Page 111 of Blake

“Okay.” He nodded. “I’ll let Emmett know.”

“Thanks. And Savage?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep your eyes open.”

The call ended, and Blake stared at his phone.

Scott Mitchell had been silenced. He knew it in his gut. And whoever had ordered it was still out there.

“Blake?”

He turned to see Devon standing in the kitchen doorway. She was wearing the new jeans and crewneck Gwen had purchased after the fire. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she looked considerably more rested than the night before.

She was smiling, but then she saw his expression.

“What’s wrong?” Her smile fell. “Did something happen?”

“Lincoln called. They found Scott Mitchell.”

Devon stiffened. “Dead?”

“Yeah.” Blake nodded. “They found his body this morning.”

Devon closed her eyes. He crossed the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him for a moment before pulling back.

“Do they know who did it?”

“Not yet. Lincoln’s coming here later this afternoon. He’s bringing Dr. Scarlett O’Neill with him, and they hope to have more information by then.”

“Scarlett?” She frowned. “Janie’s friend?”

“That’s the one.”

“But doesn’t she study crime scenes and dead bodies and stuff?”

“It’s part of what she does, yeah.” Blake nodded. “Officially, she’s a world-renowned forensics consultant. One of the best, according to Lincoln. But after what happened with Janie, she and Scarlett became friends, and . . .” He sighed. “Anyway, she’s offered to help.”

“Good.” Devon smiled. “That’s good. We need all the help we can get. In the meantime . . .” She glanced toward the coffee machine. “Is there any left? I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

A few hours later, the farmhouse had become an unofficial Echo Team command post.

Emmett arrived shortly before lunch, bringing groceries and a laptop loaded with updated information from the office. Jethro Barclay—who’d agreed to help once he heard what happened at Blake’s apartment building—was covering the perimeter’s security.

Draven was outside talking with him, and Gwen had come inside to fix herself another cup of coffee. At the kitchen table, Devon studied the information they’d gathered on Meridian while Blake sat beside her.

Emmett stood near the counter, reviewing the information on his phone.

“South Star’s management claims Charlie Gallagher was fired from his security gig there three weeks ago,” he announced.

Blake looked up. “Convenient.”

“Very.” Emmett sent him a look. “But Claire was helping us look through some related documents, and found a payment routed through a consulting company two days before the fire.”

Devon leaned forward. “How much?”

“Twenty-five thousand.”