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“In the early days, I believe Gregory’s actions were fueled by revenge for losing his brother; his association with Vanessa tainted him.”
“Still doesn’t excuse his behavior,” he bluntly states.
Squeezing his hand, I express that it wasn’t my intention for him to think I was condoning Gregory’s actions. To evaluate him, I needed to factor in all the information given to me, and I believe he wouldn’t have followed through on his revenge if it were him acting alone.
“So, you believe she manipulated him?”
“Yes,” I confirm. “After learning of his brother's fate, Vanessa put him in contact with the one person who could help him, Alejandro.”
Just the mere mention of Alejandro’s name causes Hawke to tense. The pain he has suffered at that man's hands is indescribable, and I honestly do not know how he hasn’t allowed it to consume him.
“And now his life is in danger?
So direct and to the point.
“Yes, but there’s something else far more troubling,” I tell him.
Urging me to continue, Hawke sits in silence as I relay the intel Gregory gave us concerning a possible leak within the CIA. When Antony questioned him about the murdered undercover agent, Gregory hinted that the agency had a mole, and he had heard that Antony’s son Sean was closing in on the mole, which had put his life in danger.
“I know who the mole is,” Hawke interrupts.
“You do?” my surprised voice queries. “Who is it?”
“Patrick Miller,” his quiet voice declares.
And just like that, the puzzle pieces start to click together. It all makes sense now why Patrick had been riding my ass, so to speak, about getting as much information from Gregory as I could. He needed to know exactly what Gregory knew, which is probably why his life is now in danger.
“Where has Gregory been moved to?” His voice disrupts my thoughts.
“I’m not sure, but Antony will know.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY
Hawke
“I can see the look in your eye, Hawke; you are up to something,” Em’s tired voice proclaims.
“I am.” I smile. “I’m taking you to the bedroom so you can rest. You look exhausted, darling, and we have dinner reservations with Sumner and Tatum at seven.”
Groaning, which has become a common trait of Emily’s lately, she reluctantly agrees and follows me to the bedroom. At least she can’t complain that she has nothing to wear because yesterday she dragged me to every maternity store she could find.
“Are you not staying with me?” she whines childishly.
“No, sweetheart.” I laugh. “I’m going to make contact with Antony and share the intel I received from Earl.”
Grunting that I’m no fun, Em lies on the bed and turns onto her side. Of late, it’s been the only way she can rest comfortably. The soft sounds of her snoring make me smile, confirming my theory that she’s exhausted. Em may refuse to admit that she needs to rest more, yet it’s obvious to everyone around her.
Closing the door softly, I leave my sleeping beauty so I can call Ant. I need to warn him about Patrick.
“Hawke, how did your meeting with Earl go?” Ant answers my call quickly.
“Meeting went well, but the intel he shared is shocking, Ant.”
“How so?” he questions.
Starting from the beginning, I inform Ant of Patrick’s involvement in the El Mazir case. He is the one piece of that puzzle we could never connect until now. With Earl's intel, little things that have occurred over the past five years make a hell of a lot more sense. Patrick may have believed he was covering his tracks well, but in hindsight, he’d left clues right under our noses. Unfortunately, it was as though we were wearing blinders as we never paid enough attention to them.
“Earl shared some other news as well,” I say.
