Page 172 of Heresy

It takes a liar to know a liar. Gabe catches my eyes and calls bullshit.

“She means more than that. I think it’s time you’re honest about it. We’re all a little tired of watching you dance around the truth in your stubborn denial.”

Asshole.

I didn’t call out his crap when he was in denial about Ivy.

The least he could do is return the favor.

If he had his usual drink in hand, I’d walk over there and douse him with it.

Thankfully, Tanner returns this discussion back to the original topic.

“So we don’t know how Scott got here. We don’t know where the safe house is. We don’t know anything about who rented the car Shane saw. What the fuck else do we not know?”

Apparently, Gabe’s run through the same train of thought as me. I barely listen to the rundown.

“We don’t know how Scott or Jerry knew to look for Shane and Brinley here, or how to find them at this hotel. We don’t know why Jerry is working with Scott if Scott did in fact try to kill Brinley. We don’t know why Jerry is working with the governor. We don’t know where the servers are or what’s on them. We don’t know—”

“For fuck’s sake,” Tanner interrupts. “Let’s try this a different way because that list is exhaustive. What do we know?”

“We still don’t know where Everly is,” Jase offers.

All our eyes shift to him. Tanner scowls.

“Keep up, dumbass. We’re on the list of what we do know, and nobody gives a shit about Everly at this point.”

I’m glad he said it because the rest of us were definitely thinking it.

Jase makes a disgruntled noise but does the intelligent thing for once and shuts his trap.

Taylor does a random fist pump. “Fuck yeah.”

Then says nothing.

All our eyes shift to him. Tanner, again, speaks first.

“Care to share with the class, Taylor?”

He looks up to find us all staring at him.

“Oh, sorry. I was just about to say we do know how and when Scott got to Georgia. I just found the manifest.”

His fingers go back to the keyboard, his eyes intently on the screen.

We’re all waiting, but Taylor doesn’t elaborate. I lose my fucking patience.

“Do you need a talking stick or something? What did you find out?”

“Oh, sorry again. Was just chasing another thread.”

He looks up and slides his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.

“Scott flew by private plane which is owned by D&B Enterprises, a textiles company run just outside of Maine. He landed in Georgia on Monday around eight in the morning.”

Tanner’s brows pull together. “A textiles company?”

“That’s the new thread I’m chasing.”

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