Page 191 of Chandelier Enthralled
Chad continued. “An operation was disguised as humanitarian aid but was used to destabilize a country for geopolitical advantage.”
I eased the book out of Chad’s hands and flipped through the pages. A familiar name appeared, that of oil barren Lance Merrill, the man who was now dead.
Reading quickly, I realized Dean had uncovered Lance Merrill’s purchase of land in the very same country Jewel had destabilized.
I slapped a hand over my mouth.
“What?”
“This is dangerous to know.”
“It’s why they killed him.”
“Do you think they knew he had this?”
“He asked them about it, point blank.”
Which was suicide.
“Why would he blatantly put himself in harm’s way?” I couldn’t fathom the bravery.
“Because he was a brilliant journalist who cared about the issues that affected innocent people.”
“They got rich off the deaths of millions.” My throat tightened at the realization.
“War is profitable. When countries are decimated, in come the contractors.”
“But Jewel and Lance helped cause the war?”
“Then came in with profit on their minds.”
“Mass murder.” I hated this unbearable truth.
I had dreamed of offering the world so much, uncovering secrets that could change lives, make them better, but this was beyond us. This was the most dangerous discovery of all.
Chad tucked Dean’s notebook into his jacket pocket. He gave me a slow, steady smile, as though only now realizing he could trust me. It was a strange kind of bonding moment. As though all that had gone before us, the tension, his hatred for me, our misunderstandings, and even my privilege, had dissipated in these passing seconds.
The scale of what he had discovered was staggering. In these documents was proof Dean had gotten too close to exposing the truth.
“If you reveal this you would have to go into hiding,” I said. “But, if you release it anonymously, you might get some peace of mind. You would remain safe. It would beyoufinishing Dean’s work.”
“Maybe you could help me?”
I nodded. “If you like.”
We both heard footsteps in the living room, and Chad met my startled gaze and then mouthed, “Chloe?”
I gave a nod, hoping it was her.
Silence.
The hairs on my forearms started to prickle. If it was Chloe, why hadn’t she called out or come to see us? Why were we standing here over a minute later, looking toward the door, both of us sensing something was wrong?
I squeezed my eyes shut, recalling there was only one way in and one way out.
I moved closer to the doorway, with Chad following, and listened some more.
The information we had here was explosive. Maybe someone else was searching for it.
