surprised just how much Carver knew, but Andrew wouldn’t have been. “You must have found these before.”
“I went through all his files after he died,” said Andrew. “That’s just a small sample.”
Colt frowned. “I don’t get it. Why—”
“I found that folder in Jason’s briefcase,” Andrew interrupted, stopping him cold. “It was in a hidden compartment.”
Colt swallowed hard, thinking back to the folder Jason had shown him that night. Back then, he’d thought Jason was just making a point and didn’t actually know what Colt was looking for. Was it the same file? If not, it was probably filled with evidence just as incriminating as the one he had in his hands now.
“How did he get access to this?” Colt demanded. "You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him.”
“I’m sorry, did you meet him yesterday?” Andrew asked with biting sarcasm. “Fort Knox couldn’t keep him out when he’s motivated to uncover something.”
Colt clenched his jaw in agitation, but he knew Andrew was right. He’d been afraid of this for years, but fearing and having it happen were two different things.
“Has he said anything to you?” Colt asked.
“No, which means he knows about us,” said Andrew.
Colt arched an eyebrow. “Sorry if I’ve been sending mixed signals, but I just don’t see you that way.”
“Oh, fuck off.” Andrew seemed about to say something else when his phone rang. Colt was about to get in a dig about him answering it when the other man’s face went ghostly pale at whatever the person on the other line had just said. “He what?”
“What?” Colt asked.
Andrew waved him off and stuck a finger in his other ear. “No, I didn’t—slow down, I didn’t authorize any press conference. He’s what?” Andrew went silent enough that Colt could hear the frenzied rambling of the man on the other end. Something about not knowing what to do with the press.
“I’ll be right there,” Andrew said in a gruff tone. “Don’t let him go out on that stage, and try to stall the press until I get there.”
He hung up, immediately rushing for the door. Colt followed him.
“What the fuck was that about?”
Andrew nearly collided with his secretary on his way out of the office, ignoring her confused questions. Once they were alone, he turned to Colt and said, “There’s a press conference downstairs that I didn’t authorize, and Jason is gone. You do the math.”
Colt’s heart thumped wildly against the wall of his chest. He knew what Andrew was getting at, but he wouldn’t even entertain the idea that it was possible. Not even after their last disastrous meeting.
And then he remembered the look in Jason’s eyes as he’d aimed that gun straight at Colt’s heart, and he wasn’t so sure about that anymore.
“You don’t think he’d actually—”
“I don’t know, but every fucking reporter in the city is in the conference room, along with a livestream that broadcasts to every TV in the state, so I’d say it’s not a risk we can afford to take,” he said, flinging open the stairwell door.
“Son of a bitch,” Colt hissed, running past him. He didn’t even know where the conference room was, but he figured he’d follow the people with the cameras. Sure enough, they were spilling out into the hallway.
Colt could hear Andrew not far behind him, but he didn’t stop. He brushed past the security guard stationed in front of the door and walked into the crowded room.
Andrew wasn’t exaggerating. There were no less than a hundred people in dress suits, talking animatedly amongst themselves. Colt overheard a few concerning snippets, including the word, “disclosure.”
When he saw Jason standing at the podium at the front of the room, he froze. He barely even recognized him as the same nervous college kid who’d struggled through his class presentations even though he’d spent all week rehearsing them. Instead, he was calm and collected with the air of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
And with one glance, there was no longer any doubt in Colt’s mind. What Jason was about to do was going to pull the pin out of the grenade and blow everything to hell.
Andrew was beside Colt, staring in the same disbelief. Colt grabbed his arm, lowering his voice since they were already packed into the room like sardines. “Stop him.”
“And how do you suggest I do that?” Andrew asked in a dry whisper.
“You’re the DA. Call security, pull the fucking mic. Do something or I’m gonna drag him off that fucking stage myself.”
Andrew