by Holly Hart
Wait a minute…
I know Chance broke into my home office … he would have realized that Sebastian Dacosta was the one behind the incriminating intelligence…
Suddenly it’s right there in front of me: Chance didn’t know Dacosta had anything to do with Nova Chemicals until I told him. Up to that point, it was just a company, not a person.
He recognized the name but not the connection. It existed, but he needed someone to point it out to him. And what are the odds that the one person who had incriminating information on Atlas just happened to be a recent client of mine?
About as high as the odds of Quentin Pearce randomly choosing my name because it was first in the phone book. How stupid could I be?
It was right in front of me the whole fucking time.
Chapter Seventy-Three
73. SARA
As Pearce jabbers on the phone with his man in the DoD, I mentally prepare my verbal assault on him. This stinks like week-old halibut, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it if it’s the last thing I do.
And I’ll be more than happy to spend every penny of the $150,000 he paid me to make it happen.
Suddenly my phone is going off in my hand. Chance! It has to be!
But it’s not. The caller ID says Noble & Cassidy. That’s Chance’s legal firm. How the hell did they get this number?
I thumb the answer button tentatively. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Talbot,” says a middle-aged voice. “This is Daniel Thompson with Mr. Talbot’s legal team. Please forgive me for calling unannounced, but being Monday, I was hoping I could get you to come by our offices and get this paperwork out of the way. And I can’t seem to track down Mr. Talbot today – would you happen to know where he is?”
“Paperwork?” I say stupidly. “What paperwork?”
The voice is silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, I assumed Mr. Talbot had discussed it with you.”
“Discussed what with me?” As if I needed another distraction right now!
“Getting your name added to all of Mr. Talbot’s accounts, adding you as sole beneficiary in his will, the usual,” he says. Then he chuckles. “You know – giving you the keys to the vault, as it were. He asked me to get started on it the day of your wedding, but I’m afraid it took quite a while to get all our ducks in a row.”
Chance gave me access to his money? The day we got married? No wonder it took him so long to come to the bedroom at the Sapphire hotel!
This isn’t a marriage of convenience. This is real, and now I feel sick for ever doubting him. And did I honestly believe he was capable of murder? What the hell was I thinking?!
“I’ll have to call you back, Mr. Thompson,” I say absently. “Something very important has come up. Thanks for calling.”
I thumb the phone off without waiting for a reply. As luck would have it, Pearce is hanging up from his own call.
I have to play this close to the vest, just like Chance would. But it’s all I can do to keep from grabbing Pearce’s scrawny neck and choking the answers I want out of him.
“Just as I suspected,” he says. “They have Chance in custody. They’re already on the way here to debrief me on what I know about Dacosta’s murder. I can only imagine how they’ll react to my information about the missing CIA money.”
Before I can say anything, I hear the door open behind me. Tre walks in, looking concerned.
“Sara, what are you doing here?” he asks.
“I wanted to talk to her about selling her shares,” says Pearce. “But as fate would have it, she’s also going to be able to sit in on my discussion with the people in the Department of Defense. They have Chance.”
Tre’s eyes pop. “What?!”
“They’re just holding him until they can get my story,” Pearce grins. “They’ll turn him over to the FBI after that. They’re aware of how delicate the situation is; they don’t want to bring unnecessary attention to any of this. I imagine they’ll also want to know about Ms. Bishop’s time on the run with Chance.”
“Sara,” Tre says to me. “I didn’t know about this. I didn’t want to see Chance end up in custody.”
My fury isn’t just contained to Pearce. I’m still appalled that Tre could turn on Chance the way he did. What kind of friend – what kind of brother – would do that?
Then it hits me: I turned on him, too. What kind of wife would do that? Who am I to be all high and mighty with Tre?
“There’s a lot more going on here than you think there is,” I say. “And when the DoD gets here, I’m going to make sure I fill in the holes in your story, Quentin.”
He gives me a startled look. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m sure they’ll be very interested in how you just happened to find my name in the phone book that morning of the board meeting,” I say coldly. “And speaking of coincidences, isn’t it funny how I also happen to be the investigator who has a background with Sebastian Dacosta?”
Tre looks like his head is about to explode.
“Wait,” he says. “You knew Dacosta before all of this happened?”
Suddenly Pearce looks like a slug is trying to crawl down his throat.
“I did some work for him late last year,” I say. “He asked me all sorts of personal questions. I thought he was hitting on me. Now I can’t help but think he wasn’t interested in dating me at all; he just wanted to know more about me for whatever the hell plan Quentin here has cooked up.”
Tre glares at Pearce. “Is this true?”
“She’s obviously clutching at straws,” he says. “She can’t resist rushing to Talbot’s rescue, no matter how much evidence there is to prove he’s a dangerous man and that he married her to keep her from testifying.”
He turns to me. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sara. I know how hard that must be for you.”
At that moment, the intercom on Pearce’s desk buzzes.
“We’ve had your secretary called away on urgent business, Mr. Pearce,” says a male voice. “May we come in?”
He grins as he walks to the door. “Now that my friends are here, we’ll all have the opportunity to tell our stories,” he says. “I’d be happy to cover bets on which one they’re going to believe.”
Chapter Seventy-Four
74. CHANCE
What the hell is Sara doing here? That wasn’t supposed to be part of this!
Pearce looks at the men leading me in by my cuffs and frowns.
“Where’s Dresden?” he demands.
“Major Dresden has asked us to take the case from here,” says the silver-haired gentleman. “I’m Johnston, this is Frey.”
The bald man who subdued me in the park nods.
“Of course, you already know Mr. Talbot,” says Johnston.
“Yes, indeed,” Pearce grins. “Always a pleasure, Chance.”
I’ll bet, you little prick. If I wasn’t in these cuffs…
“These are my associates, Tre Carter and Sara Bishop.” He pretends to be embarrassed. “Pardon me, I mean Sara Talbot, of course.”
Johnston nods acknowledgement. “The major said you had some sensitive information that might help us resolve this more quickly, sir. We’re all ears.”
Sara’s eyes lock on mine. I wish I could read what’s going on behind them right now. All I can do is hope this turns out. And that she can forgive me.
“Well,” says Pearce. “As I told Dresden, my partners and I received some rather shocking information from Sebastian Dacosta before he was killed. As I’m sure you’re aware by now, Mr. Dacosta served with Mr. Talbot in Iraq and was an early employee of Atlas Security under the now-deceased founder, Patrick Sullivan.”
Johnston nods. “Before we go on, who are these partners you mentioned?”
Pearce looks surprised by the question. “Oh. Well, I suppose if you need to know. It’s a privately held trust run by a family from New Jersey.”
“Uh-huh,” Johnston says, scribbling in a notebook. “And the names of the principals?”
Pearc
e looks uncomfortable. “The head’s name is Tony Arturo.”
And just like that, I know what Pearce was trying to do. What he’s still trying to do.
“Okay,” says Johnston. “Please continue.”
“Well, Mr. Dacosta was an associate of Mr. Arturo, you see. When Mr. Arturo talked about buying Atlas, Mr. Dacosta gave him some information about how the company managed to expand so quickly several years ago.”
“And how was that?” Johnston asks, still scribbling.
“He said Patrick Sullivan managed to funnel money from a CIA counter-terrorism operation in northern Iraq back into the States, where he used it to fund the corporate expansion.”
Johnston looks up from his notebook, eyes wide. “You realize what you’re saying? You’re talking about treason.”
“Is that the proper legal term?” Pearce asks. “Well, if you say so.”
Suddenly Tre interrupts, holding his hands up as if there’s a gun pointed at him.
“Look, maybe we all need to take some time here to cool down. Treason isn’t a word we want to be throwing around randomly here.”
Johnston eyes him up. “We’ll be talking to you soon enough, Mr. Carter. Right now, Mr. Pearce has the floor.”
“Well, the rest is fairly simple,” says Pearce. “Mr. Talbot found out about it at the time and threatened to turn in Patrick Sullivan. He blackmailed his boss into making him a partner and leaving him Sullivan’s own shares in his will.”
“All right,” Johnston nods. “And how does this tie in to Dacosta’s death?”
Pearce frowns. “Isn’t it obvious? Talbot found out Dacosta had talked to my partner and he killed him to shut him up.”
I’m waiting to see what happens next when fate throws me a curveball that I never would have seen coming.
Sara comes forward, eyes blazing, and stands beside me. She turns my head to hers and plants a long, deep, powerful kiss on my mouth. It’s like a splash of cool water on a brutally hot day, and I savor every last drop of it.
“Ahem.” Johnston clears his throat. “If you wouldn’t mind not kissing the prisoner. We tend to frown on that sort of thing.”
“I don’t really give a shit what you frown on,” she says, turning to Pearce. “And I’ve had just about enough of you trashing my husband, you little prick.”
My heart pumps faster with every word. She believes me. Thank God, she believes me. It was the worst part of this whole ordeal, not knowing if she still trusted me. Knowing that she’s behind me in this is all I need. Nothing else matters.
Meanwhile, Pearce is sputtering.
“Of course his wife is going to say that!” he fumes. “Ask her how long they were together before they got married! Conveniently right after the information about Atlas’s investment came to light.”
Johnston looks at Sara and shrugs. “You seem to have something to say, Mrs. Talbot. Be my guest.”
“Oh, I have a lot to say, but right now, I want to apologize to Chance.” She turns to face me, eyes wide and swimming with tears. “I’m so sorry I doubted you. I knew you couldn’t murder anyone. And I don’t believe that you blackmailed Sully. Or that Sully stole that money. I believe everything you told me.”
I’ve got tears in my own eyes now. “There’s nothing for me to forgive,” I say. “You reacted the way anyone would have, because I wasn’t completely honest with you. I should have been, and I’m sorry.”
She kisses me again, pulling me tight against her lips. It’s desperate, the kind of kiss you give before the jail cell slams closed.
We touch foreheads and she looks into my eyes.
“It’s a good thing you gave me access to your accounts,” she says. “I can get your defense team prepared. We’re going to fight this. The charges against you, the sale, all of it. I’ve got your back.”
I smile. “I never doubted it for a moment, babe.”
“I love you,” she whispers. “Whatever comes our way, no matter what, I love you.”
“I love you, too. And I’m ready to fight with you.”
Now it’s Tre clearing his throat. We both look over at him. Sara looks like she’s spoiling for a fight, but he surprises her by holding up a hand.
“I know you love him, Sara,” he says. “But I’m here to tell you, Chance isn’t above lying. In He’s been lying for weeks now.”
Tre turns to face Pearce and smiles widely. “In fact,” he says, “both of us have.”
Chapter Seventy-Five
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 in
to 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?”