probably where we went wrong. We’re not looking at all the players. We’re trying to sway the stack by knocking out the bottom prongs with the hope it’ll have the hierarchies falling, but what if the answers we are seeking are from someone not in the stack?”
He scrubs at his jaw, a telltale sign he isn’t one-hundred percent on board with my plan. “We could be wasting resources.”
“Or…” I pause in a manner Joey would be proud of. “We just found the loose thread. You’ve had so much hassle tracking Kirill because he never leaves a stone unturned. This photo proves the Petrettis and the Bobrovs knew each other. That means Kirill forgot about Col.” I choke out a laugh. “He’s not the most stable right now. A good push could have him crumbling. Are you really willing to bypass that for an hour or two of your time?”
Forever willing to push the boundaries when it comes to Katie’s case, Grayson discloses, “I’ll send one of my guys on the next available flight.”
Somewhere between highlighting payments Col made to associations not in the United States over two decades ago to CJ Petretti’s current whereabouts, I nodded off. Don’t ask me exactly how long I’ve been sleeping, or why my cheek is more bruised than my ass as I won’t be able to give you an honest answer. The thump in my head reveals I could do with another six or so hours of sleep, but the snatch of a file from beneath my cheek steals the chance.
As I rub the sleep from my eyes, Isabelle asks, “How many years ago was Col Petretti’s son admitted to the hospital?” Her rumpled clothes expose she woke not long before me, and we won’t mention the red ink mark on her cheek, or you’ll be looking at her as if she’s homeless like I am.
When she peers at me with wide, please-answer-me eyes, I mumble, “Umm, around six, seven years ago.” I’m a little lost to where she’s going with this. CJ’s admittance could signify the commencement of him getting his life on the straight and narrow, but it has no link with Isaac, does it?
With CJ’s hospital record in her hand, Isabelle moves for the stack of bank records she was working on before she dozed off. Her highlights correspond with the case we’re meant to be investigating, not the one I’m hosting under the radar.
“Look.” She thrusts the documents my way. “Isaac’s hefty Monday morning cash deposits during his first two years at college ceased the weekend Col’s son was admitted to the hospital. CJ’s medical report indicates he was extensively covered in bruises, and he sustained multiple broken bones and fractures. Isaac was a fighter in the underground fight ring, just like his fighter, Jacob, is now. I’d put money on it that Isaac and CJ fought that weekend—”
My eyes lift from CJ’s hospital records when Isabelle suddenly stops talking. I discover the reason for her gasping response when I spot Alex standing just inside the conference room door. Has he been here the entire time? Or did I miss something in my half-asleep state?
“How do you know Isaac was a fighter?” Alex asks Isabelle, stepping deeper into the room.
“Umm… I’m just assuming.” Her chest rises and falls in rhythm to mine as she stammers out additional details. “It doesn’t seem like an industry you’d get into unless you had some prior knowledge about it.”
I watch Alex with unscrupulous eyes when he says, “Your investigative skills are starting to flourish, Isabelle. I’m very pleased with your dedication of late.” He never gives a compliment, not even when it’s earned, so there’s something more going on here than he’s exposing. I guarantee it.
I take a mental note to remind Grayson of our agreement to keep things between us when Alex discloses, “We recently discovered Isaac was indeed a fighter in an underground fighting ring during his years at college. That fighting ring’s organizer was Col Petretti.”
“Ah, hold on,” I interrupt, more than happy to reveal to Alex that he’s working on half-facts instead of full truths. “CJ’s injuries weren’t from a fight. That weekend he was involved in a car accident with his sister, Ophelia.”
“What?” Isabelle blubbers out, her tone high.
I pass her the documents she handed me only minutes ago. “CJ and his younger sister, Ophelia, were involved in a fatal car accident six years ago.”
Her hands shake as she speed-reads the hospital record that reveals CJ’s injuries were extensive,