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“I’ll be careful,” Brook murmured as she bumped his shoulder with hers. “I always am. Besides, you’ll now be able to give everyone a burner phone with a number programmed in it so that the team can reach me. Bit can then trace my location from a clean source.”
Graham shot her a sideways look that expressed his doubts about her theory about their old devices. He was probably right, and their phones, tablets, and laptops were clean, but she wasn’t willing to take that chance. They had no idea if there were others involved, and Bit’s precautionary ways had influenced her way of thinking. Any hint that they were closing in on Lorena would have her miles away before nightfall.
“Bit finally discovered how Jacob knew about Sylvie’s attack.” Graham shifted so that he was facing her with his hip on the desk. “During Jacob’s one-hour reprieve when he’s allowed in the prison yard, he was escorted past a couple of guards. One of those guards happened to make an off-the-cuff remark regarding the stabbing of one of S&E Investigations’ employees. Jacob must have put two and two together. The theory that we’ve come up with is that Jacob gave Lorena the go-ahead to kill in his signature after obtaining information regarding Sarah Evanston’s location. Your brother had no idea that Lorena had acted prematurely.”
The speculation surrounding Jacob’s ability to gain that type of information sounded about right. Unfortunately, there was only so much containment one could count on in that situation. With that thought in mind, Brook was relieved to know that their safeguards regarding Jacob hadn’t been compromised in a different manner.
“I need to ask,” Brook said as she rested her hand over his. “Was Jonah Cary brought up in the discussion?”
“No.”
Brook was able to breathe a little easier.
Jonah Cary was her nephew.
Not that the boy would ever know his connection to the infamous serial killer named Jacob Matthew Walsh. Jonah would always be known as Senator Cary’s son, the one who suffered from Alagille syndrome. The genetic disorder was the reason the little boy needed a liver transplant.
Before Lorena Dobbs had entered the picture, Brook’s one goal had been to make sure Jacob wasn’t a living donor. She had been successful in the endeavor, and the surgery was scheduled to take place two weeks from Monday. A lot had to happen between now and then, but the top priority was to ensure Jacob didn’t find out until after the fact.
“Are you planning on wearing my robe while you canvass the vacant properties?” Graham reached out and ran a hand underneath the grey lapel. “I’m certain that would garner you some unwanted attention.”
“I took the time to wash my pantsuit on the delicate cycle of that washer of yours. It’s almost as complicated as the office’s coffee machine.” Brook waited for Graham to say something about his previous offer for her to keep some of her clothes at his place. She hadn’t turned him down, but she also hadn’t followed through on the suggestion. “Remind me after we apprehend Lorena Dobbs to bring over a couple of my suits to hang in your closet.”
Graham’s eyes darkened to the color of his favorite whiskey. At any other time, such a reaction would have been a nonverbal invitation. Instead, he leaned forward and gently brushed his warm lips against hers in parting.
“I better go,” Graham murmured as he stood to his full height. He still held her empty mug, and she didn’t doubt that he would store it inside the dishwasher before he left. He had handled the mess that she had made of his private office really well under the circumstances. While she didn’t like clutter either, there was a disorganized method to her process. “Stay safe, Brooklyn.”
Brook almost called out to Graham right before he disappeared from view, but she bit her lip to prevent the words from escaping her lips. She longed to see for herself that Sylvie was recovering from her injuries, but the burner phones that she had purchased didn’t allow for video calls. The only choice was to trust that Bit would remain by Sylvie’s side while everyone else made certain that Lorena Dobbs was forced into a corner that she couldn’t escape.
Brook couldn’t help but acknowledge the irony that the trust she had struggled to place in others was the very foundation keeping their friendships and lives from falling apart.
Chapter Sixteen
Sylvie Deering
February 2024
Sunday — 9:02 am
The private hospital room on the third floor was a far cry from the chaotic intensity of the ICU five floors up. The constant beeping and humming of machines had been replaced with a quiet stillness that was both comforting and aggravating, each for different reasons. Being transferred from the ICU meant that Sylvie would make a full recovery, but every cell in her body wanted to be helping her friends and colleagues track down Lorena Dobbs.
At least, such was the case when those cells were hyped up on pain medication. She had been given the ability to administer such relief through her IV line on an as-needed basis. There was only one problem with such a choice—she couldn’t connect more than two thoughts together at a time.
Lorena had spent two months making small talk about her love of true crime, and how fascinated she was with Sylvie’s life as a former analyst turned consultant for the same agency. Brook and her relationship with Jacob Walsh had been brought up several times, though Sylvie had always been inherently cautious on the subject. She couldn’t recall saying a thing that could have compromised them in any way.
But what if she had let something slip?
“Don’t be stubborn, Little T,” Bit said from the chair next to her bed. He never once looked up from his laptop. “Press the button.”
“No.” Sylvie wouldn’t admit that her body ached with each breath. She needed a clear head, and the morphine clouded her thoughts. She would eventually cave, but she didn’t want to miss any detail of what Graham had to say regarding the investigation. “Are you finished checking for viruses and spyware?”
“If I say yes, will you press that button?”
Sylvie didn’t even want to move her head for fear of initiating what resembled piercing pain a thousand times worse than a paper cut. In response, she lifted her left hand and flipped him off.
“I saw that,” Bit muttered as he never took his focus off his screen. “Are everyone’s phones off?”
Graham was currently standing at the end of Sylvie’s bed, and Theo had stationed himself to the right of her. Both had remained quiet while Bit commenced a program on all four of his laptops to ensure that no one had accessed a backdoor of some sort. The rest of them sometimes tuned him out when he went on and on about technical jargon. That type of language went way above their heads.
