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"I don't know. The number is always blocked."
I gave him a disbelieving look. "You're a cop, and you're trying to tell me that didn't bother you? When this man is your friend?"
He smiled thinly and reeled off a number. "It's a Northern Territory number. Tyson's pack is in Queensland."
I glanced at Evin, who shook his head. "The number I phone is a Melbourne one."
"So we have Tyson in the Northern Territory and the people holding your mate hostage in Melbourne. Meaning Tyson's not alone in this."
"We all knew that from the beginning," Quinn commented. "Just as we all know who is behind this."
I glanced at him. "We can't move until we've rescued Evin's mate. And a little concrete proof would be nice, too." Certainly it'll make it easier for Jack to issue a retribution order.
Or a death order.
Something within me shivered. I really didn't want Blake dead, no matter what he'd done, but I might not have that choice anymore. I'd given him one chance already, and he'd thrown it back in my face.
And I had no doubt he'd keep at me until he achieved his aim: my death, and maybe even Rhoan's.
We had a pack of our own to consider - we had a child on the way. It went beyond my and Rhoan's safety now.
"We have two choices, then." Quinn's face was still impassive, but the sense of menace brewed like a storm around him. "We go after Tyson, or we hunt down those who have Evin's mate."
"If we go after Tyson, the game is up. Besides, such a move would only endanger Lyndal - Evin's mate," I said.
"Then we do a trace on the number Evin calls, and hit them before tomorrow night."
I raised an eyebrow. "Jack wants us to solve the other case first."
"You're not the only guardian he has, Riley. Blake - and whoever else is behind this - needs to be stopped immediately. Otherwise, next time they might just settle for an assassin's bullet."
And as he'd already said, Jack didn't want me dead.
I glanced at West. "Do you know if Tyson has any other spies in this town?"
West shook his head. "Not that I know of. Besides, it'd be overkill."
If it meant their plans for my eventual end ran smoothly, I had no doubt that both Tyson and Blake would employ as much overkill as they thought necessary.
"Then you need to keep playing the game. Report on time, and don't give anything away."
West didn't look happy, but I was betting he was smart enough to know he had little choice in the matter. "And if I do?"
"Then maybe you get to keep your job."
As I spoke, a sliver of energy spun through the air. West blinked and his eyes went briefly lifeless - although if you weren't watching him carefully, you wouldn't even have noticed it.
What did you do? I asked, without looking at Quinn.
Just applied a little insurance. He won't be able to warn Tyson even if he wanted to.
Good. I glanced at Harris. "I need to use your computer."
He nodded and rose, walking across to a desk in the far corner of the room. I followed him across, watching as he typed in his ID and had his iris scanned.
"Okay," he said, stepping back. "You're ready to go."
"Thanks." I sat in the chair and scooted forward. A few key taps, several passwords, and an iris scan later, I was into the Directorate's database. "What was that number again, Evin?"
