Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
I return my attention to Paul. “I’ll keep the photo for my personal album, unless you give me a reason to use it otherwise.”
“I’m supposed to be on duty. I’m going to have to explain where I was.”
“That’s a problem for you to figure out. Or we can call Pocher together, if you’d rather. I’ll tell him I ran a test on his security before election night on Tuesday after the massive rally failure. Spoiler. You failed the test.”
“I’ll keep my mouth shut,” he grumbles, and with that win, I glare at Lucas, who’s still standing and presently staring at Paul. “Lucas,” I snap, pointing at the chair. “Sit. Hack.”
Enrique appears in the doorway. “What the fuck, Lilah?”
“Oh, relax. You’re not burying him, Enrique, though Lucas is making me want to cut him.” I glower at him again. “Sit down, Lucas.” This time he sits.
My attention returns to Enrique. “Just take him back to Pocher, will you?”
“Who is he?”
“Pocher’s head of security,” Paul states.
Enrique’s gaze shoots to Lucas. “You did this?”
“I’m a capable person.”
“Spoken with a slur a half bottle deep,” I comment dryly, motioning to the evidence on the table. “Which is why you have to go to rehab—after you find Elsa Walker.”
Paul stiffens. “What about Elsa Walker?”
My gaze rockets to his. “You know her?”
“She and her brother attended a campaign event recently and had VIP backstage passes. I believe Mark donated money to the campaign.”
Okay, I think. This is unexpected when perhaps it shouldn’t have been. Pocher, and now my father, it seems, are into just about everything. And since there’s no such thing as a coincidence, I’d assume this time is no exception.
“Change of plans,” I announce. “I’m coming along for the ride to Pocher’s place.”
If Pocher’s involved, I know exactly how to get him to talk.
Chapter Thirteen
“I hate to burst your bubble,” Paul says, but he doesn’t sound like he hates it at all. “I’m not here with Pocher. With the election four days away, he’s not leaving your father’s side in the city.” He lifts a chin at Lucas. “He snatched me when I arrived to pick up important documents Pocher needed. I never made it past the airport.”
The damn election.
Wait.
The election.
I pull the list from my pocket and show it to Paul. “How many of those people are on the guest list?”
He eyes me. “Why?”
“Because they’re about to die at the hands of a skilled assassin, and so are you if I leave you with Lucas. Not by a skilled assassin, but he’ll eventually hit you if I give him the gun back. Answer the question.”
“Three from memory. There might be more.”
“Call and find out.”
“Lucas has my phone.”
Lucas grunts and slides it across the table, right between Paul’s tied hands. Paul punches a button on the phone and manages to shove it to his ear. “Dave,” he greets, and after a silence, he adds, “My chopper had mechanical issues. I’m still in the Hamptons. I need you to check the invitation list for election night.”
I listen to him read off the names and argue with Dave a minute before he disconnects. “Just the three I mentioned. I need to tell my team there’s a security challenge.”
“If you think it’s a smart decision to go around me, then you go around me, Paul.” My lips curve. “I think I might enjoy how that turns out.”
I ignore him and hand the list to Lucas. “She’ll go after the ones who won’t be at the event. Find those three.” I don’t wait for his confirmation and eye Enrique. “He needs a ride home that’s not with us. Make it happen.”
Enrique rounds the table and orders Paul to his feet while Jay hovers. “I won’t say anything,” he says to me, “for now. I can’t allow the event to go down without extra security.”
“Because you want to keep Pocher and my father safe?”
“Yes.”
“That tells me all I need to know about you, Paul.” I wave Enrique on and then tell Jay, “Go with him.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue. Go. With. Him.”
His lips curl over his teeth like a dog about to bark, and he backs out of the room. I sit down across from Lucas. “What is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with you, Lilah?” he demands, and he’s a lot more sober than I’d believed. His voice is steady, his anger precise and cutting. “You’re an FBI agent, and you haven’t done shit to get justice for my father or your mother. We know they were murdered now. That changes everything.”
“Maybe I should go kidnap everyone, kill them, and have Kane bury the bodies. Is that what you want from me?”
“You bet your ass I do, but I’d settle for you doing anything, Lilah. Your fucking brother is going to work for your father, which means Pocher. One or both of them killed my father and your mother.”