***

TYLER wrenched open the estate’s heavy front door. Xander stood wearing something clearly GQ and designer, looking perfectly unconcerned and unruffled. Behind him, a big motherfucker straight out of a Rambo-esque movie stood as still as a statue, black hair military cut, blue eyes scanning his surroundings, on the lookout for any sign of trouble.

Xander looked Tyler over with a critical eye. “Nice. You’re going to a major sting wearing a T-shirt that says ‘Cops have bigger guns.’”

“I’m probably going to end the day killing someone if I’m not killed myself. So I don’t really give a shit if I meet with your fashion approval.” Tyler stepped back.

Xander and the stranger entered the house, the former looking around for Del, the latter just looking for threats.

“Del okay?” Xander asked, staring down the hall.

“Almost ready. She’s nervous.”

With a nod, Xander strolled into the living room. “Understandable. How’s she going to hold up?”

“She’ll come through. Del is tough.” Tyler would bank on that.

“Good.” Xander turned to the big guy behind him. “This is Decker McConnell. I told Del about him on the phone. I’d give you a full list of his credentials, but then I’d have to kill you.”

Tyler stared at the soldier. He looked like he’d seen his fair share of action. “You packing?”

“Always.”

“Seen combat or been in a firefight?”

“Yep, on four continents.” McConnell had a voice that sounded more like a deep rattle of gravel. Under that neck-to-toe black and Kevlar, he likely had more than a few nasty scars.

“Hand-to-hand?”

“Black belt in three martial arts, former military boxing and wrestling champion.”

Impressive. “Nervous? You seem jumpy.”

McConnell cut cold eyes over to him. “Anxious to stop the fucking pillow talk and get on with the action.”

Tyler heard that. He looked back at Xander. “Yeah, he works.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” McConnell said like he didn’t give a shit. “You got a plan?”

“I’m going to go in with Del. We need to have some sort of recorder. Plan A is that Eric gives us the flash drive and we go away. But I don’t think that’s going to happen. I believe Eric is dirty as hell, and I’m expecting company. I want to catch anything he might say on audio or video and see if we can use it to build a case against Carlson. If you can sneak into the house and watch our backs, our chances of survival go up immensely.”

“I figured you’d say something like that,” Xander drawled. “Hi, Del.”

Tyler turned to see her coming down the hall. She wore jeans and her gray tank top, a pair of sneakers, almost no makeup. She still managed to look stunning. He turned back to the other men. Xander wore a comforting smile, one Tyler hadn’t believed the bastard had in him. McConnell looked at her with a seemingly flat stare, but Tyler sensed the guy’s interest. It didn’t set well with him.

It was probably high school of him, but he brought Del close and threw his arm around her waist. “You ready?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

Damn, she looked nervous. Tyler swore he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe.

“I’ve got something that might help you, Del.” Xander turned and looked expectantly at McConnell, who shrugged a black backpack off his meaty shoulders and foraged inside until he withdrew a gorgeous buttery leather Coach bag.

“Wow.” Del’s eyes widened. “I saw that bag in a catalog. It was ridiculously expensive. You can’t keep giving me gifts.”

Annoyance curled through Tyler’s gut. “She’s taken, shithead.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Such a caveman.” He faced Del and explained, “It’s special. I bought it and had it outfitted with the tiniest surveillance camera the technology division of S.I. Industries, my corporation, makes. It’s installed in one of the grommets. See?”

When he pointed to one of the purse’s studs, Del leaned down and stared. Tyler did the same.

“I don’t see anything.” Del sounded confused.

“Me, either.”

“That’s the point.” Xander beamed like a kid who’d put one over on his teacher. “It’s got a tiny wireless transmitter sewn into the lining. It’s almost a real-time feed of whatever you’re filming to my laptop. If Eric or anyone else says anything incriminating, it’s going to be captured on film instantly.”

Del reached out and took the satchel-style bag in her grasp. “Which way do I need to point it?”

“As long as you keep this side pointed away from your body, you’re good.” Xander pointed to the purse’s side with the Coach insignia mounted.

Tyler didn’t like any of this, but as much as he hated to admit it, Xander had a good idea.

“Anything else?” the billionaire asked.

Del looked Tyler’s way, and he would have given anything to take that look of fear from her face. Instead, she just shook her head.

“You take the Audi in the garage,” Xander instructed. “I’ll ride with McConnell in the black SUV we brought.”

Another good call. “That way if Eric is watching, he doesn’t see uninvited people in the car.”

“Exactly. Let’s go.”

They all hopped in their respective cars, and Tyler tried to ignore the silence, so thick with tension. Instead, he held her hand and ran the plan through his head over and over, looking for any way in which this day didn’t end without him killing Eric or Eric killing him. So far, he hadn’t been able to find one.

A few minutes before ten, they entered Eric’s kitschy little neighborhood. Del grew visibly more nervous, and Tyler squeezed her hand. “Angel, you’re going to have to calm down. Eric will take one look at you and know that something is up.”

She blew out a deep breath and shook her head. “I know.”

Tyler parked the car just past Eric’s house, where no one could watch them through the windows. “All you have to do is keep your wits about you and that purse pointed toward Eric. Ask him a few leading questions. I’ll do the rest.”

“What if he’s not alone?”

Yeah, Tyler suspected they could be walking into a den of killers, bent on shooting them right between the eyes in the first thirty seconds. “I think I’ve got an idea. You let me worry about that, okay?”

Del nodded. “I trust you.”

Finally, it was ten o’clock on the nose. Tyler opened the car door and emerged into the sunny Southern California morning. On the passenger’s side, Del did the same. They crossed the street, and Del rang the doorbell.

Chapter Eighteen

ERIC cracked the door a few seconds later, and Tyler, standing in the shadowed corner of the porch, watched, his gut tightening. His former friend looked Del up and down, but there was something in his eyes. Eric was tense. Tyler frowned. If he only wanted to return Del’s flash drive, why would he be nervous?

Unless, as he and Del had feared, Eric wasn’t alone.

Tyler’s blood began to run cold. He reached for the Glock tucked into his waistband and stepped forward. Eric sent him a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, then peeled his right hand away from the doorframe and brushed his fingers across his ear.

The gesture had been one they’d worked out long ago, when they’d first become partners. It was their silent signal for “get backup!”

“Come in, Del.” Eric grabbed her arm and began to draw her inside.

No fucking way was the asshole who’d cheated on her and nearly raped her going to take her inside the house alone with danger afoot. Tyler was ready to throw down to keep Del outside, where she might have a chance of surviving. Once she went in and that door shut behind her, Tyler didn’t know how much he’d be able to help her.

Eric sent him a pleading stare, his face so tense, body rigid.

Del turned back to him, and Tyler felt her hand on his chest. The gesture silently asked him to stay away, begged him to keep silent so he didn’t alert whoever waited in the house to his presence.

Tyler’s mind raced. If he went in with her, they’d train guns on him and strip him of his weapons. He had to get his emotions under control. As much as he hated it, if he stayed outside, he had a better chance of helping Del. He and McConnell could take the stealth approach and blindside these motherfuckers.

“If anything happens to her, you’re a dead man,” Tyler murmured.

Eric nodded just enough for Tyler to see the acknowledgment.

“Hi, Eric,” Del said almost too brightly. “You have my flash drive?”

“Yeah, come in.” Eric opened the door for Del to enter, then shut it in his face.

Tyler waited to hear him engage the dead bolt. Eric never did.

Hmm. The paranoid bastard had never failed to lock doors and windows. Ever.

With his heart pounding furiously, Tyler slinked along the shadows of the porch and overhang, until he reached a row of hedges that separated Eric’s driveway from the neighbor’s. He crawled through them, then emerged to sprint over to the black SUV parked across and down the street. As he approached, Xander lowered the window.

“Let’s go.” Tyler looked at McConnell, not bothering with pleasantries. “Eric took her in the house. He’s got company. The front door is unlocked, but knowing Eric, his ‘company’ is hanging out in that part of the house. There’s a back door and a bedroom window we may be able to crawl through. Since he tipped me off, I’m hoping he was smart enough to unlock them. We’ll have to sneak our way in and eliminate whoever’s there.”

“Stealth and killing, my favorite kind of mission.” McConnell let himself out of the SUV, now carrying an M4 carbine assault rifle. Tyler could almost bet the big guy was loaded to the gills with other weaponry. But Tyler was prepared, too—a couple of Glocks, a wicked knife, a grenade, if necessary. If Carlson had the balls to show up to this meeting, it could only mean that he wanted Del dead. If that was the case, no way was the fucker getting out of this alive.

Together, he and McConnell made their way across the street, avoiding the view from Eric’s windows, just in case. They crawled along the far side of the house, then leapt the cinder-block fence. Almost soundlessly, they landed in the side yard, where there was nothing except an air-conditioning unit already chugging away against the day’s promised heat.

Without a sound, Tyler pointed toward the back of the house. They ducked under the windows to avoid being seen by anyone who might happen to be in the bathroom or back bedroom. Plastered against the back wall, he directed McConnell to the French doors on their left. Then he pointed to himself and the bedroom window back to the right.

With a terse nod, McConnell began to prowl away. Tyler grabbed his arm. “No matter what, you save her.”

“I will. But get your dick out of your pants or this rescue will be a fucktastic disaster,” he growled, pulled free, and edged toward the patio doors.

Cursing under his breath, Tyler crept toward the window and began easing it open. Eric had definitely prepared in advance for company and unlocked it. Did that automatically mean Eric was on his side? Or just that he was anticipating another way to trap his ex-partner. After all, if someone was as dirty as Eric, what was a little murder among enemies?

A quick glance down the little flagstone patio proved that McConnell had already made his way inside without incident. Tyler crawled inside the sloppy but unoccupied bedroom. The door was ajar, but he didn’t see anyone lying in wait for him in the hallway, either. What the fuck was Eric up to?

Prowling through the house, Tyler focused on disposing of any bad guys and watching for treachery. He had to hope they weren’t too late to save Del.

***

ERIC led her inside, through the foyer, then into the living room. Immediately, she saw a gangbanger with a big gun—and her blood turned to ice. Eric had set her up to come here and discouraged Tyler from entering with her. To remove her protection or give Tyler time to mount a stealth attack? Del didn’t know. That terrified her. So did trusting her ex-husband.

The thug promptly patted her down, lingering a little too long over her breasts. He wasn’t big, but the gang tattoos and AK-47 made her take him really seriously. She saw two more similar goons at the back of the living room, one leaning against the wall separating the living room from the kitchen. The other lingered at the entrance to the hallway. She recognized him from photos as Double T, the leader of the 18th Street gang.

And on the sofa, just as comfortable as if he was at home, sat Carlson in a charcoal gray suit with a pristine white shirt. His salt-and-pepper hair looked perfect. He wore a cat-who-ate-the-canary smile. Fresh terror gripped her belly.

She whipped a furious glare up at Eric.

He didn’t flinch, and she wondered if trusting him would turn out to be her fatal mistake. For a second, she closed her eyes and said a prayer for Tyler. She was at peace with the fact that, if she wasn’t here to be a mother to Seth, he would see to their son.