from the beginning. After all, he needs the practice.
“He didn’t want to give him up,” Ruby said. “I think it’s funny to watch all these big men melt when they hold a baby.”
She’d summed it up. Our world was changing for the better. Our family had grown and was growing.
“You won’t believe who called to congratulate us,” Madeline said, reaching for the mug of coffee.
My eyebrows rose as I considered the possibilities. “Someone from Detroit?”
She shook her head. “Mrs. Sparrow.”
“Oh, I’m assuming you don’t mean Araneae.”
Madeline’s lips formed a straight line and cheeks rose as she suppressed the grin. “You would be right. After I got over my shock, I decided it was a move in the right direction.”
“The best direction to go.”
Ruby had her phone in her grasp when her countenance changed. “Oh shit.”
“Ruby,” her mother scolded.
“What is it?” I asked.
“There’s a breaking article that says the FBI is raiding Sparrow Enterprises.”
“What?” we both replied.
“It says that they’re following up on an anonymous tip regarding tax evasion.” Concern showed in her blue eyes. “What does that mean? Will Uncle Sterling go to jail?”
“It means nothing,” I said with all the confidence I could muster. “Your uncle prides himself on his abilities to outdo his father. I will put money on the fact that Sparrow Enterprises is as squeaky clean as it could possibly be. Sparrow Enterprises and the Sparrow Institute are completely legitimate. The FBI can look, but they won’t find anything.”
Ruby was back looking at her phone. “Yeah, it says here that via his personal assistant, Mr. Sterling Sparrow has issued a statement denying any wrongdoing and welcomes the FBI’s efforts to thwart this attempt to delegitimize his name and company.”
“Don’t worry, Edward,” I said, looking again at the beautiful boy in my arms. “Everything will be waiting for you one day. In the meantime, rest, eat, and grow.”
“You forgot poop,” Ruby added.
“That’s what babies do.”
The phone in my back pocket vibrated. Holding Edward against me, I reached for it and swiped the screen. It was a text from Reid. After reading it, I looked at the women on the other sofa. “Reid said their meeting went well, and they’re on their way home.”
“Did he mention the news article?”
My nose wrinkled. “He didn’t, but if the media has a statement from Sparrow, I’d assume they’re aware. Let’s take one victory at a time.” I looked down and up. “No, we have more than one victory. We have all of us here. You, Ruby, are safe. This little guy is healthy, and so are you, Madeline, and the men had a good meeting. We have a lot of victories.”
Reid
“Where’s Sparrow?” Patrick asked as Mason and I entered the command center.
Mason shook his head as he peeled away his suit coat and hung it on the hooks. His tie was already MIA. I believed he’d placed it in the pocket of his suit jacket as soon as we boarded the plane. Looking up, he replied to Patrick, “At Sparrow Enterprises.”
“He has nothing to worry about,” Patrick stated calmly. Or maybe the adverb was tiredly, the jury was out. “Sparrow Enterprises’ books are clean. Sparrow is obsessive and has a team dedicated to this kind of shit. I just finished taking a broad overview at the last seven years and like I said, nothing sends a red flag. This is just another jab. In theory, these probes and raids aren’t unexpected; it just seems like right now we’re getting fucked from all directions.”
“It’s her,” Mason said, walking closer to the computers. “Top confirmed Stephanie Moore, a.k.a. Morehead, didn’t die. Lorna remembered a blonde with a burnt hand in the bunker.” He tipped his head back as he entwined his fingers at the nape of his neck and stretched. “Oh shit.” He looked at me. “Didn’t Zella say something about a blonde woman wearing gloves?”
“That’s what Araneae said too,” Patrick added. “She recalled a petite blonde who seemed in charge. Araneae said it was weird that she wore a glove. Only one, you know, like Michael Jackson without the dancing.”
Mason went to his workstation and began typing. It took a minute or two for him to jump through the needed hoops, blast past the firewalls, avoid a few snares, and land himself within the dark web. Once he was there, he accessed the message Walters sent after our meeting.
“What’s with the five million?” Patrick asked.
I nodded. “If you’re talking about the donation to Senator Jackson, the answer is it was a promise