69. SARA

A mall food court isn’t exactly the place you’d expect high intrigue to go down, which is exactly why I chose it for this meeting. Anything out of the ordinary happens here and people will have their phones out recording it in no time flat.

I see them walking toward the eating area before they see me. They’re both in impeccably tailored suits, and it suddenly strikes me that Tre actually has a lot in common with Quentin. They’re both business majors with money on their minds at all times. The fact that they found a way to work together shouldn’t surprise me.

Tre catches sight of me and his eyes widen. He jogs over and pulls me into a hug.

“Thank God,” he says. “I was so worried about you!”

“I’m fine,” I say stiffly, not returning the embrace.

“Where’s Chance?”

“I don’t know. That’s probably for the best.”

Pearce points to a table and we sit, the two of them side by side, me opposite them. I want them to know in no uncertain terms that I don’t trust anyone right now.

Pearce speaks first: “I was hoping that you would at least hear Tre out, since you’ll likely never trust me again after that night in Lincoln Park.”

“You think?” I say with a quizzical smile.

He nods. “You have every right to be angry. My choice of companions was an associate’s idea; I was against it but he insisted. I apologize for their conduct. Although, to be honest, you were the one who resorted to violence first.”

“I might do it again right now if you keep pissing me off,” I say evenly.

Tre holds up his hands in surrender and turns to Pearce. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Quentin, but I’d appreciate it if you kept your fucking mouth shut for the rest of our time here. Okay?”

Pearce glowers, but does as he’s told.

“Thank you for agreeing to this,” Tre says to me. “I was hoping to be able to talk to you without Chance being here.”

I flash back to the afternoon when Tre came storming out of Chance’s office after arguing.

“Why?” I ask. “He trusts you. What can’t you say in front of him?”

He frowns. “Chance has always been like a brother to me, but I’m worried about him right now. I think this offer from Empire has him on the ropes. At first I thought it was just his pride, that he didn’t want to lose Atlas. But now I think there may be more to it.”

“Like what?”

“You remember when we were kids, he got in trouble. That one time he went after his foster father –”

“Because that so-called ‘father’ tried to put his hand down Chance’s jeans!” I bark. “What of it?”

“Shit,” Tre breathes. “He never told me that part of the story. But even that speaks to the point I’m trying to make. He’s dealt with a lot of shit in his life where he didn’t have control over what happened to him. His way of coping with that was to become the kind of person who takes charge, who gets things under control. It’s why he was such a good Marine, and why Atlas is what it is today.”

“You’re listing off his character traits,” I say, trying not to draw lines to what Kelsey said about control. “So what?”

“So this offer from Empire was beyond his control, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t want to lose control of the company, but he also couldn’t come up with a plan to convince the Sullivans not to sell.”

“And?”

“And when you found out about the angel investor, he lost even more control.”

My stomach drops. “You’re saying that marrying me was just part of a scheme?”

Tre shakes his head. “I can’t say that for sure. All I know is that before we had our falling out, he was talking about manipulating you because you were investigating the company. I told him I was against it, that putting your feelings on the line was out of bounds.”

Suddenly all the sounds around us in the food court seem to fade into the distance. I’m surrounded by people and yet I feel utterly alone.

“Sara, did Chance ever tell you about Sebastian Dacosta?”

“Yes,” I say through numb lips. “And I know he’s dead now.”

“Did he tell you they both worked for Sully in Iraq?”

My heart freezes. “No. He never mentioned that.”

“Dacosta was one of Sully’s hired guns in the days before he and Chance expanded Atlas. There were always rumors of ties to the CIA. And Quentin here has told you about the intel he has on CIA money being embezzled into Atlas as a so-called ‘angel investment.’”

I say nothing. My mind can’t form any words.

“It’s very possible that Dacosta knew about that and was the source of that intel to the people who gave it to Quentin.”

“I can’t reveal who my partners are, obviously,” Pearce chimes in.

My mind manages to find a few words: “I thought I told you to shut up.”

The shocked look on his face is enough to lift my spirits for a moment.

“Look, Sara,” says Tre. “I’m not going to accuse Chance of having anything to do with Dacosta’s death. But you yourself have to admit it looks awfully suspicious when the guy turns up dead right at the time he could be most damaging to Chance.”

Chance lied to me about where he’d been yesterday afternoon, the time Dacosta was killed. My stomach churns at the thought I’ve been trying to avoid for the last twenty-four hours.

Tre must see it on my face because he takes my hand in his.

“Sara, we need to find Chance,” he says. “Can you tell us where he is?”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

He nods. “Okay. But I still think you’re the person he’ll contact first, if and when he decides to surface. Will you come with us?”

My mind is racing. What choice do I have? This craziness has to stop. I tap a few keys on my phone and send my contact info to Tre’s number.

“You can get in touch with me here,” I say. “I promise to answer. But I’m not going to go with you. Not right now. I have things to figure out.”

“Of course,” he says. “But if you need anything, I’m just a text away.”

“Actually, I need money. Chance told me to toss my credit and debit cards so they couldn’t track us, and the banks are closed on Sundays so I can’t get new ones.”

Tre reaches into his wallet and hands me five hundreds.

“At the risk of pissing you off again,” Pearce mutters. “There’s a cashier’s check for $150,000 at your office that will clear in a day.”

“Thanks,” I say, standing up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Tre’s eyebrows go up. “Promise?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“I’m really sorry, Sara,” he says. “You should never have been caught up in all this. I’m sorry it took this kind of crazy shit for us to all find each other again. This should have been the happiest time of our lives.”

Yeah, it should have been. And now I wish I’d never answered Pearce’s call that morning. But like the old saying goes, wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which one fills up first.

I’ve got myself a big old handful of shit right now.