Page 88 of Ruthless Enforcer

“A mechanics shop. We have dozens all over the US.” I shrug. “Custom cars up front, workspace and storage in the back.”

“Storage for what?”

I look at her.

She sighs. “Of course. Diversified revenue streams.”

As impossible as it is, I smile a little. “You’re getting me hot, Duchess.”

“Who’s Mateo?” she asks without batting an eye.

The little humor drains from me. I grab my shirt and pull it on. “My cousin. He was caught in the blast. He’s in surgery, and the evidence points to your uncle."

Her face goes pale. "Uncle James didn't⁠—"

"I know." I reach out and cup her cheek with my free hand. "But Turner made it look like he did, and that’s all that counts. If my family retaliates, your uncle will think we struck first. Then he'll hit back, and we'll be in a war neither of us can stop."

She nods slowly, her green eyes locked on mine. "What do you need?"

Hendricks picks up before I can answer her. "You saw the news," he says without preamble.

"Alessandro called. I need everything you can find on that vehicle registration, the explosives, and anyone who had access to the Whitlock construction site six months ago."

"Already on it.” There’s the sound of typing in the background. “The registration is buried, but I'm tracing it now. The explosives are going to be harder. Whitlock uses multiple suppliers, and the theft was never officially reported."

"Why not?"

"It was probably an inside job. Or Whitlock didn't want the publicity. There are any number of reasons."

I close my eyes. Of course there were.

"My guess is Turner,” Hendricks says. “He had access to Whitlock operations before you grabbed him. He could have arranged the theft, sat on the explosives, and waited for the right moment to use them."

"Can you prove it?"

"Give me four hours."

"You have three." I end the call and immediately dial another number.

Clara watches me, her expression unreadable. "Who are you calling now?"

"Mandy."

She picks up on the first ring. "I heard. Is Mateo⁠—"

"Alive. Barely." I keep my voice even, controlled, even though rage is clawing at my chest. "I need you to do something for me."

"Name it."

“Get ready,” I tell her. “We’re going hunting.”

“Oh boy,” she replies enthusiastically. “Are you going to let me kill Turner this time?”

“Only if you get to him first.” I hang up and turn to Clara.

She’s watching me, her arms still wrapped around herself. "What now?"

"Now I prove Turner set this up.” I button up my shirt. “And I do it before my family decides to retaliate."