“In how many fucking pieces?” he booms.
His words have me breaking out in a sweat. “I’ll burn that society to the ground if they hurt her.”
“Consider it a fucking party because I’ll string them up by their balls,” Aidan vows.
Eoghan seethes, “Not before I’ve picked them off like pigeons.”
Dipping his chin at his brothers, then me, Brennan swipes a hand through his hair. But when his phone lights up, he nearly drops it in his haste to read the message he’s received.
Conor: Alec Carver’s involved in Victoria’s disappearance? He’s a senior on track for a major in marketing. Son of Desiree Carver—she saved Fetch Bank from crashing during the ‘08 recession.
“Ask Conor to see if he can access the NYPD’s surveillance system. Track the vehicle’s movements the last couple of days?”
When my cell buzzes inside my jacket pocket, I immediately accept the call.
“Maxim?”
Pressing a hand to the nearest wall, I use it to prop me up. Then, knowing she needs me, I snarl at her family, “It’s her.” Endeavoring to keep my tone calm, I put the phone on speaker. “Victoria, where are you?”
“I need a lawyer.” Her voice turns syrupy. “Excuse me, officer. Which police precinct am I in?”
“We’re in Mt. Palisades, miss. There’s only one here.”
“I’ve never been in this kind of situation before, officer,” she murmurs, that syrupy sweetness turning gooier than taffy. It’s so unlike Victoria that all of us share a bewildered look. “What happens when my lawyer comes? Do they ask for Detective Bordeau’s name or for mine?”
Brennan’s already typing out the detective’s name and sending it off to Conor.
“They can ask for either.” He clears his throat. “I’ll stay by the entrance and make sure that your legal counsel makes it to you.”
“What’s your name again, officer? You’ve been so kind during this difficult time.”
“Oh, it’s fine, miss. But, erm, my name’s, erm, Brady Niven.”
“Thank you so much.” To me, her voice still that butter-soft coo, she continues, “Rachel Laker, Wynter’s mom. She’ll help.”
I can tell she’s close to hanging up so I rumble, “Victoria?”
“Yes.”
“You are my business,pchelka.”
Her swift inhalation is the only answer I get before she cuts the line.
My jaw works as I find Rachel Laker’s name in my contacts. “She used names for a reason.”
“They arrested her?” Eoghan snaps. “What the fuck is going on?”
“This is better than a hostage situation,” Misha points out. “Real-life consequences that someone like her wouldn’t be used to handling. Good way of measuring her strengths and weaknesses when she’s backed into a corner.”
I hate that he’s right. But, mostly, I just appreciate that we know her location. Something is better than nothing.
When Rachel Laker’s number rings off, I try again.
“Bordeau,” Brennan reels from his phone. “One of Mt. Palisades’ most decorated cops, according to Conor, but also one with the highest number of complaints against him.” His jaw clenches. “By women defendants.”
“I’ll end him,” I rage.
Misha grabs me by the arm. “Later. Let’s figure out what the fuck’s happening first.”
