Chapters (61)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- CONTENTS
- START READING
- PART ONE
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- PART TWO
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- PART THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“I mean it’s gone. Cleaned out. Overnight.” Mike described the way he’d found the offices. “Place was stripped right down to the baseboards.”
“Where’s George?”
“Arrested. The feds have him. It’s a real mess.”
So it was the FBI. At least now she knew why George had sounded the alarm. Did Meiji also trigger the dismantling of the offices? If so, it was news to her.
“Where are they holding him?”
“I’m not sure. Not sure George knows, to tell the truth. I just got off the phone with him.”
“You talked to him?” Jenn was sitting forward now.
“Yeah, the feds let him make a call. He didn’t sound good. The feds want everything we have on Suzanne Lombard by today, or they’re dropping the hammer on George.”
“Christ.”
“He’s calling me back in an hour. What do we have?”
Jenn ran her tongue over her teeth, deliberating. “You got something to write with?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Gibson sat on the edge of the bathtub, feeding Billy tuna from a can. Hendricks refused to uncuff him, so it was slow and messy going. Billy hadn’t asked to go to the bathroom yet, but Gibson wasn’t optimistic about how that would go. Billy was trying to be cooperative but clearly remained afraid and angry. Being handcuffed to a toilet didn’t help any with morale.
“I feel like a child,” Billy said.
“Yeah, but that makes me your daddy, and I’m not cool with that.”
Billy cracked a weak grin that turned serious. “Are they going to kill me?”
“They’ll have to kill me first.”
“Is your dying seconds before me supposed to make me feel better about being dead?”
It was Gibson’s turn to grin weakly. “Thought that counts?”
His gallows humor wasn’t helping.
“Man, get me out of here.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Yeah? Well work faster, okay? ’Cause me? I’m handcuffed to a fucking toilet.”
Gibson hadn’t talked to Jenn or Hendricks since their debrief this morning. Collectively they were all running on fumes, so giving each other a wide berth for a few hours seemed wise. Having Kirby Tate’s murder hanging over his head wasn’t doing wonders for Hendricks’s disposition, and for once Gibson could empathize with him. A little. But if Hendricks laid a hand on Billy, then they would be at a crossroads. The memory of Kirby Tate’s cell remained too vivid for comfort.
But so far this afternoon, Jenn and Hendricks had been occupied with Mike Rilling back in DC. Apparently, George was in federal custody, and they were trying to orchestrate a deal for his release—information for immunity.