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I frowned. A prickle of awareness skipped up my spine. "Okay." And then he showed me a photo of Jennings Tate. He was talking to none other than Oversight’s Gennifer Goode. And lo and behold, the photo was time-stamped. "This was three months ago. Jesus Christ. Before we were sent on the mission to the gala."
He nodded.
"And before she assigned me to this."
"Yes."
"So she knows Tate."
Gabe nodded. "It does look that way."
"She’s never allowed herself to be photographed."
"Exactly. Which means, she didn't know there was a camera there. Right now, we are in a world of shit, and we need to catch up quickly."
"I know." I wanted to draw my hands through my hair, but all I could do was lightly press at my temples with my knuckles. "Gabe, I'm worried. And there’s something else you need to know. My sister Kira… I don't know where she is. I need to know what's going on with her as well."
"I’d already figured that out after your quick trip home. I'm sending Devlin and Kaya down there. They'll keep up the search while we try and figure this out. There is something else you should know."
"Oh yeah? Is the news going to get any better?"
"No, it's not. A phone call was placed to your sister the day she disappeared. It was the same phone number that had called her regularly several weeks ago. The conversations always lasted for thirty minutes or so, but the one on that day was just a couple of minutes."
"Who's calling her?"
He shrugged. "Let's just say the phone tracks to a burner that's in one of our routers."
My breath caught, and my gaze bore into his. "Jesus Christ, Gabe, just how much shit are we in?"
"A lot. And right now, I'm still not certain how to resolve it. I want answers and payment in blood. Gennifer Goode deliberately put you in danger, and I'm going to make her pay for it."
23
Tabatha
Gabe had finally agreed to take me back to my new temporary flat, and I immediately passed out from the overwhelming exhaustion of it all.
I'd managed a shower this morning, but the lotion and other things were not going to happen. Getting my knickers on had been all I could manage. My hands were still too raw, too painful.
Christ, I needed Kaya or Saff, but the only assistance I had available was Gabe next door. I could not ask him for help.
However, as I stared at my clothes laid out on my bed, I knew that I was due to meet Tate in a couple of hours, and I couldn't wait. I needed help. Hugging my towel to me, I went into the wardrobe and knocked on our hidden door.
It was open in seconds. Gabe stood there, frowning at me in a towel. "You're not dressed? I wanted to go over the plan before—" He stopped talking when he caught the distress on my face. "What's the matter?"
"I can't get dressed. Just the shower alone was so sensitive on my palms, and I need help getting dressed."
His eyes went wide. "Um, I can get Kaya here."
"There isn't time. Like you said, I need to get dressed and we need to prep. And then I need to get into the office first before even meeting with him."
He swallowed hard. "I'll see if I can get a female agent here."
"Gabe, I'm not shy. I fucking need your help."
I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed and his gaze stayed resolutely on my face. "Fine. What do you need?"
"Well, I need lotion, for starters. And then I need product on my hair, and I need it to be pinned up. Something simple. We'll do a quick bun. And I’ll need help with the stupid shirt the idiot complimented. It has a million tiny buttons."
