My Cruel Salvation (Fallen Saint # 3) - J. Kenner Page 0,61
saying Joseph Blackstone sent you an email?”
“Or someone pretending to be him. But this one didn’t have the pictures. It was text.”
“What does it say?” Devlin asks.
Lamar taps his phone again, then passes it to Devlin. I’m curious enough that I leave Brandy’s side to look over Devlin’s shoulder. It’s an email chain, and in it, Joseph Blackstone is messaging with his half-brother Christopher about the preparations for Anna’s revenge. Including a very specific mention of the plan to have Christopher run me over in the SUV in order to distract Devlin.
I look over Devlin’s head to Lamar. “There was nothing in any of Anna’s belongings or on any of her devices that suggested that this was happening. That Christopher had anything to do with it. Is it fake or did she not know?”
“Good question,” Lamar says.
Devlin passes the phone back to Lamar. “It sounds to me like either Christopher really did drive that SUV, or someone very much wants us to think he did.”
“Joseph Blackstone?”
Devlin nods. “Quite possibly.”
I almost screw up and blurt out that Blackstone’s dead. At least, I assume the team’s taken him out by now. Fortunately, I realize that Devlin’s playing it cool around Lamar and hold my tongue as Lamar frowns, then tugs on his chin, a sure sign he’s thinking. “He wants you focused on who tried to run Ellie down as opposed to who decided to tell the world about your father.”
“A solid theory,” Devlin tells Lamar. “If it’s true, it means that Blackstone’s running scared.”
“Hang on,” I say. “I want to see something.” I move to Lamar’s side and take the phone from him. This time I scroll through the email chain to the bottom. “There are other names on the first one,” I say. I recognize some from things Devlin has told me. M. Espinoza, R. Duarte, and several others. “They got taken off as the chain became about the attack on me. But they must be Blackstone’s people.”
“We’re working on tracking them down,” Lamar says, which doesn’t surprise me at all. My Watson is good at his job, after all.
“Can you forward all of that information to me?” Devlin asks, looking up from scrolling on his phone, presumably skimming texts from Ronan.
“Listen, obviously this is hot. I’m heading to the precinct.” He looks between the two of us. “Watch your backs. He’s not in his penthouse in the city. He might be at one of his other residences, and Chicago PD is going to check on that. But he could be heading here, too.”
Lamar’s focus shifts to me. “Stay with Devlin, Sherlock. You, too, Brandy. Stay safe. If Blackstone sent this email to turn the attention on Christopher, it might be that something’s about to go down with Blackstone that’s new. I want you all covered. You should get back to the house.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Devlin says. He extends his hand to Lamar, and to my relief, Lamar takes it easily. I’d been a little worried that he blames Devlin for Tracy’s death, even if subconsciously, and that easy handshake goes a long way toward alleviating that concern.
As soon as he’s out of the room, I want to ask all sorts of questions of Devlin, but I can’t because Brandy is there and she doesn’t know it all. We could pull her into the secret, but after the blow she’s had today, I really don’t think it’s the time to lay anything else on her.
Devlin must be thinking the same thing, because a moment later, there’s a quick tap on his door and Reggie enters without waiting for an invite.
I realize then that Devlin had texted her. “Could you stick with Ms. Bradshaw while she says her goodbyes, then take her home and stay with her? She’s had some bad news and I don’t want her alone.”
“Of course,” Reggie says.
“Reggie does some freelance security work for the foundation,” Devlin tells Brandy, which is more or less accurate. “She’ll stay with you until Ellie and I can make the rounds, say our farewells, and leave the party without any questions being raised.”
I almost point out that our escape for a quickie has taken longer than we’d intended. So there are already probably speculations and questions galore.
I say nothing, though. Just hug Brandy and promise we’ll be there soon.
As soon as she and Reggie are out the door, I toss back the rest of the Scotch. “I know we