Hard to Let Go (8 page)

A few minutes passed in tense silence as everyone hovered, hoping for more useful revelations from Kat’s information. “Wait, guys. The Singapore bank. This is the Singapore bank,” Charlie said, his blue eyes wide as he made a sweep of the group.

Wary hope slithered through Beckett’s gut. A definitive connection between Seneka and WCE would go a long way to ensuring they weren’t unnecessarily making an enemy out of an organization as powerful as Seneka.

“The same bank as Frank’s account?” Nick asked, leaning in.

“Exactly the same,” Charlie said. “God, I called this number myself when I was trying to figure out what the bank statements I was getting were all about.”

“And, look, there are calls in both directions between the bank and the contact number,” Marz said, tracing his finger over the screen.

Kat stepped up next to Nick, seemingly engaging in what they were doing for the first time. “The bank account information you have—the documents that show all the deposits by WCE,” she said. “Can you see if there’s any correlation between deposit dates and calls?”

Damn. That was smart. Beckett nodded. “That would definitely nail things down more if so.”

“Where are the statements, Marz?” Charlie asked.

After what seemed like a lot of shuffling of stacks of papers on his desk, Marz produced a collection of documents held together with a black binder clip. “Right here.” He scooted closer to Charlie and together they pored over them, their gazes pinging back and forth between the statements and the screen.

“Fuck me running,” Marz said. “There’s a call from the bank to the contact number within forty-eight hours of every deposit into Merritt’s account.”

Murmurs of surprise and cautious celebration all around.

Beckett wanted to throw a fist pump. If that was actually the sort of thing he did. And while he was thinking of out-of-character ways of celebrating this really fucking good development, he wanted to kiss Katherine Rixey, too. Without her, they never would’ve gotten their hands on this information. Not easily and not in the time frame they needed, anyway. “Seneka and WCE are connected, then. Have to be. Either they’re one and the same absolutely or WCE is a rogue player inside Seneka. Either way leads to the same result.”

“We have our proof, baby,” Marz said, turning around and grinning.

The whole group engaged in a small celebration. Clasping hands and offering congratulations.

“What happens after the contact phone number goes out of service?” Nick asked, his expression still serious. He wasn’t yet joining in the celebration.

“I was wondering the same thing,” Shane said, arms folded across his chest.

“Let’s take a gander at that,” Marz said, shifting around. “I’ll search for the bank’s phone number and see if it pairs up with any other Seneka extensions.” His fingers clipped over the keyboard. “Nothing.”

“So someone at Seneka was in regular contact with the Singapore bank at which Frank Merritt received the dirty monies from his op, around the days on which he received payments. But once Merritt died, that communication ceased,” Shane said. “Anyone else feeling like that goes way beyond coincidental?”

A round of slow, wary agreements rose up. No one wanted to rush to an unfounded conclusion, but this seemed more and more certain.

Beckett nodded. “I’d say that’s as close to a smoking gun as we’re going to get. Now the question is exactly how we go after an organization as big as Seneka.”

Chapter 8

“W
ouldn’t the next step be to identify who or what WCE and GW are? Look at the personnel files. Gordon Wexler is the chief operating officer, so I know for sure there’s one GW employed there,” Kat said, her stomach finally calming down from the stress of having done something so, so wrong. Even if she knew in her heart that she’d done it for the right reasons.

And at least it was turning out to be useful to the guys. Because the whole thing probably would’ve felt a hundred times worse if she’d violated her professional ethics for nothing.

“That’s a plan,” Marz said, minimizing the phone records and opening the personnel document. “This is just like Christmas morning,” he said, excitement plain in his voice. “What could it be?”

As everyone chuckled, Kat smiled and stretched her neck, trying to work out the tension that had built there. Probably a losing proposition. Especially as she could almost swear that she kept feeling Beckett’s gaze skate over her. Like he was keeping an eye on her.

It didn’t take Marz long to work through the list. “Okay, we’ve got a Gene Humphreys Washington, Greta Marie Wendell, and Gordon Andrew Wexler,” Marz said. “And, for the sake of thoroughness, I’m throwing in a George Winston Albert and Gail W. Saunders as two other potential GWs. No one with the initials WCE, though.”

“Five potentials,” Nick said, a deep frown on his face.

Kat leaned her hands against the cold metal on the back of Marz’s folding chair. “Scroll down. There’s a list that notes date of employment and position. That might help rule the five in or out as
your
GW.”

As everyone watched, Marz moved to that part of the list and checked each of the names. “All the GWs meet the time criteria,” Marz said after a minute. “Washington is listed as a security specialist. Wendell is John Seneka’s executive assistant. And, like Kat said, Wexler is Seneka’s chief operating officer.”

“Two of those people essentially sit at John Seneka’s right hand,” Beckett said, crossing his arms across that big chest. The one that had felt so good to lean against.

“Yup,” Marz said.

“So now we have some new names to research,” Charlie said.

“Yeah,” Marz said. “These are leads we’d never have gotten without Kat.” He peered over his shoulder and looked up at her, then winked. “You Rixeys are good people.”

Kat’s cheeks filled with heat. It was a bit awkward to graciously accept appreciation for having done a not wholly good thing. “Well,” she said, clearing her throat. “Some of us Rixeys are better than others.” She turned on the sass and returned Marz’s wink.

“Dude,”
Jeremy said from where his hip leaned against the desk. Hands out, he shook his head. “Don’t diss your own blood.”

Such a screwball. A lovable screwball, to be sure. But a screwball all the same. She stuck her tongue out at him for old times’ sake.

Jeremy rolled his eyes, but a smile played around his mouth. “Good comeback.”

Kat couldn’t help but chuckle, and she appreciated the bit of levity.

Nick smirked and then heaved a deep breath. “All right, people. Then what’s the plan? Because we need to make some serious headway on this Seneka issue before the Ravens decide they’re too damn impatient to keep waiting for us.”

Marz looked at Charlie. “You game to work?” The blond man nodded. “Then Charlie and I will dive into these names and see what we can find. It’s eight o’clock now. Reconvene at, say, eleven?”

“Given how hard it was to find information on Manny Garza, do you think that gives you enough time?” Shane asked. Apparently, after they’d seen Garza working for the Church Gang with their own eyes, they’d researched him every way they could, but the guy had simply been wiped clean from the internet. They’d only proven his connection to Seneka when they learned his address from Manny’s sister Emilie and raided his house. And damnit if that didn’t stir up Kat’s irritation with Nick for not telling her about all of this. Because what if Garza had been there when they’d raided? What if he’d had company? What if that company had fought back? That situation could’ve gone sour fast. And Kat wouldn’t have ever even known Nick was in trouble in the first place.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Marz said.

Nick nodded. “All right. Eleven
P.M.
it is. Meet back here and we’ll take it from there.”

As the guys engaged in a series of side conversations, Kat took the opportunity to make her escape. She needed food, and she needed a break. And hell if she didn’t need to sit down for a few minutes, because after her afternoon acrobatics, she had some muscle aches in places she hadn’t known she had muscles. For crap’s sake.

Over in her brothers’ apartment, Kat poked around in the fridge to see what she could make herself to eat. The chili had been pretty well decimated, if the small portion left in a single Tupperware bowl was any indication. Unsure of what she wanted, she pulled out a bag of grapes, a jar of olives, and the wheel of brie, which she sliced and laid atop some crackers. Then she plated all of that with a handful of almonds from a tin in the pantry. Satisfied with her snacky dinner, she poured herself a glass of wine and followed the sound of women’s voices back to Nick’s room.

Sure enough, Kat found Becca and Emilie sitting on the dark blue couch in Nick’s office, which connected to his bedroom by a private adjoining hallway. “Knock, knock,” she said. “You all mind some company?”

Becca and Emilie urged her in and made space on the couch. Nick’s office was small but comfortable. A flat-screen TV hung opposite the couch, and a desk with an organizer full of files and forms dominated the side of the room.

As Kat settled, Becca turned to Emilie. “Wine sounds so good. Want a glass?”

“Bring the bottle,” Emilie said with a smile.

“Oh, I like how you think,” Kat said, taking a sip of her chardonnay. Fruity with a hint of oak and nut.

Becca laughed. “One bottle of wine coming right up.” She dashed out of the room.

“How’s it going?” Kat asked Emilie. “I haven’t really gotten to see you today.” And after witnessing Emilie find her dead brother’s body following the attack on Hard Ink just a few days ago, Kat was worried about her, especially since Kat was well aware just how possible it was to put a happy face on when you felt anything but. She held her plate out to Emilie in silent invitation, but the other woman waved her hand.

“It’s going okay,” Emilie said on a sigh. “Honestly, getting to talk to and focus on some of the folks here has helped a lot. Sometimes I just need to get out of my own head for an hour or two.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re finding that helping them is helping you,” Kat said. “Because I think it’s really admirable that you’re doing therapy sessions after everything you’ve been through yourself.” And given what Kat had gleaned over the past few days about what’d happened to Sara, Jenna, and Charlie—for starters, it sounded like a lot of the folks here really needed someone to talk to.

Becca returned with the rest of the bottle of chardonnay and two glasses. She sat, poured the wine, and then the three of them toasted with a round of “Cheers.”

“So, how are you doing, Kat? With everything,” Becca said, taking a sip from her glass.

Kat chuckled, glad to have the opportunity to talk to people who wouldn’t freak out, overreact, or look at her like she might break. “I just asked Emilie the same thing. I’m . . . I don’t know. I’m okay. It’s done now, anyway.”

“I might get how you’re feeling,” Becca said. “When we got Charlie back and the infection in his fingers got worse, I had to pull all kinds of favors to essentially perform a field operation in a borrowed ambulance out back.”

Kat’s eyes went wide. She’d known that the gang had severed two of Charlie’s fingers trying to torture information out of him, but not about the surgery.

“Craziest thing I’ve ever done, and, obviously, it’s really not kosher to use hospital equipment for personal use to perform procedures using not-fully-qualified people.”

“Wow, Becca,” Kat said. “You realize that’s kinda badass, right?”

“It totally is,” Emilie said.

“Didn’t feel that way at the time,” Becca said. “I just wanted you to know I’ve had to make some similar choices lately. I get it, so I appreciate what you did.”

Kat held up her glass. “To doing what has to be done to protect the people you love.” They clinked glasses.

“Amen to that,” Becca said. “I don’t regret a bit of it.”

“Here here,” Emilie said. “If I’d have done that sooner, maybe Manny would still be alive.” She shook her head and heaved a deep breath, her expression bleak but her eyes dry. “Anyway . . .”

“I had another brother,” Becca said, staring at the lamplight playing off her wine. “He died of a heroin overdose when he was twenty-one.”

“I didn’t know, Becca. I’m so sorry,” Emilie said.

“That’s so young, Becca. I’m really sorry,” Kat said. Damn if Becca wasn’t full of surprises tonight. Life really wasn’t for sissies, was it? Kat nibbled at the grapes.

“Well, thanks.” Becca looked at Emilie, a sympathetic glint in her eyes. “The thing is, we can’t save people who don’t let us know how bad things are or how much trouble they’re in.”

Those last words rattled around in Kat’s head where Cole was concerned, because she hadn’t let anyone know how bad his behavior had gotten until things turned physical. But at least she’d taken the steps to get the protective order. If only she’d get confirmation that it had been served to him. Once it had, she’d be able to breathe easier, because no way he’d risk his career, his license, or his freedom over her.

Emilie nodded. “I do know.”

“That’s why seeing Easy open up to a roomful of people about what he’s been going through was one of the most admirable things I’ve ever witnessed. Heart-wrenching, but so damn brave, too.” Becca took another sip of her wine.

“Wait. I’m lost,” Kat said, Becca’s words pulling her from her thoughts. She’d heard a few expressions of concern about Easy during the time she’d been here, but nothing about a heart-wrenching confession.

Becca and Emilie exchanged a meaningful glance, then Becca said, “Everyone else here knows, so I don’t know why you shouldn’t. Last week, Easy admitted to being depressed and having suicidal thoughts. None of us even realized . . .”

Even though Kat didn’t know Easy well, the news was like a sucker-punch to the stomach. Hearing that must’ve killed Nick. “Oh, my God. And you’re helping him?” she asked Emilie, who nodded. Kat pressed a hand to her chest. “Jesus, that makes my heart hurt. Nick was in such a bad place when he got home last year. He became depressed and got hooked on painkillers. And I don’t think he’d have ever asked for help if Jeremy hadn’t realized what was going on. The whole thing scared me almost as much as him being over in Afghanistan.”

“He’s talked about it a little,” Becca said. “That night, after Easy shared everything, Nick admitted . . . well . . . he’d been in a really bad place back then.”

Hearing her worst fears confirmed lodged a knot in Kat’s throat. It also reaffirmed the choice she’d made today. No matter what, if it was within her power to keep Nick from walking down that road again, she’d do it. In a heartbeat. “I’m really happy he has you, Becca. You’re so good for him.”

Becca’s smile was instant and almost blinding, and Kat had seen a similar expression on her brother’s face, too. “That’s definitely mutual,” Becca said.

Kat ate a slice of brie on a cracker and then took a sip of her wine. “All you lovebirds around here. I swear.” She winked as the two other women chuckled.

“No man in your life?” Emilie asked.

Kat about spewed chardonnay from her windpipe. Not many safe ways to answer that one. “No, not really,” she finally said, ignoring the delicious ache in her thigh muscles.

“Seriously?” Emilie said. “You’re gorgeous, brilliant, and have a great job. Men should be lining up at your door.”

Kat affected a tortured sigh. “If only it were so.” Although, just this afternoon a man had in fact waited at her door. And she’d run face first into his amazing body. And then had her wily way with him. Twice.
So not helpful right now, Kat
. “Besides, my last relationship ended poorly, so I’m not looking to get into anything right now.” She didn’t want to say too much, but it did feel good to be able to say something to someone.

“Oh, no. What happened?” Becca asked.

Even though she wouldn’t have minded venting a bit more about Cole’s behavior, the last thing everyone needed was something
else
to worry about. So she shook her head as she ate more of the brie and chose her words carefully. “No big deal. He just had a hard time accepting it was over.”
There. That sounded fairly neutral, right?

Becca frowned. “Ugh. How awkward was that?”

Kat chuckled. “Super-mega awkward.”

“I hate super-mega awkward,” Emilie said. They all laughed.

A knock on the office door, and then Nick popped his head into the opening.

“Speaking of super-mega awkward,” Kat said. Nick rolled his eyes at her.

“Come in, silly man,” Becca said. “It’s your room after all.”