Proof of Life (The Potentate of Atlanta #4) - Hailey Edwards Page 0,62

for my bad behavior.”

“Suck-up,” Bishop muttered. “You’re not one of the two.”

Hand to his heart, Ford demanded, “How do you know?”

“I bring her café mochas every night before shift.” He grinned. “What have you done for her lately?”

“I started dating her friend,” he said defensively.

“You make it sound like you’re dating her as a favor to Hadley.” Grier whistled. “Ouch.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Ford groaned. “I like Lisbeth. Not because Hadley told me either.”

“This is embarrassing me, and it has nothing to do with me.” Bishop angled the laptop toward me. “This is the household account for grocery delivery. There are two addresses. One at the Faraday and one in a bad part of town.”

“That’s good news.” I leaned over the table. “Pull the address up on a map.”

The top search result was for Women’s Medical Center. He clicked on the most popular image, and a red cinderblock building with fading blue trim appeared onscreen. Sun-bleached flyers in the window touted everything from free birth control to onsite GED classes. I could picture Liz volunteering there with ease. Hiding kidnap victims? Not so much.

“Well, that’s a bust.” I slumped with disappointment. “We’ll still need to clear it, though.”

“Maybe not a bust.” He switched to the previous screen. “Looks like the center closed a month ago.”

“Okay.” I chewed on my thumbnail. “I can see why.”

“Ares had groceries delivered there yesterday.”

“What?” I dropped my arm. “Bring up the list.”

A mix of shelf-stable foods, mostly protein bars and junk food, bottled water, and toilet paper topped it.

“How far is this?” Grier spoke from behind me. “Can we check it out tonight?”

“Not far.” I calculated the distance in my head. “Let’s hope we’re not too late.”

The wake accomplished one thing. Ares knew Midas was onto her. She wouldn’t have rabbited otherwise. And if she started erasing their trail, she might burn the evidence. All four witnesses included.

“Midas and Ford, you’re with me.” I patted Bishop on the shoulder. “Get me eyes on that building.”

“I’ll head back to HQ.” He stood and took the laptop with him. “I’ll put Reece on surveillance.”

“Sounds good.” I hesitated over Linus and Grier. “Usually, this is the part where I run out of orders to give and people to give them to, so I’m drawing a blank.”

“We can handle patrol,” she offered. “That way your team can focus on you, and we can make sure your raid doesn’t flush out more rats.” She grinned, and we were two teenagers again. “Or Martian Roaches.”

“That would be great.” I experienced a twinge at handing over the reins to my city, even for a night, even in part to the man who still held her. “Thanks.” Facing the others, I wiped my damp palms on my pants. “Let’s go.”

The fate of my world rested on the outcome of this trip, and that was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

We could be this close to finding them. This close to setting things back to rights. This close to…

…the truth.

However much it might hurt.

Thirteen

Midas texted his mother an update. The operation belonged, officially, to the Office of the Potentate. He doubted his mother would protest the pack ceding that right, given his mating to Hadley, but there was little he could do in any case. The bomber had targeted her, and then her family. The case fell under her jurisdiction, even if the person responsible was gwyllgi. Or wore the skin of one.

Meting out punishment, however, might get sticky.

Traditionally, the OPA handed gwyllgi offenders over to the alpha for a trial and sentencing. That might not be an option in this instance. No confrontation with witchborn fae, or hosts, had ended in anything less than bloodshed. But the pack would be on edge if the future potentate put down one of their own.

All the more reason to do as his mother suggested and make his union official in the eyes of the pack.

“Almost there,” Hadley said under her breath, sensing his unease.

Midas had forgotten Linus used the Society’s car service when Hadley accepted his polite offer of a lift to the clinic. That might have been a willful choice. He hated riding in these branded sedans with their haughty disdain for their passengers. Or maybe that was just him feeling out of place in their world, so different from pack life or fae mores, making the ease with which Hadley had integrated into his all the more impressive.

The interior of the car was as red as a mouth opened on a scream. Old