They paused by Renly’s Ducati, a damn sweet bike that Red openly envied.
“Aren’t you the gentleman?” Renly’s mouth curved with mirth.
“Nah. I just wanted to look at that bike of yours. You know, you can always park in an employee spot. Though I’m glad you didn’t. Let’s me know you know your place.”
“Yeah, I’m smart that way.”
“Listen, there’s one more thing.” He chose his words carefully. He’d moved their conversation to the parking lot because the odds of surveillance on the customers was slim, but he had no way to be sure. For all he knew there was one video-only camera in the fermentation room. On the other hand, the whole place could be wired for sound and video.
And that was the one thing he did want Renly and Stark Security to jump on. “I’m glad you came—God knows I needed the moral support. But I didn’t just call about that. The truth is if we’d had a better system, we might have caught this before Mel was able to kill himself. An alarm when he shut some of the safety protocols off. I don’t know. Something.”
“You want to upgrade your system.“
“That’s the kind of thing your company can do, right?” By which, of course, he meant Stark Security.
“Absolutely.”
They shared a smile. They both knew that while it was in fact among the things that Stark Security did, it occupied a tiny percentage of the workflow. In reality, Stark Security did so much more, but the deeper level things were through referral only. Things the general public didn’t know. Things that only a very few select groups and individuals understood as the depth of the agency’s expertise.
“Can you get me a quote? We have a base level, but I want the gold standard. Where anything that’s changed is logged. And if there’s anything even remotely unusual, I personally get a text.”
What he didn’t say was that while all that was true, he also wanted a sweep of the entire building to locate and get rid of any bugs or recording devices that whoever killed Mel had installed anywhere on the property.
From the way Renly was nodding slowly, Red was certain his brother understood. “If it’s okay by you, I can bring the tech guys in tonight and we can probably have something spec’d out for you in the next day or so.”
“Perfect,” Red said as Renly mounted the bike, then slipped on his helmet.
“Give Abby a kiss for me, and tell her thanks for the virtual hugs,” Red said. Renly had texted to tell her what was going on, and she’d sent Red her condolences, promising to call him soon. He’d expected nothing less, of course. She might be Renly’s fiancée, but she’d been one of Red’s best friends since junior high. Abby knew Mel, too, of course, but they’d only met after Renly and Abby had reconnected in LA. Reconnected in every sense of the word, he added, smiling to himself.
Renly sat up a bit straighter, as if just the mention of Abby took some weight off his shoulders. “The day I’ve had, you can bet she’s going to be getting lots of kisses. I’m holding that woman close.”
Red nodded, trying to ignore the small, hollow place in his stomach. He knew he could never have what Renly and Abby had. He knew he couldn’t be that guy. But oh, how he envied his brother.
“And you’re absolutely certain you don’t want me to stay?”
“Positive,” Red assured him. “The guys will be here soon, then I’ll go home.”
“Promise me you’ll get some rest. This will all be here in the morning.”
Translation, Red needed to be able to think straight to figure out what the fuck was going on. “Agreed. I’ll touch base tomorrow.”
Renly started the bike, then turned onto Santa Monica Boulevard right as Jessn pulled in. Red crossed to where his manager was parking, then pulled him into a hug when he exited the car.
“I can’t believe this,” Jessn said. It’s so fucked up. I never would have thought Mel would off himself.” He drew a breath, then studied Red. “You okay, boss?”
“Been better.”
“Charlie G’s about an hour behind me, but you don’t need to wait. I’ll take care of the place. You just go take care of you.”
He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m gonna do that. Listen, the cameras are back online, and most of the gauges. You’ll need to make hourly rounds, but I think you should actually do them by the half hour. You okay with that?”
“I’m not afraid of ghosts, if that’s what you mean. And Mel wouldn’t hurt me anyway.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” And no one else had reason to. Not if they wanted Red to cooperate in finding the missing package.
He followed Jessn into the tasting room, then gave him the rest of the rundown. “I got it, Red. Seriously. Charlie G and I’ve got your back.”
“I know you do,” he said. “I’m going to get some stuff out of my office, and then head out. I’ll lock up behind me.”
“You got it.”
Red watched, as Jessn left the tasting room, crossed through the garden area, and entered the distillery. Then, like a man sleepwalking, he headed to the bar. He pulled out a glass, took one of the open bottles of whiskey, and poured a shot. He stared at the glass, then reached for it slowly.
“Fuck.” He snatched up the glass, then tossed the contents into the sink. Not like this. Not for this reason.
With the weight of the day heavy on his shoulders, he headed out the front door, locking it behind him. Customer parking was in front, but the employee section was in back, and he walked to the side of the building. It was getting late; the sun had set about half an hour ago, and the world seemed to exist only in shades of gray.
He shivered, then told himself to get over it. He wasn’t a superstitious man. And any ghosts that might be around would be more inclined to help him than to hurt him.
He headed to his car, a Toyota hybrid he’d bought a few years ago. He got out his key fob as he walked, heard the sharp beep as the doors unlocked, and took another step toward the vehicle.
Then the pain hit him. Full-body pain, like fire ants coursing over his body and through his blood, only a million times worse. He lost all control, his muscles no longer obeying, and he shook and shook right down to his core.
Taser.
His mind and body were too fried to form any more coherent thoughts, but he knew what this was. Had experienced it in training, and that had been more than enough. He wanted to turn, to see who’d done this to him, but he had no control. Hell, he could barely think, and soon enough his legs turned to liquid and he collapsed on the ground, unable to do anything except bear the pain from the two points that had shot out from the weapon and made contact.
And then, just as fast as it came, the pain was gone. He sat up breathing hard, his knife already in his hand as he searched for whoever could have been his attacker. But there was no one.
His phone pinged and he reached for it. Only his screen was dark. No call, no text.
Mel’s phone. He reached for it and saw the text on the lock screen:
* * *
You are not safe.
The people you care about aren’t safe.
Not until you tell us what we want to know.