75. SARA

I turn to Chance, dumbfounded. “What is he talking about?”

The corners of Johnston’s mouth curl upwards in a curious smile. Beside Chance, I see Frey cross his arms over his chest and tilt his head.

“I’m curious to hear that myself,” says Johnston.

“Good,” says Tre, propping his butt on the corner of Pearce’s desk. “Because I’ve learned a lot over the past week of working closely with Quentin here.”

Pearce’s eyes are blazing like a bonfire.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he barks. “We’re in this together! I’m going to bring you with me!”

“Yeah, not so much,” says Tre. “See, that’s your biggest downfall right there, Quentin: you assume everyone is like you. That loyalty can be bought and sold for the right price. Sorry to burst your bubble, but that man over there is my brother. And no amount of money in this world is going to make me betray him.”

Tears are coursing down my cheeks now. I feel almost as terrible for not trusting Tre as I do for not trusting Chance. The relief is palpable, like a physical sensation inside my chest. These are the men I loved back then. That I still love today.

“I hope your pen has plenty of ink, Agent Johnston,” Tre says. “First off, we’ll start with the partners. Just in case you didn’t recognize the name, Tony Arturo is the head of the Arturo family, currently on any number of FBI watch lists. There’s never been any hard evidence against them, but they’ve got a reputation as New Jersey’s most connected family. Scratch the underbelly of Atlantic City and they’ll scurry out like cockroaches.”

Now it all makes sense.

“I believe I had the pleasure of meeting Tony’s nephew the other night and breaking his hand,” I say. “Charming fellow.”

Chance’s eyes light up. “That was the guy?” he says brightly.

“I’d bet my bottom dollar on it,” I say. “Which I guess in your bottom dollar these days.”

He grins.

“But Big Tony has some big dreams,” Tre continues. “He doesn’t like everyone calling him a scumbag. He wants to be important. He’d also really like to have the feds called off his family’s tail. So what’s the best way to do that?”

Pearce’s face is the ruddy maroon now, and I seriously wonder whether he has blood pressure issues.

“Go on,” says Johnston.

“I think I can finish that thought for him,” says Chance. “Mr. Arturo would love to have control of a prestigious international company like Atlas Security. It’s welcome in every country in the world, except a couple that we really don’t want to associate with anyway.”

Tre beams. “Right you are! So if you connect the dots, it all starts to spell out a plan to seek political office of some sort.” He turns to Pearce. “What was it? Governor? Senate?”

Pearce flinches so hard I almost burst out laughing.

“So it’s Senator Arturo,” Tre says with a nod. “And, of course, once he’s in office, he’ll start whispering in a few ears – congressmen, judges, officials – about how his family is being persecuted and he’d be really happy if they were just left alone.”

I have to get in on this. Now that the outline of the narrative is flowing, it’s pretty easy to speculate on the rest.

“Let me guess, Quentin,” I say. “You’re tired of wealth. You’ve got all the money, now you want power. And what better way than to attach yourself to a rapidly rising politician? A few terms in the senate and you’d weasel your way into the halls of power as the man behind the throne.”

Tre touches his nose and points at me. “Give the lady a prize!”

I preen as Chance beams at me proudly. This feels so fucking good after all those weeks of uncertainty and fear.

Johnston is still scribbling. He’s the most laidback government agent I’ve ever seen.

“So where does Dacosta fit into this?” he asks.

Pearce points a warning finger at Tre.

“You keep your mouth shut,” he hisses. “I’m warning you.”

Tre flips him the bird. “Warn this, motherfucker. Dacosta was connected with the Arturos, and when he heard about the sale of Atlas, he tried to weasel in with bogus intel. He only knew rumors of what happened in Mosul, but he sold it like it was solid evidence.”

He turns to me. “This all started months ago,” he says. “Dacosta knew about you from his days in the Marines with Chance.”

My heart flutters as I turn to my husband. “You talked about me in the Marines? After what I did to you?”

He shrugs. “You were the only girl I ever loved. Who else was I going to talk about?”

Oh, my God. I can’t believe this. I lean in close and put my lips next to his ear.

“You are going to get sooo lucky for that,” I whisper.

“I can’t wait,” he says. “Assuming I’m not headed for a prison cell, that is.”

“Anyway,” Tre says theatrically, shaking his head at us. “Dacosta found Sara and learned she was an investigator. He hired her to do some bullshit work so he could gather intelligence to give to Mr. Pearce here. He then proceeded to hire her for the Atlas deal, specifically to rattle Chance and to dig up dirt on him.”

I smack my fist into my palm. “I knew it! First in the phonebook, my ass, you little bastard!”

Pearce is starting to look like an animal in a trap, eyes darting all over his office as if trying to find an escape route.

“You can’t let them talk like that to me!” he shouts at Johnston. “Lies! It’s all lies! Do your job!”

Johnston gives him a laconic shrug. “What would you have me do?”

“Arrest them!”

“For what? Talking?”

Pearce takes a deep breath, obviously trying to gain control of himself. It’s indescribably sweet to see him like this.

“The Department of Defense can’t afford an embarrassment like this,” he says. “I’m going to talk to Dresden about this! He’ll have you fired!”

“Actually, Major Dresden is under house arrest right now,” says Johnston. “He’s currently being investigated by the Defense Criminal Investigative Service. It’s a good thing we intercepted his communications with you when we did.”

What is he talking about? I turn to Chance, who’s grinning from ear to ear.

“I don’t understand,” Pearce jibbers. “You’re from DCIS! Why are you talking about them in the third person?”

Johnston looks at Frey. “I never said we were from DCIS. Did you?”

“I haven’t said a word since we got here,” Frey says, sounding bored.

Johnston strolls over to Chance, pulling a key from his jacket pocket and using it to unlock the cuffs.

“These have served their purpose, I think,” he says.

As soon as he’s free, Chance grabs me around the waist and pulls me into his arms. I grip his neck fiercely and just hang there, reveling in the warmth of his breath on my neck and his heartbeat next to mine.

“Care to fill in your side of the story?” Johnston asks.

Chance grins. “I can’t think of anything that would make me happier.”