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“Not yet,” Taylor answers.
But he will. I know he will. He always does.
“You do realize you’re breaking the rules here, don’t you?” he asks me without taking his eyes off the screen of his laptop. His fingers tap the keys almost hysterically.
I take a sip of my coffee. “What rules?”
“For one, the one that says you’re not supposed to be doing any investigating while you’re suspended,” Taylor answers.
“It’s not like I’m doing a federal investigation,” I tell him. “I’m just doing some amateur sleuthing for personal reasons. It’s like a pet project.”
“Using federal resources,” Taylor points out.
I look at him. “You mean you.”
He glances at me. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.”
I frown because I know I’ve offended him. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’ve been called worse.”
That just makes me sad, because he doesn’t deserve to be called names. No one does.
I set my cup of coffee down on the bedside table. Now that it isn’t hot, it doesn’t taste good anymore.
“And I’m sorry for getting you into trouble again.” I place my hand over Taylor’s. “I haven’t even thanked you yet for what you did for me last time. You helped me get all that information about Bruno Zane, and then when I got into trouble you called the police for me. You even set those animals free to buy me some time to escape, didn’t you?”
Taylor shrugs. “It’s their fault the locks of the cages were computerized. Also, the controls for them were right next to the ones for the cameras.”
I arch an eyebrow. “You disabled the cameras?”
He gives me a puzzled look. “You didn’t know?”
I shake my head. I wish I had, though. I would have been able to go faster.
“Wow.” I place my hands on top of my head as I lie down on the bed. “You really are a genius.”
“Which is why you don’t have to worry about me.”
He puts his laptop on the bed and then lies down beside me but in a prone position so he can prop his arms on his elbows and still type.
“You worry about yourself.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him.
He glances at me. “Sure you’re not going crazy? Because you were making faces at the mirror.”
“I was not,” I protest.
Was I?
Taylor chuckles. “Anyway, you looked cute.”
I snort.
“And you seem happy. I’m glad. I thought you’d be pissed after reaching a dead end.”
“I was,” I admit.
“But?”
I had sex.
“I realized there was no point in getting pissed,” I tell him. “A dead end isn’t an end. It just means you have to retrace your steps.”
Taylor nods. “Wow. I may be a genius, but you’re turning into a sage.”
I grab a pillow and hit him with it playfully. “Shut up.”
“Ow,” he complains.
I chuckle as I hug the pillow to my chest.
He continues typing. “Also, I’m glad you’re not bummed about your brother.”
I give him a puzzled look. “What about my brother?”
He gives me the same look. “You don’t know?”
I shake my head. “Tell me.”
“There’s this woman who’s saying stuff about Grae.”
“What stuff?”
“Sexual assault.”
I frown. “That’s nothing new, though. Every now and then a woman comes along and tries to drag Grae’s name through the dirt, whether it’s because she’s bitter or because she wants money or just attention. They’re usually backed by a man with darker motives.”
“Ah.”
“None of them have succeeded, though. None of them will. Grae would never use or abuse a woman. He’s… too fond of them.”
Come to think of it, if there’s anyone I could talk to about sex, it would be him. But then again, no. That would be so weird.
Why couldn’t I have had at least one elder sister?
“So you don’t want me to take those articles down?” Taylor asks me. “Because I can, you know. And it wouldn’t be a violation of anything.”
I know he can.
“Nah. Grae can fight his own battles.” One hundred percent. “Just do what I asked.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
For the next few minutes, the only thing that fills the silence in the room is the tapping of computer keys. There’s something about the sound that makes me feel sleepy. I’m about to fall asleep, in fact – no thanks to the fact that I didn’t drink my coffee – when Taylor speaks.
“I think I found something.”
At once, my eyes fly open. I lie down on my stomach, trapping my pillow between my body and the bed, so I can look at his screen.
“What is it?”
“I was able to recover some of Sergio Bianchi’s old financial records,” Taylor says.
“And?”
“He used to spend a lot of money at a club in Toledo. Maybe he still does.”
A club? I guess the best place to find a viper is in a pit of vipers.
“I’ll find out,” I tell Taylor. “Just give me the address.”
He looks at me. “You’re not going there alone, are you? If you need a companion…”
