“Until he died,” Xavier says.
He sits up straighter. “You know about that?”
“Like I said, we know about the elite.” I fucking knew the elite were involved. I knew my gut instinct was correct and we’ve been going about our investigation all wrong.
“Why didn’t you come forward if you know he’s dead?” Xavier asks.
“That fucker wasn’t working alone. I knew he had a team. Word was sent through to me to keep my mouth shut or they’d murder my family. They stopped putting the monthly deposit into my wife’s bank account. Motherfucking assholes.” His nostrils flare. He’s obviously never heard there is no honor among thieves. “But I was too scared to say anything.”
What a dumb fuck. He deserves to die for his stupidity, and I have no qualms about lying to him on the protection front. As soon as we walk out of here, dude is on his own.
“Has anyone named Hamilton ever paid you a visit?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “The only one I ever saw or spoke to was Mathers. I don’t know who the others are.”
“If I find out you’re lying, I will retract my protection and let the elite hounds go at you,” I threaten.
“I swear I don’t know anything else. I have told you everything.”
“What about the stolen money?” I ask. “Where is it?”
“I don’t know. I had nothing to do with the theft.”
“Of course, you didn’t,” I sneer. “You just showed him where all the money was kept, both onshore and offshore, and Becker gave him access to the entire system.” I gather my documentation, placing it back in my bag.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, okay?”
No, it’s not okay, dipshit.
“Were you involved in the most recent theft?” I ask, zipping my bag.
His brow scrunches up. “What recent theft?”
“Someone stole more money recently.”
His eyes pop wide, and unless he’s a great actor, he looks genuinely surprised. “I had nothing to do with that. I swear!”
“You better pray you didn’t,” I warn, standing.
Xavier shuts off the recording and seals the cell back in the hidden compartment of his bag.
“You’ll send the money to my wife. Like you promised,” he says as Xavier goes to get the guard to tell him we’re done.
“I will. She will have the money by the end of the day.”
That is one promise I will keep. It’s not her fault her husband is a lying, thieving bastard. She’s a victim too. If my father was aware of what I’d done, he’d be disgusted because he would see her and her children as an extension of the man who defrauded him. I see it differently. She has paid the price for his sins, and if this is what it took to get the man to tell the truth, then it is money well spent.
The guard enters the room, and I walk away without giving the asshole another passing glance. He has served his purpose and served it well.
18
Sawyer
“We’ve been approaching this all wrong,” I say into my phone as I drive us away from the correctional facility. We called the crew and updated them on our conversation with Murtagh as soon as we walked out of the prison gates. “We need to trace the money from the other end, starting with Mathers.”
“I’ll get on it immediately,” Charlie says.
“Dig into Hamilton’s financial affairs too,” Drew says.
“Be careful.” Xavier pulls his Mac out of his bag. “Ensure whatever you’re doing is hidden and no one makes a move until Hunt and I have hacked into their systems.”
“You probably won’t find anything,” Anderson says.
“And that’s if you can even get into their stuff,” Drew adds. “If they are behind this, you probably won’t be able to get past their firewalls.”
“I think we need to prepare for a recon mission,” Anderson says, taking the words right out of my mouth.
“I’ll put the Manning Motors jet on standby,” Drew replies.
“No,” Xavier and I say in unison. “We can’t tip anyone off we are coming,” Xavier says.
“We’ll drive,” I confirm, pulling out onto the highway.
“I’ll call my dad,” Lauder says. “See if we can line up those same guys we used when we hit Bama the last time. They knew their stuff.”
“Wasn’t one of them on the inside?” Xavier says. “Is he still on their payroll?”
“Good question,” Lauder says. “I’d say it’s unlikely, but I’ll check. Even if he’s no longer on the detail, having him on our side would come in handy. He’ll know the layout of the property and the house.”
“We need those guys,” I agree. “The more hands we have on deck, the better. I’ll grab equipment and attire from Techxet.”
“The girls stay out of this,” Anderson says.
“Agreed,” Lauder says. “It’s too fucking dangerous.”
“I’ll have no issue with Demi,” Charlie says. “But how the hell do you intend on keeping Abby and Nessa out of this? They’ll want in.”
“Shandra too,” Drew says.
“Abby has performances coming up. She won’t like sitting this one out, but she won’t let Madam or the other dancers down.”
“Nessa won’t want to go anywhere near that house,” Jackson quietly says. “She won’t have an issue sitting this one out.”
“And Shandra will be fine if the other girls aren’t coming,” Xavier supplies, tapping away on his laptop.
“Okay. We’ve got a plan. Let’s take a couple of days to see what we can dig up, and if we come up empty-handed, we drive to Bama on Thursday,” I say.
Everyone agrees and we hang up.
I keep music on low as we drive back to the city. Xavier has his head buried in his computer, already working some angles.
“Are we going to your place or HQ?” I ask when we enter the city limits a couple of hours later.
“Go to my place.” He lifts his head, piercing me with sharp eyes. “I’ll kick the others back to the office so we can work in privacy. No one else can know what we’re planning.”
“Agreed.” We still haven’t discovered if there is a mole in the company, but it seems like the only logical explanation. No one outside of our crew knows we are working an elite angle, and we need to keep it that way.
I make good time, and we pull into the underground parking lot of Xavier’s building thirty minutes later. Gathering our shit, we climb out of the car and head to the elevator. “At least it feels like we are finally getting somewhere,” Xavier says, his foot tapping impatiently off the floor.
“It’s great to get confirmation we were right, but we need proof.”
“And we need to find the money,” Xavier adds, rushing past me when the elevator pings and the doors open.
“You focus on Mathers,” I murmur as we stride along the hallway toward his apartment. “And I’ll look into Hamilton.”
Slotting his key in the lock, he opens the apartment and we walk inside, slamming to a halt at the sight of Jamison and some stranger with cropped blond hair bent over a computer screen.