Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) novel Chapter 1242

Andrew was in his car when he dialed Tiana's number.

"Mrs. Rhodes, heads up! Quinton is snooping around your family's business!"

"What do you mean, snooping around?" Tiana asked, puzzled.

"Does your family have a piece of that legendary treasure map?" Andrew inquired.

Tiana responded calmly, "Treasure map? I have no idea what you're talking about."

Andrew chuckled. "Whether you're playing coy or you're genuinely in the dark, Mrs. Rhodes. Just know that I've given you the heads-up!

"You and Mr. Rhodes should watch your backs and keep that map piece safe. Quinton's got some tricks up his sleeve!"

With that, Andrew ended the call.

Tiana was always careful, and feigning ignorance was her way of playing it safe.

Andrew's goal, however, was to alert the Rhodes family to be cautious, not to express interest in their map fragment.

With the message delivered, he did not waste more words.

Night had fallen, and the Oak Apothecary was closed for the day.

As Andrew parked, a small side door creaked open.

Natasha greeted him with a playful smirk, "Look who's here, my dashing hero! Caught any bad guys today?"

Stepping through the door into the apothecary, Andrew spotted Ronan and his granddaughter, Janice.

Janice shyly waved, "Hey, Andrew, you made it!"

Andrew nodded with a smile, "Janice, you and your grandpa doing okay?"

Janice chuckled, "No worries, we had big sis here and her crew watching our backs!"

Big sis?

Andrew shot a look at Natasha. The widow was well into her thirties, nudging forty.

Really, Janice ought to be calling her 'madam'!

However, Andrew knew better than to wade into the minefield of a woman's age.

The guy's face, already tender from a previous encounter with Andrew, split open at the barely healed scars.

He howled in agony, "Andrew, what's the big idea? We're Mosby's students. If you mess with us, our mentor will have your head!"

Andrew's laugh was harsh and sharp as ice. "Let's loosen him up a bit more!"

Natasha, silent as the grave, grabbed the man's fingers. With a cruel twist, they snapped like dry twigs.

"Enough, enough! I get it, I'm wrong, Mr. Lloyd, call off your attack…"

Pain painted the man's face a sickly shade of purple as he wailed pitifully, begging for mercy.

Mosby's other disciples were a sorry sight, too scared to stand, plopping down on the ground, on the verge of embarrassing themselves.

Andrew snorted disdainfully and fixed his gaze on Old Hayface. "I'll ask, you'll answer. Are we clear?"

The man nodded frantically. "Crystal clear, no problems at all!"

Andrew pressed on, "So, Mosby's got the rest of the fragmented maps, doesn't he?"