Forgotten Destiny 2 Page 4

  I swallowed hard. “Does the Justice Department know about this? Have you warned them?”

  “Internal Affairs are likely aware,” Max managed.

  “Likely?” I snatched hold of that word. Something told me I shouldn’t be pushing Max this much. Something told me that he’d done nothing but look after me and protect me since he’d met me. But something also told me that I needed to find out exactly where Max Knights stood on the line between good and evil, sooner rather than later.

  Max brought up his fingers and brushed them over his chin. “I imagine they have figured out that there are plants in their warlock division, and they are tracking them down.”

  “But you don’t know – because you haven’t told them. Why haven’t you told them?” I wasn’t pushing anymore. I was shoving.

  For Max’s part, he didn’t look insulted as he stared at me evenly. “Because it would bring up the uncomfortable question of how I knew in the first place.”

  I was just about to lean back, cross my arms, and tell Max that that was a seriously shady reason, then Josh did something surprising. He unclenched his arms from around his middle, shifted forward, and placed a hand on mine.

  My hands were still clamped on the edge of the kitchen table.

  I blinked at Josh in surprise.

  “It’s okay, Beth. And stop pushing Max.”

  My shock at Josh tenderly touching my hand soon wore off. “How is it okay, and why should I stop pushing?”

  “Because Max is trying to dodge around the fact that I was the one who told him about the plant in the first place.” Josh leaned back, wiped a hand down his face, and scratched his jaw.

  I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t think of what to say.

  Josh was an idiot. He was irascible. He was nasty. He was the housemate from hell.

  But he was meant to be good.

  And withholding information from the police – potentially critical information – was not good.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Josh said as he clamped a hand over his mouth and spoke between his fingers. “I didn’t have any choice.”

  I recoiled at that. I looked at Max, and yeah, there were daggers in my eyes.

  Max brought his hands up and spread them wide. “Josh didn’t mean I forced him.”

  “What exactly is going on here?” I demanded, my voice trilling high.

  “Calm down, Beth.” Josh took another heavy sigh. “What’s going on here is,” he pressed his lips together and pushed his tongue against them as he decidedly did not make eye contact, “Max was just helping out.”

  “With what?”

  If Josh had looked as if he was going to tell the truth earlier, he’d obviously changed his mind.

  Another silence filled the room, but this time it was much tenser than the last.

  I wanted to say I trusted both of these men. And when it came to Josh, heck, I didn’t exactly have the opportunity not to. He wasn’t just my boss – he’d been charged with protecting me.

  And when it came to Max?

  I wanted to say that the connection between us wouldn’t lie, either. Whatever invisible string connected us and saw me dreaming of him every single night – that told me to trust him.

  But at the same time, I couldn’t exactly forget who I was. A goody two shoes. Precisely the kind of goody two shoes who would not brush off something like this.

  “There is more going on here than you realize,” Max began.

  I opened my mouth.

  “Then open my eyes and tell me,” I snapped.

  “Would you just give it a rest, Beth? I’ve told you as much as I can.”

  “Give it a rest? You’ve pretty much just asked me to break the law.” My voice pitched through the kitchen.

  “It’s not breaking the law. Exactly,” Josh managed.

  “Well, it certainly isn’t relying on the law. And you’ve spent virtually the whole morning telling me that there is a big difference between the police and us. And that there are things we should just leave to them. So why exactly have you changed your tune now?”

  “Because this involves Mercure,” Josh snapped. There was a hell of a lot of vehemence behind his words. Hell, I thought he would swallow his tongue and his eyes would fall from his head as he snapped his gaze up to me with all the power of a spring.

  I blinked quickly. “You mean Peter Mercure?”

  “Of course I mean Peter Mercure,” Josh’s voice became darker and darker. “And before you start pressing, I told you before, this is my personal business, and I’m not going to share.”

  He didn’t have to share any of the specifics. I could tell from his badly repressed anger that there was a significant history between these two.

  Max wasn’t saying anything. He was watching me carefully out of the corner of his eye, though. And I could tell he was assessing me. Perhaps he was wondering just how suspicious I was of him. And perhaps he’d been hopeful that suspicion had waned since the incident at the stadium.

  I didn’t know what to think, and worse, I knew that even if I came up with a good question, nobody would answer it.

  So I pushed up to stalk out of the room. It wasn’t exactly mature, but at least it was doing something. If I sat here and watched Josh and Max decidedly not speak to each other as the weight of their shared history threatened to crush me, I would go insane.

  “Please, Beth, I know it’s frustrating that we can’t tell you everything. But just hear us out. It’s extremely important that we break apart this ring and stop more D 20 from hitting the streets. This also has something to do with you,” he added softly.

  I receded, my lips crumpling in hard. “What are you talking about? What does it have to do with me?” My voice snapped out, each word sounding like a slap.

  “You’re a finder, Beth,” Max’s voice was little more than a whisper. “A locator, at that. And you remember what Carson Black threatened?”

  I blinked hard, the move twitching and sending little stabs of pain into my cheeks and forehead. “Carson Black is behind bars.”

  “And Carson Black has friends. Plus, even if he didn’t, the entire city knows about you. Other criminals would’ve put two and two together.”

  “And what exactly does four equal?” I managed through clenched teeth.

  “That you are the perfect person to hide this drug gang’s tracks,” Josh got there first. He’d now virtually collapsed against the table. His elbow was propped against it, his head in his hands. He looked up at me from between two stiff, white fingers.

  “What—” I began.

  “Stop, Beth – you know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re a locator. You are the perfect person to track down drug stashes. The perfect person to track down police teams, too. You’re the perfect person to track down everything. With you, this gang wouldn’t even need to let their dealers know specifically where the shipments were. All they’d need is you, and you’d be able to find them. No communication means clean tracks.”

  It was all stuff I’d heard before, but even though it wasn’t new, my gut still clenched with just the same dense, sick, ominous feeling that told me I was about to be pulled down to Hell.

  “So you can see, Bethany, that it is important that we crack this ring apart. We also can’t afford to rely on the police. They’ll be forced to bring their warlock division into this, and while we are aware that there are two plants, there could easily be more. Even if there’s only two, that’s more than enough to sabotage the investigation.”

  I hated all of this. But with no one else to rely on and nowhere to go, I sat back down with a thump.

  Josh didn’t instantly snap at me for harming Max’s furniture. He looked at me from out of the corner of his eye.

  Was it a careful look? The look of a man who didn’t want to be judged? The look of a man who wanted to see if someone still had faith in him?

  I sagged. It was my turn to bring up a hand and massage the bridge of my nose. “Say I believe you both an
d this really is the only way. And say,” I said through clenched teeth, “that I trust that whatever excuse Josh has for not telling the police is a good one, what exactly do you want me to do next?”

  “Find Frank,” Max said without pause. He looked at me with a careful, questioning gaze, obviously wanting to gauge if I really meant that I was going to help.

  I didn’t know. I still felt defeated. But one thing was clear. As I sliced my gaze to the side and looked at Josh, I appreciated this was serious for him. And though I didn’t owe him much, perhaps I owed him this.

  Chapter 4

  I stood, leaning against the open front doorway, my arms crossed, my eyebrows peaked high.

  I watched Josh as he muscled about 10 bags of groceries out of the back of his monster truck. Despite his bulky frame, even he was breathing hard as he heaved them up the pavement, negotiated through the small hole in the gate, and hauled them toward me. “You know, you can help,” he snapped.

  “You look like you’re feeding an army.”

  “You better not eat as much as an army. Because there’s no way I want to spend that much money on you.”

  I shuffled back from the doorway, allowing the mountain of groceries that was Josh McIntosh to make his way through and into the hallway.

  I closed the door with my foot, directly contravening Josh’s major rule to treat this premises with respect. Josh didn’t have the breath to snap at me.

  He lugged the groceries into the kitchen, dumped them onto the table, leaned over the back of a chair, breathed deeply, and slowly looked up at me. “I expect dinner, you know. After buying you all of this, I expect you to make me a very tasty dinner.”

  “Will this do?” I stuck my finger up at him. A little part of my mind told me that the Bethany Samson from a month ago would not have stuck her finger up at anyone. She was the good, Sunday school girl who never swore and who always did the right thing. Now I kept my finger stuck up as I shifted forward and started to peer through the bags.

  Josh snorted. “Who taught you manners? Was it a bear?”

  “Even if a bear had taught me manners, they would still be better than yours. You questioning me is pointless. It’s the same as the pot calling the kettle black. Now, where are the snacks you promised?”

  “Are you blind? Here are 10 bags of snacks,” he gestured to them wildly before shoving a hand into the closest bag and pulling out a packet of chocolate biscuits.

  I arched an eyebrow, expecting to see 10 packets of chocolate biscuits. Though he had bought an enormous amount of junk food, at least there was some real food amongst it.

  I settled down to make myself an omelet. Surprisingly, Josh put the food away. In whirlwind time, too. He kept checking his scratched, cracked watch.

  Once he was done, I expected him to fly out the door. Instead, he made several specific tapping motions with his fingers on the table.

  I didn’t even have to turn to know that he was practicing magic. I could taste it in the air, feel it along the tip of my tongue, and hear it with the faintest of crackles.

  As I turned over my shoulder, it was in time to see several manila folders appear.

  I frowned at him. “What are they?”

  “Everything we have about the Cruze Gang.”

  I tried not to snort as he said the Cruze Gang. Even though I knew it was c-r-u-z-e and not c-r-u-i-s-e, I still sniggered at the idea of a bunch of old retirees running the country’s largest drug operation in between a lobster dinner and a game of bingo.

  I leaned against the bench as onions fried gently in the pan behind me. “You want me to start tracking them down already?”

  “We’ve only got a day. I’m going to be out all night, so it makes sense for you to work.”

  “You told me before that you would only be out for an hour and you’d be back for dinner.”

  Josh tilted his head to the side and scrunched his eyebrows down low. “Are you going to miss me, Miss Bethany Samson? You could just say that you adore me. I can get you a picture and you can keep it close to your heart—”

  “Shut up already. Is it—” I pressed my lips together, not wanting to say it.

  “Is it what?”

  “Safe for me to be here for that long? After all, I am meant to be under a protection order.”

  “Funnily enough, I haven’t forgotten that you’re under a protection order, and don’t insult my intelligence or my professionalism. You will be more than safe enough in this house. No crim worth his brain cells would dare attack one of Max Knight’s places.”

  “That argument would only work if it were common knowledge that Max owned this place. Which it isn’t.”

  “Okay, okay. The place is protected – is that good enough for you?”

  “You mean by a standard security system?”

  “No, I mean by a magical security system. And before you pooh-pooh it, understand that it is the best money can buy. If anything goes down, the police will be alerted.”

  I kept my arms crossed. “But it’s not the police who are meant to keep me safe.”

  “Beth, for the love of God, nothing will happen to you in this house. But something will happen if you keep bothering me. I’ll stay here and whine at you for a solid eight hours. Does that sound fun?”

  I turned with a pout and continued to cook my onions. “Good luck on your mission with Max.”

  Josh spluttered as he turned away. “How did you know I was going with Max?”

  “Because of your expression. The one that looks as if you’ve swallowed 10 lemons.”

  I heard Josh grumble from behind me. “Whatever. Stay out of trouble and read those files. By tomorrow morning, you’re going to have to be so conversant with the Cruze Gang that you’ll be able to track down every drug shipment. I’ve also got a folder there about D 20. If you can’t locate any of the members of the gang, then hopefully you’ll be able to locate caches of the drug. It’ll be a backup plan.”

  “I’ve got it. But—”

  “Before you ask me what I’m about to do with Max, don’t. Because I have no intention of telling you.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Eloquent.” With that, Josh walked out without another word.

  I strained my hearing until I could hear the front door close.

  Then?

  I took my omelet, sat down at the table, and ate it quietly.

  The whole house was quiet, in fact. This wasn’t the first time Josh had left me alone for more than a half hour or so. Now, by the sounds of it, he wouldn’t even come back tonight.

  “Which is a great thing,” I muttered under my breath. “Peace and quiet,” I added. It was forced, though.

  I never used to be a paranoid person, but I never used to be the city’s only locator. Now I tried to push away images of people breaking in.

  Once or twice I snuck out into the corridor to check the security system. I had no idea how to ascertain if it was working, but there was a blinking light, and I wasn’t about to mess with it.

  “Get a grip,” I told myself over and over again. After an hour or two had gone by, I finally sunk myself into my task.

  I read through each manila folder, pausing and staring at any photos I could find.

  The information was dense. And most of it was supposition.

  There was some information to suggest that most of the Cruze Gang were ex-army. That would account for their good training, integrated teamwork, and sheer ballsiness.

  There was also a suspicion that a man called Constantine Santos was involved in the higher levels of the organization.

  Constantine, like the rest of them, was ex-army. He’d been a warlock sniper. Rather than being a generalized attack warlock like Josh, apparently Constantine had incredible precision skills. He could have been a surgeon if he hadn’t turned his career to security.

  He also had a checkered past. A couple of stints in juvenile detention, and quite a few marks against his record in the Army. In fact, his superiors had expressed co
ncerns on multiple occasions that he’d been aiding and abetting wayward witches. An incident where he’d struck a commanding officer and put the guy in a coma for a week had finally seen Constantine court-martialed and sent to prison for six months.

  When he’d gotten out of prison, he’d more than fallen on his feet. He’d rapidly risen through the ranks of the business community, selling his skills as a security planner. With precision and abilities like his, apparently he was unparalleled in his ability to plan people’s private security. From parties, to personal security, to businesses – Constantine was the man to call.

  My first question was whether he worked for Peter – as I assumed everybody involved in security in Madison City did. After a bit of googling, I realized Constantine worked for himself.

  “Interesting,” I muttered as I patted my lip and wrote that fact down on the pad of paper beside me.

  The other thing that was interesting about Constantine was the feel of him. There was a picture of him, and every few seconds, I glanced at it. I’d placed it directly in front of me in the middle of the table, and it was leaning against the pepper grinder.

  Constantine was probably in his late forties. He had short hair, a broad face, defined cheekbones, and a chin that jumped out at an angle. His eyes were deep set but large. They gave me the impression they were tracking sensors.

  Which is precisely what Constantine felt like – someone capable of tracking anything in any circumstance.

  I could see why he made such a great sniper.

  Apart from Constantine, there wasn’t that much solid evidence of who could be in the Cruze Gang.

  There were plenty of theories, though, including suggestions of just how many crimes they’d committed.

  What I didn’t understand is why the army had done nothing. The Army kept a careful eye on their exorcist-warlocks. With the training an Army warlock went through, it made them far more dangerous than your standard civilian witch. I thought I’d heard a while back there in the city down south the Army had stepped in when a gang of ex-warlocks had started doing heist jobs. It’d been discrete, and it had been quick. The Army had used their current assets to go after the ex-warlocks, and within a week, the gang had been cleaned up.