He swallowed hard. "What? Don’t be ridiculous, Nyla. Besides, this has nothing to do with you. Leave it alone."
"I'm sorry, but this is my business. You're telling me that Francois Theroux was the one who shot me. Great. Fine. So I want to know everything about him.”
"I told you to leave it alone, Nyla. None of this matters anymore."
"Well, it could be relevant. Who is Leah Braddock? Why do you have this photo of her? Where is the rest of her informant testimony? Where is the documentation of the information she delivered? Where’s her compensation package listed? Because I couldn’t find any of that."
He stood and planted his hands on his desk. "I get that you're trying to figure this out, and you're in ‘Nyla mode.’ Full battle avenger, leaping without looking. And I'm telling you, this is none of your business. Get back to work."
I jerked as if he’d hit me. He really wasn't going to tell me. He was definitely hiding something. The question was could I let it go, or was I going to keep digging?
Nyla
Later that afternoon, Amelia came into my office, panting near the door jamb. "Hey, we have a problem. Ryder Strong… he's dead."
I blinked up, my eyes still bleary from pouring over the case files. "What? What do you mean he's dead?" My stomach knotted. Was this real?
"Dead as in dead. We have a body. Let's go."
"Dead how? Like in a car accident? Got hit by a double-decker? What?"
She blew out an exasperated sigh. "Someone killed him. Grab your coat."
"Jesus Christ." My head spun, and bile rose in my throat.
"I know." I followed her out, and as we passed my father's office, he glowered at me and she slid me a glance. "What's going on there?"
“I found out who the informant was on Theroux from thirty years ago. Weird thing is, there is no file on her CI sheet. And she bears a striking resemblance to my mother. I questioned him about it, and he is none too thrilled.”
She stopped in the middle of the hall, forcing Caleb Madison to trip on his own feet to avoid running into her. "What do you mean, ‘she looked like your mother’?"
I shrugged, still unable to process what I knew. "She looks a lot like my mum. The photo is in profile, and the nose is wrong. Cheekbones are off too, but something in her jawline and her mouth is so similar. The photos were taken in the south of France or something. The background is very Cote d’Azur and northern Italy. And in the profile, her face is in some shadow, but God, it really looked like her, at the mouth, especially."
Amelia started walking again. "That’s some coincidence, right?"
"He claims it is. He told me to mind my business though. Obviously, I'm not going to."
She laughed. "Obviously?"
Forty-five minutes later, we were at Ryder Stone’s townhouse. A chill skidded up my spine. "I remember meeting him here."
"Wait, you didn't say you physically met him."
I nodded absently as we tried to focus on the tech guy’s blabber. We were handed booties, hairnets, gloves, and then we were allowed to go inside. "Yeah, East brought me to meet him. He was the fence."
Amelia shook her head. "God, that bloke is like a bad penny. Honestly, every time I turn around, there he is."
"I thought you guys were getting along better?"
She shrugged. "We are. I actually kind of like him for you."
I couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips. "Right, but?"
"It's like this orbit around him, you know? You can't help but get caught up in it. Hell, I'm not even dating him, and I'm caught up in it."
“I get the feeling that's the way it always is, because whatever this is, Emma's caught up too, and Livy."
She shrugged. "And Telly by virtue of being the bestie. She and I have a lot to talk about.”
"Dare I ask? Are you trying to have me replaced?"
She gave me a cheeky grin. "Never. But next time you bag a billionaire, make sure he has a brother or something, preferably one who is not a homicidal maniac, doesn't traffic women, and isn't an all-around asshole. I know, it's a tall order."
"God, you asked for a billionaire, and all you can talk about are reasons why you can't have that billionaire."
She laughed at me. "Exactly. I'm such a pain in the ass, aren't I?"
We located the room where the body was found, and a tech guy motioned for us to come in.
"All right, tell us what we're looking at."
He shook his head. "What you are looking at is Ryder’s place. Obviously, he lived here. It's him in the photos on the wall. We're testing everything, but we assume we'll find his DNA all over the place. All said and done, someone cut out his tongue."
A shudder ran through me. "Jesus Christ. His tongue, really?"
Amelia slid me a look. "Who did that?"
"Well, something like that is usually done because somebody talked. Do you think this is about the car park?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I do.”
I sighed. “This is the last thing we bloody need."
I turned to the tech, Davis, I thought his name was. He was new, younger. "Anything else?"
"We found his phone. It was clutched in his hand. Obviously, we didn't want to disturb the body."
Amelia nodded. "Yup, can you show us?"
He pulled up the digital photos they'd taken.
She frowned when she stared at it. "It's only a partial shot. Do you know who he was texting?"
The tech shook his head. "Not for sure. But he’s got it labeled as Camberwell College of Art. That’s all we got."
Camberwell College of Art. I frowned. Why did I know that name? "Can I make some inquiries?"
Amelia nodded absently, but I knew she fully expected me to take it to the London Lords. After all, they were very much our partners on this. "Yup, you go ahead, I’ll finish this up."
"Any sign of a break-in or anything?" I asked Davis.
He shook his head. “If I had to speculate, he could have known the attacker, as there is no sign of forced entry. We checked all the windows and doors, all of which were locked up tight except for the front door."
I frowned as I kneeled next to the body. He might have been a criminal, but he'd been nice. Affable. Really funny. I didn't know why, but seeing him dead struck a chord deep within me, and I wasn't sure it was one I could let go of.
Who would do this? From what he’d told East and me, he hadn't been in the game in a long time. Something prompted him to give up the storage at the car park. But what? Or who?
I turned to Amelia. "After all these years, why turn in the car park location?"
She watched me. "Maybe he was sick and tired of his partners. Maybe they hadn't paid him. Maybe they tried to cut him out. I don't know. There’s a myriad of possibilities."
“This doesn't make any sense because he'd been cooling for so long. He was trying to go straight."
“People will do things for all kinds of reasons, Ny."
"I know. I just want to know why he did this. I'd been meaning to come over here and speak to him, ask about his sudden change of heart. The last time I saw him, he was all mum, straight and narrow. He went on and on about how he had gone straight. He was putting his skills to good use on the legit side. So, why even involve himself in something like the car park? It would put him in the crosshairs with his partners."