Page 147 of The Devil We Know

“What brought that on?”

“Albert Power had an incident with one of his female employees. He reached out to Declan, who put him in contact with me.”

“You take him out?”

“No,” I answer honestly. “We relocated her and made it impossible for him to find her.”

“And what if he manages to find her? You know how clever those bastards can be.”

“Then we deal with him the old-fashioned way,” I reply patiently.“Why not just do that in the first place rather than potentially leave her at risk?”

“Because in this industry, we can’t just off every person who steps out of line. People are going to notice.”

Agatha stares at me for a moment, then sits forward in her chair. “We want to help.”

“We?”

“Me and Lils,” she responds. “Since we’re using The Dead as a front for cleansing the world of human trafficking scum, it would be beneficial to join forces.”

“I’m not sure exactly how that would work, but you know we’ll always take the support, no questions asked.”

She smiles happily, looking exceedingly pleased with herself, but then her eyes narrow, and she frowns as she mutters, “It still doesn’t make sense.”

Tony and I look at each other, and then I look over at Declan, who’s staring at Agatha with the same look of confusion as I’m feeling. Then he asks, “What doesn’t make sense?”

“I think I agree with you, Dec,” she says quietly, indecision on her face. “I don’t want to, and I tried to pretend I don’t, but the more I think about it and talk about it, the more inclined I am to agree with you.”

My eyebrows raise into my hairline. “What? Why?”

“I have a letter for you guys,” she confesses. “I assume from Darius.”

“Really?” Declan asks eagerly.

I give him a dirty look and then turn back to Agatha. “And what does that have to do with Declan’s delusions?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything until after you read the letter because it all seems preposterous, but something just doesn’t add up.”

“Which something?”

“For example, there’s no letter for Antoinette.”

“I don’t get it,” I reply dryly.

“If Darius drafted a letter for you guys just in case he died, there sure as shit would’ve been a letter for Antoinette, too.”

Tony sits up, sliding to the edge of his chair, his expression now as eager as Declan’s. “I’m listening.”

“And managing to deliver shit to me that I can’t trace?”

She’s looking at me accusingly, and I hold up both hands defensively. “Don’t look at me. I swear on everything I’ve ever loved that I have nothing to do with anything that may or may not be going on.”

She narrows her eyes, her lips pursed as she stares me down. Then, she nods and stands abruptly. “I’ll go get it, and we can goddamn well find out.”

She heads toward the door, but when she’s about halfway across the room, I shout, “Hey, Agatha.”

She stops and turns back to me with a questioning expression.

“Did he happen to mention what he wanted to call this place?”

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