Page 163 of Lethal Obsession

I grin at the very British diplomacy. Something sensitive undoubtedly means bullets in dangerous places. “Tell him I’ve got an update on the Owens file.”

“Update on the Owens file.” The assistant repeats my sentence word for word, military-style.

“That’s correct.”

“I’ll ensure he gets the message.” His assistant ends the call.

Too restless to sleep, I send a message to Lars. To my surprise, he calls back on the secure line immediately.

“Motherfucker,” he greets me over what is clearly an extremely raucous party in the background. “If I were you, I’d steer clear of Mickey for a while. He was pissed off about you and Ofelia before Roman spent nearly an hour reading him the riot act. That party you can hear is my attempt to cheer him up.”

If Mickey is pissed off now, just wait until he sees the ring on his sister’s finger.

Now, however, is definitely not the time for that particular news flash.

“I’ve been waiting for you to call,” Lars goes on. “I broke through the wall of that disinformation campaign, or at least, through one layer of it. Traced back the bots and news reports to a single source. Ever heard of the Meridian Network?”

“Funny you should mention that.” I feel the adrenalin fuelled excitement of threads coming together. “I found a donation in the report you sent me that led me to that same company. It took me a while to connect a name, but I found it. I’m sending you a diagram now. I want to know what you think before I take it to Mak, just to be sure I’m not putting a tin foil hat on.”

“Oooh, diagrams and tin foil hats,” he says in his most camp voice. “So analog and Gen X of you, darling.”

“Fuck off.” I hit send and wait.

Less than a minute later, Lars gives a low whistle down the line. “Holy shit.”

“You see it, then?”

“Oh, I see it.” He pauses. “But I wouldn’t have, Lex. No wonder Mak wanted your eye on this. There’s no chance I’d have found this without you. No chance anyone would have.”

“Yeah, well, no chance I’d have tracked those bots back to Meridian without you.”

“Ah, stop sucking my dick, you big tease.”

I grin. This is where Lars and I just work, a symbiotic harmony that’s as close to magic as two people can get without being lovers.

“Silas Thorne is Meridian’s CEO.” I hear Lars’s fingers rattling the keys in the background. “He’s definitely our boy, but that labyrinth of shell companies is as good a corporate front as I’ve ever seen. This fucker does not want to be found.”

“No. I’m guessing that one donation was an oversight, a mistake. It’s the only time Meridian is directly linked to any of this, so be careful looking into it, until we’ve spoken to Mak. If Thorne and these Meridian pricks can cover their tracks this well, don’t go leaving one for them to follow.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Lars sounds almost insulted. “This is a puzzle, friend.” I can hear the excitement in his voice. “One that you and I will solve soon enough. But if you’re right—and motherfucker, I know you are—there’s still a piece or two missing here. I think it’s time I paid you a visit.”

“After what happened in Granada, I don’t want you in that kind of danger.” I think rapidly. “But I could possibly come to you, depending on where you are.”

“By air, less than an hour away from your current position,” he says promptly.

“From my secret location, you mean?” I say dryly.

“Bitch, please.”

I grin, feeling a rush of almost passionate relief at the thought of seeing my oldest friend.

The one person who has always managed, somehow, to chase the darkness and dead faces away.

“Send me the details,” I say. “I’m on my way, motherfucker.”

33

Ofelia