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“Show me what you’ve got, and I’ll take over,” Callan conceded. “But promise me you’ll go back home and try to empty your head. We’re no good to anyone if we’re both dead on our feet.”
The barest hint of a smile touched Roseline’s lips, although it was clear that she was debating doing the exact opposite. “Deal. Now let me walk you through what I found.”
She clicked through a series of spreadsheets, transaction reports, offshore account records, and other esoteric financial data. Callan did his best to follow the complex information she presented, asking clarifying questions whenever she lapsed into jargon beyond his grasp. He might never have her intuitive fluency in the digital realm, but he was trying his damndest to learn. Lives depended on them working in tandem, utilizing both their skill sets.
After fifteen minutes of scrutinizing the data side-by-side, the implications became clear. Both Vincent Garofalo and Enzo DeLuca had recently transferred exorbitant sums to the same mysterious offshore account registered to an entity called Endymion LLC. Further analysis showed those payments were linked to encrypted transactions on an exclusive internet gambling platform on the dark web.
The Game Master’s web forum—or his hunting ground for luring victims into his clutches.
“Holy shit,” Callan breathed. “This Endymion LLC account… It’s how that psycho is targeting new marks to manipulate and bleed dry.”
Roseline gave a terse nod, lips pressed into a tight line. “Exactly,” she said. “He reels them in with rigged bets, bleeding them dry before…” She trailed off, but the unspoken words hung heavy between them.
Before viciously murdering them live for an audience of sociopaths.
“We need to get a list of all recent transactions to and from that account,” Callan said urgently. “It’ll give us a roster of potential new victims we might be able to save.”
“On it.” Roseline’s fingers flew across the keys with lightning speed.
Callan observed the dancing lines of code reflected in the lenses of her glasses, once again awed by her technical prowess. Moments later, she pulled up Endymion LLC’s financial transaction records.
“Bingo,” she muttered. “Here are all the major money transfers during the past two months. Big lump sums from multiple offshore corporations and holding companies.”
She scrolled through the list of transactions, jotting down the various shell company names. Callan’s pulse began racing as he recognized certain business entities known to be mob fronts. Whoever was behind them could very well be the Game Master’s next targets.
Now they knew where to start.
When Roseline finished the compilation of potential victims, Callan scanned it, etching names and shell companies into his mind. If he moved fast enough, he could locate these men and warn them before the Game Master could strike again.
“I should get out in the field to try to find these possible targets,” Callan declared, already shrugging on his jacket. “With any luck, I can speak to some of them, then get them into protective custody before that psycho can abduct them.”
“That’s a lot of work. I’m coming with you. We’ll cover more ground split up.” Her tone brooked no argument.
Callan hesitated, seeing the determined set of her delicate jawline but also the darkening circles under her weary eyes. His first instinct was to protect her from the seedy dangers of canvassing the city’s underbelly. But he also knew how fiercely independent and capable she was. Roseline wouldn’t appreciate being coddled or sidelined.
“You need to rest. And don’t take it wrong, but I just want you to be safe,” Callan explained. “Some of the places we’ll have to go to find these men aren’t areas where a cop will be welcomed warmly. Especially not a woman.”
Roseline’s crystalline eyes flashed. “You think I can’t handle myself because I’m a woman?” she challenged. “That’s what you really think?”
Callan held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “That’s not what I meant at all, and you know it. I know better than anyone that you can handle yourself in any situation. You’re the toughest, sharpest, most brilliant woman I’ve ever met.”
“But the kinds of criminals we’ll be dealing with, they see women differently,” Callan continued. “As weaker. Easier to take advantage of. I don’t want to expose you to danger that I can handle alone.”
Her gaze narrowed, and she didn’t react to his words.
He reached out to clasp her delicate hand in his larger, rougher one. “Please, Roseline. For my peace of mind. Stay here where I know you’ll be secure while I chase down these leads. We’ll make better progress if we divide and conquer. I’ll even call Brandon to back me up. I’ll be okay.”
Roseline hesitated, her face clearly exposing the war between her desire to act and Callan’s appeal to her reason.
Seeing she still wavered in indecision, Callan decided he needed to convince her to stay put for her own safety. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he reached out and drew Roseline up out of her chair and into the warm circle of his arms.
Before she could react, he brought his lips down on hers in a familiar kiss, conveying all the fierce protectiveness swelling inside him. Their passion ignited easily, as it had during each prior intimate encounter.
Roseline melted against him, her eyelids fluttering closed as she returned his kiss with a fervor that left him reeling, drawing every cell until every part of him wantedher.
Time seemed to dilate and contract until Callan reluctantly pulled back, pulse hammering in his temple. His body craved more, but duty called.
Roseline’s sea-blue eyes were glazed, lips parted as she blinked up at him. A ragged sigh slipped from her lips.
