Chapter 6 #2
Along with the rest of his team. Something he still had a hard time thinking about. Accepting. His friends had died, and for what?
He mentally shook himself. After that, he hadn’t been about to stay with them. “It was tough, but I managed to extricate myself relatively cleanly from the DEA.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the record of my time there is very hard to find.” Redacted mostly.
Not quite erased, but damn near. And once he’d left, Micah had built out Cormac’s original cover so subtly that it still existed on some corners of the internet.
Cormac could still use the name he’d had back then.
And no one he’d worked with before would have any idea because the DEA had retired that cover.
Micah had made it workable again. Connor Robertson was a common enough name, which had made it easier.
Hell, there was only one person still alive that he’d even worked with, and that man had retired, was living somewhere north of Seattle on a boat.
“But for all intents and purposes, I’m still Connor Robertson. At least for right now.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s clear that you’ve been trying to get out of your life.
Or that’s my assumption since you were meeting with Greg Temple.
” He couldn’t be sure, but the man clerked for judges, would have a lot of information at his fingertips that the public couldn’t get.
Cormac also bet that Temple had a decent relationship with the district attorney’s office.
“I’m guessing that you met with him regularly enough to give him information on your family?
Maybe you were even building a case against them?
” It was a shot in the dark, but a pretty damn good one considering the way her face paled.
She gave a short nod. “So you’re just taking on this Connor cover again out of the goodness of your heart to help me? You’re not working with any government agency?”
“Correct. But I’m not working alone. I work for an…off-the-books company, I guess you’d say.” He wasn’t going to give any more info on his brothers just yet. He wouldn’t put them at risk.
She gave a soft snort that sounded a lot like she didn’t believe him. Which was definitely fair. He wouldn’t believe himself either.
“So what happened to Temple? I mean, I know he was tortured, but is that connected to what happened at the diner?” There was too much up in the air right now, and if he was going to extricate her, he needed to know what he was working with.
She was silent for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Yes. I don’t know how exactly, but Lebedev made it clear that he’d killed Greg. I don’t know why though.”
He believed her. “My associates went back to his place last night, searched it for anything that might help. There’s nothing there linking you to him.”
She looked faintly surprised, but didn’t respond.
“We’re going to try to find a link between Temple and the Popovs. Or at least between him and Dima Lebedev. Likely someone hired him and we need to know who—and why Lebedev came after you.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “I still can’t believe Greg is gone. He was a good man, hated the corruption he was seeing and wanted to make a change. I feel like I should call the police or do something to report his murder, but I can’t be linked to him. I hate the thought of him just…rotting.”
“I can have someone do a wellness check. Pretend to call from his work.” Cormac might not even have to. Someone from his job could do it. Or maybe a concerned neighbor.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Do you know a man named Louis Cain?” he asked abruptly, wanting to see her reaction.
She stared at him blankly for a moment, then shook her head. “No, that doesn’t sound familiar. Who is he?”
“He runs drugs a few towns over—or he used to. He’s a CI for the Feds now as far as I know.
He also owns a bar. In the course of another investigation, someone I work with found a stack of photographs among other things in his office.
Most of the pictures were clearly for blackmail.
Except one. It’s of you and Temple. Your face is mostly obscured and it’s clear that it’s winter at the time it was taken. He never contacted you or Temple?”
“Not that I know of. I’m not under the illusion that Greg told me everything, but he was…
” She sighed. “He was working to root out any corruption he saw as a clerk. Didn’t matter whether it was a judge, cop, whoever.
He was creating a database, I guess you could say.
I think he might have even been talking to a journalist, but I don’t know for sure. ”
“Is that what you two were working on together? The database?”
“No. He had his own agenda—one I support. But I’ve been solely working to get enough evidence against my family to…leave.”
“To take them down?”
She simply nodded.
He knew how she felt about her father, but actually sending family to prison was a different beast. No matter that it was the right thing to do, it would take a toll. Of course, being forced to live a life she hated took a toll too.
“If your family finds out what you were doing with him…”
“My father will kill me. Or at least try. I’m well aware of what will happen.” Her tone was dry, but it didn’t hide the sadness in her dark eyes before she glanced away.
He wanted to just pack her up and whisk her away to anywhere but here. “How were you and Temple helping each other exactly?”
“He had an idea of who was on my brother’s payroll—dirty cops and at least one judge—and was building up a case against said cops and judge.”
“So if he managed to take them down—with the DA’s help, I’m assuming—it might only be a matter of time before he could take down any other criminals they were helping.”
“Exactly. And that’s why he approached me.
I don’t know how, but he figured out I’m not a willing participant in my family’s bullshit.
I didn’t believe him at first, but he eventually wore me down.
” She gave a ghost of a smile. “Looking back, it was pretty bold approaching me like that. He was inspiring. Just this regular guy who wanted to make a difference.” She wiped away a stray tear, shook herself.
“The world needs more people like that,” he murmured.
Cormac wanted to ask for names, for details, but now wasn’t the time.
She didn’t trust him. Maybe she never would.
But until she was comfortable enough to give him more information, he at least had something to work with.
“We never found Temple’s phone,” he finally said.
“And it looks like his laptop was stolen from his house.” He wanted to ask if she had either of them.
Her expression remained neutral, however.
He shoved out a sigh. “Look. Even if you don’t have enough evidence to take down your family, I can help you start over. Not me personally, but I know people who can help you with a new identity, new everything. You can get away. You’re not stuck here.”
She stared at him for a long moment, surprise flickering in her dark eyes. Before she could respond, her phone buzzed. After she glanced at the screen, her face paled. “Julian’s here. You need to hide.”
He’d met her brother a handful of times, back before Julian had taken over the family business. “No.”
Daniela stared at him as if he was speaking another language. “Wait…what?”
“I’m not hiding. You can tell him we’re back together.
Say it’s been about three months since we reconnected at the gallery.
You didn’t tell him because you weren’t sure how serious you were.
But it’s official now. He’ll believe it.
” Or at least he would have no reason to question it.
Daniela wasn’t a serial dater—that was right, he knew that from his light stalking—and wouldn’t bring someone into her family’s orbit unless she was sure about them.
She continued staring at him, but he didn’t move. This wasn’t something he was going to back down on.
If he was going to keep her safe, he needed a reason to be with her all the time. As her boyfriend, he would be given that privilege.
Her doorbell rang.
She opened her mouth, clearly to argue.
“I’m not going anywhere so you might want to answer the door.” Then he turned his back to her and started pouring himself a mug of coffee.
She let out a growl of frustration that he shouldn’t find so adorable. Then he heard her bare feet slap against the tile as she stomped from the kitchen.
Moments later he heard her brother’s low voice, then a few moments later Julian Hill strode into the kitchen with Daniela.
The faintest surprise flickered in his gaze before he looked at his sister. Then back at Cormac.
“Connor Robertson. Thought you were dead,” Julian murmured. He was a compact man, maybe five foot nine, and he could handle himself.
Cormac had personally seen him take down two men in a vicious fight he hadn’t provoked. But the dark-haired, dark-eyed man had certainly finished it.
“Nope.” He took a sip of his coffee, watching the other man carefully.
Unlike the mostly beefy guys who worked with him, Julian was Ivy League-educated, had a business degree, and appeared civilized and polished. Underestimating him would be a mistake.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Daniela asked oh so politely.
Her brother didn’t look at her. Nope, he kept his gaze on Cormac—he knew who the predator in the room was. “No, but you both need to get dressed. You’re coming with me.”
Cormac wouldn’t let her go anywhere without him so he simply nodded. He loved her, had never stopped. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t been able to be completely honest with her, he’d never faked his feelings.
Whatever happened after this, she was his to protect. Whether she wanted his protection or not.