Got some free time and managed to finish editing this chapter. So, here you all go.

Also, for those of you read my rant at the end of the last chapter . . .

The other vet (or yahoo depending on what you prefer) finally called us back (like literally ten minutes ago). We told him Koda was doing fine, that our usual vet properly diagnosed him, and that we were unhappy because if we'd listened to him then we wouldn't have had a wonderful dog anymore. And he started back tracking on everything he said. Told us that the x-rays showed how he was right (he didn't take x-rays. We have the after visit summary that says so) and he told us our usual vet was wrong.

I. I just. I can't. How is our usual vet the one wrong when our dog is practically fine now?

So the good news is that Koda's nearly back to normal now. Still a slight a stumble every now and again, but he's still taking his medication and he has a follow up appointment tomorrow (Not with the yahoo).

Anyway, enjoy the chapter.

Crystal's POV

As soon as Jackson and Noah left to tend to their "other matters" Julie, Damien, and I immediately came to the unanimous conclusion to not follow Jackson's instructions.

Instead, we opted to follow the little psycho killer's wife around.

And so, Julie and I were currently staked out at the restaurant across the street from the one she was currently dining at for lunch.

Thus far, this stalking business had been very boring. She'd gone to breakfast at the hotel with Branson, then done some lounging on the beach. After that, it had been a morning of shopping and getting her nails done before stopping in at this restaurant for lunch. She'd been reading a magazine and checking her phone throughout her lunch, but since we couldn't see exactly what she was doing on her phone, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"I don't get it," Julie said as she eyed her sitting at her table outside, while we were sitting inside the other restaurant staring at her from a window seat. "She breaks into your room while you're sleeping, leaves you a note that's really more of a thinly veiled threat basically saying that she get to you whenever she wants, and then she goes shopping."

"She's married to Branson," I reminded her. "And I think the threat was more of, I know where you are too."

Julie shrugged. "Either way. It's not ideal."

"Nothing about any of this is ideal," I muttered as I sipped at the coffee I'd ordered.

I could feel Julie trying to burn a hole in the side of my head. I let out a sigh. "What?" I asked her.

"We can get out of here," She said.

I gave her a flat look.

"I mean it," She said. "To hell with him telling your father anything. If we give the SD card to Damien, the FBI will take down your father and there will be no more threats from Storm."

I tapped my fingers on the table. "I know," I told her. "I've thought about it. My father will be out to get me even after the FBI's put him in jail, so it really would be no different even if Jackson told him now."

"Then what's stopping you?"

I looked back over at "Mrs. Branson." I nodded my head in her direction. "Branson," I replied.

"He's on the SD card too right?" Julie asked me. "So if you hand it over to the FBI like you're going to anyway, they'd take him down too."

"Yeah," I muttered. "But it'd be too late by then."

She frowned at me in confusion, not following along.

I sighed again. "The moment Branson hears that the FBI are investigating my father, the moment he learns that they're arresting him, he'll disappear. And a guy like Branson, he'll be impossible for the FBI to find. Who knows how many people he'll hurt before he's finally caught." I looked down at the cup of coffee in front of me. "If he's ever caught."

"That's not your problem."

"Isn't it?" I asked her as I locked eyes with her. "The moment he finds out I'm the one who turned over all the information, he's going to be hunting me down." I looked away. "My father, I think I could handle. Him," I shook my head. "no way."

She shrugged. "I get what you're saying, but this doesn't exactly seem like the best way to go about this."

"Maybe not," I replied. "But honestly, I think if anyone could take down Branson, it would Jackson Storm." I looked back at her. "Do not tell him I said that."

She smiled. "I won't. And I hear you." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window. "I think you're right. But I also think there's more going on here that Mr. Know-it-all conman doesn't want us to know about."

I nodded in agreement. "I get that feeling too."

"Yeah." She made a face and then turned back to me. "Look Crystal, I get why you're deciding to stick with Storm right now, but I'm just worried that when this all goes to shit-which I'm sure it will-that he's going to get you caught in the crossfire and I don't want him taking you down with him."

I smiled at her. "You're a really good friend," I told her. "You know that?"

"Damn right I am," She replied with a smile. "And in case you change your mind about sticking with Storm, I have a getaway plan."

I raised my eyebrows at her. "You have a getaway plan?"

"Yep."

"Care to share?"

She winked at me. "Take me up on my offer and I'll share."

"Alright," Damien said as he came walking over to our table after he'd walked outside to make a few calls. He slid into the seat next to Julie. "The pictures we got of her, are useless. I had a coworker run them through the FBI facial recognition program, no hits. She either doesn't have a record because she's clean, or she's been very good at keeping her extracurricular activities on the down-low."

I shrugged. "Or she's got some very powerful friends."

Damien nodded. "That too. Whatever the case, we've got nothing. No name, no age, no history, nothing. I've been trying to get a hold of my partner, see if he can get any information for me but so far he's been ducking my calls."

Julie blew out a breath of frustration. "Well, that sucks."

Damien nodded. "For now, at least with her, we're in the dark. We don't know for sure if she is dangerous and if she is, we don't know what kind."

Julie frowned. "What kind?" She questioned.

"There are different kinds of dangerous," I told her. "If she's in a place of power, she'll just send people to do her work but won't get her hands dirty. If she's knowledgeable then she'll just use that knowledge against us." I shrugged and leaned back in my seat. "It just depends."

Julie was back to looking out the window. "Well, I don't know how dangerous little miss sunshine is, considering she looks upset that she just broke a nail."

I looked out the window to see that she was indeed staring down at her nails on one hand with a frown on her face.

"Yeah," Julie said. "on a scale of danger I'm going with rat."

"Rat?" Damien questioned her with a look of utter confusion.

"Yeah," She replied. "Small, kickable, but can still spread diseases and ugly as all hell."

Damien rubbed at his forehead as if she were giving him a headache.

"Really though," Julie continued. "am I the only one upset with this chick's fashion choices? I mean come on, what the hell is she wearing? That dress with those shoes? Oh hell no."

I rolled my eyes. "You and Jackson have so much in common," I muttered.

"Seriously," She said as gestured to her and I was just thankful that we were far enough away that she wouldn't notice. "I mean besides the fact that the shoes don't go with the dress, it's hot out. Like strut around in nothing but a bikini hot and this rat is wearing a long-sleeved, turtleneck dress. I mean it is a pretty dress, I'll give her that, but not at all appropriate for the weather."

"Julie," I said, drawing her attention to me. "We have bigger problems than her fashion sense."

"Are we talking about Jackson Storm or Kurt Branson now?"

"Well since I don't think Jackson's going to kill us, I'm going with Branson." I looked to Damien. "Does the FBI have anything on him?"

Damien shook his head. "The name Kurt Branson wasn't even on our radar until you mentioned that he was one of the men working for your father. The only information that comes up when we run his name through the FBI database is some old information. Nothing that helps us now."

"What kind of information?" I asked.

"Date of birth, schools he attended, places he grew up, that sort of thing," Damien replied. "Nothing current. He does have a bit of a military history though, but that's it. After that it's like he just dropped off the face of the earth. You probably know more about him than I do."

"Yeah but I still don't know much," I replied. "I only really know what he's done, nothing about him personally."

"I don't think we really want to know him personally," Julie muttered as she picked up her coffee. "Just saying."

Damien nodded. "We don't get too close to this guy. Although, we might try asking Storm what he knows about him."

I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head in frustration. "Jackson's not going to tell us shit. He's very careful with making sure we only know what he wants us to know and nothing more. And I get the feeling he knows this guy personally, which means he's definitely not going to share."

"Alright," Julie said. "Plan b, we kidnap blondie and make her tell us about her husband."

"Considering she clearly knows what he does and is involved in it herself, I doubt she'd tell us anything," I reminded her.

I looked back over at "Mrs. Branson." She was still flipping through a magazine between taking bites of her food. She wasn't doing anything unusual. Didn't seem to be plotting anything. She was just, living like it was any other day. And to her, I suppose it was.

I let out a sigh. "This really isn't getting us anywhere." I waved to the waiter and asked him to bring us the bill after he'd come over. "And if we don't want to piss off Jackson, I suppose we have some shopping to do."

Julie shrugged. "Suit yourself, but I'm wearing a t-shirt and a baseball cap. And you know, maybe the mask since it is a masquerade thing."

I shook my head and smiled. "Classy," I told her.

She smiled back at me. "What can I say? I like to make an impression."

Damien pushed himself to his feet. "Are you really just going to do this to piss off Jackson?"

"Yep," Julie replied as she grabbed her purse and phone.

"Shame," Damien said as he slipped his phone in his pocket. "It would have been nice to have seen you in a dress."

Julie and I watched him walk off without saying anything. She finally turned to me and jerked her thumb in his direction.

"He's just trying to get in my head, isn't he?"

I nodded as I got to my feet. "Definitely."

She stared in his direction for a long moment. "Damn it," She muttered. "It's working."

I laughed and grabbed hold of her arm. "Come on, we got stuff to do."

The moment we stepped outside of the restaurant my phone began ringing. I pulled it out of my purse to see an unknown number on the screen.

"Storm?" Julie asked me.

"Who else?" I muttered in annoyance and I answered. "What do you want?"

There was silence for a moment. "Giving up so soon?" A soft, feminine voice questioned.

My head snapped up and I immediately looked across the street. She had her phone pressed to her ear with one hand and gave me a finger wave with the other, a pair of big-rimmed sunglasses obscuring the better part of her face.

"I was just about to do something illegal," She said as she smiled. "Just to make it interesting for you."

"Really?" I questioned as I elbowed Julie and then nodded my head in her direction. Julie narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at "the rat." "Well, I'm not stopping you."

She laughed, and it wasn't mocking, wasn't sinister, it was . . . a genuine laugh. "I have to say," She spoke again. "I didn't notice you until after I'd left the hotel. Which means you have . . . some talent."

"I'm flattered you think so," I replied dryly.

She laughed again. "Next time," She said as she closed the magazine on her lap and set it on the table. "try to make it more of a challenge to spot you."

She got up from the table, gathering her things. "And tell your friend I adore her heels." There was a click as she hung up. I watched her slip the phone into her purse, blow a kiss in our direction and walk off.

Julie blew out a harsh breath. "I hate her."

"She said to tell you she adores your heels," I told her.

Julie glanced down at her shoes and then glared back in the direction she'd disappeared. "I still hate her. But at least she does have some fashion sense."

She glanced at me. "How long did she know were following her for?"

I made a face. "Pretty much the entire time." I turned back to Julie. "She also said to try and make it more of a challenge next time."

"Give me the room number. I'll give her a fucking challenge."

I rolled my eyes with a smile. "Come on," I said to her. "let's just get this day over with first."

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