The Price of Grace (Black Ops Confidential 2)

“Did you send me any of this?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. Don’t.”

Don’t? “Okay.”

“How sure are you about this blackmail thing? What is Mukta Parish getting from Senator Rush? She obviously doesn’t need the money.”

No. She didn’t need the money. “It’s only preliminary. But recently, Rush pulled a bill he’d sponsored that would’ve raised the bar on women proving workplace discrimination. Came out of nowhere. It’s the kind of bill Mukta Parish would’ve openly disdained.”

“That’s a bit mild. Almost influence peddling.”

“Not so mild. Some of the senator’s key decisions have resulted in benefit for her companies and power for her family.”

“Like?”

“He supported one of Mukta’s daughters, helped get her a judgeship for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.”

Mack whistled. “Okay. You’ve got me interested. If you’re right, we could take out Mukta. And expose these crazy bitches.”

“Hey. Dial it back.” And don’t call Gracie a bitch unless you want my fist in your face. “What about getting Rush? He’s in this too. Could be after Gracie Parish.”

“Yeah, well, thirty years is a long time to be someone’s lap dog. He could help us here.”

“What? Hold on.” Dusty watched a woman from the club wobble across the gravel parking lot to her friend’s car. Heels, gravel, and lunchtime mojitos didn’t mix. Maybe he should talk to Gracie about paving. “I’m not convinced that what Mukta has on Rush is just an illegitimate kid. Let me do my job.”

Mack grunted. “You think she has something else on Rush? Something dark enough to get him to initiate policy for her for thirty years? Something that made him want to kill his bastard child?”

He did. Because in this instance, going after Gracie felt personal. Or maybe it was just that he took it personally. He intended to find out. “You interested in knowing for sure?”

“Yeah. Let’s step on some toes. I’ll work my end. See what you can uncover between them. And, Dusty, this is it. Get the job done.”

“You picking up the tab now?”

“Yeah. But let’s keep this between us.”

Between them? This was it? Mack was worried. Seemed like time was not on their side. “Will do, Mack.”

Dusty hung up, switched off his car, got out, and faced the heavy fists of July heat as he headed into the club. He’d come to town looking for one case and had stumbled onto something entirely different.

Chapter 29

Gracie held open the back door of Club When? to let one of her chefs, Jack, wrestle boxes of meat through. Once he passed her, she picked up her own box and let the door shut.

They’d had to pick up from her local supplier, because the farm’s delivery truck had broken down. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal, because Gracie padded her deliveries, but she’d been distracted lately by the threat of death, and they were running unusually low on supplies.

After putting away the meat, she apologized to her chefs and returned to her office near the kitchen.

She sat down at her desk to make a record of what they’d received, and her cell rang. When it rains…

She picked up. Leland’s gruff voice greeted her with, “Where did you find Cee?”

Ready, set, avoid. “Philly. She regretted running away and wanted someone to come get her. At midnight.”

Leland gave an exasperated sigh. “She’s a handful.”

Yeah. Which was why they didn’t usually adopt that late, but she wasn’t bringing that up again.

“Why’d you go to the fields yesterday?”

Of course. Gracie considered the bowl of watermelon goodness on her desk. Even went so far as to pick one up, twirl it in her fingers. “I was just reconnecting with nature. Needed a break from the bar.”

A heavyweight pause. A pause that weighed as much as Mike Tyson and Tyson Fury combined. “You’ve changed security protocols at the club. Something we should be aware of?”

Yes. But nothing she’d tell them. “I had an incident in the club. No need to worry about it. Been planning to change things up for a while anyway.”

“Gracie, you know we’re on your side here, right?”

Gracie’s heart sank. Normally, that would be true. Normally, there wouldn’t be any doubt in her mind who could protect her, help her, support her when she was in trouble, but not now. The League was still reeling from the drone attack and the loss of Tony in Mexico. And the truth about the danger she was embroiled in was messy. And somewhat her fault. “I know. Thanks, Leland.”

She hung up. And her cell beeped letting her know the facial recognition software out front had identified someone. She opened the screen. Toots on toast.

John.

A moment later, the door to her office creaked open. She looked up. Her heart jumped into her throat. She pushed it back down with a swallow as her fingers fisted around the Jolly Rancher.

John walked through her door, closed it. She froze. Not just deer-in-the-headlights froze, Neanderthal-trapped-in-ice froze. Only her eyes moved.

He looked the same and different. Still thin, with a runner’s body, but no longer the wiry teen she’d once known. He’d filled out. He was wearing a blue suit, tailored and tapered and too trendy by far. His dark hair slicked back. His dark eyes focused.

And she felt…nothing. Not the stirring of lost love, not the longing that had held her for a decade, not a spark of lust.

John’s perceptive brown eyes traveled up and down her black-and-yellow Club When? T-shirt, scholarly bun, and the startled look on her face.

He nodded. “Hello, Gracie Divine.”

Crud. That was a jab, saying her first and middle names. As if her name were contradictory. He used it when angry, had done so ever since that day she’d told him the shocking truth about her family’s activities—her activities—a shock that had destroyed them.

She sat forward. “It’s been a long time. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Oh, good. Her voice sounded normal. That normalness steadied her breath and her mind. She might be able to get through this.

He ran a hand over his face and through his slicked-back hair, then let out a breath deep enough to dispel old feelings or push them into the past. “I didn’t want to give you a chance to prepare.”

Gracie discreetly reached down and checked the gun attached to the bottom of her desktop. “Prepare for what?”

“I’m here to get you to stop. Stop with the computer. Stop coming by my house. Stop stalking my son.”

They’d detected the backdoor she’d made for Victor on their computers? No way. “I stopped—”

“Don’t lie, Gracie. We saw you.”

Lie? She’d stopped going by after his text. Even though it had killed her. “Was it so wrong, wanting to see him?”

John leaned against the door, as far from her as he could get and still remain in the room. He shook his head. “You don’t get to see him. That’s the agreement. I stay quiet. You stay away. You get your precious League.”

This was it. Her opportunity to tell the truth. And to fight for a chance to be in Ty’s life. “Let’s stop here.” Her heart paddled the breaststroke into her throat. “I need you to know the truth. I didn’t want you to go. After I told you about the League, there was blowback from Momma and Leland.” This felt like betrayal, but it needed to be said. She exhaled a deep breath. “I sent you away, told you I chose the League over you and Ty to protect you—”

“Stop.” John adjusted his tie, coughed. “You asking me to leave was a relief. After you told me about that chip thing under your skin…” His forehead pinched together. Disgust? “I’d planned on going and taking Ty.”

The candy she’d been holding dropped from her hand and onto the desk, cracking inside its translucent wrapper. He’d planned on taking Ty away from her? “You planned on taking Ty away from me? But I thought…you loved me.”

His dark eyes flashed with something—a spark, a memory—and for a moment she saw the young man she’d fallen in love with. “We were young. What did we know of love?”

Like a decade’s worth of candles being blown out, her old image of John vanished in a puff of smoke.

“I loved you. I gave up my son to keep you safe. To keep you whole for him.”

He stared at her. “For me?” He shook his head. “Leland and Momma knew I was going to go. I told them if you fought for custody, I’d reveal what I knew about their illegal activities. If they told you something different, gave you some story…”

For a moment, Gracie’s world tilted on its axis. Everything she’d thought she’d known about giving up John, about being forced to give up John, suddenly shifted. Like when she’d found out Bruce Willis was dead in The Sixth Sense, her mind began unraveling all the clues she’d not seen before.

And the undeniable conclusion. John had threatened Momma and Leland. When Momma and Leland had offered her the choice to take John’s memory or let him go, they were letting her decide what they should do.

She flushed a red so hot it felt like someone held a live wire to her skin. Her cheeks were flames of distress. She’d been an idiot. “So if I’m no longer involved with the League, just a woman who owns a pub, and Ty wants to see me?”

“Come on, Gracie. You have to know that…” He hesitated, and then, “There’s no way I will let Ty anywhere near you or your family. I don’t want him to know what you all do.”