Page 117 of Exposé

"If this falls apart, it’s because you couldn’t adapt." Keith leaned forward. "You don’t get to dictate strategy here, Barlowe. Your job is to carry it out." He placed his elbows on the desk. "I don’t make decisions lightly. I act on information you don’t have." His smirk wrinkled his perfectly trimmed beard. "You think you're the only one playing this game? Let me disabuse you of that notion right now."

I swallowed hard, but my glare remained fixed on him.

"You barged in here because you think I jeopardized your OP. But the truth is, I saved it." His eyes narrowed, his words striking with surgical precision.

"Saved it?"

"She ran to you." He cocked his head to the side, then crossed his ankle over his knee. "Didn't she? Ava now trusts you enough to call when she needs someone. Not Liam, not Aria, or anyone else in her short supply of friends. She called you."

Just wait until he hears the next part.

"How do you know that?"

He sighed. "I operate with a scope far larger than your field of vision. Think about that the next time you take a five-hour drive to throw a tantrum." His gaze pinned me in place, the fluorescent lights humming overhead.

"So you're watching me now?"

Keith tipped his head back against his chair. "Listen, I get it. You’re mad because I made a call that didn’t align with your methods. Get over it." He shrugged. "I've given you one job, and now it's two: extract the intel and stop wasting my time with theatrics." He glanced at a closed folder on his desk. "Now, unless there’s something else, I’d like to get back to running this agency."

"Did you have something to do with Kane Rogers' death?"

"And if I did?"

I shook my head, my teeth grinding as I rose to my feet. "Why?"

"Get back to work, Nate, and be grateful for the new opportunity." He reached for the phone he'd put down.

I turned on my heel and shut the door behind me with a thud—the weight of his words lingering long after I left.

Asshole.

My phone pinged, and I glanced at the screen.

Impound lot #47: Vehicle X4J-92P Released to Detective Liam Buchanan. Paid In Full. Cash. No Trace.

Dammit.

24

Ava

"Ready to make the call?"

No.

"Are we sure? I mean, it's not too late to back out now?" I wrapped my arms around my twisting, knotted belly. "Oh, God. I think I'm going to be sick."

I stared at the Mayor's office door, my car's engine humming along as though ready to drive away from this ridiculous plan.

"We've fleshed this out for the last seventy-two hours. It's do or die now."

Do or die?

Why does it need to be so ominous?

"But then again, maybe if you are having doubts, we shouldn't do it."

I need to get into that safe.

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