“Are you asking or saying?”
He smiled. “Saying.”
“It is good. Very good, in fact.” I picked it back up.
“Mila…”
“What’s on the flash drive, Decker?”
“A couple of things.”
I stood and put the book back on the shelf. “Just tell me.” If I sounded irritated, I was. Why tell me there was something on it if he didn’t intend to tell me what it was?
“Sybil is your half-sister, as well as Adler’s.”
“Okay,” I whispered, clutching the back of the nearest chair.
“Come sit down.”
When I did, Decker put his arm around me. “This will be more difficult.”
“Go ahead.”
“What’s on the drive confirms that Adler’s father is the man who attacked you in the stairwell.”
I closed my eyes and let my head drop back against Decker’s arm. This wasn’t unexpected news, particularly after he’d told me that Marshall and my father had been roommates in college.
“Let’s go back to Sybil being my half-sister. Do you think she was aware of it?”
“There’s no way of knowing how long she knew before her death, but it might offer some explanation as to why she and Adler were spending time together.”
I nodded. “What else was on it?”
“Proof that Livingston developed technology your father took credit for. Somehow, Judd managed to file the patents with himself listed as the inventor rather than Adler’s father. The original drawings as well as the technical data that was on the flash drive essentially prove your father stole the technology. That’s an oversimplification.”
“Not that I have any reason to defend my father, but is it possible he purchased the technology?”
Decker shook his head. “If that were the case, Livingston would have been listed as the inventor and your father and/or his company would be listed as the assignee.”
“Do you think he killed Sybil?”
“I don’t know. There’s an equal chance it was Livingston.”
“Sybil swallowed the flash drive rather than give it to her killer.” It should’ve shocked me, didn’t. It was like I’d become immune to all the crazy shit swirling around me.
“That’s right,” Decker murmured, nodding.
“Marshall wouldn’t want proof that he attacked me exposed. My father wouldn’t want anyone to have proof that he was a thief.”
“Based on what I read, Livingston stood the chance of being compensated in the billions if he were able to prove the inventions were his.”
“You keep saying Livingston. I’m not going to fall apart if I hear his name, Decker. I just said it myself.”
“That isn’t why.”
“Why, then?”
“It humanizes him.”
“I see. What are you planning to do, Decker?”
“While we’re able to resolve certain things from what was on the drive, there are many more questions that remain unanswered.”
“Who killed Sybil?”
“Yes. Also, there’s the question of your parents’ divorce.”
“What of it?” My mother was dead. What difference would anything that happened with their marriage make now?
“Keep in mind that I am only theorizing at this point.”
“I’m aware of that, Decker.” I stood and walked back over to the bookcase, my fists clenched tightly. I was so angry I was shaking, but who was I mad at? My father? Sybil? Adler? Marshall? Or was I angry at Decker? “I’d appreciate it if you’d get to the point.”
He stood too. “Okay. Here’s the point, Mila. Based on the argument your father had with Marshall after he instructed you to go up to his office and wait for him, I believe there’s a reasonable chance he raped your mother.”
“‘She looks just like her—’ He was talking about my mother.”
“There was something else he said, ‘The best revenge of all was that you didn’t believe her.’ Marshall went on to say that he blew up your father’s life.”
“You’re thinking that my father realized Sybil wasn’t his when she needed a blood transfusion?”
“Adds up.” Decker stepped closer to me, and I stepped back. “What’s going on, Mila?”
I didn’t know. I couldn’t explain why, but the idea of Decker touching me made my skin crawl. “I’d like to be alone,” I said, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. “Maybe go back to the old house.”
“Okay. We can do that. I’d like to meet with Rile first.”
I turned my back to him. “Okay.”
“Mila?”
“It’s a lot to process, Decker.”
32
Adler
“Who in the hell are you?” I said to the woman sitting on the arm of my sofa when I walked into my apartment and flipped on the light.
“I’m here to talk about Sybil Knight’s murder, Adler,” the woman said, calm as she fucking could be.
“How did you get in here?”
“Think you’re the only person who knows how to break and enter?” She unfolded her arms as she spoke, revealing a gun.
I threw my arms up and motioned toward the gun. “Whoa, that is not necessary. Who the fuck are you?”
The woman stood and walked over to me. “Who I am isn’t important. What’s important is I don’t like swearing, so you’ll stop that now.”
I ran my hand through my hair. With or without a gun, this woman was scary as shit. Didn’t help that she was dressed all in black leather in the middle of fucking July. “What do you want?”
“I already told you. You’re going to tell me everything you know about Sybil Knight’s murder.”
“I don’t know shit about Sybil Knight.”
Before I had time to blink, the crazy bitch pistol-whipped me, hitting me square in the jaw.
“Jesus,” I yelled, bringing my hand up to my mouth. “I’m bleeding.”
“I’m getting tired of repeating myself, Adler. I said, I don’t like swearing.” She leaned into me when she said it, and I backed into the kitchen island. “Sit!” she barked, motioning to the closest stool and taking another step forward.
I held up my hands again. “Okay. I’m sitting.”
“Put your hands behind your back.”
“Why?”
The woman scrunched her eyes.
“Okay. Look. Hands behind back.” I peered over my shoulder and saw her pull out a pair of handcuffs that she promptly put on my wrists. “Are you a cop?”
The woman laughed, which only scared me more.
“If I were a cop, you’d have a much better night than you’re gonna have.”
33
Decker
“Casper’s interrogating Adler Livingston presently,” Rile said with a twinkle in his eye.
I stepped to the side so he could see that Mila was with me.
“Are Edge and Grinder here?”
“Yes,” he answered at the same time both men in question joined us in the kitchen.
“I was able to review the contents of the flash drive the medical examiner found in Sybil Knight’s stomach.”
Grinder’s eyes opened wide, and he looked around me at Mila.
“Mila has been briefed on its contents.” I walked into the main dining room and motioned for her to join me. I reached out to put my hand on her shoulder, and she jerked away from me. It stunned me so much that I stood frozen, looking into her eyes. “Talk to me, Mila. Tell me why you just did that,” I said quietly enough that only she could hear me.
She took another step back. “I don’t know.”
I looked down at the floor and then back up at her. “Do you want to be in this meeting? I’ll warn you that I’m not going to pull any punches if you are. I need to tell the guys everything I told you, along with everything I didn’t. That includes reviewing the surveillance recordings from the night you were attacked.”
“I’ll stay.”
“You’re sure?”
“I just said I’d stay.”
“Have a seat.” I didn’t know what the hell was going on with her, but right now, I had to brief the team, especially since Casper was with Adler. As soon as Rile said she was, I began compiling a mental list of things she could question him about.
“I’ve forwarded the contents of the flash drive to each of you,” I said when the men joined Mila and me at the table.
“Let’s start with the video.”
Grinder looked at me and then at Mila a second time, and it pissed me off. “Yes, Grinder, I am aware Mila is here. It was her choice to stay or leave. She chose to stay. Any further questions?”
“Sorry, Deck,” said Grinder, holding up his hands.
“There’s audio, Mila.”
Her eyes were as wide as Grinder’s had been.
I heard a chair push back and saw Grinder getting up from the table. “You’re a fucking wanker,” he spat.
That wasn’t the worst of it. When the man held his hand out to Mila, she took it. No flinch. No hesitation. They both walked out of the room.
“Not a fucking word,” I said to Edge, and then turned to look at Rile, whose eyes were hooded.
“Both of you go ahead and watch it. You can review the patent documents as well. If you have any questions, you can ask me when I get back.”
I stormed through the kitchen and out the back door. I didn’t know where Grinder took Mila, and I didn’t care. I needed to get the fuck out of there before I lost my temper completely.
Since when was I the fucking bad guy? I’d asked Mila if she wanted to stay, and she’d said yes. In fact, she’d snapped at me when I asked if she was sure. And then, after flinching away from me, she took Grinder’s hand like it was no big deal.
That, right there, was like a knife to my chest. I stalked into the office, grabbed the key to the Bummer, and walked through the barn to where we kept it.
I threw open the alley doors, got in, and started it up. Thank God, Boon had been driving it. If it hadn’t turned over, I might’ve smashed it to smithereens. Not that it would’ve been possible. This thing was built like a tank, mainly because, in part, it was one.
I took off through the closest pasture, back to the fire road where I could open the Bummer all the way up. I’d forgotten how fun this thing was to drive; the last time I had, it was because some fucking English footballers had figured out how to temporarily disable the ranch’s security system along with all of the vehicles they’d known about, and then kidnapped a woman who Z had moved here to keep her safe.
They sure as shit hadn’t known about the Bummer, nor did they know that even though they’d thrown a wrench in the system Burns and I had put in place, we had backups that no one could fuck with.
The kidnappers had ended up with bullets in their brains, the woman was now married to a former MI6 agent, and everyone lived happily ever after.
That was when Quint met his wife, too. For the second time in a handful of days, I felt the absence of my best friend. It wasn’t like we were joined at the hip, but if there was ever a time I needed his advice, now was it.
As I drove, I went over and over what had transpired between Mila and me in the last couple of hours.
After watching the surveillance tape of her attack, and then sorting through the patent files, I’d spent fifteen minutes thinking over the best way to tell her what I’d seen, that I knew who her attacker had been, and that Sybil wasn’t her father’s child.
Somehow, I’d gotten it so wrong that she couldn’t stand for me to touch her. What though? What had I said? How had I said it?
I thought back over her reaction to each piece of information I’d presented her with. She’d been shocked, but she continued asking questions. It was when I mentioned her parents’ divorce and my theory about what had caused it, that she first appeared angry.
The Bummer hit a big bump right when I crested a rise, sending it airborne. The back three rows of seats rattled around, since they weren’t all that secure, to begin with, but my beloved Frankenstein vehicle landed smooth as butter and kept right on going.
This wasn’t the first vehicle Quint and I had built. We’d started out taking one of the tractors apart and reassembling it so it looked more like a cross between a lawnmower and a go-cart. It was when I decided to make it radio-operated that Z took notice.
“Show me how it works,” he’d said to my then-fifteen-year-old self.
I’d showed him, and even though there were things I hadn’t figured out how to make work yet, Z had still been impressed.
The following summer, he took Quint and me on a road trip to California. We’d pulled that damn modified tractor all the way to the Central Coast. When we arrived, an old man came out on the porch of one of the coolest houses I’d ever seen.
When we got out of the truck, Z had put his hand on my shoulder. “This is the boy I’ve been telling you about.”
The man descended the steps so slowly, I thought maybe Quint and I should help him. When he reached the bottom, he walked around the trailer, looking at the tractor. He studied it for a few minutes and then walked over to where Quint and I waited with Z.
“My name is Laird Butler,” the man had said. “Although I’m also known as Burns.”
I remembered shaking the man’s hand, and then him saying, “Come with me, young man. You and I are going to figure out what else we can control by radio.”
At first, I felt bad that Burns hadn’t said anything to Quint, but later that night, before we went to sleep in the guest house the Butler family had invited us to stay in, Quint reassured me.
“I’d be pissed if he asked how you reassembled the chassis, because I’m the one who did that. Mr. Butler wasn’t interested in that. He wanted to know how you’d rigged the remote.”
After a few days, Z told me that he and Quint were heading back to Texas and that I’d be staying on for two more weeks, finishing a project that Burns and I had started.
It was easy now to look back and see what a great opportunity Z had given me. Then, it was a different story. I’d gotten it in my head that Z was leaving me there. Abandoning me. I couldn’t have been more wrong, but it took Burns and his wife to convince me of that.
Three days later, I was in the basement of the Butler’s house where Burns and I were working on one of our projects, when I heard a knock on the door. Burns had hollered to whoever it was to come in, and in walked Z.
I didn’t see Burns leave the room, but he had. Z came over and sat across the work table from me, handing me a piece of paper.
“What is this?” I’d asked.
“Adoption papers.”
A few weeks later, Z took me to the Hays County Courthouse and made me his son. The only other person who knew about it was Quint, and I told him that I wanted to keep it between the three of us. Z hadn’t done it so anyone would think what a great guy he was. He’d done it because he wanted me to know that he’d never leave me behind.
My legal name after that day became Decker Ashford Alexander, but I’d always used Ashford as my last name. Z respected my decision, because that’s the kind of man he is.
I stopped the Bummer, wiped the tears from my eyes, and looked over at the two cell phones that I’d thrown on the passenger seat. Maybe I couldn’t—or wouldn’t—contact Quint. The man was on his honeymoon. But I sure as hell could call Z.
34
Mila
“Are you okay?” Grinder asked as he drove me back over to the old house.
“Yes and no. I know none of this is Decker’s fault. I don’t know why I got so upset with him.”
“Maybe because he was a damn wanker,” Grinder muttered, looking out the driver’s side window.
“He really did ask me if I was sure I wanted to stay, and I told him I did.”
“He shouldn’t have asked in the first place.”
I understood Grinder’s thinking, but I disagreed. If Decker hadn’t, I would’ve been even angrier.
“I’m sorry about interrupting your meeting.”
“Not a problem. Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own here?”
“Definitely.” While I hadn’t decided what I’d do about the property, I didn’t have to yet. It wouldn’t be mine for four more years, and I couldn’t think that far ahead.
As soon as I could, I intended to return to my life in Boston. I’d find a job, a new apartment, and move on from this in the same way I’d moved on nine years ago when I’d originally gone to Massachusetts.
While I’d gotten lazy about spending time with friends other than Adler, I did have them. Lots of them were from the music program. Maybe one could even help me get a job.
I supposed the bank would contact me about my grandfather’s house, since I was the only remaining heir. Given it was mortgaged for more than it was worth, they’d either take it over or I’d have to sell it, and I could handle either from Boston.
Whether it was my father or Marshall Livingston, or even Adler, who had killed Sybil, I knew Decker and the Invincibles would see to it that they were brought to justice.
In the meantime, I needed money, and I intended to get it.
I waved as Grinder drove off. There were still several hours of daylight that I could use to start cleaning the place up. In fact, the first thing I’d do would be to call and get the utilities turned back on.
Wait. That would be the second thing I did. First, I’d call my father.
Nine years ago, my hand shook when I dialed the number that I’d had to look up. Not this time.
“I’m calling for Judd Knight,” I said when the operator said, “Knighthawk, how may I help you?”
“This is Mila Knight. I’m calling for my father.”
“Your father?”
“Yes, ma’am. Judd Knight. My father.”
“One moment please.”
I was on hold for several minutes, but I didn’t care.
“Hello, Miss Knight. This is Kitty, Mr. Knight’s assistant. Is there something I can help you with, dear?”
Decked (The Invincibles Book 1) Page 15