Guns: The Spencer Book
Page 42

“Doesn’t Carson have a job at the bank his father runs?”
“Yeah, but he’s got a shitload of vacation time. That nerd never takes a day off. And he really does like Ronnie, as a friend, ya know?”
I turn left on Mountain and head to Ford’s house. He’s silent again. My plans for Ronnie can only drag him from his funk for so long. Maybe I’m not a parent, so I don’t get the scope of love Ford has for that little girl. But it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to understand that he’s all sorts of torn up about the thought of losing her.
When I get to his house, I pull up in front, fully planning on dropping him off and getting my ass back to work. But Ford looks over to me and sighs. “You need to come inside and hear this, Spence.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s game time.”
I throw the truck in first and shut it down as he exits, then get out and follow him up the front walk.
Ronin opens the front door before we get there, his face a mess of worry and stress. “Fuck,” he says as he logs Ford’s somber expression and the fact that I’m here with him. Because when we all get together like this over news, it only means one thing.
Bad shit is about to happen.
I follow Ford into the living room. Ashleigh is sitting on the couch, her feet all tucked up underneath her, leaning forward as Ford approaches and bends to kiss her cheek. He takes a seat and pulls her into a tight embrace.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” she whispers. “Tell me, Ford.”
“It’s not so bad,” Ford lies.
I look over at Ronin and he’s got a puzzled look on his face. Ronin not only lies like a champ, he’s a human lie detector as well. Somehow, some way, that guy learned to read body language. I’m not sure if it came from being a little kid in a house with a very dangerous man—his real father went to prison for murdering his mother in front of him and his sister—or if it comes from modeling with girls in some very sensitive situations. But Ronin can smell bullshit even when it reeks of roses.
And Ford is full of shit.
“The request came from a law office in town, but when I hacked into their system, the original request came from a law office in San Diego.”
Ashleigh goes white. “My father? Or Tony’s family?” she asks. But we can all see she’s not even sure she wants the answer to that question.
Ford shrugs. “I can’t be sure. When I hacked into the database at the law office in SD, I got anonymous.” He pulls his wife in for another hug. “But listen, Kitten. Whoever it is, it’s not gonna to work. You have sole legal custody of Katelynn. Tony’s name is not even on the birth certificate. We’re married, end of story. People can file all kinds of bullshit legal actions, it doesn’t make them right and it won’t help them win.”
Ford waits for an answer, but all Ashleigh is capable of is a nod and a head tuck into his neck.
Poor Ashleigh. Talk about a girl who needs a break. She’s had enough drama for a lifetime. And while all of us here are no amateurs when it comes to drama, Ashleigh’s is so much more personal than anything we’ve been up to.
Plus, she’s our weakest link. Yeah, she made it out of her mess with Ford’s help. But she’s recovering from a major depression, the death of her baby’s father, and an attempted suicide.
Some muffled cries come from the hallway where the nursery must be, and Ashleigh springs into action. Rook eyeballs us, then follows her.
“That it?” Ronin asks, once Rook is out of hearing range.
“No,” Ford says. “Something is very wrong,” he says softly, so the girls won’t hear. “Something is very, very wrong.”
I take a seat in a chair, then lean forward and hold my head in my hands. “This is just one more thing, you guys. We’re being set up right now. We’re walking into a trap, I can f**king feel it.”
“What trap?” Ronin asks. “I mean, I feel something’s off too, but I can’t put any of it together in a way that makes sense.”
“It’s Drake,” I say. “I’m telling you, Ford. It’s Drake. We need that bot back. Did you go scope that shit out last night, Ronin?”
“Yeah, locked up tight, dude. We’re gonna have to get it out the same way we got it in. Drive it through the bay.”
“We can’t be seen over there again,” Ford says. “We gave ourselves away the other night.”
“What about Ashleigh?” I ask.
“Go to f**king hell, Spencer,” Ford replies.
“Look.” I take my case to Ronin. He’s the final word as far as plans go. He can override Ford. “I get that she’s sad right now, but she’s the only option. She’s the only one with no connections. We need someone to go over there and get that f**king bot out.”
Ford scrubs his hands down his face. That’s a losing gesture and I know I’ve won.
“She’s on the Team,” Ronin says. “She knows she’s on the Team. She agreed to be on the Team. She’s gotta do her job, Ford. Or we’re gonna be blindsided. Hell, maybe someone can take your kid away. Maybe they’re just biding their time until the shit hits the fan. Maybe—”
“Maybe,” Ford interjects, “they started all this motorcycle bullshit, all this adoption bullshit, so they can distract us from the real issue.”
“Which is?” Ronin asks.
“Rook,” Ford replies. “Rook is the key here, OK? She’s testifying next week. I think all of this has to do with Rook.”