Fallen Empire (Dirty Empire)

“If you did, I promise you, I’ll find out.” She considers her next words. “There seem to be a lot of people going missing lately. Some, ending up dead. And they all have ties to you two.”

“Coincidental.”

“I don’t believe in coincidence when it comes to criminals. There’s always a link.”

“Good thing then, last I checked, we’ve never been convinced of any crimes.” My patience is thin tonight. I want her gone.

“I don’t know about you, Gabe, but this is feeling an awful lot like an interrogation and given we’re the ones who nearly died, I find that shocking. Are you accusing us of something, Agent Lewis? Should we call our lawyer? He can be here within ten minutes.” Caleb’s voice has taken on a hard quality. He’s had enough of playtime, too.

Her throat bobs with a swallow. She knows she’s pushed us as far as she can. “I’m looking for Michelle Banks and Mercy Wheeler. I know they both accompanied you to Las Vegas. I have some follow-up questions for them about the night of the explosion.”

“We were all there together. What could they tell you that we couldn’t?” Caleb counters.

“That’s what I’m wondering. We’ve checked their residences and they’re not there. Their neighbors haven’t seen them. They both came home from Vegas with you, didn’t they?” Her eyebrow arches in question, as if she is not 100 percent convinced of that.

I knew this was coming. My stomach clenches. “Mercy left when we got home. I have no idea where she went.”

Lewis’s gaze narrows a touch before she can smooth over her expression. “And Michelle Banks?”

“She’s inside. I’ll go and get her for you.” Caleb casts a warning glance my way—reminding me to keep my cool—before disappearing inside.

Lewis and I are left alone outside, her mute partner lingering out of earshot.

Her lips twist as she studies me. “I heard you left the hotel yesterday morning and didn’t return until last night. Where did you go?”

She’s not even trying to hide the fact that they have surveillance on us. “Out for a drive.”

“In Nevada?”

“Am I not allowed?”

“Of course you are, but you can understand why that would seem odd, right? Come to Vegas with your girlfriend and leave her at the hotel to go for a long drive. You did leave her in the hotel, right?”

“I told you already, she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Or maybe she was occupied by your brother. Seeing as you two share everything—”

“Not her,” I snap before I can stop myself.

She crooks her head, watching me steadily. “So, she is yours.”

“Yes.” Mercy is mine. She has been since the moment I laid eyes on her. And I’ll do anything to get her back.

“Then where is she? Because I wouldn’t take you for the kind of man who didn’t know where your woman was at all times. Especially so soon after someone tried to kill you.”

“You obviously don’t know me then.” My phone vibrates in my pocket. As much as I’m itching to answer it, I stay my hand. It’s not the phone I use for legitimate business, which means it’s either Stanley, or Donny, or my father.

Or it could be Bane.

Lewis can’t overhear any of those conversations.

“Maybe not, but I know your type and you’re not at all unique. I know that Ms. Wheeler is scheduled to work on Monday, and she never misses a day. You know, her boss said she’s only ever taken one sick day in all the years she’s worked at that drug rehab center?”

Great. An FBI agent has been talking to Mercy’s boss. It’s not bad enough she’s been abducted, but my shit is bleeding into all aspects of her life. “You seem to be very focused on my girlfriend. Why is that?”

We spend a few long moments in a staring match that tells me everything I need to know. Lewis thinks I found out she was trying to flip Mercy and killed her for it.

“Let’s cut the shit. I expect to see Mercy at work on Monday and if I don’t, I’ll consider her to be a missing witness to a multiple homicide by a crime family. And the people in this house were the last to see her alive. You just confirmed that.”

Monday morning. That’s thirty-six hours from now. Will Stanley have found Bane’s hideout by then?

The front door swings open. Michelle and Caleb stroll out, arm in arm.

“Caleb says you want to speak to me about the plane explosion?” Michelle asks, tucked into Caleb’s side. It’s all an act, but Michelle is playing along, her hand landing on Caleb’s stomach affectionately. Behind them, Moe lingers, taking this babysitting duty far too seriously.

Lewis’s dissecting eyes sit on her. “Actually, I think I got the answers I needed. Have a good night, gentlemen.” To me, she adds, “I will be back here, and it’ll be with a warrant next time.” She strolls toward the black sedan, her hips swinging with her steps, more swagger than even Caleb can muster on a good day.