Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
Cards on the table
REED
First thing this morning, Agent Hemsley messaged the team to inform us that the preliminary ERT findings from the Hartley murder scene are in.
Carson messaged me directly not long after, requesting a status on Lila’s intel about Silas.
Then Andrews texted me. He was simply checking on me after last night’s emotional revelation about Lila’s sister.
Bafflingly, I replied to him first.
It’s weird to say this, but being vulnerable with him last night was fresh air filling my lungs.
And if you repeat that, I’ll file charges against you for slandering a federal agent.
Anyhow, for now, our team is split up. We’re going in separate directions, following leads to bring this case to a swift and hopefully nonviolent conclusion.
The message I got moments ago was from SSA Chase. I guess she felt the need to remind me I’m not allowed to report to the office until I’ve done my part.
In other words, I’ve been ordered to stay with Lila.
Not so I can fuck her on the couch, the kitchen counter, the shower, in the bathtub, or a hundred other places in my condo like I’ve fantasized about doing.
Regrettably.
Instead, my job is to find out everything she knows about Silas and then convince her to come to the office with me as an official informant.
And that’s what I’ll do.
Unless she confesses to something unexpected that makes me flee the country with her. I wonder if her passport is still valid. Just in case.
After sending SSA Chase a reply to confirm I understood her instructions, I tuck my phone in my back pocket and join Lila on the couch.
Between the two of us, I’d have expected I’d be the calm one. Wrong. She’s the picture of serenity while I’m twitching all over.
Proving my point, Lila begins her dissertation as soon as my ass touches the sofa cushion.
“Silas met me at the casino about a month before this all started. He—”
“Hold up a second,” I interject. “Before we begin, I need you to know that you’re under no obligation to talk to me. You’re free to end this conversation at any time. And anything you say can be used as part of a criminal investigation.”
Her head kicks back, her confidence faltering. “Did you just read me my rights?”
“Not quite the same thing. But more or less, yeah. You aren’t under arrest, though. You’re free to leave. This has to be a voluntary discussion, or I can’t use it.”
She runs her flattened palms down the tops of her thighs nervously. “Okay. Got it.”
“Continue at your pace. And sorry for the formality.”
“I understand.” Her gaze falls to the coffee table. “Um. So why don’t you ask me questions like you would a . . . suspect or whatever. I suddenly don’t know what to say first. But I’ll answer anything you ask honestly.”
“That’s fair enough.” I retrieve my phone and pull out the picture that Andrews showed me last night, which puts everything in perspective. “Tell me about this.”
She glances at it for a split second. “Oh, that ol’ chestnut?
A fantastic place to start.” After drawing in a sharp breath, she releases it in a lingering stream.
“Put it away, please. I’ve seen it more than enough for one lifetime.
Plus, knowing what we know now about Kenzie, it’s more painful to look at. Not to mention confusing.”
I close the photo of Kenzie’s battered face, fighting the discordant emotions of my own. Just yesterday, I wrote off my sister for what I thought was the last time. And now I want to go to her to ensure she’s all right. It’s a thorny sensation I haven’t fully processed yet.
She nibbles on her lip, then flicks an inquisitive look at me from under her thick eyelashes. “I assume you got this off my phone, which honestly doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should.”
“Did Silas send you this?”
“No. He’d never be foolish enough to leave me with evidence. It’s an old-school Polaroid. One night, I got home from work to find him sitting in my living room. Figuring out how he got inside no longer mattered once he showed me the picture.”
Memories of how I surprised her in her apartment that night, acting like a cocky asshole, slam into me like a battering ram.
She continues with the story. “He said the only way I’d ever see her alive again was to help them,” she pauses to swallow, then finishes, “cheat at the casino.”
Everything digital has a trail, so the method he used is smart. Right down to the damn camera.
“How did you end up with the photo on your phone?”
“I snapped this picture when he turned away from me to take a call.”
A slight hit of pride fills my chest. “Smart.”
“I figured I’d need evidence to show the police because my initial reaction was no flipping way would I help them steal.”
“Then why didn’t you go to the cops after he left? Or call me?”
“First, I didn’t exactly trust you at the time.
More importantly, he said they’d kill her if I did.
And I believed him. He was very convincing.
” Her chin wobbles, but she presses on. “He also said they’d know if I contacted the cops because he would have someone watching me day and night. I couldn’t risk her.”
Lila’s eyes pinch shut, and she shakes her head almost imperceptibly. No doubt she’s reliving the desperation and fear she must have felt when faced with this horrible decision.
I long to comfort her. I should probably keep the physical space between us during this questioning, thus maintaining a professional distance. But I can’t fucking do that.
She’s mine, and she’s in pain. I’ll give her solace no matter the circumstances. Period.
After quickly erasing the inches separating us, I throw my arm over her shoulders and bring her body flush with mine. “It’s okay, cookie. I get it. You were scared.”
She sniffles. “I was terrified. And worse, I felt guilty because I was the dumb one who brought him into our lives, falling for his lies. He must have known I’d do anything to save her, especially since he saw how close we were.
How much I depended on her. I thought she was all I had in life after Zara . . .”
My heart aches for her. Knowing how deeply Lila cares for Kenzie, she must have been a wreck. And I was such a fucking shit to her right when she needed me the most.
In retrospect, it was because of Kenzie that I convinced myself Lila was the enemy. Although I should be furious at my sister for her deceit—and I am—I’m more concerned for her. She must have been through some bad shit at the hands of monsters that can do the things they’ve done.
Nobody deserves that.
“How long did they keep her?” I ask.
“A little over five weeks.”
Damn.
“And you marked cards for them the entire time, right?”
“Started about a week later. I needed time to practice the movement without being noticed.”
“You were good. Pretty slick. I’ve seen the videos from the camera over your table. It’s no wonder you got away with it for so long.”
“I’m good with my hands.” Her voice holds a tinge of smugness, making me smile. “Remember your keys?”
“Ah, yes. The old dick grab pick pocket. How could I forget? One of my finest moments.”
“Sorry about that again. I honestly thought I had no choice. Silas gave her back to me that night. If you followed me, I didn’t know how he’d react.”
My law enforcement training takes over, quashing the odd pride I feel for her for duping me and the disdain I hold for myself for letting her.
“Go back for a second. Did he teach you how to mark the cards?”
“No. He gave me these tacky rings with some kind of magic dye in them. The people who were going to be playing at my table had contact lenses or glasses to allow them to see the marks.”
That fucking explains the mysterious chemical we found in Hartley’s fake air conditioning vent.
“You still have the rings, right? We’ll need them for evidence.”
“Yes. At home. You can have them. Now that you know about this, there’s no reason for me to keep marking the cards.”
Although I put some of the pieces together on my own, I need to ensure clarity. “Sounds like you continued marking cards after Kenzie was released. Why is that?”
She validates my assumption without missing a beat. “I wanted to stop. I thought I was done. Freaking Silas said they had enough evidence of my involvement that if I stopped or tried to turn them in, they’d take me down with them.”
Classic intimidation technique.
It’s a tale as old as time. The players have changed, but the game remains the same.
The only unexpected aspect of her story is that Kenzie was released instead of killed. That’s a rare conclusion to a kidnapping of this nature.
If they had killed my sister, would it have been as grizzly of a scene as the Hartley murder?
My breakfast threatens to make a reappearance at the morbid thought. I shake it off so it doesn’t distract me. There are still more missing pieces to the puzzle I need to solve before I can ask her to help us find Silas.
Ignoring the boulder swelling in my gut, I press on. “What about Elliott Riddick? How did he factor in?”
“Oh him?” She straightens in my arms, her posture stiffening as her confidence returns.
“I was honest when I said we’d never spoken.
I didn’t even know his name until you told me.
On the night you noticed him, I assumed Silas sent him to my table to intimidate me.
” She shudders. “That creep was leering at me for my entire shift.”
“Cameras didn’t catch him hovering near you any other time. Was that the only night he appeared?”
“Yeah.”
“Why then? After weeks of marking cards for them, what do you think brought him to your table on that particular night?”
“Before my shift that day, I told Silas I was out. He could go to the cops or not. Either way, I was done.”
“So Riddick was a visual threat to scare you into complying,” I summarize.