Not.
At.
All.
Thanks to the CIA computer, he had compiled a shit ton of things on Daphne.
It was bullshit that the CIA didn’t work inside the country because they had a file on the woman.
And he had friends too.
Once they had her real name, he’d been able to get the information on her. The CIA threw nothing out, even if the person was in the witness protection program.
ESPECIALLY THEN.
When she peeked her head into his office, he waved her in.
“Have a seat.”
She did, and she was smiling at him. From her well-coifed hair to the perfect smile, he was curious about one thing.
Basically, how could she live with herself after covering up the homicides of so many cops?
“So, what’s this case about?” she asked. “How many bodies are we talking?”
He went there.
“A few. We have dead cops.”
She sighed.
“Oh, no. Really? That’s terrible. What happened?” Sasha asked.
He played the game.
“Yeah, it appears they were taken down in a hit. Someone had it in for them, and their lives were snuffed out. You know how mob shit happens every now and again. We have a few mob assholes inPhilly.”
As he spoke, she stared him right in the eyes and didn’t flinch.
Oh, she was foul.
That was ice cold to not even have an ounce of remorse.
Greyson knew a psychopath when he saw one. He didn’t need Ethan to profile that. A part of him was disgusted that he’d ever slept with her.
She.
Was.
Disgusting.
In fact, she might be the worst human being on the planet, and that was saying a lot.
“I’m sorry to hear that. We’ll get them justice,” she offered. “We always do. Will Ethan be handling this case? Gene?”
Greyson didn’t want his friends’ names in her mouth.
EVER.
