I watched her disbelief and grief and anger for a while before I understood that she wasn’t going to respond and that I needed to give her the only privacy we could afford in this tiny place. So, I turned, opened the laptop, and forced myself not to give in to the questions and thoughts bouncing around in my mind.
Sutton had made herself known as a massive red flag in my family, and she’d continued to hold true to that in the short time I’d been around her. Vague and argumentative and fearful of the people who wanted to help her.
Women who were gaslighted to no end often denied and defended. With a sociopath of a husband like Zachary, Sutton was a prime candidate to be one of those women. But there was a difference between an impulse to defend a man you’d been manipulated by and Sutton’s genuine shock over everything I had said.
Especially when we’d thought that was the reason she was running.
I wanted to ask her again why I was there, ask her why she’d begged for our help, until I finally got the answer she’d avoided all this time.
But I had a job to do—we all did.
Einstein was doing what she did best, going through any and every system available to her, looking for Zachary through calls and texts, card transactions, traffic and housing camera systems.
Kieran and Jess were watching my back and looking for Zachary here on the ground.
My priority was simple, and yet the hardest of them all . . . earn Sutton and her daughter’s trust and keep them safe.
The hard questions could be asked later.
Besides, if I were to demand those answers before she trusted me, I wouldn’t get anything.
I scrolled through dozens of pages, opened another couple of files, scrolled through even more, and then let out a low whistle.
Families.
Illegal businesses.
Front businesses.
People linked to the families and a very basic list of crimes they’ve committed.
Dozens upon dozens of bank accounts, all of which had in-depth files of their own, and that was just the beginning.
“Fuck me,” I said under my breath and then scrolled back to the top.
“What’s wrong now?” Sutton asked warily from where she stood at the window.
At some point, she’d started moving around the room. Walking from the bed to the window to the bathroom to whisper through the door and back again. Her restlessness filled the room and made me feel more on edge than I already had.
“What does Tennessee Gentlemen mean to you?” I asked, then turned in the seat to look at her.
“Is it a whiskey?”
The corner of my mouth twitched up before I could hide it. “No . . . no, it isn’t. Einstein was working on getting a black folder from an acquaintance of sorts before she was taken. Think of a black folder as all the information and dirt on any person or family who deals in illegal things.”
I had a black folder. Every member of ARCK had one.
But Sutton didn’t need to know that. She didn’t trust us enough as it was.
“She was trying to figure out what could’ve scared you so badly that you would reach out to us. With . . . your . . .” I hesitated when Sutton deflated on her path back to the bed.
Shoulders fell. Chest caved. Eyes filled with something that strangely resembled guilt.
“Uh . . . with your location and the little you’d given us, she had enough to go on for this folder. But everything your husband said solidified it. She and her boyfriend went to retrieve it while I was traveling here.”
“She went to get it even after what happened to her?” she asked suspiciously.
If Sutton knew the women I worked with had been kidnapped, broken, tortured, and raped, only to stare death in the face with a smile for those they loved, she wouldn’t bat an eye at Einstein having gone back to work two days after what she’d endured.
She’d probably ask for lessons, because coming at anyone with goddamn shoes wasn’t going to cut it.
“Einstein was the only one who could get it,” I said in way of a watered-down explanation. “There’s also no way anyone can keep her from doing what she wants—doesn’t matter what she’s been through.”
At Sutton’s nod, I tipped my head toward the screen. “The Tennessee Gentlemen are a cartel. They have people working for them all over the state, but they’re based here in Brentwood. Drug and weapons trafficking. Sex Clubs.” I searched her face carefully as I spoke, finding only genuine surprise and horror on it. “It’s made up of five families—”
“Don’t say Larson.”
“Larson.”
“No,” she said adamantly. “No. No, I would’ve known. Zachary isn’t involved in things like that. He wouldn’t—”
“Wouldn’t kidnap and drug a girl? Try to kill her? All because she was trying to help you get away from him?” I lifted a brow when Sutton looked at me with sorrow and humiliation and anger. “Yeah, your husband isn’t all that innocent. I think you already knew that, or you wouldn’t be running.” The words were laced with meaning and unspoken questions. A thinly veiled attempt to get her to reveal anything even though I knew it was too soon to push for answers.
But I couldn’t seem to stop.
“But his brother and his parents,” she offered hastily. “I know them . . . they wouldn’t. They work in energy.”
“There’s an energy business listed as one of the fronts.”
“I don’t know what a front is,” she snapped, her tone desperate.
“A cover business so incoming money isn’t seen as suspicious. Also a way to launder dirty money in and out without the government being tipped off.”
Her mouth had been opened to respond, but it slowly closed. After a few seconds, she moved toward the window again. “How do you know all this?”
Because I lived this.
This had been my life for so long with Holloway that none of this was shocking to me.
“It’s my job to know these things.”
She nodded, seeming to accept the answer and stole a glance out of the curtains.
“There a reason you’re looking out there?”
She dropped the curtain but was slow to look in my direction again. “I’ve spent the past two months worrying someone was outside wherever we were, waiting for us. Just because you’re in here, it doesn’t mean someone isn’t out there.”
In that moment, I had other things to worry about, like a client who trusted her sociopathic husband more than me.
Besides, if anyone tried to come in, I’d take care of it. Not that anyone would make it to the door before Kieran stopped and silenced them.
I cleared my throat and brought my attention back to the screen. “Other families in Tennessee Gentlemen include Woods, Vaughn, Thornton . . .” I looked up when a heavy exhale left her. “Sutton?”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked numbly.
“Which of those names mean something to you?”
Her jaw clenched tight.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded, her tone harsh.
“You wanted to know what was going on,” I reminded her. “This is what’s going on.”
“Whatever you’re doing—whatever you’re reading—it’s bullshit. You’re doing this to see what I’ll do. See how I’ll react. Is this another test?” she asked, her voice raising with each question. “Is this another one of your tests like with the emails and the phone call? Say things that will upset me and see how I respond?”
“Jesus Christ,” I said on a groan and dragged my hands over my face.
“Well, is it?”
I let my arms fall and looked at her openly. “Look, I’m normally a pretty easy-going guy, but you’re pushing me. I drove over eight hours to get here and then searched motels for three to find you. Once I did, you attacked me, and it’s been a nonstop fight with you since because, for some goddamn reason, you’re more suspicious of the guy trying to protect you than the one coming after you.”
“What do you e
xpect from me? I’ve been living like this for months. I can barely sleep. I’m terrified. But then you . . . you, one of the most terrifying men I have ever met, came in to ‘save’ us.”
I nodded, not knowing how to respond to that.
Knowing I shouldn’t.
If she knew the background that came with the appearance, she would know her fears were valid. And that would only make this more difficult.
“I’m not trying to upset you,” I finally said. “This isn’t a test, but you had to know those were necessary. You wouldn’t give us any information we needed. You were secretive, and what you did tell us wasn’t entirely true.”
Sutton didn’t respond with anything other than a slight hitch of her chest.
“And I expect you to give a little. Not much, but enough for me to be able to help you. Because that’s all I want to do. Now, which of those names mean something to you?”
For a long time, she didn’t answer.
When I was about to continue with the last name, she said, “All of them.” She swallowed, the length of her throat shifting with the movement. “All of those families were at our wedding. They’re at every party. I don’t know the Thorntons very well, but I know the Woods and Vaughn families, and that—” She laughed uneasily. “That’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it for me.”
Sutton’s eyes found me again, indecision and anger rolling through them before they darted away. “I’ve never understood why the Vaughns were around. The wedding, I guess I understood because they know my parents . . . but, God, it was awkward. Everything else—all the Larson parties? It never made sense. Zachary said his family didn’t know theirs, yet they were always there.”
“Clearly, they know each other if they’re all in on this. Tell me why the wedding was uncomfortable.”
She blew out a slow breath, a soft laugh lingering at the end of it. “My daddy pushed me into dating both Zachary Larson and Garret Vaughn and told me I had to marry whichever one proposed first. I had no idea they knew each other until the Vaughns showed up at the wedding.” She faced me and forced a smile. “It was tense between Garret and Zachary, to say the least.”
My brows were drawn tight as she spoke. “Pushed you . . .”
“Business,” she said, as if that explained it. “Both families donate heavily to my father’s company. He needed to offer an incentive for them to continue, I guess.”
I glanced at the screen, at the last family that made up the Tennessee Gentlemen, then looked to Sutton. “Was your maiden name Camp?”
Shock pulsed through her so forcefully I felt it slam into me.
“Why would you ask me that?” Her eyes darted to the computer and then back to me. “Why would you ask me that?”
I reached for the computer to turn the screen toward her, but Sutton was already off the bed and stepping away.
“No. No, no, no. No, you’re lying.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re wrong. I would’ve known. I would know,” she screamed.
I didn’t know what to say or do, so I did nothing.
Just sat there, watching as she drove her fingers into her hair, sank down onto the bed farthest from where I sat, and choked on a sob.
Every few moments, I heard her repeated, muted whispers. “You’re lying, you’re lying, I would’ve known.”
I waited until her cries had calmed and then said, “I need you to uncomplicate the Woods family.”
She whipped around, hatred pouring from her. “Why don’t you uncomplicate it for me, Conor?”
I lifted my hands in a placating gesture. “I just need anything that might help—”
“Why don’t you tell me what the name Woods means to you?” She stood from the bed and snapped, “What does the name Vero Woods mean to you?”
I stared at her in bewilderment before glancing at the screen to make sure that name wasn’t on the page, even though I knew only surnames were on the displayed page.
“Christ, I don’t know why I’m even trying with you.”
A grunt punched from my lungs the moment I stood.
She tried to slam her hands into my chest again, but I gripped her wrists, hauled her close, and waited until her hate-filled eyes were on mine. “I have protected women for most of my life, but you are, by far, the most infuriating one I’ve met. I think it says something considering I just fucking met you.”
“Glad to be the first one who fights.”
My brow creased.
Confusion swam.
At that second, I felt her tense and pull me toward her in preparation to try to knee me again.
I roughly released before she had the chance and ground my jaw to stop from lashing out.
“We’ve dealt with women who were unsure. Women who changed their minds about a hundred times during the process. Women who were even so gaslighted by their husbands that they constantly struggled with leaving even though they knew—they fucking knew it was the only way they could stay alive. And it all came down to them being terrified to their cores. But you? Fucking hell,” I bit out. “Why you ever asked for help, I’ll never understand. Because you clearly don’t want it.”
“I want my friend back,” she screamed.
I stilled at the unexpected response.
“Tell me what the name Vero Woods means to you. Veronica Woods.”
“Nothing,” I said slowly. “It means nothing.”
A sad laugh fell from her lips. She nodded and swayed on her feet before walking on unsteady legs to the bed. “Of course it doesn’t. Just as Sutton and Alexis Larson won’t mean anything to you when you’re done with us.”
Once again, I just watched her. Stunned. Confused. Frustrated. Fucking exhausted out of my mind.
“Jason Woods is one of Zachary’s closest friends. Vero Woods was his wife. She disappeared about a year ago.” Her hazel eyes shifted to meet mine and flashed fire. “But you’d know all about that, now, wouldn’t you?”
It took a couple seconds for her words to register past her anger and loathing, but when they did, I dropped back into the desk chair and pulled up the file on the Woods family.
There were five families in the Tennessee Gentlemen, but this cartel had gone on for generations, and there was a file for each core family. Inside each file, there was another file for each family member that explained who they were, any identifying information, everything about their life from birth through the present—including but not limited to schools and teachers and love interests and pets and cars.
But the main file gave the basics.
Name, dates, spouses, kids. Photos of the above.
When I finally reached Jason Woods’s profile, shock and suspicion filled me.
The hell?
I fumbled for my phone and hurried to call Einstein. As soon as she answered, I told her to hold on and linked Kieran in on the call.
“I think I have something,” I said when I had all four people on the phone.
Maverick with Einstein, and Jess with Kieran.
I glanced over my shoulder at where Sutton was staring me down and turned so I was facing her. “But it might mean we have a problem.”
Surprise flitted across her face, but I didn’t give her a chance to react.
I lowered the phone and put it on speaker so Sutton could hear. “Sutton’s been hostile since I got here . . . I think I just found out why. She was completely unaware of the Tennessee Gentlemen and what they do, who they consist of, but she knows the families.”
“I don’t—” Jess hissed as Kieran tried to stop her. “I just don’t understand.”
“Don’t understand what?” I asked.
Jess made a victorious sound. “I was just trying to figure out how someone could be hostile toward you.”
Sutton’s eyes widened. Her next words were so soft I nearly missed them. “Have you seen him?”
“Apparently, it comes easy for some people,” I murmured. “Anyway, when I said the last names of the people
involved, she got upset.”
“Obviously,” Einstein said in that way she spoke. As if she couldn’t understand how people didn’t know all the things her genius mind knew.
“Woods was one of the ones that upset her the most. I asked what the names meant to her, and she came back with what Vero Woods meant to me.” For a second, the only sound was the rapid tapping of keys, and it was obvious it infuriated Sutton. “Vero Woods was Jason’s wife. Sutton said she disappeared a year ago and that I would know about that.”
“Holy shit.”
Kieran and Jess were demanding to know what had Einstein so taken aback, but I could hear Einstein filling Maverick in with hushed whispers.
“Guess you found her?” I asked in a low tone.
“I don’t understand,” Einstein said, those words sounding foreign coming from her. “There was nothing linking her to Tennessee or Jason Woods.”
“Maybe they weren’t married,” I said, offering the only thing I’d been able to come up with in the short time since I’d seen the picture.
“Someone please fill us in,” Jess said, clearly annoyed to be left out of the loop.
“Veronica Garza from last year. She’s in the black folder as Veronica Woods.”
“Wait, you think Jason and Vero weren’t married?” Sutton’s angry tone broke through the shocked voices filtering through my phone. “Of course, they were. They were married for years. I’ve seen her credit cards and drivers license before, they were in her name.”
As trying as the woman in front of me was, I felt bad for her.
Not knowing what parts of her life were real or a lie would have been a lot for anyone to handle.
“Did you see them get married?” I asked gently.
“Well, no. They . . . they . . .” Sutton blinked slowly, trying to think.
“Not saying what did or didn’t happen, Sutton,” Einstein cut in, “but I can create an entire new life for someone—including identifications, college transcripts, work histories, and credit cards—in my sleep. With what the Tennessee Gentlemen do, and what your husband had to do in order to slip past us, it’s entirely possible that Veronica wasn’t married. Everything I ran on the girl we helped escape said she wasn’t married or even had a boyfriend.”
Limit (Rebel Book 3) Page 4