Ruby drops into the chair across from me and props her boots on the desk. She’s clearly enjoying the conversation that’s causing my brain to pulse against my skull.
“Well, honey, I tried, but the man at the store said I needed to have i-dent-if-ication.” The word crawls out, dripping with Southern sass. “’Course I don’t have a driver’s license anymore and he wouldn’t take my Magnolia Hill resident card. Or the extra twenty I tried to bribe him with.”
“You tried to bribe him?”
Ruby’s feet drop to the ground as she leans forward, her eyes sparkling. “Speaker,” she whispers, gesturing at my cell phone. “Put it on speaker.”
I shake my head and frown at the very clear amusement she’s getting from my grandmother trying to invoke her Second Amendment rights.
“He didn’t take it,” Gran continues. “Good fella, that one. Said I can’t buy a gun until I bring back my state-issued ID.”
I exhale, relieved that, at the very least, someone out there is following the law. “Gran, you don’t need a gun.” I’m already mentally drafting thetext that sends my mom to Magnolia Hill on a covert mission to confiscate Gran’s ID. But first things first. “Why is Toby telling you to buy a gun?”
“Oh, he’s not, honey.” I hearWheel of Fortuneblaring in the background. Gran raises her voice to compete with the TV. “He teaches self-defense, and Bernie asked if we were too old to own guns, and he said no. So Bernie and I got to thinking—we should get a pistol. You know, kind of like as a mascot for our club.”
Ruby snorts. Loudly. I glare at her. She grins and mouths,I love her.I toss a pen at her head, which she dodges like she trains regularly for this kind of abuse—just as SAC Katherine Scott walks into the office.
“Gran, I’ve got to go,” I say quickly. “But you do not need a gun for your club.”
“But we’ve already got the pearls.”
Ruby is practically choking on her laughter now, and Katherine gives me thatdo I need to be concerned?look.
“Gran,” I say, fighting the headache pulsing behind my eyes, “do not buy any guns from anyone—at least until I can go with you and help you pick one out.”
Katherine raises an eyebrow. Ruby blinks at me in surprise. I shake my head quickly—absolutelynothappening—but it’s easier to let Gran think I’m on board than to start a whole new argument. I wrap up the call, making her promise—twice—that she won’t buy any weapons without checking with me first.
“Weapons?” Katherine settles into her chair. Behind her, the Dallas skyline flickers to life against the velvet dusk. “Is this the part where I start worrying?”
“With my gran? Always.”
“How do I join her Pistols and Pearls club?” Ruby grins. “I don’t own pearls, but I have a pistol.”
“You’re about fifty years too young,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And I’m texting my father to make sure no one at her retirement community is, as Gran put it, ‘packing heat.’” I throw up air quotes for good measure.
Ruby chuckles. Katherine still looks like she’s debating a backgroundcheck on my grandmother—and honestly, based on the stories Dad used to tell me about her, it’s probably overdue.
But the humor fades as my mind shifts back to the reason we’re still at the office after hours.
“That was... enlightening,” Katherine says, arching a brow as she sets a folder on the table. “If you’re sure your grandmother isn’t going to end up on a federal watch list, let’s see if we can end this night before the cleaning crew gets here.”
I toss my phone onto the desk and reach for the folder Seth dropped off earlier. “Let’s talk VerityCrypto.” I flip it open and slide matching documents to them. “Seth’s done a preliminary pass. On the surface, it looks like a textbook crypto startup—fast growth, strong branding, media spin. But there are a few things that make him uneasy.”
“Like what?” Ruby asks.
“Timing inconsistencies. Certain wallet addresses rerouting through strange exchanges. A couple of offshore registrations that look clean, but the time stamps don’t match up with the press releases,” I say, recalling the way Seth explained it to me. Like I was five. There’s a reason I didn’t go into forensic accounting. Numbers. “He says there’s nothing solid yet, but he’s flagging it for further review once OSB is done.”
Katherine nods. “Operation Shadow Broker is the priority. We can’t dig too deep—not yet. Too much noise and we risk Ramirez catching wind. And we still don’t have enough for a RICO indictment.” She looks to Ruby. “What do we know about Earl Edmond?”
Ruby opens her own file. “Interestingly enough, Edmond’s real estate company has had its own questionable dealings. In the early days of his company’s growth, there were inflated valuations, kickbacks, a few red-flagged contractors. Our white-collar crime division tagged Earl Edmond early on for public corruption and financial crimes, but it never turned into a case.”
“Why not?” I ask. If Earl Edmond had been charged, Cybil wouldn’t be working for him and she wouldn’t be caught in the middle of this mess.
“Not sure,” Ruby answers. “There aren’t any notes in the file. But Idid a little digging, and what’s interesting is that it looks like he’s tried to clean up. His wife died six years ago, complications from pneumonia. That’s about the same time he started bringing in compliance experts and streamlining operations, but it cost him. Nearly thirty percent revenue drop, causing contractors to walk and investors to pull back.”
“So either grief made him grow a conscience,” Katherine says, “or he’s playing the long game.”
“Which could explain why he’s entertaining a deal with Ramirez.” Ruby looks between us. “Ramirez offers big cash. A fast return. Edmond might be desperate to recover losses.”
