Declan smiles again, and I know before he speaks that he's done giving me anything useful. "Go home, Detective. You have one now, don't you?"
“I’m not fucking going anywhere.”
Declan just laughs. “You don’t get it, do you? That’s the beauty of the network. Some of us know that the others exist but mostly, we only operate so that all the wheels keep turning.” He clicks his tongue. “Eventually, you’ll break down the system but none of us know how many cogs there are in the wheel. You caught the loud one.” He starts clapping. “Congratulations. But Jesus, there’s so many more.”
I frown, trying to understand what he’s saying.
“Wait... so there’s no one running the network?”
“Not that I know it. It’s just a bunch of mutual interests. We never shared more information than necessary. Good luck, Detective.”
Reyes is waiting outside the interview room with two paper cups of coffee and the expression of someone who's been debating whether to kick the door open for the last fifteen minutes. She hands me one without asking.
"You get anything?" she asks.
I take a sip and regret it immediately. "That Cardinal's bigger than the warehouse, Hex never knew the full structure, and Declan enjoys sounding like a cult pamphlet with cheekbones."
"Gross."
"Very."
She looks through the small window in the door. Declan has his head tilted back now, eyes closed like he's meditating. "Do you believe him?"
"Yes."
"That Hex didn't know?"
"That Cardinal could afford to lose him." I look down at the file in my hand, the notes already written in the margins, the thread that won't close no matter how badly I want to take it home and burn it in Kade's sink. "The warehouse was real. The arrests were real. We cut off something important."
"But not the whole thing."
"No."
Reyes exhales through her nose. "I hate when the bad guys are right in a dramatic way."
"He's not right. He's indicted."
"That's the spirit."
My phone buzzes before I can answer.
Kade.
We're outside.
A second message follows before I can type back.
Emrys says you have five minutes before he comes in with snacks and moral outrage.
I stare at the screen longer than the message requires.
Reyes leans sideways to read it, because privacy has never once survived a partnership with her. "Oh good. Your keepers have arrived."
"My pack."
The words are easier to say out loud now.
"Yeah," she says. "Your pack. Go home, Sky."
