Thomas a easton organi.., p.9
In A Fix: Torus Intercession Book Two, page 9
I said nothing. I’d seen the FBI in action in Chicago, and it had never been clean, and those under surveillance always knew.
“That’s it?” he baited me. “No more argument?”
“I just doubt that you’ve checked every corner and looked under every bed,” I assured him. “Nothing is ever as cut and dried as you’re making it out to be.”
“That’s no––”
“You’re missing something,” I said, feeling very sure of myself. I’d been on the other end of too many DEA, FBI, and even at one point, ATF shitshows to know that everything wasn’t always as it seemed. “You said yourself she’s made many trips back and forth to Mexico. She had the money that Brig was giving her, which we know she was giving to her friends. Suárez sees her there at the compound, or whatever, figures out who she is, and grabs her. That all makes sense.”
“Oh, thank God. I’m so glad you’re here to confirm it all makes sense,” he gritted out, glaring at me.
“But then suddenly she’s bragging, on camera no less, about killing Eston Travers?” I goaded him. “Really, Special Agent? Where the hell does that come from?”
“She still hated him,” he replied defensively.
“After almost ten years?” I made a face. “Come on.”
“Why not?” he demanded, the anger curling in his voice like rising smoke.
“When did she allegedly kill Travers?”
“Around the same time Suárez kidnapped her.”
“And you don’t find that odd? That timing makes perfect sense to you?”
“I––”
“Are you guys giving her immunity for his death as well?”
He glanced at Brig and then back to me.
“So she’s okay on embezzlement and drug trafficking, but she’s going to get the needle for killing Travers.”
He exhaled sharply. “That part I don’t know. That’s the DEA wheeling and dealing.”
“Come on,” I pressed him. “This doesn’t sound shady to you? Do you actually think she’s the one who killed Travers?”
“She hated him enough to kill him,” he told me before closing his eyes for a moment. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and I heard the long sigh before his beautiful eyes were back on me. “All the times she went round and round with him, all the times he came out on top and made her feel less than—she says in the confession that she enjoyed finally sending him where he belonged.”
“And where is that?”
“To hell.”
I scoffed. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“It is, and I would have figured it for bullshit, but if you heard the way she talks about the environment, we all figured she meant it.”
“Okay,” Brig said, interrupting. “So then she’s going to jail for murder.”
“Again,” Dallas barked, fisting his hands, making the muscles in his shoulders bunch, “I have no idea.”
“If she killed Travers, then she should,” I said to Brig. “Don’t you agree?”
He nodded.
“Your sister’s a monster,” Dallas reiterated matter-of-factly. “And in case you forgot, your buddy Digby is a disgusting piece of shit,” he remarked with a sneer as he stalked back to the table and flopped down into the chair. “And now that we don’t need him, his ass is going to jail if he refuses to play ball with the DEA to help bust lots of your friends.”
Brig nodded quickly.
“It’s interesting that he thinks enough of you to try and lie,” Dallas stated, tipping his head, studying Brig. “He figures drug smuggling you’ll forgive, but not him wanting to fuck underage girls.”
I crossed the room and retook my seat beside Brig.
“I guess that says something about you, huh?”
“What?”
Dallas’s bored shrug, coupled with the smirk he gave Brig and the silence, implied exactly what he thought.
“Meaning that I’m fine with one and not the other? Is that what you’re alluding to, Agent Bauer? That drugs are fine by me, but I draw the line at having sex with minors?”
“Maybe,” he muttered, stretching, telling me that he was trying to bait Brig, but he didn’t genuinely believe the man culpable. Had he thought badly of Brig, he would have been laser focused and combative. It was hard to hide revulsion. “I have to wonder how much you truly know about his business.”
“Nothing,” Brig rasped, his face crumpling. “I don’t know anything beyond what I told you, that he’s the go-to guy for small amounts for recreational use.”
“I don’t know,” Dallas murmured, straightening up, taking a breath. “But if you’ve got secrets, now’s the time to get everything off your chest.”
“You don’t know me,” Brig sputtered, taking gulping breaths. “I’m not like him or my sister. I’ve never—I’m not… I could never hurt anyone.”
“You’re hurting your fiancée, aren’t you? And how about Mr. Foster?”
Brig’s eyes went round as he gasped.
“Hey,” I said sharply, and Brig turned instantly to me, my tone leaving no room for any other choice. “Agent Bauer overheard us when we were talking,” I assured him, taking hold of his shoulder. “That mirror over there is the same as in every police procedural you’ve ever seen. It’s two-way, and the room is wired for sound. That’s all. Don’t let him get under your skin; you can fix whatever you need to.”
“Listen,” Dallas began, “we don’t need to be enemies here. I just––”
“Back. Off,” I ordered Dallas, glaring. “You blindsided him with all this, and now you’re trying to use a conversation that has no bearing whatsoever on this case to humiliate him, and hoping, what, that you’ll shake information out of him that he doesn’t have? Don’t come at him now and allude to the fact that there could be more. There’s no more.”
“Oh? You know this for certain?”
“Yes, I do,” I growled at him. “So seriously, stop pushing before we go directly to him calling his fleet of lawyers, and you get no help at all.”
“What makes you think we need––”
“I know you do,” I told him. “Suárez isn’t leaving Mexico to come here, but he will send his number two guy, and whoever that is, he’s certainly not going to meet with Mr. Ingram or you, Special Agent Bauer. He’s going to want to speak to Brigham Stanton’s representative in these matters, someone they’ve seen with him, his own number two.”
Dallas scoffed. “And that would be who?”
I smiled wide and arched an eyebrow for good measure.
It was more than gratifying to watch his face fall.
Five
The suite was insane when we returned to the Bellagio. People were coming and going, the music was loud, and Kent was pouring drinks, with Todd close by, entertaining everyone in the vicinity, if the laughter was any indication. Quentin and Trey were holding court in a corner of the living room, and there were six women clustered around them. On the opposite side, Aiden was sitting in a large group of people, none of whom I knew.
They’d taken my instructions to see, and be seen—and heard—seriously.
I was going to ask Brig if he wanted me to clear the room, but before I could get the words out, Chase was there, all over him, wanting to know what had happened. He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and stared into his eyes.
“Shit,” Dallas groaned under his breath, behind me, and when I turned to look at him, he winced, like hearing Chase fire questions at his friend was painful. “It is sort of obvious, isn’t it?”
It was awkward to watch, was what it was, and I was certain some of the discomfort could have been relieved by Brig answering the series of rapid-fire questions Chase shot at him—they could always claim attorney/client privilege, if needed—but Brigham Stanton was a hundred percent distracted. He wasn’t even pretending to give Chase his attention and was, instead, mesmerized by the man standing in front of one of the windows, staring down at the Strip.
“Brig,” Chase rasped, pained that he couldn’t get his friend’s attention, let alone get him to meet his gaze. I heard his voice shake as he took matters into his own hands—literally—and put them on Brig’s face, forcing him to look at him.
It didn’t work. Brig’s head might have turned, but his eyes stayed riveted on the man standing at the window. That was Eric Foster. When Brig took hold of Chase’s wrists, prying them away, never sparing him a glance, I watched Chase deflate.
Eric, for his part, had turned when we walked in, his dark brown eyes gliding over me, then Dallas, before returning to Brig, settling there for long moments. His arms remained crossed, only those deep, liquid eyes moving before he pivoted back and became, once more, a study in solid, immovable muscle silhouetted against the glow of the lights below.
Brig swallowed hard, took a breath, and then darted away, crossing the room, acknowledging no one. His singular objective only to reach Eric. Once there, he took hold of his bicep, and when he got no response, he pulled, turning his caretaker around to face him.
The man’s scowl was impressive, it would have easily intimidated anyone who didn’t know him and left them backing away from the potential threat of it, but Brig wasn’t bothered. He grinned crazily and then laced his fingers with Eric’s. When he tugged gently, Eric followed. They walked out of the room to the next closest one, which just so happened to belong to me and Chase. Eric closed the door behind them.
It wasn’t one of those Hollywood moments where everything stopped. There was no hush that fell over the crowd; it was doubtful anyone even stopped what they were doing to notice what Brig had done. In the grand scheme of things, it was a minor event…unless you were Astor or Chase.
Crushed didn’t do justice to the look on Chase’s face, and he staggered over to the bar where Kent was still pouring. It wasn’t going to be pretty.
Astor stood, with all the purpose and dignity she possessed, and walked toward the room she was supposed to share with Brig, and I followed, making it to the room just as she began grabbing things out of drawers and packing her suitcase.
“You lied to me,” I said, instead of hello, instead of asking if she was okay, going to the closet to retrieve her garment bag for her.
“I’ve been doing it a long time, playing this game,” she agreed, smiling sadly, her tone rueful, resigned. “But I did make it clear that he wasn’t my fiancé.”
“Yes, you did,” I agreed.
“I told him that I would play my part as long as he never made a fool of me,” she explained, her tone stoic, flat. “Well, now he has, so I’m done.”
“I don’t think everyone noticed.”
“I assure you it’s being shared and tweeted about as we speak.”
“Probably,” I conceded, because there were no secrets anymore.
“I’m done pretending, anyway.”
“Why do it?” I was interested. People did all manner of things for money, power, but Astor didn’t need Brig’s money, and I’m sure she possessed a certain amount of power in her own right.
“First,” she began, waiting as I laid the bag down on the bed, unzipping it before returning to the closet, “being with Brig put me in contact with a slew of influential business people I wouldn’t have met otherwise. People with money to burn, who love to throw vast sums of cash at causes, in the name of altruism. I’m not ashamed to admit that the organizations I oversee benefitted immensely from that.”
I was quiet, wanting her to go on.
“Second,” she continued, placing clothes in the suitcase, “I gained even more solid social contacts than business, and you know as well as I do, it’s not always what you know, but who.”
“Yes.”
“Third…we met not long after I’d gone through an ugly breakup. I was at the point where I was just done, you know?” I nodded to let her know I got it. And then she grimaced, like what she was about to say next tasted bad on her tongue. “It was actually my idea to be his cover story.” The look on my face must have registered as shock, because she hurried on. “Brig would become CEO of Stanton-Downey, I’d reap the various benefits of his network of connections, and as long as we were both discreet, we could present as the happy and committed power couple while still leading our own private lives. But things have changed in the last six months,” she said, pensive as I removed her dresses from the closet and rehung them in the garment bag.
“What things?” I asked, because I had an idea what she could be alluding to.
“Nolan,” she replied flatly, resuming her packing. “The more time we spent together, the more I realized that perhaps I’m not as selfless, or as done with the idea of a relationship, as I thought I was.”
I was quiet, letting her talk.
“Every time I see Nolan,” she said wistfully, “he’s kinder, more attentive and thoughtful than the time before,” she said, her voice strained, the smile she tried to give me, watery. “I’d have to be blind not to see his interest, and it made me wonder, you know?”
“About what?”
She shrugged. “What he sees.”
“In you, you mean?”
Quick nod.
“Probably what most people do,” I replied, gesturing at her. “A bright, beautiful, funny woman who’s easy to talk to.”
She bit her bottom lip. “You see?” she choked out. “That’s what I mean. Apparently I’m not great at seeing that in myself.”
“Brig takes you for granted, and you’re not even really friends.”
“No,” she agreed, “we’re not.”
“So there’s no support system there.”
She wiped at her eyes quickly. “No, not in the slightest.”
“And so hanging around, after the way he blew you off out there, because he couldn’t see anyone but Eric…that broke the rules of your arrangement.”
“It did,” she confirmed. “You and I both know that was impossible to miss. An entire room full of people ceased to exist when Brig caught sight of Eric.”
“It was unmistakable, you’re right.” I cleared my throat. “You have every right to feel embarrassed.”
She nodded, tipping her head to the side. “Do I?” Her voice held a note of daring, and I realized what I’d said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply––”
“No, I know,” she said, dismissing my apology with a wave of her hand. “It’s not like I couldn’t have predicted this failing epically. I may be just a bit overwrought at the moment.”
She was amazing was what she was. “I think you’re being great.”
“Why? Because I’m not making a scene?”
“Yes, but really, what would be the point of that?”
“To make me feel better?”
“But would it?” I asked seriously. “You’d come off as unhinged.”
“Which I could very well be.”
I studied her, the calm, how meticulously she was packing. “Are you?”
She took a breath. “No. Not really.”
I went back to helping her pack, but I had a thought. “May I ask a question?”
“Of course,” she replied blandly, turning to look at me.
“What now?”
“How do you mean?” she asked as she went back to packing.
“With Nolan.”
She shook her head.
“You’re just dismissing that out of hand?”
“Please, Croy, I couldn’t possibly entertain such a thing.”
“Why not? He’s got it bad for you,” I reminded her. “But you know that.”
“Yes,” she replied wistfully.
“Do you like him, or just the attention?”
“You make me sound horrible,” she said, trying not to smile.
“Which is not my intent.”
She sighed. “I know, but…how would that even work?”
“If you want it, you make it work. ‘Time is too slow for those who wait…’”
We were quiet for a moment.
“You can still be sad,” I informed her. “It’s still an end.”
“Yes.”
I winced.
“What?”
“I’m doing it again.”
“Sounding pretentious?” she teased me.
“Yes,” I agreed. “It’s a terrible quality.”
“It’s all right,” she murmured, and I could hear the resignation in her tone. “And you weren’t pretentious, not at all. You’re right, though. I am sad,” she explained as she systematically repacked, placing shoes in smaller Louis Vuitton bags, using her Tetris skills to arrange everything just so.
“The façade wasn’t sustainable.”
“No,” she admitted, and for a few minutes we packed in silence, until Nolan walked into the room.
“What’s going on?”
Both of us stopped and looked at him. I found myself squinting as Astor scowled.
“What?” he asked again, irritably, gesturing at me. “And what are you doing in here?”
“I’m helping,” I replied, because surely it was obvious.
“Why? Where is she going?” he demanded, and then turned to Astor. “Where are you going?” He moved around in front of her, barring her path back to the suitcase.
“Please, Lan, you couldn’t have missed––” She stopped, at a loss, turning to me.
“The display?” I offered.
“Yes,” she declared, giving me a nod. “Good choice.” She turned to Nolan then, and took both of his hands in hers. “Since no one missed that display, we need to talk, you and I.”
His mouth opened, but he’d apparently gone mute.
“Croy,” she whispered, “will you excuse us?”
I was mortified that I was still there. “Sorry. Let me know if you need me.”
She nodded before taking a breath. “Let’s talk, Nolan.”
That was my cue, so I pivoted and made for the door as I heard his husked “Oh” behind me. I didn’t envy either of them the talk they were about to have.
Because I was thoughtful, I locked the door and pulled it closed gently, quietly, so no one could interrupt them before they were ready.
“What are you doing?” Dallas snapped at me as I made my way back to the main room.
