There’s no doubt we’ve formed bonds over the last five days, especially with as much time that we’ve spent together. I hope when all of this is said and done, perhaps we can continue friendships on the outside. Of course, that’s assuming I stay inPittsburgh. The future has yet to be forecast between me and Penn.
Penn puts our luggage in the back and offers me the front seat next to Malik, but I shake my head, taking the rear instead. Penn gives my hand a gentle squeeze before closing the door on me and hopping in front. I manage a smile, even though unease scrapes through me like sandpaper. Whatever’s waiting for us isn’t going to be small. There’s no way Kynan McGrath would want us to meet with him unless he had important news.
The drive is silent. Malik doesn’t elaborate, and I know better than to ask. If it’s urgent, it’ll be explained when it needs to be. Still, the quiet gives my thoughts too much room to wander. Worry, fear, dread—all of it churns together and the sweet memories of the last five days start to fade.
At Jameson Force headquarters, everything moves quickly. We go through the same security checks and then we’re ushered upstairs to a sleek conference room where Kynan waits for us at a long glass and chrome table.
Kynan motions for us to sit and we do, Penn and I side by side opposite him.
“We’ve made big progress,” he says without preamble, sounding almost grave.
My grip tightens around the armrest and Penn places a hand on my thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Bebe tracked several burner phone pings to an apartment building in Long Island.”
“Jace is from Long Island originally,” Penn says. I didn’t know that, but I wasn’t close to all the players. Only Nathan.
Kynan nods. “He’s apparently been renting there since he got out of prison a year ago. Our investigation shows that he’s currently unemployed so we’re not sure how he’s supporting himself. Malik went by to speak with him, but no one answered.”
“He was inside though,” Malik offers as he stands near the door. “He wouldn’t answer our calls either.”
Penn clasps his hands on the table and leans forward. “So, because the texts came from a phone pinging to a location where Jace lives, that’s proof he’s behind all this?”
Malik nods. “At least he’s one of them, we believe. We also followed up with Ryan DeLuca and Colton Briggs.”
“They talked?” I ask.
“Ryan admitted to throwing the bottle at Penn,” Malik says. “Claims that’s as far as he went though. Said he was drunk and it was a one-time thing. He’s not been in touch with Jace.”
“Do you believe him?” Penn asks.
Malik shrugs. “We couldn’t find any electronic communications between Jace and Ryan. Nothing between Jace and Colton either, for that matter, so it seems unlikely they’re involved.”
I shift in my seat. “Did you talk to Colton?”
Malik nods. “Didn’t say much. But he was sweating like a politician at a lie detector test. Body language screamed rage at even being questioned, but again… we got nothing to tie him to Jace.”
“So Jace is our guy,” Penn murmurs.
“But what about my brother?” I lean forward, crossing my arms on the table. “He’s got the most reason to be upset. Maybe he was directing Jace to do those things. Were you able to talk to him?”
“Yes,” Kynan says. “And he was actually helpful.”
My breath catches. I go still.
Peter was helpful? But why? He hates me.
“What?” I ask, but it sounds more like a plea. “Peter?”
Kynan nods again. “He had a lot to tell us.”
Penn’s hand comes around my back for comfort and I glance up at him, unsure of how I feel about this. Am I supposed to begrateful to a man who killed an innocent boy and then cut me out of his life along with my parents because I did the right thing?
Penn stares back at me with empathy.
“He asked to speak to you.” My head whips back Kynan’s way and I’m not sure I heard him correctly. He clarifies further. “He’s here.”
“Here in Pittsburgh?” I whisper, panic clawing at my insides.
