Fallen Empire (Dirty Empire)

“You know, she hasn’t seen her grandson in eighteen months?”

“Puff isn’t exactly a traditional family man.” He’s got three or four kids with different women back in California, and he’s been incarcerated since before this one was born. But Sasha is the only one to visit him, and rumor has it she’s “the one” for him.

“Neither are we. We’ve never had kids around here before.” Caleb pauses, taking in the spread of food on the table that Michelle also took care of, enough to feed everyone. “It’s nice though, you know?”

“Nice?” I can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes. “They’re hostages and they’re surrounded by a small army of security.”

“Still.”

I’ll admit, this is a nice change from the usual gatherings we host here, where there’s still nudity but far less innocent. The little boy has been in and out of the pool all day, having somehow shed the terror from earlier, his laughter grabbing my attention each time it sounds.

And I’ve found myself watching them and daydreaming that it’s not Sasha but Mercy, laughing as she chases a small child—our child—around this very same pool. They’re ideas that have never crossed my mind before, and now I’m afraid they’re ideas that will never transpire to the real thing.

“We’re taking good care of them,” Caleb cuts into my thoughts.

“Yeah, let’s hope Puff sees it that way when this is all said and done.” He didn’t seem to relax when I explained what was happening and he sure as hell didn’t seem to sympathize.

“Gabe,” Farley hollers, the security phone pressed to his ear. “They just let Special Agent Lewis through.”

Caleb groans. “She’s like a tick that won’t stop feeding on my ass!”

I knew this was coming, but I didn’t expect it for another day or two. “With a warrant?”

Farley shakes his head.

“So, more questions.” This agent is really getting on my nerves.

“I guess we’re doing this outside then? Since we can’t have her coming in here.” Caleb gives a wide-eyed look at our “guests” before leading the way out.

“Twice in twenty-four hours. What a pleasure!” Caleb leans against the hood of his Porsche.

I match his stance, using my Lambo as a prop. Inside the garage, the two vans used in the abductions are tucked away.

“Short trip to Vegas for big gamblers such as yourselves.” Agent Lewis’s heels click against the pavement as she strolls toward us. The same silent blockhead agent that came with her to our penthouse trails her now, surveying his surroundings.

“Just a quickie this time. In and out. Then again, two nights is about all I can handle of the place,” Caleb lies.

“Still…. Vacation together, work together, live together.” Her gaze rolls over my car, and I can’t help but notice the appreciative flash in her eyes. She may be a pain in my ass, but Lewis knows a nice car when she sees one. “Can’t say I’ve ever met brothers who are so close.”

“We share women, too. Thought you should know that since you seem so interested in both of us,” Caleb says with a sly grin, being… well, Caleb.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her responding tight smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Awfully late to be paying a visit. How can we help you again, Agent Lewis?” I force a nonchalant expression. Inside though, I’m panicking. We’re juggling too many balls as it is, and having this woman as an attentive audience while those balls are flying through the air makes things a million times more precarious.

“I thought you’d be more anxious to find out who blew up your plane, but you don’t seem to care.” Her sharp gaze drifts over the front of our house, taking in the security cameras. “Why is that?”

“Wouldn’t want to steal your thunder. Solving crimes is your job, isn’t it?” Caleb folds his arms over his chest. It’s his signature relaxed pose. He’s far better at this game than I am. Then again, ever since Mercy was taken, I’ve been dangling on a frayed rope. “I thought you said the going assumption was our uncle Peter.”

“Yes, and yet we can’t seem to find him or his sons, your cousins Vic and Alexei. Or even Rita Easton. They’ve disappeared, and no one’s seen them for days.”

“They do that sometimes.”

“And you haven’t heard from them at all?”

“No. Like we told you just last night.”

“A lot can change in a day.” She reaches out to test a leaf on our acacia tree. It was one of our mother’s favorites. “In our search for them, we discovered that you two were looking for your cousin, Vic, the night of the explosion. What did you want him for?”

A muscle in my jaw tenses. I hope they don’t notice, but I think Lewis notices far more than most. I can see where this is going, though. The girls at Vic’s seedy strip club must have talked, and now Lewis is attempting to weave a story that pins their murders on us. Wouldn’t that be ironic.