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Fletcher or Laura’s father. Marcus’s note comes back to me. He’s playing with us. One step ahead. He’s always one step ahead. Motherfucker!
“I didn’t know who Laura’s father was referring to. Not until last night.” Walsh continues. “I figured if Fletcher was related to you, so was Laura.” Jase says something but I can’t hear him over the ringing and slew of curses in my ears.
With my hands in fists, I raise them to the top of my head, closing my eyes and praying for calm. He’s bringing Laura into this.
Marcus brought Laura into it, and put her on Walsh’s radar.
I finally speak. “Marcus… he knew about the list and got to them first.”
“How did he know?” Jase’s question is accusatory and I sneer at him, “How the hell should I know?”
“Calm down,” Jase urges me, his dark eyes narrowing as he watches me. I want to pace; I want to throw something across this fucking room.
“He dragged Laura into this.” I can barely speak her name. I feel like a caged animal, ready to attack anything that comes near me.
“He brought you front and center.” Jase’s response is quick and again I catch a tone that I don’t care for.
“What does the note mean?” Walsh asks.
“I don’t know,” I answer Walsh harshly. With both of my hands on the bar, I inhale once, then look around us. The barstools have cleared, no one daring to come around us. When I look up, no one has the audacity to look at us, but I know they’re watching. Some of them are. Others are leaving as quickly as they can.
I turn my gaze back to Walsh, noting how he looks at me like I’m hiding something. “Both of them are dead. Laura’s father and Fletcher. They’re both dead and buried ten feet under.”
“Marcus must have known about the list and he got to them first,” Jase presumes and places a hand on my shoulder, urging me to stand back up. With the blood still rushing in my ears and my head spinning, I stand up straighter. “He killed his own men because they weren’t good enough to hide from us.”
I can’t fucking breathe in here. Loosening my tie, I hear Walsh tell Jase everything he did.
“Maybe surveillance on your computer?” Jase suggests after a series of back and forths.
“It doesn’t matter. The information is useless.”
“We gave you good intel. It’s not our problem if you fucked it up.”
“It actually is,” Walsh replies condescendingly. “We don’t have a deal until I say so. And this?” he says as he puts both of his hands up and then slowly shakes his head. “No deal.”
“What do you want?” I ask him, glancing at Jase whose face easily tells me what he wants. He wants to take that glass or maybe the bottle, any fucking thing he can get his hands on and smash it into Walsh’s skull. I bet that’s what’s playing through his mind right now. On repeat.
“I want Marcus.” Defeat colors Walsh’s tone and he drops his head into his hands, putting both his elbows on the bar.
“Get him another drink,” I order and Anthony’s quick to reply, “Yes, sir” at the same time Walsh says, “No.”
“We have information at least,” Jase says beneath his breath and then nods his head at Walsh. “His computer’s being watched.”
“Potential information,” I correct him. “There’s no way to know how and when Marcus got that list.”
“What’s that?” Walsh asks. The second he does, the glass of vodka hits the bar and Walsh shoves it to the side.
I take it. Still feeling the rage of adrenaline coursing through me, I throw back the shot and then tell Anthony, “Another.”
I can’t get the thoughts of Laura out of my head. Marcus is shoving her right in the middle. He gave her over to Walsh. He’s going to know about her connection with Delilah. He will soon if he doesn’t already. It’s fucked. Everything is fucked.
“We’ll look into what we can give you,” I answer Walsh and before he can respond, the shot hits the bar and I down it, hissing from the heat that rolls down the back of my throat and spreads through my chest.
“What can you give me?” Walsh’s anger gets the best of him. “Don’t forget what I have on you,” he warns.
“Don’t forget we’ve both gotten away with worse,” I grit back. “We’re helping you find him, against our better judgment. Be grateful for that.”
Jase only observes and then orders two more shots from Anthony. “Unless you want to take us up on that free drink,” he offers Walsh.
The officer is silent as Jase takes a shot with me. And then orders two more. My head feels faint with the alcohol hitting me, but my mind still races and whatever I do, I can’t tame the anger.
