21. Jezebel

CHAPTER 21

JEZEBEL

W hoever invented the dark web should be shot.

No, shooting was too good for them. Make it hung, drawn, and quartered.

T-Rex’s login details checked out, and Echo had control of his account now. He’d contracted with a user named AceInTheHole and was due to be paid five thousand bucks upon confirmation that the job had been carried out. T-Rex—whose name was actually Dylan—had admitted he was supposed to take a picture of me after he’d roughed me up. His phone had been broken during the fight, but we’d retrieved the SIM card and obtained details of his identity through that.

“Ace in the hole” was a poker reference—another possible clue. Had any players lost their shirts at the poker tables in the Galaxy recently? We’d passed the information we’d gleaned to Ari for follow-up. Predictably, she hadn’t been impressed with our methods, but we’d gotten further than she had, so tough shit. As for T-Rex, he was still in the basement, now chained by the ankle, and that was where he’d stay until this was over. We couldn’t risk him talking. I was ninety-nine percent sure he’d keep his head down, but why take a chance on the remaining one percent?

“Cheer up,” Marcel said, taking a tray of cookies out of the oven. “I thought you caught the slimeball you were looking for?”

“Not yet.”

“Then who’s the gentleman with the tiny hands in the holding cell?”

“Tell me you didn’t go and talk to him.”

“Ugh, no. I saw him on-screen in the security room.”

“He’s just a foot soldier. We’re still looking for the person who hired him.”

“Bummer. Cookie?”

“Do they contain weed?”

“No, only raisins.”

“In that case…” I held out a plate. “I’ll take a couple.” Marcel used tongs, and I ended up with three. I picked one up, blew on it, and still burned the roof of my mouth. “Fuck.”

He pointed to the swear jar, which was more of a bucket really, and I tossed in a purple poker chip from the stack beside it. Two years ago, after Spider went on an expletive-ridden tirade whilst unknowingly being within earshot of Marcel’s uptight soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, Marcel had introduced a new rule. We could swear as much as we liked, but every time we did, we had to put a buck in the kitty so he could indulge in a little retail therapy after his next breakup. We used the poker chips as IOUs because who carried that much cash around? Last year, he’d used the proceeds to buy a BMW.

“Did you do the right thing and call your boyfriend yet?” he asked.

“Please, don’t start.”

Ari had secured the use of a property in McNeil, and Sin had offered to stay there, just in case the shit hit the fan before Cole left the country. As for Cole himself, he’d texted me several more times today, but the messages were tailing off. Good. I simply wanted to find AceInTheHole, break his spine, and get on with the rest of my life. Thanks to that prick, I’d already wasted four hours at the hospital this morning because Doc Martinsson insisted on a CT scan to see whether I’d done any further damage to my leg when I cracked the cast. I hadn’t, thank fuck. He’d given me a new cast and a lecture and then grudgingly let me go with instructions to come back next week for a checkup.

I checked my watch. In a few minutes, I’d leave to have lunch with Ari and discuss the case. Seeing as Ari was staying at the Galaxy and I had to avoid the place, we’d decided to get together at the Black Diamond. Meanwhile, her buddy Lila was helping to trawl through the Galaxy’s accounting system—Ari swore Lila knew how to keep her mouth shut—and Erin was working another case. Something to do with Ari trading investigative assistance for access to a primo surveillance spot.

Anyhow, the Black Diamond served excellent food, so maybe I should only eat one cookie? My gym use had been patchy for the past month, and now that energetic sex was no longer on the agenda, I’d have to watch my waistline.

“I’m only saying it because I care,” Marcel said. “Did you know Cole was homecoming king in high school?”

“Who the hell told you that?” And more to the point, why would I care?

He put a finger to his lips. “My sources are confidential. And you owe a buck for swearing.”

“‘Hell’ isn’t swearing, and stop poking around in my?—”

“Jezebel,” Priest warned. He’d arrived back late last night, thankfully without another wedding ring.

“Tell Marcel to keep his nose out of my business.”

Priest didn’t. Instead, he nodded toward the door and said, “We need to talk. ”

A shiver ran through me at his tone. Didn’t he understand that my actions in the diner had been entirely justifiable? If I hadn’t taken T-Rex out, he would have done more than squeeze my throat; he’d admitted as much.

I followed Priest to his office, and he closed the door behind us. The windows overlooked the pool, complete with its waterfall, swim-up bar, and phallic water slide installed by the estate’s former owner. You climbed up steps cut into the giant testicles, and then you slid down the dick. We’d considered remodelling or even removing the thing, but in the end, we’d decided to just own it. If people were busy looking at an enormous cock, they failed to notice the hidden cameras dotted around the place.

“There’s a problem,” he said.

“The thing in Colombia? There’s not much I can do about that right now.”

The intel had come in early this morning. A known arms dealer had been spotted at a hotel in Medellin, and we needed to find out what he was up to. He could simply be on vacation, but there had been rumours of weapons making their way to US soil from the area, and nobody wanted to take that chance.

“Not the Colombia thing. We passed that to another team.”

“What team?”

“Contractors.”

Which undoubtedly meant Blackwood Security. My annoyance was irrational, I knew that—the Choir couldn’t do everything—but we were the ones who’d gotten the intel. It was Sin’s network that had cultivated the asset who’d spotted the man.

“So why am I here?”

“Demelza.”

Priest ran our team, but Demelza held the purse strings. She sat in a dark corner of the Pentagon, and while she fought our battles in DC, she also had a tendency to see things in black and white rather than the many shades of grey our world was made up of.

“What does she want?”

“She’s concerned about you.”

“Me? Why?”

Priest waved a hand up and down. “The crutches. The stitches. The bruises.”

“That’s all in a day’s work.”

“The crutches, she was okay with. You defended yourself against a credible threat. The bar fight…” He made a face. “She wasn’t impressed. You were supposed to be on R&R.”

“I was on R&R. It wasn’t my fault there was a drunk lunatic in the bar.”

Priest ignored that. “And then you showed up at the hospital again .”

“My cast was faulty.”

“You told Doc Martinsson it broke when it collided with a man’s face.”

“And it should have been able to withstand that kind of pressure.”

“The radiographer who performed your CT scan reported you were covered in bruises. You look as if someone tried to strangle you.”

“That was incidental.”

“It still went on your medical report.”

In some ways, my life was incredibly private. I lived on the edge of society, I had few friends and a dozen identities, and if any mention of me popped up online, Echo scrubbed it. Working for Uncle Sam meant I could slip in and out of the country unnoticed, and I had enough money to cover my tracks should I wish to disappear completely.

But for the moment, thanks to my job, I was stuck with Demelza .

She viewed herself as the boss, but really, our relationship was more symbiotic—we cleaned up her messes, and she cleaned up ours. Because she controlled our budget, she knew a lot about us, although not as much as she liked to think.

And we knew plenty about her.

Full name, address, marital status, favourite shampoo, the fact that she was fucking a landscaper ten years younger than she was. She had no idea how deep we’d dug.

If Demelza ever betrayed us, we’d pay a visit to her cosy little townhouse near the Potomac, and we’d show her the error of her ways. Bastian had taught me one important lesson: never trust a soul.

But I couldn’t toss Demelza out of the window for reading my medical report, although I was tempted to defenestrate Doc Martinsson for including irrelevant information. My leg was healing nicely. Why couldn’t he have left it at that?

“Fuck.”

Priest grinned. “If you want, I could set her straight. Let her know you enjoy being choked during sex.”

“Fuck you.”

“That would be inappropriate, given our professional relationship.”

He was enjoying this, wasn’t he?

“Fuck off.”

“No can do, Jezebel. Not until I’ve notified you of your next assignment.” Now he was trying not to laugh. “You’re going to take a vacation.”

“What?”

“The United States of America has invested a great deal of time and money in you, and you’re not—and I quote—going to throw it all in the trash just because boredom chips away at your self-control. ”

“No way. I’m in the middle of a job.” Okay, so it was an unpaid job, but it was still important. “And I am taking it easy.”

“Your colleagues are more than capable of handling the Galaxy case, and I understand Ari is working on the investigation side of things.”

“Can’t you tell Demelza to back off?”

“No, because I agree with her. You haven’t taken a vacation since you joined the Choir.”

“But—”

“No buts. I don’t care where you go, but by this time tomorrow, I want you out of Nevada. Go relax on a beach somewhere until your leg finishes healing.”

“I can’t go relax on a beach somewhere. Doc Martinsson said I need another checkup next week.”

“You’ll be delighted to hear that Demelza has spoken with him, and it seems the checkup was more of a precaution to make sure you’re not doing anything inappropriate.” Priest fixed his gaze on me. “Such as investigating threats against a local hotelier, for example. The doc has agreed the checkup can wait as long as you’re taking the R&R seriously.”

“You don’t understand. I need to find the person who has Cole in their sights.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust the rest of the team to finish the job?”

“No, but?—”

“Remember to wear sunscreen, and try not to get alcohol poisoning.”

“Sometimes, you can be a real asshole.”

Priest merely grinned. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“This is crazy. Take a fucking vacation? Demelza and Priest have both lost their minds.”

“It isn’t a terrible idea.”

What? Echo was supposed to be on my side.

“Are you kidding? Did Priest get to you?”

“No, I just see the benefits of taking a break.”

“That’s rich, coming from a workaholic.”

“A workaholic who ate breakfast on a terrace overlooking the ocean, then watched two episodes of The Big Bang Theory before she started work. Oh, and I’m learning to crochet.”

“Crochet? Fucking crochet?”

“It’s relaxing. Do you even have a hobby?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

“I like shooting. And going to the gym.”

“That’s work. You’ve been doing it for so long that you can’t even tell the difference.”

Could Echo be right? Maybe there was a tiny element of truth in her words. Several times, I’d considered taking a trip, but something else always came up. Sniping, spying, a last-minute assassination.

“Why can’t they delay the vacation by a few weeks?”

“Hello? You have a broken leg. Look, Chase and I are down in the Keys this week. Why don’t you come stay? You can help with the cyber side of the investigation by looking over my shoulder and making annoying comments the way you always do.”

“I’d rather stay here.”

There was a case to close. Until yesterday, Ari had been cataloguing the life and times of Shane Wallins, but last night’s revelations from Dylan had turned that lead to ash. Ari wasn’t going to find whoever had hired the asshole by staking out second-rate bars or talking to old acquaintances—he’d probably just logged on to the dark net from his mom’s basement. Anyhow, the ball had bounced into Echo’s court. Hmm. If I was in Florida, I’d have a front-row seat to every twist and turn of the investigation, plus I could stop Chase from wasting her time with massages. And once I knew who to shoot, I could fly right back to Las Vegas.

“C’mon, Chase needs a dive buddy,” Echo said. “He went out with a group from the local scuba school yesterday—one woman slowed things up by taking pictures of everything , and three others tried to chase a turtle. Chase said he almost turned off their air, and coming from him, that’s a lot.”

It was. Chase was one of those rare guys who managed to be super nice without getting creepy about it. Honestly, I didn’t want to leave Vegas, but if it came down to a straight-up battle against Priest and Demelza, there would only be one loser. I wasn’t stupid enough to think there could be any other result, especially if the other girls ganged up on me the way Echo had.

And if I had to take a vacay, I’d rather spend time with Echo than anyone else. At least she didn’t talk constantly or insist on visiting local attractions.

“Fine. I’ll book a flight.”

“No, I’ll book the flight. You’re meant to be relaxing, remember?”

“Make it business class.”

I didn’t need to be arrested for stuffing a sock in a small child’s mouth before I made it to Miami.

“That’s a given.”