Silver Spring, Maryland,
Wednesday 15 June, 10.00 A.M.
Thorne stared at the small drapery shop that doubled as home to the older sister of Colton Brandenberg, one of Richard Linden’s posse. The one who’d most surprised him when they’d beaten him up nineteen years ago. The one who’d all but disappeared after high school graduation.
‘What’s wrong?’ Gwyn asked quietly from the passenger seat.
‘I’m . . . nervous,’ Thorne admitted. He glanced into the rear-view mirror of the SUV that had been waiting outside Gwyn’s condo when they’d come downstairs to meet JD. The SUV was one of Joseph’s personal vehicles, and the Fed had asked Thorne and Gwyn to use it until this whole nightmare was over. With bullet-resistant windows and door panels, it was a gift worth its weight in gold.
JD, appointed their personal guardian for the duration, pulled up behind them in another of Joseph’s SUVs. He didn’t get out, waiting instead for Thorne.
Reaching over the center console, Gwyn tapped Thorne’s arm. ‘Why are you nervous?’
‘Well, for starters, I’m worried she’ll be dead.’
‘That’s actually fair. Why else?’
He sighed. ‘Colton Brandenberg and I were friends once. I’d just started at Ridgewell and so had he. We were both new kids. We both played soccer and we both liked science class.’
‘I thought you liked history and music.’
He shrugged. ‘I liked everything. And I knew I had to nail all the science classes if I wanted a scholarship. Colton was better at it than I was and my old school hadn’t been as good as Ridgewell. I was behind. He tutored me until I caught up. Then in our sophomore year, he joined Richard’s posse. I don’t know why or how. Richard was pretty selective in who he let into his circle.’
‘Like Mean Girls, but with boys?’
‘Exactly. Even after he joined Richard, though, he wasn’t an asshole to me. Not until that day at school.’
‘When you dragged Richard off Angie.’
‘Right. I don’t know if Richard threw any actual punches, but he did kick me a few times. Colton threw some punches. Darian threw the first punch. Caught me in the jaw. Chandler, the one who’s a cop now, he got in the second, an uppercut that had me biting into my tongue and spitting blood everywhere. And it was probably Chandler who did the most damage to my knee. But it was Colton who broke my nose that day. I remember lying on the floor of the hallway, just staring up at him as he lit into me. I was . . . I don’t know. Stunned.’
‘Betrayed,’ Gwyn murmured.
‘Yes. That too. That more, in fact. I don’t know what to make of the fact that he disappeared.’
‘Or that he seemed to be a zombie when he testified at your trial?’
‘I don’t remember that,’ he confessed. ‘I just remember wondering what I’d done to make him hate me as much as he’d seemed to that day. Because it wasn’t just aggression, not like it was with Darian and Chandler. They were bullies. They’d have beaten up anyone that Richard told them to beat up. Colton seemed to hate me.’
She gave his arm a squeeze. ‘Let’s go talk to the sister. Maybe she can shed some light on it. Plus, we’re kind of sitting ducks here.’
He jerked his head up, unable to believe that he’d forgotten to be careful. ‘JD must be wondering if I’m insane.’
‘I think he’s known the answer to that for a long time.’ She unbuckled her seat belt. ‘He loves you anyway.’ She leaned in to kiss his cheek. ‘And before you ask, I love you too. Now move it, big guy.’
Smiling now, he got out of the SUV and helped her down. She was significantly shorter today, having substituted her customary heels with running shoes at his request. Just in case.
‘Everything okay?’ JD asked cautiously as he approached them.
‘Yeah. Just hoping everybody in there is breathing,’ Thorne said.
JD grimaced in commiseration. ‘Let’s go make sure.’
The three of them marched to the shop’s front door, which sported a colorful sign proclaiming: Creations by Christina. In the window was a mannequin wearing a beautiful lace wedding gown. A smaller sign at the mannequin’s feet read: Custom Designs Available On Request.
Gwyn whistled softly. ‘If she designed that gown, she’s as talented as Prew’s wife said.’ She looked up at Thorne and JD, frowning when she had to crane her head back farther than usual. ‘Who’s on point?’
‘Not me,’ JD said. ‘I’m here as your friend only. No official capacity.’
‘I can pretend to be a customer,’ Gwyn said. ‘Like I did with Angie.’
‘No, I’ll be on point,’ Thorne said. ‘Worst that can happen is that she tells me to go to hell.’
He knocked on the door, but nobody answered. Tugging on the handle, he found it unlocked. Because it’s a business, idiot. He opened the door and entered first, pausing in the doorway to make sure it was clear before gesturing Gwyn and JD inside, where a country music radio station warred with the whir of a sewing machine. The front of the shop was all fabric and big books of patterns and dressmaker’s dummies in various stages of dress. An open doorway led to another room, presumably the sewing area.
‘Hello?’ Thorne called, and the sewing machine whir immediately ceased. A few seconds later, the radio was switched off and a woman came to the doorway. She was tall and thin, her dark brown hair streaked with silver.
Christina Brandenberg, Colton’s sister. She’d graduated four years ahead of them, so Thorne hadn’t known her in school. But he remembered her from the times he’d hung out at Colton’s house, before Colton had been absorbed into Richard’s circle of friends.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked warily.
‘I hope so,’ Thorne said. ‘Do you remember me?’
She lifted her gaze to his face for a few moments without registering any shock, then closed her eyes. ‘Of course. Tommy White. Although you don’t go by that name anymore.’
‘No. I don’t. Look, I don’t mean to bother you, but I’m looking for some information and it might involve your brother.’
She lifted her hand like a traffic cop. ‘He’s not here and I do not know where he is. I can’t help you, so if you’d see yourselves out, I have work to do.’ She started to turn, but Gwyn took a step forward and briefly touched her arm.
‘Wait, please. Your brother could be in danger.’
Christina froze. ‘I told you, I don’t know where he is. I have no contact information for him.’
Gwyn nodded. ‘I hear you. But have you seen the news?’
‘Who are you?’ Christina asked, narrowing her eyes.
‘My name is Gwyn Weaver, and this is our friend JD Fitzpatrick. I’m . . . Well, Thorne is our friend. My priority right now is to clear his name.’
‘Then you have quite a task ahead of you. Murder isn’t an easy charge to skirt.’
‘I know,’ Thorne said carefully. ‘I’ve already done it once.’
Christina looked away. ‘I know. But I can’t help you this time.’
This time? Thorne wanted to ask what she meant by that, but Gwyn took another step forward because Christina had turned to go a second time.
‘I’m sorry,’ Gwyn said, ‘but I can’t just walk away without at least asking a few questions and properly warning you. We went to see Darian Hinman yesterday. He was one of your brother’s friends, and they were all friends of Richard Linden nineteen years ago. Darian was dead when we got there. He’d been dead for days and Thorne has an unshakable alibi for the time of the murder. He was with a group that includes a Baltimore homicide detective and the senior assistant state’s attorney.’
‘That has nothing to do with my brother,’ Christina said, but her eyes flickered nervously.
‘You could be right,’ Gwyn said, ‘but we don’t think you are. Richard Linden’s sister was killed shortly after Darian Hinman, just hours apart. There are indications that the same man did it. Someone is killing people now who were connected to Richard Linden then. Your brother was connected to him then.’
Christina swayed as all the color drained from her face. She put a hand against the frame of the open doorway to steady herself. ‘Oh. Well.’ She huffed out a breath that sounded far more afraid than dismissive. ‘I still don’t know what any of this has to do with Colton. He left the state after his graduation. He hasn’t come back. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave now.’
Gwyn started to say more, but Thorne lightly gripped her elbow and tugged her back against him. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘We’ll go.’ He pulled a business card from his wallet and left it on her counter. ‘My cell number is on there. If you think of anything, or if anyone bothers you, please call me.’ He took a step toward the door, Gwyn in tow. ‘And you should lock your door. I know you’re a place of business, but the people behind this aren’t playing around. They’re snipping off loose ends, and eight people are already dead, two of them just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Please be careful.’
The three of them left, closing the door. Thorne heard a distinct click as Christina locked it behind them.
‘At least she listened to you,’ JD said as he walked Thorne and Gwyn to their borrowed SUV. He looked over his shoulder. ‘She’s watching us. What’ll you bet she’s on the phone with her little brother right now?’
‘I hope so,’ Thorne murmured. ‘And I hope she’s careful.’
JD clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You warned her. That’s all you can do. Where to?’
Thorne made a face. ‘Chandler Nystrom, former cop turned personal security officer.’
‘Mall cop?’ JD asked.
Gwyn shook her head. ‘No. Anne, our receptionist, was able to find his work information. He was most recently employed by Hinman Enterprises, after being relieved of duty by Howard County PD, where he went after being relieved of duty by Montgomery County PD.’
‘He works for Darian Hinman’s father,’ Thorne clarified. ‘He’s a security guard in their building downtown.’
‘They’re open for business?’ JD asked, surprised. ‘Darian’s body was found not even twenty-four hours ago.’
Thorne shrugged. ‘Jamie called the front desk to ask if they were receiving deliveries. They said they had business hours as usual.’
‘Then I guess I’ll follow you there,’ JD said.
Chevy Chase, Maryland,
Wednesday 15 June, 11.00 A.M.
‘I don’t think this is going to end well,’ JD muttered from behind Gwyn as Thorne pushed through the door into the building bearing Hinman Enterprises’ name.
‘I’m thinking you’re right.’ Positioned between them, she felt slightly claustrophobic, but she had a view of Thorne’s back muscles flexing as he opened the door, and that was a silver lining.
The doors were draped with black, the mood of the lobby somber. The place was nearly all marble – the floors, the columns, even the walls. The building alone had to have cost a fucking fortune. But it was nearly silent, only whispers bouncing off the walls. It was like an opulent library.
Thorne tucked her against his side as soon as they were through the door. ‘Old money,’ he leaned down to whisper in her ear. ‘Lots of it.’
‘I figured that out,’ she whispered back. ‘Which one is Chandler Nystrom?’
Thorne paused to look around, and almost immediately saw the former cop. ‘That’s him, heading our way.’
Dressed in an ill-fitting uniform, Nystrom looked out of place in the lavish lobby. His face was as dark as a storm cloud.
Squaring his shoulders, Thorne pulled Gwyn closer. JD just sighed.
Chandler Nystrom had the build of an athlete who’d allowed his body to go to seed. His face was florid, broken capillaries criss-crossing his nose.
He’s a heavy drinker, was Gwyn’s first thought. She wondered why that was. He stopped in front of them and she was gratified to see that Thorne was easily eight inches taller. Maybe ten.
She was more gratified to see the flicker of apprehension in Nystrom’s eyes as he had to look up to see Thorne’s face. He was nervous. Good. He should be.
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ Nystrom hissed.
Thorne didn’t blink, didn’t back down. But the hand he had on her back tensed. ‘I’ve come to talk to you.’
Nystrom’s face grew redder with fury. ‘Well, you can just get out. Now. You have one hell of a lot of nerve. First you kill Richard, then Patricia, and then you just “happen” to find Darian’s body. You should be locked up.’
To look at Thorne’s face, one would never know he was affected by the words, but his hand on Gwyn’s back twitched, tightening on the fabric of her blouse. Still, he met the man’s angry gaze steadily.
‘I haven’t killed anyone. You know that now. And you knew it then too.’
Bleary eyes narrowed. ‘You are full of shit, White. You always were.’
Again Thorne let the insult fly by. ‘You’re so upset by Patricia’s death,’ he said calmly. ‘I wonder why you weren’t more upset that she’d been raped by her brother when she was still in high school.’
The color drained from Nystrom’s face and his mouth fell open. It took him ten full seconds to regain his composure enough to stammer, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
Thorne’s hand relaxed on Gwyn’s back. ‘I don’t know how you lasted as long on the police force as you did. Suspects must have had your number in a heartbeat. Your poker face is non-existent.’
Nystrom’s nostrils flared, his rage returning. ‘Fuck you, White.’
‘Why did Richard’s killer put his key ring in his body?’ Thorne asked quietly, and once again Nystrom was struck silent for long seconds.
‘There was no key ring,’ he finally said stiffly. ‘But you should know, since you killed him.’ Thorne simply looked at him, and Nystrom grew fidgety. ‘I said, get out. I will call the cops on you.’ He stomped past them to open the door, glaring daggers at them. ‘Out. This is private property and you are trespassing.’
‘All right,’ Thorne answered, never losing his cool. Gwyn felt a swell of pride at his self-control, because she knew this had not been an easy confrontation. The last time he’d seen this man was in court as Nystrom testified against him on a murder charge. The time before that, he’d seen Nystrom’s boot as he’d kicked his head.
The three of them turned to leave, JD and Gwyn having said not a single word to the man. Thorne paused at the door and gave Nystrom his card. ‘Be careful,’ he said. ‘Somebody is snipping off loose ends. Don’t think they don’t know who you are, even if they haven’t revealed themselves to you.’
Sneering, Nystrom ripped the card into tiny pieces, tossing them out the door with great drama. They caught on the light breeze and scattered, falling to the grass outside. ‘Fuck off, White.’
Thorne gave him a single nod and walked out, tucking Gwyn’s arm through his, keeping his steps slow so that she didn’t have to run to keep up. But they paused to listen when JD stopped in the doorway and handed Nystrom another card.
‘I’m not here in an official capacity,’ JD said quietly, ‘but my boss said to give you his card. If you need help or think of anything that could be helpful, please call him. It’s Lieutenant Hyatt. Two Ts.’
Nystrom’s eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Tell your boss that I don’t need his fucking help.’
‘He figured you’d say that,’ JD said companionably. ‘He asked me to tell you that he’s got eyes on you, and for you not to wait until it’s too late to call him. Your buddy was rotting by the time we found him.’ He smiled. ‘Have a nice day.’
He left the building and walked to where they’d parked the SUVs, leaving Gwyn and Thorne to follow in stunned silence.
‘What was that?’ Thorne exploded once they were at the vehicles.
‘Did Hyatt really say all that?’ Gwyn demanded.
‘He did. He’d checked into Nystrom for me. Couldn’t give me details, as the IA investigations are sealed, but he got enough dirt on the down-low to know Nystrom was going to be a problem. After Hinman was found last night, he told me to give Nystrom his personal message.’
‘Huh.’ It was all Gwyn could think to say. Maybe Hyatt wasn’t quite so bad. At least he was aiming his grandstanding at someone who deserved it this time.
‘Where to next?’ JD asked cheerfully.
‘You enjoyed that way too much,’ Thorne grumbled. ‘But I did too. We need to meet with Ming and Mowry to discuss the club. We’ve got employees who need to work.’
‘Maybe we can call for food delivery,’ JD suggested. ‘If we’ve hit a lull, we should eat. I don’t want a repeat of yesterday. I was hungry enough to eat the pizza and the boxes.’ He left them and got into his SUV.
Gwyn swung herself up into her own seat, then threw Thorne a sultry look when he slid behind the wheel. ‘I can think of a lot of other ways to spend the time,’ she said.
Thorne choked out a laugh. ‘You’re a tease.’
She sniffed, pretending to be offended. ‘I’m only a tease if I don’t deliver.’
Thorne put the SUV in gear. ‘We’ll make it a fast meeting.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Wednesday 15 June, 12.00 P.M.
Mowry was packed. Like, packed to move. Thorne frowned when he, Gwyn and JD entered his manager’s small apartment and saw boxes stacked against the wall. Some were labeled with rooms – kitchen, bedroom, bath – but some had names. He saw his name, Gwyn’s and Ming’s written in Mowry’s distinct handwriting.
‘Where do you want this?’ Thorne asked, lifting the takeout bags he’d picked up at the Ethiopian place they all liked. ‘And what’s with the boxes?’
Mowry closed the door behind them and gave JD a slightly irritated glare. ‘I’ll tell you later, Thorne. Put the food on the table. Ming’s getting plates.’
JD put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. ‘I can wait outside if you’ve got confidential business.’
Mowry shook his head. ‘No, it’s okay. Come in and eat. You’ll hear what I have to say soon enough anyway. I’ll tell these two, they’ll tell Lucy, then she’ll tell you. I might as well cut out the middleman.’
Thorne exchanged a glance with Gwyn, who looked as worried as he felt.
‘Hey, boss,’ Ming said when they got to the table. ‘And hey to you too, Thorne.’
‘No respect,’ Thorne complained without heat, bumping Ming’s fist when he held it out. The guy was every bit as big as Thorne. Maybe bigger. Ming was Samoan, his skin a shade more bronze than Thorne’s. Their size, similar ethnicity, and love of rugby had drawn them together years ago.
Gwyn drew Ming down to kiss his cheek, her smile strained. ‘So, you guys were okay yesterday. Pissed off, but okay. What’s happened since?’
‘Sit.’ Mowry took the chair at the head of the table. ‘Let’s take care of the easy stuff first. Ming and I went over the books.’
Ming snorted. ‘That wasn’t the easy part.’
Mowry handed him a styrofoam box. ‘Eat. I meant the easy part of the books. You know, the good news.’ He said the word sarcastically as he opened his own meal. ‘The part where we get to tell them we can only stay closed for another week before we run through our cash reserves. And that doesn’t count paychecks. The liquor distributor is already demanding his money. It’s not due until next week, but he’s afraid the cops will seize our assets.’ He shoved a bite of flatbread-wrapped beef into his mouth.
Gwyn’s eyes flittered closed for a few seconds. ‘That’s the good news?’
Mowry swallowed, nodding. ‘Yep.’
Thorne frowned. ‘We should have more cash than that.’ He’d been ready to front the paychecks, but he’d thought they’d be okay for longer than a week.
‘Part of the bad news,’ Ming said quietly. ‘About half the reserves have been siphoned off, all within the last two weeks.’ He glanced at Mowry. ‘The money had been funneled to petty cash and withdrawn.’
Gwyn closed her eyes again, shaking her head. ‘Fuck.’
‘Why fuck?’ JD asked.
‘Because Mowry handles petty cash,’ Thorne said grimly.
‘And because,’ Mowry added, his stress clear in his tone, ‘Mowry has been paying a member of the Circus Freaks gang for information about his band of brothers.’
‘Which is how we knew who to kick out Sunday night,’ Ming finished. ‘But it makes it look like Mowry has been stealing from the club.’
‘We know you haven’t,’ Thorne murmured. ‘Is that why you’re packed to run?’
Mowry cast another furtive look at JD, then sighed. ‘Shit. Look, as soon as I got arrested, I knew I was going to have to leave.’
‘Because of who you were before you came to Sheidalin,’ JD said levelly, rolling his eyes when Mowry’s own eyes popped wide with shock. ‘Did you think I didn’t check on you, Sheldon? On any of you who came in contact with Lucy, who got close enough to hurt her? After what we went through with Ev—’ He cut himself off. ‘Sorry, Gwyn.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said, but her cheeks bore the dark flush of embarrassment. ‘Did you know about me? About what Evan did?’
Ming tensed, and on a man that large it was a terrifying sight. ‘What did he do?’
Thorne gave him a slight shake of his head. ‘Later, man.’
Ming nodded, looking unhappy.
JD’s nod was even less happy. ‘I knew what you’d told them at the hospital and I knew that they did a kit anyway. I almost asked you about it, but it was your business. Your story to tell. I didn’t even tell Lucy.’ He winced. ‘She told me last night and she knew I wasn’t surprised. I can’t ever get anything past her. She gave me shit for not telling her, I’ll have you know.’
Thorne was torn between respect for the cop and the desire to tear JD’s arms off and beat him with them. He’d known. For four fucking years. He’d watched Gwyn stumble through her life like a zombie and he’d said nothing. I could have done something. I could have helped her.
He looked up when he felt Gwyn squeezing the hand he hadn’t realized he’d clenched into a fist. ‘It wouldn’t have mattered,’ she whispered, once again seeming to read his thoughts. ‘I wasn’t ready to deal with it yet. I had to do it on my own. So it turned out okay. Let it go, Thorne.’
Gritting his teeth, he nodded. ‘Okay. So you checked up on all of us, JD? Even me?’
JD met his eyes directly. Unapologetically. ‘Yes.’
And Thorne had to admit he would have done the same. But this wasn’t about him or Gwyn or even Evan. It was about Mowry, who looked ready to flee at any moment. ‘What did you find on Mowry?’
‘That he was a dumb-assed punk who played lookout for some dangerous men but turned them in when they robbed a store and killed the owner. He ran away with his guitar, his insides intact, and his head attached. And not a lot more. You met him when he came in to audition for the band shortly before you opened the club.’ JD’s smile was kind. ‘And you got him a new ID so that the thugs he’d turned on couldn’t find him, and gave him a new start.’
Mowry was staring at JD open-mouthed. Gwyn was staring at Thorne, her eyes soft. He’d never told her and he’d assumed she’d be angry to learn the truth so many years later, but he saw no anger. Only approval.
And because he wanted to drown in that approval but didn’t have the time, Thorne forced himself to turn back to JD, studying him skeptically. ‘How did you dig all that up?’
‘I’m a detective,’ JD said very slowly. ‘My job is detecting. I find stuff out about people. It’s what I do.’
Ming coughed to cover a laugh. ‘Sorry,’ he said when Thorne glared.
‘Yeah, yeah, I get that you’re all super-cop, but how?’
JD shrugged. ‘I got suspicious when Mowry just showed up in the system. Next time you build a new ID, give the person a backstory, for God’s sake. I started digging, asking questions here and there. It took me a while,’ he admitted. ‘It’s a good ID. If you’re worried that the cops are going to start investigating you, that’s unlikely. And if I get wind that they are, I’ll discourage it.’
‘Why?’ Mowry asked, clearly not buying JD’s helpfulness.
‘Because Lucy loves you like a brother. You’ve been good to her. And if that’s not a good enough reason, I’ll rent you a U-Haul truck and you can run.’
‘They will investigate, though,’ Ming insisted. ‘The money is gone.’
Gwyn was feverishly tapping on her phone, accessing the bank account. ‘Fuck,’ she hissed. ‘It really is gone, but as of today, not over the last couple of weeks.’
Ming looked over her shoulder at her phone. ‘Huh. The ledgers give the same balance, but show the money being withdrawn over time.’
Gwyn shook her head. ‘I looked at the ledgers on Tuesday morning – last time was three a.m. I spent hours combing through the books to see if there was anything that would catch the cops’ attention. There wasn’t. And the petty cash account was intact. So was the bank account.’
‘You’re saying somebody changed the ledgers between Tuesday morning and now?’ Mowry asked. ‘Who would do that? And how? And why?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying,’ Gwyn said grimly. ‘And I can prove it. I printed out the last year’s worth of ledgers. As for who . . . Tavilla is trying to bring Thorne down. I don’t know who could actually have made the changes, though. Somebody who had access to our server and who understands the accounting software. I don’t know exactly how they’d have done it. But that’s what happened.’
JD was nodding. ‘Do you still have the printouts?’
‘I do.’
‘Good. Because the state’s attorney may try to get a warrant for your books. We can’t stop that, but we can show them that the existing books are doctored. That puts the rest of the evidence in question.’
Mowry shuddered in relief. ‘I might not have to move.’
Ming clapped him on the back, causing him to nearly faceplant into his food. ‘I still want what’s in the box you were filling for me.’
Mowry straightened his back, wincing slightly. ‘Fuck off, Clive.’
Ming took the jibe good-naturedly. ‘I’ll give you that one as a freebie because you’re damn giddy right now. But call me that again and we shall have words, Sheldon.’
‘Boys,’ Gwyn warned. She closed her bank app. ‘The ledgers can be verified, but the money is still gone. We have to be able to show it was stolen for the bank to replace it. If it looks like we withdrew it, we can’t file a claim.’
‘We’ll worry about that later,’ Thorne said. ‘We can still make payroll.’
Gwyn looked close to tears. ‘How? We’ve got so many people depending on us.’
‘I can cover payroll,’ Thorne said softly. ‘Don’t worry.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not going to let you clean out your savings for our company’s payroll.’
He brought her hand to his lips. ‘We’ll discuss it later,’ he said firmly, then looked at Ming and Mowry, who were watching them avidly. ‘What?’
Mowry’s grin was quick and sharp. ‘About time. Way to go, Thorne.’
Ming’s grin was slower to spread, but nearly split his face. ‘Ditto, boss.’
Thorne had to bite back his own grin, because Gwyn was sputtering. ‘What else?’ he asked before she could get a word in.
Mowry put his phone on the table and spun it around so that Thorne and Gwyn could see it. ‘This came in right before you got here,’ he said. ‘It’s from my contact in the Circus Freaks.’
It was a text. ‘“Our bosses need to talk”,’ Thorne read. He’d been expecting some kind of summons ever since the Freaks’ dealers had turned up dead, stuffed with Sheidalin matchbooks. ‘Where and when?’
‘No!’ Gwyn exploded. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘You can’t talk to the head of the Freaks, Thorne,’ JD protested. ‘Not right now.’
Thorne shrugged. ‘I think it’s better to talk to him than to start some kind of war over non-existent turf. I don’t think he believes we were behind the death of his boys. If he did, he’d have done something already, like burning the club down, or my house, or Mowry’s apartment building. He likes fire,’ he added when JD stared at him.
‘That’s true,’ Mowry said. ‘They wouldn’t have waited more than a day to retaliate.’
‘How did they know we were on our way here?’ Gwyn asked suspiciously. ‘It seems too much of a coincidence that they messaged you right before we arrived.’
‘They’re probably watching us,’ Thorne said. ‘Another reason to believe that they don’t think we’re involved. They want us to know they’re watching and that they haven’t killed us yet. Tell your contact I’ll be happy to meet with his boss.’
‘I don’t like it,’ JD grumbled. ‘It’s not safe.’
‘I think it would be less safe if he turned them down,’ Mowry said.
‘Agreed.’ Thorne glanced at Gwyn.
She nodded grudgingly. ‘I’m going with you.’ She held up a finger to cut off his interruption. ‘And if you say it’s not safe for me, then it’s not safe for you.’
He narrowed his eyes at her, considering the risk. She was right, unfortunately. ‘Fine. What else?’ he asked his employees.
‘Just Laura,’ Ming said. ‘She quit.’
Thorne stilled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘She quit,’ Ming repeated. ‘I called her this morning and asked if she could come for this meeting, and she told me then. Said she was going home to her folks. I told her she should wait until everything died down, that if she still wanted to quit, we’d give her a reference. She was determined, though.’
‘Where are her parents?’ Gwyn asked.
‘In Virginia.’ He shrugged. ‘I reminded her that she couldn’t leave the state. She got pissy and said she wasn’t going to skip bail. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to go home. She was in holding longer than we were and she was not happy about it. At least her mom was able to watch the baby all night.’
‘We’ll go talk to her,’ Gwyn said. ‘If she really wants to quit, we won’t stand in her way, of course, but she needs to know we’ll see this drug charge through with her. Either Jamie or Frederick will continue to represent her.’
Ming looked uncomfortable. ‘She said she’d be getting her own lawyer, that she didn’t trust you all not to railroad her.’
Gwyn bit her lip. ‘Guys, did Laura have access to the server?’
Mowry shook his head. ‘No. Well, yes, but only to the inventory database.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You’re suggesting she took the money?’
‘She’s not here,’ Thorne said. ‘And she’s putting distance between us. We have to at least consider it. We’ll ask Alec to trace the changes to the accounting software and the bank withdrawal. In the meantime, we’ll go see her.’ He stood up, pulling Gwyn to her feet. ‘Mowry, call your contact to see if he really texted that or if we’re being spoofed. Once it’s verified, call me. I want to hear voices from here on out.’ He squeezed the manager’s shoulder. ‘And seriously, if something changes and you do need to run, do what you have to do. But call me afterward. I’ll help you.’
Mowry nodded. ‘Thanks, boss. Will do.’