Page 38 of Vicious Betrayal

I also think about the possibility that he knows. That the cancellation is deliberate, a way to pull back and see if I reacted wrong. I wonder if my reaction was what he expected, if it made him think that I'm not to be trusted, or if he believed me.

—

Reyes chooses a Thai place for our next check-in, which I think is supposed to make me feel more at ease. It doesn't, not least of which because I'm worried that somehow Cormac will randomly decide to also come here, and he'll see me here with her. It's ridiculously small odds, but that doesn't stop me from worrying about it.

She's wearing plain clothes, just jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, but there's a watchful tension about her that makes me think she couldn't ever completely pass as just an ordinary citizen.

The moment I get close to the table, she motions sharply for me to take a seat. "Sit down," she says. "I already ordered."

I sit. "I feel like we just talked."

"Well, this is a more pleasant atmosphere. And like I said, neither of us is working with infinite time."

"You think lunch is going to make me more forthcoming?" I stare at her. "If I had anything, I'd give it to you."

"Would you?" Reyes lifts an eyebrow. "Are you sure that you're not thinking about protecting him in some way? Making us think that you're not finding anything so that we feel like you've tried hard enough and take pity on you and your family?"

I press my lips tightly together, taking a beat before I say something rash. "I didn't know that was an option," I finally manage.

Reyes gives me a chilly smile. "It's not. But that doesn't mean I haven't wondered if you'd try. The rules are very simple, Oksana. If you get us what we need, your family won't suffer. If you fail, then we'll have no choice but to move forward with the investigation that your sister has allowed us to open."

She pauses long enough to let the waiter deliver a platter of summer rolls and waters, before looking at me with a newly brusque expression on her face. "So. Since you haven't found any of the paperwork that would help us out, what else can you tell us? What about his schedule? Where does he go regularly, who does he meet, that kind of thing."

It's on the tip of my tongue to say you said you'd been surveilling him, but I don't. I don't think she really needs that information; she just wants me to offer her something. But the problem is, I don't have any of that.

"He's careful," I say quietly. I look at the summer rolls, but I don't reach for one. I don't have any appetite. "He doesn't talk about specific work when I'm around. He's pretty focused on me when I'm there. I was in his office once, but he just had job applications out and some real estate paperwork."

Reyes's eyes sharpen. "Real estate?"

I bite my lip. "Just something about permits for building downtown."

"That could be something. A new business for cover. Or transactions that are laundering money—putting that money through contracts for a new build, that kind of thing. Ask him some questions about that. If he had it out on his desk and allowed you in there, he can't complain about you being curious."

I have a sick feeling in my stomach at the thought. But I just nod, sipping my water to quell the feeling.

"What about his patterns? Where he likes to eat, where he is before you meet up with him, where he's going after. Does he always ride the motorcycle? Does he have extra phones lying around?" She's reading from a mental list, I can tell. "When he's tense, what it's typically about. If he ever mentions names."

I blow out a sharp breath. Everything in me rebels at the thought of telling Reyes about the diner. It feels special to Cormac and me, a thing we shared between the two of us… and it occurs to me in that moment that's precisely why I need to tell her about it.

I shouldn't have special moments with Cormac. There shouldn't be anything binding us together other than good sex. Keeping special things just for us will only make this all harder than it needs to be when it inevitably ends.

"He took me to a diner for breakfast after the second night we spent together." It takes me a moment to remember the name, but when I do, I tell her. "He only ever takes the bike. I don't think he owns a car. He's usually busy on weeknights, but sometimes I see him late. It's always at his house, though. We haven't gone out anywhere else again. I think…" I swallow hard. "I think he's keeping me quiet. I don't think he wants anyone else to know he's sleeping with someone so young."

Reyes nods slowly. I imagine most of what I just told her isn't anything new, especially if she's still watching him closely.

"You're not giving me enough," she says finally.

"I'm giving you what I have."

"You've been with him several nights for over a week." She leans forward slightly. "You've been in his house, his office. You should have more than this."

"Not things that help you."

"Let me decide what helps us." She studies my face, her eyes narrowing. "You're getting attached to him."

"I have to get close enough to make him trust me," I say evenly. "That's how this is supposed to work, right?"

"There's a difference between making someone trust you and⁠—"