My Cruel Salvation (Fallen Saint # 3) - J. Kenner Page 0,88

Manuel Espinoza, Aurelia’s little brother. Carlos Garcia, who’d been a huge bully as a kid, then grown into an even bigger one. He’d worked security for The Wolf at sixteen, the youngest to ever do that, but the kid had mad skills and the kind of chip on his shoulder that The Wolf considered loyalty. On and on the list went, so many names. So many memories. So many goddamn possibilities.

And no way to know if any of them had arranged the bomb. No way to even know if he was barking up the right tree. Not until they tracked one of the men down and brought them in for interrogation.

One of them knew something—they had to.

And if they didn’t? Well, then Devlin and the team went back to square one. Until then, he was staying optimistic.

Since Blackstone’s base was in Chicago, Penn and Claire were at the frontline of the operation. So far, though, they hadn’t reported in with any good news, and Devlin feared this would be a long operation rather than the quick jump to a resolution that he’d hoped.

In addition to coordinating with the team, he’d been dealing with calls from the insurance company about the fire, from the press about the explosion and the revelation about his father, and more calls from foundation backers either offering support or seeking further reassurance even after his press conference. Not to mention calls about Brandy’s story and Devlin’s supposed heroism in taking Walt down a peg.

Tamra, thank goodness, was handling everything at the foundation, but Devlin knew he needed to be there. One more day, and then he would go in. He needed to make sure everything was safe here first. Lamar had arranged for the police to watch the house, but he wanted more of his own team here, and he’d recalled several from stagnant operations to come to Laguna Cortez until things calmed down.

Of course, the thing he wanted most of all was to simply curl up next to El and sleep. As a rule, he wasn’t one for escaping reality, but right then he was bone tired, and he knew he wasn’t thinking clearly. There’d been too much thrown at him all at once. Too much shit to go through, too many questions that remained to be answered.

Hell, maybe he needed a nap. Maybe that would clear his head. Maybe—

The sharp ring of his phone pulled him out of his thoughts. It was Lamar, and Devlin answered the call with a quick, “Hang on.”

His phone had also indicated that Ronan had pulled up, and he texted his friend the new alarm code, which they had started to change every two hours, so that he could enter the house.

“OK,” he said to Lamar. “Sorry about that. Go ahead.”

“We got some good news after Brandy’s video,” Lamar said. Devlin knew that the detective hadn’t been pleased to learn that Brandy had done that without letting him know. But he’d said he understood why, and he only wished that he’d known so he could have been around to support her when the thing went live.

“What’s going on?” Devlin asked.

“Walt says that someone offered him cash to file the assault charge.”

Devlin sat up straighter. “Who?”

“He doesn’t know. Said it was anonymous. He also said that he agrees it was stupid to take cash under those circumstances, but he stands by his complaint. You did beat the shit out of him.”

“Under the circumstances, I’m not terribly worried about a conviction. Are you putting him in front of mug shots to identify the payor?”

“Yes, but nothing so far.”

“Well, that’s too bad. Keep me posted, okay?” Devlin was about to end the call, when Lamar continued.

“That’s not all of it. I want to get you and Brandy down here to the station first thing in the morning. Apparently Walt wants a sit-down. Are you up for that?”

“It’s a civil case. What’s he doing pulling in the police?”

“His attorney’s been on us to press charges. He must want to address that, too. Honestly, I’m happy to be in the loop. Makes it easier for me to look after Brandy.”

“Well, I don’t know what he expects will happen, but I’m game.” If nothing else, he wanted to look in the bastard’s eyes. And let Walt look into his. “When?”

“I’ll book a conference room for nine tomorrow morning.”

Devlin hesitated.

“Come on, man. This is a good thing.”

“No. I’m not hesitating because of that. I just hate putting Brandy through this again so quickly. But you’re right.