POV: Hunter
The diner coffee was bitter on his tongue. Riley's plan was simple, brutal, and illegal. It was also the only plan that made sense.
"We need proof," she said, her voice low. "A direct link between the hit, your mother-in-law, and Sterling Shield's local command. The police won't dig for it. We will."
"How?" Hunter asked. "Morgan will never talk to me. And if Sterling knows their team failed, they'll be spooked."
"They'll also be arrogant," Riley countered. "They think they're untouchable. Their local front is a 'consulting' office in the city. Julian Sterling runs it. He's the founder's son. A spoiled prince playing soldier. He's the one who handles the 'domestic arrangements.' Like calling hitmen to settle family debts."
She pulled a folded photograph from her pocket and slid it across the table. It showed a man in his thirties with a sharp, entitled smile, getting out of a silver sports car in front of a sleek glass building. Julian Sterling.
"He's the money. Your mother-in-law's debt is with him. We need to connect the dots. We need to get into Morgan's life, see the pressure points."
Hunter felt a fresh wave of revulsion. Using Morgan, using Tessa's mother, as a tool. But she wasn't innocent. She'd sold him out. "What do you need me to do?"
"Go back to your wife," Riley said, her tone clinical. "Be the supportive husband. Tell her you're scared, that you think her mother might be in danger from these men too. That you want to help. You need to see her mother's financial papers, any communication she's had with the lenders. Play the hero. It's the only role she'll let you play right now."
It was manipulative. It was cruel. It was necessary.
"And you?" Hunter asked.
"I'll get into Sterling's systems. See what their interest in you really is. Find the order for the hit." She said it like she was planning a grocery run.
Hunter stood up, throwing a few dollars on the table for the coffee. "How do I contact you?"
"You don't. I'll contact you. Burner phone. I'll text the number later today. Keep it hidden." She stood as well. "One more thing, Hunter. Your wife. You need to decide, right now, what she is. An asset? A liability? Or the enemy? Your emotions will get you killed. Clarity will keep you alive."
She walked out of the diner without a backward glance, leaving him with the chill of her words.
He drove back to the motel, his mind a storm. Asset, liability, or enemy? He loved Tessa. But love was a vulnerability he couldn't afford. Not now.
Tessa was awake, pacing the small room. She rushed to him when he entered. "Where were you? I was so worried!"
"I saw the sheriff. They don't have much." He took her hands. "Tess, I've been thinking. About your mom. If these men are after me because of my past work… they might go after her next. To clean up. She might be in danger."
Tessa's eyes widened in fresh terror. "Oh, God. What do we do?"
"We help her. But to help her, we need to understand what she's dealing with. I need to see everything. The loan papers, any texts or emails from these people. We need to know who we're up against."
He saw the conflict in her eyes: loyalty to her mother warring with the need to fix this, to protect him. Her loyalty to him won. She nodded, a desperate resolve hardening her features. "Okay. Okay, I'll call her. We'll go see her. She's at her condo. She's probably a wreck."
Good, Hunter thought, the guilt a sharp stone in his gut. Exactly where I need her.
An hour later, they pulled up to a modest condo complex. Morgan's unit was on the ground floor. Tessa used her key. The place was dim, curtains drawn. It smelled of stale perfume and fear.
Morgan Henderson was a faded version of her daughter, wrapped in a silk robe, her eyes red and puffy. She looked at Hunter not with guilt, but with a strange, defiant fear.
"Tessa! Thank God!" She hugged her daughter, then looked past her at Hunter. "Hunter. I heard… the news. Are you alright?"
"We're alive," Hunter said, his voice flat. "We need to talk, Morgan. About your debts. About the people you owe."
Her face paled. "I don't know what you mean."
"Mom, please!" Tessa cried. "They tried to kill him! The police found a phone! They think it's connected to your lenders!"
Morgan sank onto her couch, looking defeated. "I didn't know it would come to this. I swear. They just said they needed to scare him. To get him to back off from something."
Hunter went cold. "Back off from what?"
"I don't know! They just said he was asking questions about things that didn't concern him. About his friend's death. They said if he kept digging, things would get bad. They said a little scare, a robbery, would make him stop." She was sobbing now. "They promised no one would get hurt! They just wanted information from his safe!"
The truth was even worse than he'd imagined. It wasn't just a hit. They wanted to rob his safe first. What did they think was in there? Alex's files? His own mission logs?
"Who are 'they,' Morgan?" Hunter demanded, his soldier's voice coming out, making her flinch.
"A man named Julian. Julian Sterling. He's… he's not someone you say no to."
There it was. The direct link. Riley was right.
Just then, Hunter's personal phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from an unknown number the burner Riley promised.
<< Sterilize the scene. Her devices. Now. They will have tracking/wormware. Be quick. >>
Hunter looked at Morgan's laptop on the coffee table, at her smartphone charging on the counter. Sterling could be listening right now. They could know he was here.
He had to move. Now.
Riley orders Hunter to immediately destroy Morgan's electronics, realizing Sterling Shield is likely monitoring her, putting them all in imminent danger.