Protecting His Witness (Red Stone Security Series) by Katie Reus Page A

Just…whatever you’re planning, let us handle it.”
    Vincent kept his expression purposefully blank. “I’m not planning anything other than keeping Jordan safe. I don’t know who did this and I’m not going to take the law into my own hands.” Much. He wasn’t going to sit idly by and let this threat come to them. Hell no, he had resources and wasn’t afraid to use them.
    Even though he nodded, Detective Hough still looked skeptical. Once the man was gone, Vincent found Jordan in her bedroom making her bed.
    “I’m going to hire someone to come in and clean and do laundry once we’re gone because I’m not leaving Barbara’s place like this, but I think I’ve got everything packed up.” She nodded to the two red suitcases and matching toiletry case at the foot of the bed.
    A ghost of a smile touched his lips. She was worried about cleaning when someone had just decimated her car. “Good. Give me a few minutes and we’ll clear out of here.”
     
    * * * * *
     
    Stupid fucking blasting caps! Unsure exactly what had gone wrong with the bomb, in the end, it didn’t really matter. The fact was, Jordan’s car had exploded way too early and without any provocation and that stupid bitch hadn’t been in it. In fact, no one had been injured if the layout of the crime scene was any indication.
    Cops, firefighters and other men and women in suits who could be with any number of government agencies all milled around the bomb site, but the ambulances hadn’t left and no one was being treated. And the medical examiners had already come and gone—without any corpses.
    Killing extra civilians would have been somewhat appeasing since Jordan hadn’t been injured, but even that hadn’t happened. Working without a partner was too hard. Especially when said partner had been the bomb and fire expert. Fire was so beautiful and erotic to watch, but getting it right was just too damn difficult. Maybe it was time to recruit another partner.
    It would sure beat working alone.
    Blending in with the crowd of tourists and locals across the street was easy enough, but it was never smart to stay for too long. The cops would be watching for anything out of the ordinary and might even take pictures of the onlookers.
    And I’m not getting caught by those pigs.
    Besides, tracking Jordan with her cloned phone was easy enough, so if she left the condo—and it was likely she and half the residents would be clearing out by the end of the day—she still couldn’t hide.
    Nope. No matter where Jordan went, tracking her was child’s play. Soon enough, she was going to find out what real suffering was. The car bomb might have detonated early, but this wasn’t even close to over.

 
    Chapter 9
     
    “Your family owns this?” Jordan asked quietly as the iron gate shut behind the police officer who had driven them to his family’s home.
    Vincent waved at the guy as he left in his cruiser. “Yeah. It was in my dad’s family forever and when he died, he left it to all of us in his will. Me, my sisters and my mom. Probably so no one could ever sell it.” Something his dad had likely counted on.
    Family had been everything to his father, especially after his wealthy parents basically shunned him for marrying a poor, black Jamaican, second-generation American. His mom had apparently had three strikes against her before she’d ever met her would-be in-laws. His father’s parents had ancestors that literally went back to the Mayflower. Elitist fuckers. At least the home they’d given to their son now belonged to those it should.
    “This is a seriously nice location and a beautiful home.” She sounded awed as she looked around and he loved that she appreciated the area.
    The foliage was thick and lush, everything an island home should be. Palm trees, bushes, bright flowers, and two giant Royal Poinciana trees surrounded their home. The whole family had pitched in to renovate the historic Caribbean style cottage. It had real wood plank