my thoughts but not from my misery. Guilt and heartache swirled together, making my chest hurt.
I had to make a decision—was revenge worth putting my friends in further danger? The answer was no but I worried I’d already done that. Kyle would be furious. So would Ace. Phantom would be off-the-charts gonzo.
Shit.
I messed up huge.
Why couldn’t I have just left it alone? Kalee was doing great. Piper was married with four kids. Anaya had found the love of her life and together they’d created the cutest little girl. All three of them had moved on.
Why couldn’t I?
“Slow,” he muttered and placed his hand on my shoulder.
And when his fingers curled in and he gave me a gentle squeeze I felt the same inexplicable reaction. It was like his touch was a conduit of electricity but not the kind that zinged you. No, it was a flow of energy that warmed and calmed.
Okay. What the hell?
“I messed up,” I whispered.
“We can fix whatever it is you think you messed up. But I need you to tell us everything.”
Everything would take a long time.
So I started with the facts.
“I found it curious that the rebel attack just happened to be at the very location that Abrams wanted to lease. I knew Prime Minister Akito Ximenes wanted the deal to go through so I started looking into him. I found a large bank transfer. I followed that to a bank in Tel Aviv. A hundred thousand went into Akito’s account and a few days later ten thousand went out. Needless to say, ten grand is a lot of money in Timor-Leste—a hundred thousand would allow Akito to live like a king.”
“Abrams is an Israeli corporation,” Zane grunted.
“And the day after that ten thousand was transferred the attack on the village happened,” I finished.
“Where’d the money go to?” the guy I think was named Owen asked.
“I couldn’t find information on the account holder’s name. But the bank is in Dili.”
“And the pictures?” Gabe asked. “Those were all emailed to you?”
“Yes.”
Damn, this was going to piss Kyle off.
“All of the emails were threatening me. But the last one with the picture of Kalee in the…” I trailed off, unable to utter the words mass grave. “Well, that email threatened all of us.”
“Are you telling me someone threatened my wife?” Kyle thundered and I flinched.
“Yes. And that was when I stopped. I swear, Kyle, I never thought—”
Kyle’s temper flared and he shouted, “No, Evette, you didn’t fucking think!”
I expected him to be pissed but his anger still sliced deep. And when he stalked out of the room leaving me with a bunch of strangers I was worried he wouldn’t come back.
Damn.
A new man entered the room, though he wasn’t watching where he was going; his head was turned and his eyes were on Kyle.
“Who pissed in his—” The newcomer froze in the doorway, his gaze narrowed on the big screen, and he muttered, “Fuck.”
“’Bout sums it up. To bring you up to speed, Evette here has been looking into Timor-Leste and Kalee Solberg,” Zane explained, then went on. “Evette, this is Garrett. He’s going to analyze the files on the thumb drive. I don’t suppose you have anything else helpful hidden in that bag of yours?”
I fought rolling my eyes but welcomed Zane’s stupid question. What did he think I was hiding in a bag that barely had enough room to hold my now-empty wallet and tossed-out cell? I was going to miss that phone, it was the latest and greatest tech gadget and it’d cost me a damn fortune. Thankfully, it was backed up but my bank account would take one hell of a hit replacing it.
“Babe?” Gabe’s smooth voice once again pulled me from my thoughts.
Unfortunately, I stopped thinking about expensive cell phones and started thinking about how much I liked him calling me babe. I’d had boyfriends call me baby, one had even called me snookums which creeped me the hell out. Thankfully, he didn’t last very long—and yes, calling me snookums was my motivating factor for breaking up with him. That and the dude had a serious OCD about clean floors. Like, take your shoes off outside—which is cool I get that—but if I’d been wearing flip-flops or shoes with no socks he’d made me put on nylon footies. And, yes, he had a box of disposable nylons like a department store so “foot sweat” didn’t get on his floor.