“Yes.”
“It was a diversion,” I said confidently.
“How did you know?”
There was a collective breath held in the room, and I could hear it and feel it even without the benefit of turning to look.
“What did you do?”
“Not me.”
“No,” I agreed, “because you were here with us. But you put something in play, had your men moving around the chessboard at your direction.”
The honey-colored eyes got big and wide, and his mouth dropped open. “You are very good at this, Marshal.”
“I’ve had lots of practice.”
“Yes. He said you play the game well.”
“But this isn’t his game. It’s yours.”
Quick flashing smile as he squeezed my hand in his. “Yes.”
“And you’re sick of someone.”
“I am.”
“Someone you hate?”
He nodded.
“Who’s been bugging you?” I said, looking up at Ryerson. “A thorn in your side.”
Kelson gasped. “Oh my God, how did you know it was Ryerson?”
“You report to him, and you hate it.”
“I do.”
“Because you’re so much smarter than him.”
He nodded hard. “I am.”
“But he’s been there in your way this whole time.”
“He certainly has.”
I thought a moment, reached out to pat his hand, and then slipped from his grasp, leaning back to study him. “You lied about the names. There’s no more guys in the Bureau reporting to Hartley. You would never let that happen.”
Kelson clapped his hands. “Oh my God, Marshal, you are brilliant.”
“You’re not playing the long game for a reduced sentence; this is a short one because you want the hell out of here.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Exactly.”
“You want to be with Hartley, but you had to do something to prove your loyalty, and in the process, also punish your boss, show him up for being stupid. Show everyone what went on right under his nose.”
His eyes were glazed over; he looked drunk. “Yes. All of that.”
“So you did what he couldn’t,” I went on, feeling Ian slide his hand off my leg as he pressed his shoulder against mine. He needed the closeness, and so did I. Just watching Kelson happily go insane in front of me was frightening. How people so lost themselves in jealousy and hatred, or in his case, madness, was ultimately so very sad. “With your men, with Hartley’s contacts, you got three of the most wanted and killed them.”
Kelson beamed at me.
“You showed up your boss, impressed Hartley, and used the diversion from this morning to do what?” I asked solemnly. “What was your plan this morning?”
“Punishment,” he said robotically.
“Punish who? Your boss?”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. It clicked in my head, and I turned to look at Ryerson, who was sitting there shell-shocked after all he’d heard in the last five minutes. It had to be hard to find out a colleague, someone you saw every day, harbored such anger, such hatred for you.
“Sir,” I said softly, “where is your family?”
He blanched.
Ian was out of his chair, heading for the door. Kage grabbed Ryerson’s arm and hauled him after Ian. The room emptied in a blur, and Rodriguez and Brodie went as well, which surprised me, but they were new.
I knew why Ian and Becker and Kage had left. It was their job, and there was coordinating to do. Everyone else, they were just scrambling, and it left me and Kelson alone.
“Who did you take?”
“His wife,” he answered.
“Why would you take her?” I asked, aware that we were alone but not afraid even for a moment. Kelson could hurt me if he had a gun or if he surprised me. Since neither was an option, I was good.
“Because he took women.”
He meant Hartley. “But he seduced them. Is that what you did?”
Suddenly he could not hold my gaze.
“We both know you didn’t,” I baited him. “You don’t have his charm.”
“How do you know?” Kelson spat, the anger flaring fast.
“Because you’re not using any on me,” I advised, staring holes through him.
Hartley never missed an opportunity to try to seduce me—not sexually, never that, but instead to his side, to stand with him, to go with him, to be his man. I had no doubt that, even more than Hartley wanted to hurt me, he wanted me to simply be his to call. At the same time, the second I gave in, he’d value me less for being weak enough to be spellbound.
It was a fine line. How many people enjoyed the hunt, the chase, but lost interest once their quarry gave in? How many people liked the bad boys or girls, the ones who didn’t care, but as soon as they had an epiphany and fell in love, suddenly they seemed weak and unappealing? For Hartley, people were like that. The second they gave in to him, he was done with them, which was when he changed them from women into art. He’d told me once that in death, he restored their beauty and grace, and even though he still showed what they had done, what kind of people they truly were, he still made them more than they were. The fact that I had never been bespelled by him did more to ensure my survival than anything else.