What can I do about any of this?” Brandon shouted. “Call the damned police.”

The man to his right leaned in and whispered, “They need the FBI.”

“The FBI,” Brandon hollered into the phone. “Call the FBI.”

Piper stood unblinking, gripping the podium. Well, shit!

Chapter Nine

Ethan

Ethan wrestled the behemoth vehicle down the road.

Even if he wanted to turn around and head back to the estate, there was no way he was going to do that with the length of this tin can and the width of the road.

The ditches were one problem; what he thought was probably a bent control arm meant his tires were fighting him for direction of travel.

Two-fisting the steering wheel, Ethan attempted to power forward, going as fast as

he thought was survivable.

He didn’t know if backup was planted down the road to stop him from getting to safety. He didn’t know the plan, the players, or how determined they were to get the job done.

They could have come with a dart but be willing to leave with bullet holes.

And that would make this day that much shittier.

Ethan glanced over at Clem.

His head pressed up against the far door. He was twisted at the hips, his feet shoved out of the driver’s-side footwell, sharing the space with Tango.