Chapter 40
40
A fter Callie and Agent Erickson escorted Sonnenberg—in handcuffs—from the building to the waiting FBI transport, the Caine siblings begged him and Lina to stay and walk them through everything again, only in more detail. Viper couldn’t blame them. What they’d learned had come as a huge shock. And it was only starting to sink in. They’d probably be processing it for weeks—months—to come.
Rather than stay in the conference room, though, they reconvened in Chris’s office, where he poured them all a glass of scotch. Skipping one for himself, though, he explained he had phone calls to make to the board, the leadership team, and eventually to the company that intended to acquire Navios, but he wanted this moment with his sisters, and the two of them, first.
Most pressing on all the siblings’ minds, though, wasn’t their father’s death but the people who worked on Project 62. They trusted the FBI to bring Craig to justice for the murder—or, more likely, they trusted Lina to ensure they did their job. But it was up to the Caines to make sure their employees—even former ones—were taken care of.
They peppered him and Lina with questions about the six who’d died. When they accepted that they knew everything there was to know, they moved on to asking about Lina’s father and his role in uncovering the connection.
They got a little sidetracked when Lina mentioned her father’s scavenger hunt, but by the time they’d all finished their drinks—and Jennifer and Andrea a second—the Caine siblings had a lot to digest.
“Your father was a remarkable man,” Chris said, eyeing the decanter on the counter.
Lina hesitated, then with conviction, nodded. “He was.”
“And the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Jennifer said.
Andrea nodded. “This is…it’s all, well, a lot to take in, but you’ve done so much. For your father, for the people impacted by Project 62…for us and our father.”
Chris finally caved, and while he didn’t pour a glass of scotch, he made himself a cup of coffee. “I understand looking into your own father’s death and the six people he identified. But what made you look into ours?”
Lina glanced at him. So far, Viper had said almost nothing—this was Lina’s journey, and he had no intention of taking over the wheel. But in this, she asked him to step in.
“We were looking at pictures of Craig online the night after we connected him to Dr. Kato’s death. One of those was from your father’s funeral.” He hesitated, not able to entirely explain what caught his attention in that photo. “The three of you stood at the front of the line, by the casket, and Craig behind you. I…I’ve had a lot of experience with death, and something in his expression drew me in. On a whim, I looked into Arthur’s accident. Sonnenberg gave a lot of interviews afterward?—”
Chris nodded. “We asked him to be the spokesperson for the company,” he said, regret weighing his voice down.
“And his quotes were consistently effusive, highlighting what a pillar Arthur was, how much he did for the community, what a brilliant mind he had, and what a caring parent he’d been.”
“He was all that,” Jennifer said. Her siblings nodded.
“His words were at odds with the expression on his face in that picture. In that picture, he looked…smug,” Viper said.
Chris frowned. “And that was enough to make you suspicious?”
Viper gave a shallow nod. “I don’t like inconsistencies. We already knew he’d paid to have Dr. Kato killed because of what he discovered related to Project 62. It didn’t seem such a reach to consider him for one more murder. Especially one that came not long after the project shut down.”
Andrea grimaced. “Well, when put like that, I can see how it might have piqued your interest.”
“Do you think…” Jennifer cast a glance at her brother before returning her attention to Lina. “Do you think the prosecutors have enough evidence to get him for both murders?”
Lina nodded. “I can’t say what a jury will decide, and I’m sure he’ll hire a good defense attorney, but yes. His sister and her husband will turn on him for my dad’s murder—we have no doubts about that. And with the money trail, it should be enough. As for your dad…we have video of Craig from inside the bar putting something into your father’s drink—a liquid from a small vial—it’s not conclusive, but when looked at in totality with the other evidence, it’s highly suggestive. We were also able to clean up the video from the parking lot. It’s not a great picture, but you can see him slipping his hand inside your dad’s work bag and dropping something in. When he pulled it back, he tucked a handkerchief into his pocket.”
“That he’d wrapped around the pill bottle to keep his fingerprints off of it,” Andrea said.
Lina nodded. “We didn’t bring this up in the room, but in addition to the money trail they found to Holly and a similar trail to a PI he used to dig into my dad, the FBI is combing through Craig’s communications. They’re still going through things, but they’ve already found emails from four years ago—ones he sent to your father from his private accounts—trying to dissuade Arthur from going public or acknowledging the possible connection between Project 62 and DIC.” She hesitated, choosing her words. “They aren’t exactly friendly.”
A heavy silence filled the room, then Lina took a deep breath and stood. “I’m sorry about your father. The next few months aren’t going to be easy on you…”
“But like I said,” Jennifer said, rising. Andrea and Chris rose as well, taking positions on either side of their sister. “We’ll face this together. The way Mom and Dad would have wanted us to.”
Lina nodded, and before they left to catch their flight back to the West Coast, gave all three siblings her phone number. Callie would keep them updated on the official investigation and charges, but if they needed someone to talk to, she made sure they knew they could call her anytime.
The Caines shed more than a few tears as they said their goodbyes. The future of Navios was uncertain, and the road would not be an easy one, but Lina had given them the chance to right the wrongs of the past—both Craig’s and those from Project 62—and each of them saw it as a way to honor their father and what he stood for.
With no direct flights between Raleigh and Mystery Lake, Roxanne had called in a favor, and a private plane waited to take them home. Well, his home. Hopefully, soon to be Lina’s, too.
As soon as they were airborne, Viper poured them both another drink before sprawling on the couch beside Lina.
“I didn’t do anything other than sit beside you and look intimidating, and I’m exhausted,” he said.
Lina chuckled, clinked her glass to his, then took a sip as she tucked her legs under her and leaned against him. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he tugged her close, dropping a kiss on her head when she set it on his shoulder.
“Don’t underestimate the energy it takes to look intimidating when really, you’re a marshmallow.” She poked his side, then added, “Well, emotionally, anyway.”
He sighed. “I’ll have you know, my nickname among the terrorist cells we wiped out was da shpee qasab .”
She rolled her head and looked up at him. “Night butcher?”
He nodded. “And not because I always came at night,” he said, tapping his forearm. He wasn’t the darkest of Black men, but he was dark enough that those he and his team hunted had likened him to the night. He didn’t mind.
“Now you’re just trying to impress me,” she said, not bothering to hide the snicker in her voice.
He thought about making a prurient comment in response, but the plane hit a bump, and both of them braced their bodies—and drinks—against the jolt.
“Well, that was exciting,” Lina said, settling back into his side. The pilot came on over the intercom and apologized for the unexpected bounce before assuring them they’d cleared the area, and he expected a smooth ride for the rest of the trip.
“Whatever shall we do?” Lina looked up at him again and dramatically batted her eyelashes as her free hand slid over his thigh.
“You’re a goof,” he said.
“Sometimes. But you love me anyway,” she said before taking a sip of scotch. A half a second passed before her eyes bugged out and she choked on her drink as she realized the words she’d used.
Viper barked a laugh, and she glared at him through her coughing fit, making him laugh even more. “You could help me,” she wheezed.
“What would you like? A pound on the back? A glass of water? For me to tell you you’re right?”
She jerked up, sliding out from under his arm, although her hand still rested on his thigh. “That’s a joke, right?” she said, her cough suddenly forgotten.
He took a deep breath. “It’s not.” The uncertainty he’d felt a week ago had slid silently away over the past several days, and he had no doubts anymore.
Her dark red-amber eyes searched his. She understood what it meant that he said it before her—that he hadn’t waited for her to choose him first. And she proved it with her next words. “You are the most courageous man I know.” She reached up and ran her fingers along his cheek. “That could not have been easy for you to say.”
He took her hand in his and kissed her fingers. “Actually, it wasn’t hard at all. You have a way of making me feel…safe. Secure and grounded. But also free and somehow, lighter.” He frowned. “Those aren’t the sexiest words or the most flattering?—”
She cut him off with a kiss. He didn’t hesitate to set his drink down, sink his hands into her hair, angle her exactly where he wanted, and show her what she meant to him.
Minutes, or maybe hours later, she pulled back, but only far enough to look him in the eye. “Those words have meaning, Jackson. They have strength and resilience and endurance.”
“They are all about me, though,” he said. “About how you make me feel.”
“Which is important.”
He nodded, his forehead brushing against hers. “It is, but this isn’t only about me. There are two of us here, in this relationship. Whatever it is you need from me, from us, I want you to have it. I want to give it to you, to the extent I can.”
Her gaze softened. “You already do. I trust you with all that I am—with my joys, my sorrows, my questions, my frustrations. Everything. You challenge me when I need it, you support me when I’m uncertain…you allow me to be uncertain without making me feel like a failure. You’re more patient than a Clippers fan when it comes to my advanced level delayed-processing skills.” He chuckled and she grinned. “I’m probably going to have a complete breakdown about my relationship with my father sometime in the next three to six months.”
He smiled. “I’m aware, yes.”
“It probably won’t be pretty. I don’t know for certain since, well, this will be my first foray into actively trying not to be so compartmentalized. It might come out in ways, like, maybe getting mad at you because you didn’t empty the dishwasher or fill the bird feeder.”
“I don’t have a bird feeder.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What kind of psycho doesn’t have a bird feeder?”
“The kind who has a balcony off his apartment that looks out to the forest where birds live and feed themselves.”
A beat passed. “I’m getting us a bird feeder.”
“And I will participate in ensuring it stays filled.”
She cupped his cheek, and he turned, brushing his lips over her palm.
“I’m moving to California, aren’t I?” she said.
“That bird feeder isn’t going to fill itself, and I do travel on occasion for Falcons business and won’t always be home.”
She leaned forward and kissed him again. This time, soft and sweet. “That you and your club help so many people who can’t help themselves is one of the many reasons I love you.”
He’d been prepared to be okay if she didn’t say it back, but the moment she did, emotion rolled through him like a category five hurricane. Unable to handle the power her words packed, he slammed his mouth onto hers.
And didn’t stop worshiping her—them—until the pilot gently pointed out that they’d landed, and the couple might want to dress.