“What if I report back that there’s no lead here to follow? The old these-aren’t-the-droids-you’re-looking-for ploy.”
“Would he buy it?” Steele asked.
“Probably.” She nibbled a lip. “But he’d be more likely to buy it if I came up with another story. Something close, but different enough to throw him off the scent… A hard-ass ex-military biker club in South Dallas riding to cure breast cancer.”
Sterling barked a laugh.
“How do we erase that photo?” Steele muttered, glaring at it as though he could make it go away. “Who knows how many factions it’s been spread around to?”
“That part is easy,” she answered. “You hack into the Dallas PD server and plant a report about two bikers killed in a freak accident, with photos that resemble these two. It’ll get picked up by the news media and there’s your cover. No doubt the guys hunting you will assume someone else got you first.”
“She’s devious,” Ant said. “I like her.”
She had no idea why Sterling glared at him.
“Why would you help us?” Steele’s question was harsh but held an undertone of optimism.
“To fuck Marcus over?” To strike back at the Santirios Cartel?
“Why?” Sterling asked in a dispassionate tone.
Roni fixed him with a steady stare. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Besides… If you are a high-level black-ops team, I have no doubt you can help me get what I want.”
The room went quiet. Just as she expected it would.
Steele steepled his fingers. “And…what is it you want?”
Roni sucked in a deep breath. “I want my sister back. I want full custody.”
“And if we help you get your sister back, you’ll help us?”
“In a fucking heartbeat.”
Steele studied her for a moment then glanced up at a camera in the corner. Then he nodded and stood. “I’ll be right back.” He gestured to the others, who followed him as he left the room. All but Sterling. He stopped beside Roni on his way out the door.
“Are you serious? About helping us?” he asked softly, though why he bothered to whisper was a mystery. She knew they were listening.
She nodded. It wasn’t just self-preservation driving her—the fact that they couldn’t let her leave because she knew too much. The prospect of getting back at Marcus was too tempting to resist. And paying the cartel back for what they’d done? It made her salivate. But more than that. If anyone could help her get Annabelle back, it was these guys. She just knew it.
* * *
“Well?” Chrome crossed his arms and leaned against the desk. “What do you think, Sterling? Is she telling the truth? Is she really willing to turn on Morrow?”
He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What does your gut tell you?” Steele asked.
“My gut says she’s on the level.”
“Mine too,” Ant said. “In that slew of emails you woke me up to read in the middle of the night—and thank you very much for that—were a bunch from her asking about Annabelle.” His lashes flickered. “Begging, really.”
Chrome frowned. “Any intel on the sister?”
“Shit, yeah. That was the easy part. It was all over the news. She was injured in the car accident that killed her mother. Apparently Roni, her mom and her sister were in a car driving on Mulholland Drive in the Hollywood hills. Real wind-y, Mulholland. Anyway, another car came out of nowhere and ran them off the road. Off a cliff, really. A bystander caught the whole thing on video.” He opened his laptop and tapped for a minute, then turned it around so they could all watch. It was a horrifying scene, shaky and overlaid by the gasps and cries of the person holding the camera. “According to the deposition, the witnesses were driving behind a Mustang, which was following a Mercedes. They started filming when the driver of the Mustang began moving erratically.”
Sterling gaped at the screen, a dark abyss opening up in his soul. Roni had been in that car? Fury and panic pummeled him as he watched the Mustang slam into the Mercedes, then rev up and sideswipe it. When the Mercedes careened over the cliff, it felt like a part of him died.
“Wait,” Steele barked. “Back it up.”
Back it up? He didn’t want to see that footage ever again.
Ant did as he was asked.
“Okay. Freeze it.” Steele leaned closer. “Isn’t that odd?”
“What?” Sterling had to ask, but the word was choked.
Steele touched the screen. “Why is the license plate blurred out?”
Ant shrugged. “Standard SOP when videos are released.