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Connor had to admit, he was interested in whatever this “story” was, but he couldn’t let her into Freddy’s place until he was sure there wasn’t some massive poster with his real name and job title on it. “You want to break into a paranoid ex-military man’s apartment to get a flash drive?”

“Yes, but you should know I think he might have the place booby-trapped.”

He sighed. “Well, it’s not like I had anything better to do today.”

“Good, because I have a plan.” She hopped up, then chose the chair beside him, sitting so close her knees were touching his. “But we can talk about that later. First you can yell at me because I might have invited someone over without talking to you first.”

“Who?” He was well aware his tone could have iced over the room. Jealousy sprang up in his chest. Was it another man? He’d explained how he felt about that.

If she felt the chill, she didn’t show it. Her leg rubbed against his. “Her name is Everly Parker. I don’t know if you follow the tabloids, but she’s kind of a celebrity right now. She’s Maddox Crawford’s secret half sister.”

“The guy who died in the plane crash?” Mad. He still couldn’t believe Mad was gone. He still expected to open the door and find Mad standing there with a ridiculously expensive bottle of Scotch in hand, telling him that the death gig had been one big joke.

“Yes, that Maddox Crawford. He ran Crawford Industries, which was caught in this big scam with the Russian mob. As far as I can tell, Crawford didn’t know his business was being used as a front for human trafficking.”

Wow. She’d twisted that around more than a little. “I remember reading about that. I don’t think the Russian mob was embedded in the business, just using a charity Crawford Industries supported as a front.”

“Right.” She nodded. “I forgot. I don’t have my notes in front of me. Anyway, Everly Parker is coming here at noon and I think she’s bringing her fiancé with her.”

“Why is she coming to see you?” Roman had worked fast. Connor hadn’t expected to see Ev for another day or two. And he hadn’t been sure Gabe would come. What the hell could he say to the man who’d once thought of him like a brother? God knew he’d been silent since Connor had unleashed the massacre at the Crawford building, since Gabe had looked at him like he was a monster.

“Okay, here’s the other part you’re going to be mad about, but I want you to put yourself in my shoes. I didn’t really know you so it didn’t make sense to tell you everything.”

“So it makes sense to put your life in my hands, but not to tell me about everything that could harm you?”

She sighed at his sarcasm. “Fine. I should have told you, but this could be the biggest story I’ve ever broken and it ties in to the work I’m doing with Freddy. I was in Manhattan a few months ago. I was visiting a friend and working on a story about businesses paying EPA inspectors to look the other way. That story got picked up by the Times. Oh, they won’t ever admit it, but they used my source and everything.”

If he didn’t corral her, she would go off on a tangent about the Times and big business destroying the little guy. “You were in Manhattan and . . . ?”

She refocused. “I got a call from a man. I still have no idea where he got my cell number. Or who the heck he was. Anyway, he tells me he knows all about Capitol Scandals.”

Now that was new information. He’d been running on the theory that she knew Deep Throat. But another person—a total stranger—was aware of her secret identity? That list was starting to get awfully crowded. “And you didn’t think that information was relevant to me?”

Every time he got cold, she seemed to warm up another degree. She curled her fingers over his arm, rubbing as if she petted him. Like she meant to soothe him? “I’ve had other things on my mind since then, but I can see now where it’s relevant. Anyway, when he called, he said he had information I needed to hear.”

“Tell me you didn’t meet with him.” He knew she had, but accepting that was different now. Lara had put herself in danger by secretly meeting a man she didn’t know, one who had valuable information about her.

She had the good sense to wince. “I would love to be able to tell you that, but I did. That’s where I found out about Natalia Kuilikov and her ties to Crawford Industries. My informant thinks Maddox Crawford was killed because he knew too much about her and a man named Sergei.”

A chill went up Connor’s spine. That Russian name came up a lot. He still didn’t know who the fucker was. And he sure as hell didn’t like it. “Who’s Sergei?”

“I don’t know. I was told to find him. He’s the smoking gun, I guess. To do that, I need to find Natalia Kuilikov first.”

“Does Everly Parker know Natalia? Is that why you’re meeting with her?” Everly would do just about anything to track down the Russian immigrant. She was sure Natalia would bring her closer to truly understanding why Mad had been killed by the Russian mob after he’d discovered the human trafficking ring. But Everly thought it went deeper, and every word out of Lara’s mouth made Connor believe that, too.

“Apparently she was contacted by the same man. He told her to get in touch with me, that we have different pieces of the same puzzle.”

“Why should we care about this, Lara?” Because it would be the kind of story that would garner her international exposure and credibility?

She frowned and took her time replying. He sat in stilted silence as she squirmed in her seat. He didn’t do a damn thing to break the tension. She should feel it, understand that he was serious.

“It goes back to the story I’m working on with Freddy.”

He stared, waiting for her to continue.

Lara frowned. “You know you can be very intimidating.”

“I can also be very nasty when I don’t get the answers I want. Tell me what you’re working on.”

“Joy Hayes’s death.”

She managed to surprise him. “Joy Hayes was killed by a whack job who was trying to get the president.”

Connor should know. He had chased the man down. He had shot and executed the assassin that day. All the press reports simply stated that one of the candidate’s bodyguards had killed the man. Roman had managed to keep Connor’s name out of the press.

“I don’t think so. I believe the president hired someone to assassinate his wife three days before Election Day because he was several points down in key battleground states and he was going to lose. I think the event was carefully orchestrated, right down to the way Hayes held his dying wife onstage, for maximum press exposure and sympathy. Rumors are that their marriage was one of political convenience and that she intended to leave him if he didn’t win the White House. Americans poured their hearts out to him and swept him into office.” She shrugged. “I also believe that Sergei is the real assassin.”

Rage threatened to pour from Connor. He’d been there that day. He’d seen the devastation. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do,” she said quietly, almost sympathetically. “I have proof and you can get it for me tonight. I know you like the man, but I believe he’s all kinds of dirty. I think he might even have ties to the Russian mob, and this Sergei person can prove it. I’m going to track down Natalia Kuilikov and then I’m going to find this mysterious guy. Once I dig up the truth, I’m going to make sure Zack Hayes can never hold political office again.”

She was embroiled in eve

rything Roman had sworn she was. Lara was actively plotting against his president, his friend.

Connor knew he was going to have to choose. There was no choice, right? Zack had stood by him. He knew the guy, had known him since they were just children trying to make it in a world they didn’t understand. He’d seen Zack’s grief. No, their marriage hadn’t been perfect, but Zack and Joy had been friends and partners. He still mourned her to this day.

“Over my dead body.”

“What?” She sat straight up, blinking owlishly as if she couldn’t quite believe what she’d heard.

“You’re not going to make up shit and call it news, Lara.”

A flush stole across her skin. “I knew you wouldn’t like it, but you have to give me a chance to show you what I’ve found. Once you see the evidence, you’ll understand.”

“No, I won’t. I’ll just know that you’re good at crafting fiction. It’s one thing to write an exposé on the president’s dick, but you’re not going to drag a good man down because you think you can.” He pushed back from the table. “You’re going to drop this story.”

Her hands balled into fists, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “No, I’m not. And I don’t make stuff up. I’ve never run a story I wasn’t absolutely one hundred percent sure of.”

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