Page 80 of Quiet Protector
It just isn’t to the person I thought it would be.
34
Brandon
Iscrub a hand over my eyes when my phone commences hollering. I fell asleep on my sofa—again—even with it being designed to discourage couch sleepers. Even someone without a dime to their name would choose a cardboard box in a cold alleyway over my couch. It has my back out of whack as well as my mood.
Aware no one would call this early unless it were urgent, I snag up my cell phone, slide my finger across the screen, then squish it to my ear. My caller breaks into a panicked script before I have the chance to issue a greeting. “How did you hack into Dane’s bank accounts? He didn’t leave his shit open for anyone to see. He was pedantic about security.”
My surly mood is heard in my reply. “Good morning to you, too, Alex.”
Not that Alex cares how I’m feeling. He’s as bad as Isaac. Unless it directly affects him, he doesn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone. “You hacked in like you did Regan’s laptop, didn’t you? Hung around until you got what you needed?”
“No. I had a search warrant for averyvalid reason—”
“Dane wasn’t rogue!” he interrupts, having no clue he’s once again shifting his anger onto the wrong person. I’ve spent the last sixteen hours combing through evidence on a case that has nothing to do with me forhim,so the least he could do is give me some fucking respect.
After giving him a moment to calm down, and perhaps myself, I say, “I never said he was.”
The pause must have done Alex some good. He’s thinking more rationally now, albeit a little hesitant. “The warrant was for Kristin?” I barely pop out a halfhearted sigh when he demands, “Tell me everything you know, Brandon.”
“I don’t know anything.” I do, but I’m sure as fuck not giving himallthe details. My first search was illegal, so if news of it gets out, my career will nosedive even more than it already has.
“Tell me everything you fucking know, Brandon!” Confident shouted words won’t rattle me, Alex low-balls with a tasteless threat. “Or I’ll make sure every agency from New York to Burbank knows the real reason you go by an alias.”
Does that mean what I think it does? Is he aware Melody was raped by my brother? If so, it’s fucked he’s using that against me. If I had it my way, I’d drag Madden’s name through the mud. The only reason I’ve kept quiet is because Melody doesn’t want her name associated with a political scandal. She wants to give it the merit it deserves. I owe her that much to see her request through. It’s the least I can do after I failed her so badly.
Although I’m pissed about Alex’s demanding ways, I hit him with a fact that will knock his attitude down a peg or two. “Kristin made a $30,000 payment to Gabriele Francesco two weeks before the FBI’s raid on Substanz.” I give him a second to absorb my first disclosure before hitting him with another. “It was refunded in full the day following Dane’s accident.”
He clicks on rather quickly. “Because the hitman didn’t get his mark?”
An agreeing hum has barely left my lips when someone’s fist pounding into a steering wheel sounds down the line.
“Alex…” I pull my phone away from my ear to check our call is still connected before squashing it back up against it. “Are you there?”
When my question is answered with nothing but silence, I realize Alex wasn’t beating the steering wheel with his fists. He used his cell phone.
Cursing, I disconnect our call before trying Alex’s work number. He didn’t let me finish, so he isn’t just working off half-truths. If he’s going home as suspected, he could potentially walk straight into a death trap.
When the phone in Alex’s office rings out two times in a row, I resort to a new low.
With my number being unknown, I didn’t anticipate for Isaac to answer as quickly as he does. “Unless your calling to tell me what got Isabelle so worked up after seeing you yesterday morning, I don’t have time for you.” His tone is thicker than usual, incapable of hiding his anguish.
“I need Regan’s cell phone number.”
He’s quick to deny any knowledge of her existence, but before he can hang up on me, I aim to sway his opinion on the matter. “I could have hacked into her laptop, but this was quicker and more respectful. Which would you prefer me to do?” When nothing but his burly breaths come down the line, I add, “Please. It’s urgent.”
I don’t know what gets me over the line, the desperateness in my tone or Isaac’s eagerness to keep me out of his records, but he hands over Regan’s details with only the slightest threat. “If I find out this wasn’t critical, my reputationwilllive up to your expectations.”
While murmuring out a halfhearted agreement, I scratch pen to paper, farewell Isaac with a grunt, then punch Regan’s cell phone number into a device tracker I designed during my time with the analyst division of the Bureau. It’s faster than the old version, and it brings up Regan’s location immediately.
It’s worse than I thought.
Alex isn’t just heading straight into the line of fire.
So is his girlfriend.
After punching an alert into the Bureau’s mainframe, announcing gunfire at the Bureau-owned apartment block Alex lives in, I dial Regan’s number while hightailing it to my car. I could get in shit if it’s a false alarm, but I’d rather be cautious than sorry. Some mistakes you can’t undo.
