job at hand.
Her eyes shifted toward him. “I want to see the file, Alex.”
“There isn’t a file yet. Warren is going through the proper channels to try to get it to me.” He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side of the truck. He got in and fired up the engine, grateful that the drive wasn’t a long one.
“Fine. I want to know what you’ve discovered. Is he in the States?”
This was the last conversation he wanted to have, but she had to know at some point in time. “I think he’s a regular visitor. He seems to be setting up some kind of business connections here, a series of clubs that he’s using to sell drugs through.”
“He’s probably using the clubs to launder the money, too,” Eve said, her eyes on the road ahead of them. “And he would also see them as another form of the commune he had built up. He very likely has a female in every one.”
She sounded like they were talking about a regular case, but every time he glanced over at her, he could see the scar on her neck. It was the worst of her scars. That cut had been deep and was still thick on her skin, but there were more scars on her back and belly. They were faint now, faded to whispery white lines, but he remembered them fresh and bloody.
“Eve, you don’t have to do this. I’m checking out the source tonight. If she checks out, I’m going to Florida to see this club for myself.”
“She?” The question was coated in ice.
At least she could still feel a little jealous. “Yes. Her name is Kristen, and she’s an investigative reporter. She’s just a source, angel. She’s tied Evans to narcoterrorists in South America.”
“Why doesn’t she call the feds?”
“Because they can’t work as quietly as I can and they don’t have the same stake in this.”
“Oh, so the people with stakes in a case should be the ones working it? Excellent. I’ll be going to Florida with you then,” she explained, her mouth in a stubborn line.
“Absolutely not.” He didn’t want her on the same continent with Evans much less the same city. “Eve, be reasonable. It’s probably nothing. I’ll go to the club, check it out for a couple of days, and report back.”
But something told him this lead wasn’t nothing. Every instinct in his body told him that this was the lead he’d been waiting for and Evans was close. He just needed to get into the right place to lay in wait. Adam could bury faked records so Alex could pass any background checks. He would change his hair color and wear colored contacts. Most of the time, he would hide behind sunglasses. He was older now and his body bigger than it used to be. He spent more time in the weight room now than he used to. He could pass for long enough to get in the same room with Evans and after that, it wouldn’t matter if the fucker recognized him.
“Would it change anything if I asked you not to go?” Eve asked in a perfectly calm voice, as though the outcome didn’t mean a thing to her.
He pulled up to a stoplight. “Why would you do that?”
“Because we can’t move on if you keep bringing Evans in between us.”
“What?”
She smoothed down her skirt even though it didn’t have a wrinkle on it. “He’s always there.”
“Because you can’t forget,” Alex replied, his voice low and sympathetic. “I understand that, angel. You’ll be able to sleep at night if I can take him out.”
She laughed, a deeply bitter sound. “I’m not the one obsessed with Michael Evans.”
He felt his jaw clench, his fists tightening on the steering wheel as he eased the truck forward and turned onto the freeway. Downtown was in front of him, the Omni hotel blinking its symphony of lights as day began to turn to evening. They were surrounded by concrete and facades and lights. He glanced at the sidewalks with their small patches of perfectly kept grass in neat little boxes. The late-afternoon commuters hustled to get to their train stops or parking lots. They were
Her eyes shifted toward him. “I want to see the file, Alex.”
“There isn’t a file yet. Warren is going through the proper channels to try to get it to me.” He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side of the truck. He got in and fired up the engine, grateful that the drive wasn’t a long one.
“Fine. I want to know what you’ve discovered. Is he in the States?”
This was the last conversation he wanted to have, but she had to know at some point in time. “I think he’s a regular visitor. He seems to be setting up some kind of business connections here, a series of clubs that he’s using to sell drugs through.”
“He’s probably using the clubs to launder the money, too,” Eve said, her eyes on the road ahead of them. “And he would also see them as another form of the commune he had built up. He very likely has a female in every one.”
She sounded like they were talking about a regular case, but every time he glanced over at her, he could see the scar on her neck. It was the worst of her scars. That cut had been deep and was still thick on her skin, but there were more scars on her back and belly. They were faint now, faded to whispery white lines, but he remembered them fresh and bloody.
“Eve, you don’t have to do this. I’m checking out the source tonight. If she checks out, I’m going to Florida to see this club for myself.”
“She?” The question was coated in ice.
At least she could still feel a little jealous. “Yes. Her name is Kristen, and she’s an investigative reporter. She’s just a source, angel. She’s tied Evans to narcoterrorists in South America.”
“Why doesn’t she call the feds?”
“Because they can’t work as quietly as I can and they don’t have the same stake in this.”
“Oh, so the people with stakes in a case should be the ones working it? Excellent. I’ll be going to Florida with you then,” she explained, her mouth in a stubborn line.
“Absolutely not.” He didn’t want her on the same continent with Evans much less the same city. “Eve, be reasonable. It’s probably nothing. I’ll go to the club, check it out for a couple of days, and report back.”
But something told him this lead wasn’t nothing. Every instinct in his body told him that this was the lead he’d been waiting for and Evans was close. He just needed to get into the right place to lay in wait. Adam could bury faked records so Alex could pass any background checks. He would change his hair color and wear colored contacts. Most of the time, he would hide behind sunglasses. He was older now and his body bigger than it used to be. He spent more time in the weight room now than he used to. He could pass for long enough to get in the same room with Evans and after that, it wouldn’t matter if the fucker recognized him.
“Would it change anything if I asked you not to go?” Eve asked in a perfectly calm voice, as though the outcome didn’t mean a thing to her.
He pulled up to a stoplight. “Why would you do that?”
“Because we can’t move on if you keep bringing Evans in between us.”
“What?”
She smoothed down her skirt even though it didn’t have a wrinkle on it. “He’s always there.”
“Because you can’t forget,” Alex replied, his voice low and sympathetic. “I understand that, angel. You’ll be able to sleep at night if I can take him out.”
She laughed, a deeply bitter sound. “I’m not the one obsessed with Michael Evans.”
He felt his jaw clench, his fists tightening on the steering wheel as he eased the truck forward and turned onto the freeway. Downtown was in front of him, the Omni hotel blinking its symphony of lights as day began to turn to evening. They were surrounded by concrete and facades and lights. He glanced at the sidewalks with their small patches of perfectly kept grass in neat little boxes. The late-afternoon commuters hustled to get to their train stops or parking lots. They were
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