remain vertical. I let a man go who had three men in his back pocket with evidence to pin the case on. Three pedophiles and a partner who would back him financially, every step of the way.
“Could be … if I recall, he specialized in headstones.”
“They will all die,” I whisper, my eyes barely parted, same as my lips, as I stare down where my hand grabs the edge of the cheap dresser.
“Yes. Reynolds. His in-laws own a masonry and at least two properties in the designated area.”
A sense of control comes flooding back knowing we have addresses. “What are they?”
“One’s a piece of land that looks to be about twenty acres in the middle of nowhere. The other is a morgue.”
“Rewind it again,” I say, standing upright to speak firmly. “Send the two addresses and rewind it one last time.”
“Sir, we need to scan the vicinities—”
“Send me both addresses.” My tone is sharp with the request and in return there’s silence.
“Marcus said—” The fool still believes I’m only second-in-command to the enigma named Marcus. Riggins spends his days like any other coder for a private security firm hired out by the government. When I tell him Marcus is calling on him, he answers immediately. After all, he owes Marcus everything and Marcus has never told a soul what he did. He took the blame for the murder. He paid the hospital bills. Marcus took care of everything for Riggins. In return, he’s asked for so very little.
The screen in front of me is stagnant as Riggins continues to resist. I’m only vaguely aware I’m on edge and not the calm mouthpiece I typically play.
Clearing my throat and ignoring the heat that surges through my body, I take control as I should … As Marcus’s second-in-command.
“I’m aware that Marcus wants every bit of information.”
“That’s what I’m here for, and you’re rushing this.” Riggins’s tone holds a warning. “What we don’t know is what will bury us. We don’t move until we know.” His dark gaze peers into the camera, staring at no one although I stare back. “You’re the one who told me that. I gather everything we need. You execute the mission, picking the players we need. It’s always worked that way. We shouldn’t rush this.”
I confess what I shouldn’t. “We don’t have time.” The incessant ticking of the clock has tortured me every moment she’s been gone. What am I supposed to do? Sleep, knowing she’s being tortured? Eat, not knowing if she’s starving to death?
“There is no reason to rush …” Riggins’s words are slow, his expression suspicious. He’s a fool. He’s a damned fool. There’s never been a moment in our collaboration where he’s questioned me. He’s been eager to have his rightful place delving into the darkness and aiding however he can. I was prepared at any point to kill him. He was going to die before I stepped in. Marcus saved his life, even if he’s never realized I am Marcus.
“Sir … I think you may be overreacting. Are you …” His swallow is audible. I can practically see the wheels turning. “I think you may be …”
“May be what? Distracted? Emotionally invested?” As if I didn’t already know.
“There are two addresses. If you go to the first, and you’re wrong, they could know we were there. They could prepare for us, and then what?”
“My contact and I will split the locations.”
“We don’t have men here. It will only be you.”
His uncertainty and hesitation are infuriating. “Send me the addresses.”
“You’re not telling me something,” he says, coming closer to the truth. “Does Marcus know?”
A sarcastic laugh leaves me in mourning. I risk confiding in him the longer this goes on.
“If she was yours,” I nearly whisper, “if she was yours, would you wait any longer?”
Riggins’s expression adjusts as the realization hits him. “This isn’t about Brass and the cases.” A sad smile picks up one side of my lips.
“No. It’s not.”
“Does Marcus know?” he questions again and I nod like a fool as if he can see me.
“Marcus is aware.”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was …” he trails off and clears his throat. “Never mind.”
“Tell me what you thought.”
“You’ve slipped recently … you haven’t been focused, and I thought Marcus would notice and maybe he has … maybe …”
Tension rolls down my shoulders as heat burns its way through me, threatening and igniting a less forgiving side of me. “What do you intend to do about me slipping?”
With a click on the keyboard, Delilah’s brought back