My mate rubbed his chin, looking in the direction of the gate. His mind was already conjuring up all the possible danger these recent events might put me in. I hated that he was stressed because of me. Since the beginning, I’d been causing Terry problems.
“So we have nothing on Carlos,” I said when I couldn’t bear the silence any longer.
Terry blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, Lothair.”
“You sound like it’s your fault.” I took his hand and kissed his palm. “How about you try not to think about it all the time, huh? It bugs you not to know where he is, but Carlos isn’t stupid. He might have left the country already.”
“He paid a man to assault you. How do you know he won’t do it again?”
“Because it’s risky, and he has nothing to gain from it.”
Terry looked unconvinced. “Do you have any idea about the state of his assets? Any offshore accounts? Properties abroad? Stuff like that?”
“I honestly don’t know. Does it matter?”
“It might. I’m wondering how desperate he is.”
“Maybe Paris knows more, and that’s why he invited us over,” I said hopefully.
Terry stood and tugged me up by my hand.
“Maybe. We should get ready. We’re expected at Paris’s in less than two hours, and there’s bound to be a lot of traffic.”
Sitting on Paris’s patio,I watched the horses graze. It’d been a while since I last rode a horse. The beasts didn’t appreciate dragon shifters all that much, and some got really antsy when they smelled one near. Dogs loved us, though. I wondered why that was. I should ask Terry about it later.
Boone sat with us, glued to Paris’s side as always.
“Thank you for the invitation,” Terry said, eyeing them apprehensively. “I assume you have some news for us.”
“Nothing bad,” Paris said. “Consider this a friendly update.”
“Is it about Carlos Sorensen?”
Paris nodded.
“The problem has been taken care of,” Boone said with no trace of emotion in his voice. He held Paris’s hand on the sofa between them. It was then I noticed the faint scrapes and bruises on his knuckles. I didn’t want to imagine how the meeting with Carlos had gone. Boone hadn’t killed the little scumbag, had he? Would I care if he had?
“Sorensen handed over the materials and destroyed all copies,” Paris added. “My people also suggested he’d benefit from leaving the city.” Still alive then and probably gone. Good riddance.
Terry shifted next to me. “And he did that voluntarily?”
“More or less.” Smiling like an angel, Paris brought a coffee cup to his lips.
Like me, Terry must have deemed it smart not to ask any more about it. He finished his drink and set the empty glass on the coffee table. “We have reason to believe that Carlos has been sabotaging Lothair for months, maybe even years. There’ve been intentional leaks from his office, setups leading to scandals, and even suspicious accidents on set.”
Paris arched his eyebrows. “If he wanted Lothair to get hurt, why did he insist on hiring you?”
“Maybe it was a combination of guilt, calculation, and a cover-up,” Terry replied. “While he always wanted something going on around Lothair to keep him on the front pages, he also needed him to survive more or less unscathed.”
“And Toby the Screamer?” I asked Paris. “Was that you as well?”
Paris tilted his head, seeming confused. “The screamer?”
Swallowing a laugh, Terry explained. “Toby Olsen, the man who’s in jail for vehicular assault against Lothair, has started talking to the police. He now claims Carlos paid him to do it.”
“Getting Olsen to tell the truth wasn’t difficult when we could provide him with a good lawyer,” Paris said. “Sadly, with his history, he’s not considered a reliable witness.”
“And that’s why Carlos is still free.”
