42. Easton
Easton
Mya and Oliver are at one end of the table sharing space meant for one, and Jesse’s seated at the other side behind his own laptop. I have a feeling the only reason Wyatt’s not here is because he can’t be in the same room as his daughter without picking a fight about her safety.
I don’t have an answer to give him yet about my talk with Gwen. And there’s zero chance of me telling him I went to lecture her and left with her under my skin in a way I’ll never shake.
Gwen must feel my eyes on her, because she looks up from her screen. I thought I spoiled the mood with how things ended in the bedroom, but based on the way Miss Trouble is staring at me with her lip between her teeth, I didn’t.
I shut my eyes as memories crash over me.
The warmth of her beneath me on that bed.
How her body responded to my touch.
I can still hear her moans.
And hell, I don’t even want to stress-chew gum while I work, because I don’t want to erase the taste of her.
I shift in my chair, grounding myself, forcing those thoughts out of my head. When I open my eyes, she’s looking at her screen again—thank the Lord—so I do the same.
A few minutes pass, then Carter abruptly stands and decides to hover over my shoulder, so that’s fun. “Anything yet?” he asks with his usual intensity.
Griffin casually twists around to glance at him and answers for both of us. “Nothing since the last time you asked.”
Gray and Wyatt may have convinced Carter not to accuse his mother-in-law outright, but the only suspect at the top of his list is her. And he’s still so on edge, his edges have edges.
“Actually, I think I have something,” Jesse announces a few seconds later.
Carter rounds the table to look at his screen. “And?”
Jesse’s clenched jaw is a good sign we’re not going to like what he has to say. “In 2011, the region was clearing insurgent groups to pave the way for a new federal government. A rival leader was assassinated around the time both Wyatt and Carter were operating in the area.”
“So we all read,” Carter says, sliding his hands into his pockets. “And my people had nothing to do with that hit. We were there hunting traffickers, not dealing with political and civil unrest. Where are you going with—” He cuts himself off while dropping his head forward.
Another bad sign.
What are we missing?
“He’s not mentioned by name, but based on the details and patterns I’ve studied about him over the years . . .” Jesse pauses, and now it clicks. “I’d bet my life on the fact it was The Chechen’s doing. He was the hitman.”
The Chechen with a capital T—arrogant son of a bitch. Thankfully, he’s a dead son of a bitch.
“So, someone hired him to take out that leader to help usher in the new federal government?” Mya asks.
“That’d be my guess,” Jesse mutters, probably having flashbacks to the op that finally brought him and Ella together for good.
“Are we back to him again?” Gwen whispers. “Is a dead man really at the center of all this?”
“More than likely someone who used to work with him,” Carter says. “That, or they studied The Chechen closely over the years.”
“Maybe that someone also hired him to take out the Somalian leader,” Jesse suggests. “It’s not like foreign governments have never participated in regime changes. It would also explain why key details were left out of the reports. So they wouldn’t be linked to the assassination.”
“I’m guessing that someone is MI6,” Carter adds bitterly.
“So, this is how they manipulated all of us,” Gwen says softly. “From Bodhi to Dad to Zoey.”
“Someone who knew Zoey would take The Chechen bait and go to the island.” I lean back in my seat.
“We already have our suspect, then.” I shake my head.
“Molly,” I say what we all have to be thinking now.
“She can’t be innocent, right? And she’s sure as hell not a pawn like Bodhi.
She’s either as high up in this as Jezebel seems to be, or—”
“Jezebel’s boss. The one pulling the strings,” Carter cuts in. “Which means my mother-in-law might be innocent.” He grimaces, either feeling guilty for jumping the gun about her, or disappointed he can’t put her behind bars.
“But what the hell is Molly’s endgame? If it is her, I mean.” No actual evidence to speak of yet. “Why would she turn?”
Before anyone can toss more theories into the hat, Gwen’s phone rings.
“It’s Julian.” She puts him on speakerphone. “Tell me you have that list.”
“I’m emailing you the names and photos of who I’ve come up with. I’ve never personally met any of these people, but I’ve worked with them through online channels over the years. The files are encrypted. It’ll take a minute.”
As we wait, Carter fills Julian in on our new working theory about Molly, and he doesn’t seem surprised. Of course, since she went off grid before Gwen’s abduction, we always figured Molly was more than likely either dead or guilty (or both).
“Zoey in the room with you?” Carter asks him.
“She’s in the suite next door working with Gideon and Mason. We have to watch that woman like a hawk. She’s constantly ready to go rogue and take on the world—”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Gwen interrupts, leaning closer to her screen before she spins her laptop around for all of us to see. “Change the hair color and add about ten years, and . . . meet Jezebel.”