“Sawyer,” I shout, racing from the living room toward the bedrooms. “You have to see this.”
He pokes his head out of his bedroom where he’s packing his things. “Where’s the fire?”
“Look at that.” I slap a thick manila folder into his chest.
“What is it?” he asks, taking it from me and moving to the couch by the wall in his master suite.
“William Hamilton’s demise.” I shift on my feet and rub my hands together. “It’s got tons of evidence we can use against him. Tax evasion. Sex trafficking. Drug deals. There’s even arms deals he’s done with overseas enemies of the US. That’s treason with the potential for terrorism. There is no way they won’t throw the book at him for this.”
Sawyer’s eyes pop wide as he skims through the bulky file. “Where did you get this?”
“It was in the box I took from the office yesterday, but I’ve got no clue how it got there. It wasn’t in my stuff when I cleared out my desk.”
“Someone must have put it there when we left the box with the receptionist.”
“I’m guessing so.” I had come to the same conclusion.
“We need to find out where this came from.”
“For sure, but right now, we need to agree what to do with this.”
“Let’s call Lauder and Anderson.”
I plop down beside him. “You’re worried using this might force Hamilton to reveal the Montgomery murder tape?” It’s my biggest fear, even if I’m excited to finally have some concrete ammunition we can use to hang that motherfucking bastard.
Sawyer nods. “I am, but we may have no choice. If Hamilton isn’t taken down, he’ll keep coming at us. At all of us.”
“I agree,” Anderson says ten minutes later when we’re on a group Zoom call with Jackson. The girls are present too. They’re not happy. Understandably so. I don’t like the risk either, but it seems like there is no other option.
“Why not use this to force Hamilton into submission?” Nessa says. “Between this, the evidence your father has, and the recording you guys taped, there is more than enough to force him to toe the line. Tell him to quit as president and walk away and you won’t hand his ass to the authorities.”
“That won’t work, beautiful.” Jackson circles his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “He’ll just be more determined to come after us.”
“Lauder is right. This intel is too dangerous to make him aware of its existence. The only thing we can do is hand it over to the authorities,” Anderson says.
“And it’s the right thing to do,” Sawyer adds. “This guy needs to pay for his sins. The stuff in the file is disgusting. Especially the sex trafficking. He has sold thousands of kids and forced others into prostitution and kiddie porn. He has to be stopped.”
“What if we went to Keven Kennedy?” Abby suggests. She’s been deep in thought. “Give him that and tell him about the tape. Explain the circumstances. Maybe you can make a deal that keeps you out of jail.”
Sawyer, Jackson, and Kai exchange knowing looks, silently communicating as tension bleeds into the air.
“I think we should give the evidence to Kennedy but say nothing about the tape,” Jackson says. “We’ll put him in an awkward position if we mention it, and there may be nothing he can do.”
“I agree with Lauder. I say we take our chances,” Anderson says.
“We could break into his place after he’s arrested and see if we can find it,” I suggest. “I’m betting his buddies will dump him the second this goes down. He’ll be more vulnerable, and it should be easier to get into his office and his home.”
“I doubt we’ll find it in there,” Kai says. “We know from past experience these guys never leave stuff lying around where anyone could find it.”
“We have to take the risk,” Sawyer says. “If it is disclosed, we’ll lawyer up and use the media to paint Montgomery as the villain he was. There would be outrage if they sent us down for it.”
Anderson and Lauder nod. “I think that’s the smartest play.”
“You would still be arrested, and you might be sent to prison to await trial,” Abby says, her voice thick with fear.
“That’s a chance we have to take, babe.” Anderson wraps his arms around his wife. “It’s time to do this. This is bigger than us.”
“This is the best way to protect everyone,” Jackson agrees.
“Then we’re doing it,” Sawyer says, and I slide my fingers through his. I don’t like they are having to take this risk, but I see the logic in their strategy.
“I’ll make the call to Kennedy,” Anderson says as Abby swipes at her eyes.
I blow her a kiss, touching her pretty face on the screen. “It will be okay, bestie. None of us have fought this hard for it to end like this. No matter how it goes down, it will be all right. We’ll make sure of it.”
29
Sawyer
“I liked that last place,” Xavier says, throwing himself down on the couch in his Boston apartment, where we are currently living.
My cell vibrates with a message, and I pull it out as I kick off my sneakers and sit down. “Me too. The rent is good, and the area is up-and-coming.”
“Plus, it’s only a few blocks from here.” We have decided to concentrate our efforts on finding a new business premises and a house in Rydeville. We can use Xavier’s apartment until we have the time to buy a new one. Right now, our priority is getting the business up and running, and I’ll be returning to school next Monday. Magda has resigned from her position at Techxet, and she’s going to come and work for us part-time so she can enjoy semi-retirement. We’re putting her up in a hotel until she’s found a place to call home in Boston. We’re both thrilled she accepted our offer without any hesitation, having no permanent ties in New York. “Turn on CNN,” I say, reading my message from Anderson. “The news has broken about Hamilton.”
Keven Kennedy visited us in New York along with two of his colleagues, and we handed them the evidence. We hadn’t heard anything until last night when he sent us a group message to say an arrest was imminent.
Xavier turns on the TV, flicking through various news channels, and it’s the headline on all of them. Hamilton is also being linked to the recent murder of Ronald Murtagh in the Otisville Correctional Facility. That news hit the headlines a few days ago. Maybe I’m cold, but I feel no remorse. That guy dug his own grave.
“Now we wait,” Xavier says, turning off the TV. Tossing the remote aside, he crawls into my lap. “I’m scared.”
“Don’t be.” I cup his cheek. “We’ll handle whatever comes our way. Worst-case scenario, I grovel to Dad and get him to hand his evidence over in exchange for making the case against us go away.”
“Would he do that?”
I nod. “Perception is everything to him. You know that. Can you imagine how horrified he’d be if I was arrested for murder and my face splashed all over the news?”