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She exchanges Dean Winchester only for a cup of coffee handed off by Jasleen, the two women smiling awkwardly at each other.
“If someone has a secure computer, I can show you a few things I’ve compiled and the programs I’ve got running in my absence. I haven’t really had a chance to go in-depth with my search, considering the circumstances, but I’ve got a few people working on pulling information for me.”
“This is what you were doing on the dark web site,” Adam says. Softly enough, I almost miss his words but not the intent look he throws at me. “This is Darkling.”
“It took him much longer to put it together,” Aria says with a conspirator’s smile, pointing at me.
“Dev can be a little behind on those things.” Naomi keeps flicking her gaze to me, looking for something I’ll never know.
“Go on. It’s a waste of time to tease me,” I grumble.
Naomi barks out a laugh, settling on the couch with her legs crossed underneath her and a pillow clutched to her chest. “She’s got your number.”
“She does.”
She’s got more than my number.
“Someone knew where I would be yesterday,” I continue. “Unless there was a tracking device on Aria’s car, then we have to assume the intel came from our side.”
“We haven’t tested the car yet,” Jasleen admits.
“The gunman might have been aiming for Aria since she chose to defect,” Bill puts in. “Did anyone else know you’re planning on rolling over on the boss?”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s been a more recent development. And outside of Broderick, I’m…I’m not really close with anyone else. In fact, a lot of them hate my guts. They think I’m too ambitious for a woman in the biz.”
“That sort of thing tends to happen if you out-bark the big dogs. Especially if you were bringing in the amount of money you say you did,” I reassure her.
She hadn’t given us an exact number of the funds she procured for Broderick, but she gave enough information for us to put it together. As she does with everything.
“I’m just not sure what to do in order to bring the ax down with finality to keep Broderick from rising again.” She slaps her palms together for emphasis, her coffee on the table beside her. She’d taken to pacing back and forth in front of the wall of screens, her energy too volatile to be contained. I didn’t blame her.
But I wonder if she knows how well she commands the room. How she seamlessly manages to get two decorated detectives, a medical examiner, and the best IT guys at the EBPD to fall under her spell in a matter of minutes. She has to know what she does to me, the way I’m twisted in her hand already.
She’s an asset I’m not even sure Stevens will miss, and that’s going to be what ultimately brings him down.
Layla would be damn proud.
I’m doing this for her, of course. But also for Aria. For this precious flame taken out of one vulnerable situation and manipulated into another. For the kids like her on the street who will meet a face much worse than anything they’ve experienced so far if we don’t stop the Syndicate.
Aria’s our ticket to victory.
“We’ve got a secure line here. Of course, we do.” Bill scoffs, indignant. “This isn’t kiddie hour. Let me get you hooked up.”
He’s got enough laptops to make Apple drool and grabs one for Aria to use, his hands brushing against hers too long for my liking. No one else hears me grumble under my breath, but Aria’s attention darts to me regardless.
“I’ve had several of my guys in the chat room looking for avenues to track Broderick’s’ communications with his buyers, see if we can find the outlets he’s using and intercept messages,” she tells the room distractedly, her attention fixated on the screen. The dull blue glow illuminates half of her face and the sharp angles of her cheekbones. “Obviously, it’s almost impossible to break through his walls since I put them up myself. I made them almost impenetrable so no one would be able to follow his movements. Now I want to kick my own ass for doing it.”
“There’s always a hazard of being really good at your job.” Jasleen says it like she knows, which only draws another laugh from Naomi.
“You said it, sister.”
Somewhere along the line, the two of them settled whatever beef I’d first seen at the last murder. Thank fucking god for it, too. We don’t need any more drama.
NINETEEN
devan
Adam and Billhustle to hang over Aria’s shoulder while she runs through several programs, muttering to herself under her breath, only to have the latter hook up the computer to show her screen across several of the large monitors at their back. So that the rest of us can follow along.
