Free Head Over Heels (The Bridesmaids Club Book 3) by Leeanna Morgan Page B

prison.
    Todd knew Mitch was pissed off. On his last trip to New York, he’d flaunted what he knew under Mitch’s nose to get him out in the open. From the network of people he’d cultivated, he’d discovered that some local politicians were as dirty as Mitch Zambezi. Todd’s philosophy had been simple; hook one senator of dubious character and you had Mitch scrambling to untangle himself from the lies and deceit that wove them together.
    Todd knew he had to think smart if he wanted to stay alive. He forced the images of his wife and son to the back of his head. He was so damn close to stopping Mitch that he could almost smell the monster’s aftershave. But close wouldn’t get him anywhere except killed.
    While Dylan told him everything Detective Munroe had said, he focused on the tub of flowers beside Pastor Steven’s front door. There were pansies, maybe some daisies. Other flowers cascaded over the edge of the container. They didn’t need much care, just a steady stream of water and a whole pile of good intentions.
    Dylan was almost paranoid about Todd’s safety.
    “He won’t find me.” Todd turned his back on the flowers and stared down the street. He was looking for something that wasn’t there - inconsistencies, small differences that weren’t part of normal everyday life. If Dylan had been standing in front of him, he would have been scowling something fierce by now.
    It wouldn’t matter what Todd did to become invisible. They both knew that Mitch Zambezi could find anyone he wanted to. He’d done it once and he’d do it again. But this time he wouldn’t leave any loose ends to trip him up.
    “Detective Munroe said Mama’s Boys are in an uproar.” Dylan paused, then continued on. He didn’t need to tell Todd what an idiot he’d been. “We stirred up a hornets’ nest in New York. The thugs the police arrested were all related to Mad Mitch. With them out of the gene pool, everyone’s scrambling for position. Mitch wants a successor named before he leaves the Bronx.”
    That was news to Todd. Mitch never left his old stomping ground. “Where’s he going?”
    “You don’t want to know,” Dylan said.
    “Wait…” Todd was trying to process what his friend had said. “Is Mitch coming here? To Bozeman?”
    “That’s what Detective Munroe told me,” Dylan said slowly. “His information could be wrong, but I wouldn’t bet on it. You need to stay low, maybe even get out of town for a while.”
    “He never leaves New York,” Todd insisted. “I’ve been tracking him for three years. The guy’s a master of deception, but he never leaves the city.”
    “I guess he’s changed his mind. Exactly what did you find in New York?”
    Todd moved away from the front of the house. “I can’t tell you.”
    “You can, and you will.”
    Todd walked under an old oak tree down the side of Pastor Steven’s home. He hadn’t wanted to drag Dylan into the mess he’d created, but he’d run out of options. Mitch Zambezi’s business had taken a path that was so twisted that Todd felt sick thinking about it. The less Dylan knew, the safer he’d be.
    “If I tell you, it could put you in even more danger. The FBI are working the case. I’m not getting involved again.”
    “It’s too late,” Dylan’s voice was low and gritty. “There’s something else you need to know.”
    Todd braced himself for what was coming next.
    “Sally had dinner with Tess and Logan last night. She thinks someone’s following her.”
    Todd froze. He had to remember to breathe, to suck oxygen into his lungs and kick-start his brain. He’d heard those words before, laughed them off as his wife’s overactive imagination. He wasn’t laughing now.
    “Speak to me,” Dylan barked.
    “I’ve got to find Sally.” Todd ended the conversation with Dylan and called Sally’s cell phone. It kept ringing, flipping to voice mail before he’d made it back to his truck. He unlocked his door, threw his cell phone on the seat and