Not even drug addicts like peeing in a lidless toilet.” After pointing out each of my objectives on Crombie’s photograph, I push it back to Phillipa’s side of the desk before taking a big breath.
In my eagerness to talk, my words aren’t as clear as I want. “If you came here hoping I’d help you pin a murder on an innocent man, you underestimated me. Even if I were still deaf, I still wouldn’t have been stupid enough to fall for your tricks.”
With my head held high, and my determination at a place I never thought it would be, I exit the room.
16
Brandon
I drag my hand down my tired face when Grayson says, “I told you this was way bigger than us. It’s as deep as it goes.” For the first time in almost a year, he’s standing across from me instead of tattling in my ear like he usually does.
We’re conducting our meeting in the shadows of a shady back alley, hiding out like we’re one of the many criminals we’ve put away the past seven-plus years. If we get caught with the files we have, we could very well end up behind bars with those men. They’re not just sealed, they are a matter of national security, and the proof I’ve been seeking the past almost seven years.
Mr. Gregg didn’t end things the way my father implied because of something hurtful Melody said. He was taken down by an organization the Bureau has been chasing for years. Because the hub of this entity is based on foreign soil, rumors are the Bureau had been working alongside the CIA to infiltrate it. As I’ve said before, I’m not a fan of rumors, but the information Grayson has shared with me the past hour is pretty damning.
I grip the file in my hand a little harder while asking, “Why is the CIA acting as if Liam’s death was an accident? Why not come clean and say he was taken out by an organization he was investigating?”
Grayson shrugs. “I don’t know. I figure that’s why Tobias did some investigating under the radar. There’s some murky shit going on here, Brandon.”
As I shift my eyes to the photograph of a man believed to be the third assailant in the Greggs’ home invasion, I ask, “Did Tobias have any leads on who killed this man?”
Grayson’s shrug isn’t as convincing this time around.
“Do you think his murder was payback for the Greggs’ ‘accident’?” I nudge my head to a photograph of a deceased body slumped in the gutter in a small town bordering Saugerties. When Grayson lifts his chin, I grind out, “That’s why Crombie broke into Melody’s dorm. He wanted to reinitiate their game of tit-for-tat. The only thing I can’t work out is why there was such a big gap between incidents.”
“They unearthed something no one knew previously.” When I peer at him in shocked silence, he adds, “No one knew Melody was deaf.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Grayson looks at me as if I’m an idiot. “Melody identified Henry Gottle, Sr. in the photo we showed her at the dress boutique. She mentioned she’d met him a handful of times before their home invasion. What if the men who organized the hit believed Melody had heard something she shouldn’t have? I don’t know about you, but if I discovered the only surviving witness to a massive conspiracy I was endeavoring to hide was deaf, I wouldn’t be overly worried about tying up loose ends.”
He has a point, but I still don’t like it. “Something about this feels off. Melody attended school for months before Crombie found her.”
“She attended school as Melody Gregg. I scoured over three decades of records seeking a home invasion or murder charge under that name when this case first popped up on Tobias’s radar. I didn’t find a single case with that surname attached to it.”
“They didn’t make that shit up, Grayson. I held Melody when she woke up screaming and drenched in sweat. You can’t fake that kind of fear. The pain in her eyes… fuck. It still kills me now.”
Grayson steps closer to me, his eyes comforting. “I’m not saying the home invasion didn’t happen. I’m saying it occurred under a different name. The name those men…” his eyes drop to the massive file he handed me nearly an hour ago, “… knew. Liam kept them off Wren and Melody’s scent for years, but somehow the thread unraveled.” He locks his eyes with