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Dusty looked at her, waited for her to absorb this moment, what he’d done, what he would do, because it was the only testimony he could give since he had no idea why she was so pissed off. Her face folded into confusion. She took a step away from him, turned toward the elevator.
That pickaxe was drawing blood, but he turned toward the door. Why had she called him a liar? “Mack, we’re going to want a couple of concessions before we open this door.”
Behind him, he heard the elevator rise and open. He glanced over his shoulder. She’d climbed inside. She paused. “You know you can’t open that apartment door without me, right?”
Nope. He didn’t. He shrugged. Eventually they’d get someone here to open the door. Judging by the security system she had, it would take a couple of hours.
The elevator door started to close but she stopped it. “First half of the elevator code is on page seventeen in Of Mice and Men. First seven letters going down. The other half is on page three hundred of Anna Karenina. The last letter of the first six lines of dialogue.” She let out a breath, a tear on her cheek. “I’ll see you at Momma’s.”
She let the elevator door close. And Dusty had the most inappropriate sensation he’d ever had in his entire life—relief. Relief, despite being trapped inside her apartment with his SAC on the other side of a steel door, knowing he’d lost his job and was probably going to go to jail.
Though he could always plead crazy. Wouldn’t be the first agent to blur the lines during an undercover operation. Yes, sir, he might just end up in a mental institution. And that shouldn’t make his heart light and put this smile on his face, but there it was. Because Ms. Gracie Parish, despite whatever her head had told her, had just decided to follow her heart with him.
And he intended to see she never regretted that decision.
Chapter 60
Slamming her hands on the armrests on either side of Romeo’s chair, Gracie growled, “Stop ignoring my questions.”
The mood inside Momma and Leland’s sun-streaked office drummed with tension. Momma and Leland watched uneasily from their distinctive desks.
The only person who seemed immune to this palpable stress was Romeo himself. Cool as he was unmoved, handsome, and young. This close, she could smell his deodorant and see the acne on his chin. He shifted.
First sign that she was getting to him. Uncomfortable with someone invading his personal space? Good. She leaned in closer. “Look, Rome, I get it. Cee convinced you to help root out this group, this fraternity, acted like everything you did was related to that, but clearly something else is happening here.”
Silence.
“Did you know she’d reached out to Ty for money?”
Silence.
“Do you know where she’s taken Ty?”
Silence.
Come on, kid. “Why involve Tyler? Did she need his money? Or was it just some way for her to get back at me?”
Romeo’s eyes snapped from staring at the wall to Gracie. “Why would she want to get back at you?” Was that disgust in his voice? “Just because you said you didn’t want her to become part of this family and live here?”
“So she’s talked to you about that?”
Romeo’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know what she’s been through?”
She did. She’d interviewed the kid extensively. And Cee’s story, each and every horrible, gut-churning detail, had come pouring out with an anger that had been chilling. Not sadness. Anger. That’s why Gracie hadn’t wanted her to come here. Cee was the kind of angry person the power of the League could warp.
Pushing off the chair, Gracie leaned back against Leland’s desk. “I know.”
“Then you know that she’s not soft. The fact that you didn’t like her or didn’t want her here didn’t matter to her.”
It obviously mattered enough that she mentioned it to Romeo. “So why reach out to Ty? Why lure my son to…wherever? Why have him deposit money into an account? Did she use that money to set the fire? Did she hire a hit man to kill me? What is she doing with Ty?”
“She didn’t do any of that.” Romeo slammed his hands against his thighs, lurched forward. “That wasn’t her. They were supposed to meet, but not what you’re saying.”
Oh. Man. This was just sad. “I know it’s hard when people lie and abuse your trust, but I’m telling you she did.”
He dropped back against the seat, cast his eyes down with a sigh that said it was all futile. He started to pick at the seam on the side of his jeans, making a flicking noise that rode down her spine like a nail. “She wouldn’t do that. She loves us.”
Kneeling at the side of his chair, she softened her voice. “Look, my son is in danger. The feds are after me. They have a warrant for my arrest, charges include sex-trafficking and blowing up my own club. Somebody set me up, and I’m running out of time. I need to know everything you can tell me about what Cee was working on.”
He flinched. “I’m sorry about all that. But why aren’t you worried about Cee? She’s out there. She rates as much as your son. Doesn’t she?”
What? Gracie’s stomach turned. Good thing she hadn’t eaten anything today. “Are you saying Cee went to meet Ty, but somehow she’s in danger too?”
“Yes.” He straightened up. “That’s what I’ve been saying. She went to meet Ty, that part’s true. But she was supposed to pick up a burner phone and contact me. She never called, never got in touch with me. She wouldn’t disappear like that. She wouldn’t do that. Not to me. Not to Jules. Not to the rest of our unit. And not to you. She wants you to like her.”
She blinked at that. It took her a moment to recapture thought. “You think Cee wants me to like her?”
Anger dive-bombed his face like a kamikaze. “What, just because you’re afraid to trust and love someone you think Cee doesn’t want to be loved?”
Jolted by his anger, Gracie stood up. “No. I—”
“You’re never going to convince me of that. Never. There’s something else going on here. You’re not listening.”
That hit her like an open hand. Warmth spread from her cheeks and down to her chest, a steadfast certainty. He was right. There was something else going on here. And her fear, the one that told her it was logical not to trust—not Cee, not Dusty—was preventing her from seeing that truth. Relaxing shoulders that had risen to her ears, she said, “Okay. I’m listening now. So tell me.”
Romeo pressed hands to his lap and wiped his palms across his jeans. “Cee wasn’t the one to reach out to Ty. Ty reached out to us about the fraternity.”
Her brain stuttered for a moment; a thousand questions pushed forward then landed on, “Cee told me it was a student at the Mantua Academy who told you about this fraternity. That’s not true?”
“Plus minusve.”
Latin for more or less. “Explain that.”
“Jules got an email right after the drone attack from a school email address, from a student who goes to the Mantua Academy. She told her about a girl who’d been victimized and that no one was helping her. We began to do research on the dark web on the girl and on the group.”
Leland stood too, came around his desk and stopped beside Gracie. “You went undercover on the dark web?”
Romeo, looking a little less cocky, nodded. “Yeah. We managed to get into the group, and then get into their online…uh”—his eyes lowered—“red room.”
Leland slammed his hand on his desk, causing the cell Cee had left behind to jump. “You bypassed school security to visit the dark web. Then used school computers to go to a site that live-streamed coeds being drugged, tortured, and raped?”
Romeo held up his hands, shifted back in his seat. Gracie didn’t blame him. She rarely saw Leland so pissed. His voice had dropped to an ominous rumble, like an earthquake. She was pr
etty sure the ground shifted under Romeo’s feet. Even though she knew Leland would never ever touch a hair on their heads, Leland angry was scary.
Romeo shook his head emphatically. “No. No. The security here is too complex. We went to Starbucks, used their Wi-Fi, an anonymizer, and a laptop I purchased and stored off campus.”
These kids. Gracie rubbed her face. “Anonymous isn’t the same thing as secure. A laptop could serve as some damning evidence. They don’t differentiate between accessing those sites to help people vs. going to those sites to hurt people.”
Momma, who’d been unusually quiet, took that moment to say, “Which is why we don’t allow teenagers to conduct unsupervised operations.”
Romeo didn’t glance at Momma, but you’d have to be a robot not to hear the disapproval in her voice. He shifted. “We were smart about it.”
Gracie waved that off. They obviously hadn’t been smart enough about it, but she had bigger fish to fry. Like finding out where Ty fit in with all of this. “So you used the laptop, infiltrated the group, and Cee went after them in North Philly?”
“North Philly?” Leland echoed.
Whoops. She hadn’t told them about that little incident. Honestly, she’d wanted Cee to like her too, to trust her. She gave him and Momma a quick rundown, then asked Romeo, “What happened after that?”
“A few days after Philly, someone reached out to us,” he said. “Asked if we were the vigilantes who took down the North Philly house.”
What? No. With this information Momma stood and moved to stand with her and Leland before Romeo’s seat. Her hands were on her hips, a sure sign of agitation.
Gracie couldn’t blame her. This was unbelievable. As in, something here was not right. Romeo’s shoulders tensed under the tri-person scrutiny.
“The dark web is anonymous,” Gracie said, talking quietly and gently. “What we do at the League is secret. Didn’t you wonder how some random person online figured out what and who you were?”
“Of course. We asked.”
