Page 92 of Quiet Protector
“Because she knows the results won’t swing in her favor this time around,” Grayson answers on Phillipa’s behalf. “She has her ex-husband on a knife’s edge. If he doesn’t do exactly what she wants when she wants, he won’t see his son.”
“Bobby isn’t his son,” I argue, shouting.
Phillipa’s dark, stormy eyes dance between mine. “We know that, Melody, but Louis doesn’t.” Her tone reveals she feels truly sorry for another victim of Ophelia’s.
“Can he be turned? Surely, he’d consider siding with us if his son’s livelihood was on the line. If any of this is true…” I scan the documents showing numerous payments between the Castros, the Petrettis, and Louis’s many bank accounts. “He and Ophelia are looking at over twenty years. Who will support their son then? Has anyone asked him that?”
Grayson shrugs. “The hierarchies in IA aren’t willing to test that angle just yet. They’re still gathering intel.”
“They’re always gathering intel,” Phillipa and I say at the same time.
I don’t want to smile, but I can’t help it. If you can change the color of her hair and exclude her Mediterranean skin coloring, we have a lot of similarities. She’d be a good pick for BrandonifI were willing to give him up.
It’s a pity for Phillipa I willneverdo that.
“What about the DNA company used to conduct Isaac’s test? Would they still have Bobby’s DNA on file?” What I’m asking is illegal and somewhat imprudent considering the two people seated across from me are government officials, but I’m so desperate to get answers for Brandon, I am willing to risk it. My daddy always said I could tiptoe onto the wrong side of the law as long as I found my way back. I’ve never been tempted before, but I’d do anything for Brandon.
My spine straightens when reality dawns. “Is that why you were attempting to break in? You were going to secure BJ’s DNA without his permission.” I can’t tell if I’m angry or pleased with my assumption. It could be a combination of them both. I hate that they were planning to take away Brandon’s God-given rights, but I also understand their desperateness for answers.
I realize I’m way off the mark when Phillipa shakes her head. “I came for his shoebox of photos. We wanted to do a facial comparison of Brandon and Bobby at the same age. We needed to make sure our theory had credit before bringing our findings to Brandon.” The edginess on her face softens when she mutters, “Your confirmation made facial profiling unnecessary.”
After a few moments of silent ruminating, I get desperate. “If I could get you a sample of BJ’s DNA, would you be able to compare it to Bobby’s sample on file?”
I’m hit with a second brutal blow today when Grayson shakes his head. “Most companies retain samples for six months. That wasn’t the case this time around.”
“Isaac asked them to be destroyed earlier?” I say, filling in the words Grayson didn’t articulate. When he nods, my chest deflates. “Then, we need to convince Ophelia to do the right thing.”
Phillipa’s scoff is louder than Grayson’s. “You’re talking about a woman who allegedly distributed fertility drugs, scalpels, and medical equipment to a cartel organization without asking a single question. All she sees is money signs, Melody. She isn’t a good person.”
“Then, we’ll use that to convince her.” When unease flares through both Phillipa and Grayson’s eyes, I talk faster, “If Bobby is BJ’s biological son, he has a fundamental right to see him. Family law won’t allow Ophelia to repress his rights.”
My eyes snap to Grayson when he grumbles, “They can if Ophelia proves Brandon is unstable.”
“He’s depressed, Grayson,” I snap back, even though I’m confident the old Brandon is emerging quicker than anyone could have predicted. “That doesn’t make him incapable of being a parent. He just needs some extra help and understanding. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
“Grayson wasn’t referencing Brandon’s stability now. He’s talking about the charges Ophelia ignored once she had a new target hooked.” Phillipa opens a case file I haven’t seen in years before spinning it around to face me. “If we push too hard to prove what weallbelieve is true, Ophelia will shove back harder.”
“He’s his son, Phillipa. You can’t expect him to give him up because he’s being threatened with false charges. If you are, you clearly don’t know who BJreallyis.” I push the file back to her side of the desk before dropping my eyes to my watch. “You need to leave. BJ is due home at any moment.”
Phillipa is reluctant to leave, but Grayson jumps straight up to his feet. “What are you going to tell him?”
I want to say nothing. I want to pretend this is a problem for another day, but since that will make me just as bad as Ophelia, I shrug instead. “Give me a second to catch my breath before asking again.”
For the first time since I’ve known him, a serious mask slips over Grayson’s face. “Do you want me to be here when you tell him?”
“No,” I answer without pause for thought. “But, can you leave that?” I nudge my head to the file Phillipa is in the process of putting away. “If we want to beat Ophelia at her game, we need to get one step ahead of her. BJ is the best agent to do that.”
Grayson nods, fully agreeing with me. “All right.” He shifts on his feet to face Phillipa when a disbelieving huff leaves her mouth. “Come on, Pip. It’s the least you can give the guy after how much he helped you.” He yanks her the rest of the way over the fence when he adds, “If it weren’t for him, you would have never gotten Castro.”
Phillipa folds her arms in front of her chest. “Castro is dead.”
“Now,” Grayson fires back with a chuckle. “Henry waited for you to pry a lifetime of secrets out of him before he tied off the loose end.”
Having no plausible defense, Phillipa huffs out, “Fine,” before dumping the file onto the dining table and hightailing it out of Brandon’s apartment. Grayson is nipping at her heels two seconds later. I can’t hear what he riles her about during their fourteen-floor descent, but I’m grateful that their cars disappear from Brandon’s street just as his Hellcat pulls into his assigned parking bay.
Needing a few minutes to get my headspace right, I slot Ophelia’s file between two magazines in the rack in the living room before heading for the shower. A relieved breath vibrates my lips when I remove the sound processors from behind my ears. You know the pain you get when sunglasses dig into the back of your ears from prolonged usage? It’s the same for cochlear implants, just more painful.
When I first got them done, I asked Julian to place me onto a candidate list to trial the new fully implantable implants. That’s how much I hated the feeling of constant heaviness behind my ears. Mercifully, the processors shrunk each time they were updated, so I declined the trial when I was approved.
