Page 21 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
But, as stated, within reason.
“You really can’t figure this out, can you?” Anderson studied Dr. Cohen. “I can’t believe it.”
Will lifted his glasses to rest on his forehead. “Even to me, the dots don’t connect. I’m missing a single line that will make what I’m seeing more solid, and it’s pissing me off that I can’t chase it down.”
“Sinclair,” Agent Anderson said. “He’s what’s throwing you.”
“Mike,” Liam snarled softly under his breath. “Toby knows him, but the how and why is still in the air.”
Rowan brought up Michael Sinclair’s military headshot. The image took over most of the screen, and a split second of silence followed its arrival.
“There’s no way Sinclair is down with this Zanmi bullshit,” Anderson surmised, totally in agreement with the Cohens. “Zanmi is a disorganized hodgepodge of nutcases who has a few wealthy backers, and those backers were just giving the group money to shut them up.”
“Always watch what you do in your college years, kids,” Bernie said sarcastically. “It’ll come back to bite you in the ass, especially if you engage in extremely taboo sexual experimentation.”
“Zanmihadwealthy backers,” Rowan said, so fucking tired of these people. His brain was raw from the information he’d consumed regarding Toby’s friends. “Etienne is dead. Henderson is now dead, and all we have left is Gilbert.”
“Gilbert has very little to do with the group,” Klausen said. “But it doesn’t matter. His hefty donations were for Toby’s defense, and with Miller headed to Florence ADX, his funds are useless.”
“Yes, while we can trace Gilbert’s money to keep Toby’s high-dollar lawyer on retainer, it also sustained Zanmi’s way of life,” Liam argued, and Rowan gladly tossed Sinclair’s photo off the screen and brought up the intricate financial trail he had compiled. “Even in the trusts, each of Toby’s college friends left large sums of money to the organization. It funded those who were heavily involved and left their lives behind.”
Another line of money was coming in, matching the funds supplied by the doctors equally. With Etienne and Henderson’s deaths, that income stream had grown until it covered most of what the group was missing from their steady money supply.
Liam had said that the flow of cash always existed, but when they explored its origins, they never found the source, and not being able to find it was yet another thing that weighed on his mind. He was failing at every turn, completely blocked and unable to navigate the chaos.
Jamison raised her hand. “Would Michael have that kind of money? I know he was just a soldier, but don’t they get hazard pay or something?”
Rowan had thought the same. He knew exactly how much both foreign and domestic governments would pay someone else to do their dirty work. Sinclair seemed like a man who would readily dive into such ventures without hesitation.
“Not enough to cover what the group needs,” Anderson replied. “Zanmi was bleeding those doctors dry, and it still wasn’t enough.” He walked over to the screen and tapped at the mysterious financial line. “And this right here? This isn’t Sinclair.”
“Tell me what you know about Bryan Carroll.” Liam joined Anderson, and Rowan switched to the latest photo they had of Carroll. The image showed a man in his seventies lounging on a lanai, floral printshirt open and potbelly out as he enjoyed a cigar while talking on the phone.
“I’m going to play devil’s advocate here and ask, what if Sinclair was working for someone like Carroll?” Bernie aimed her pen at the screen. “Not Carroll himself, but what if Sinclair is actually the one funding the group now? It would explain the dedication. Studies show that a high percentage of humans understand what it means to stay in line to maintain a certain way of life. Governments worldwide use the tactic to manage what would otherwise be unruly societies. Control the money, and you control the chaos. Sinclair would have picked up on this while in the service, so what if he gave up his bombing crusade to work for companies or governments that exploited their people with both brute strength and monetary abuse? What if he learned and, while he did, was paid well in the process?”
Rowan caught Liam’s eye. He had only mentioned his occasional side job offers to Liam, not wanting the information widely known.
“Am I right, Rowan?” Bernie pressed. “They pay well, don’t they?”
Liam’s mother was downright scary, and Rowan bet Liam never got away with anything as a teenager. “Yes, ma’am. Very well.”
Annabeth laid her hand on his thigh, relaxing him. She hadn’t left his side these past two weeks. Rowan understood her desperate need to help was her way of coping, and he was fine with that, craving her nearness.
But they’d had no alone time. Cameras were everywhere, causing additional strain. The slightest brush of Annabeth’s hand or a lingering look had him on edge. Five minutes—two, if he were honest—was all that would be needed for some relief.
“So, you agree it’s plausible?” Bernie asked her son and husband. “Or is Sinclair just playing pretend?”
“Sinclair isn’t the fake-it-till-you-make-it type,” Liam replied. “Not with how meticulous he is.”
“I agree.” Anderson shook his head in dismay. “But it still doesn’t explain why he’s involved with Miller or their connection.”
“It’s personal,” Samuel tore his eyes from the feed showing his family to address Agent Anderson. “This is personal to him. I don’t know the why, but look at how he reacted when his sister and nephew were taken. Sinclair sent those women to my house—to Haven House—and for what? To killhis own group?”
“If anything, Sinclair was acting out during a psychotic break, which is common for his sort.” Will tapped on the table, and Rowan switched the display to pictures of the women who died that night. Photos plucked from social media or provided by parents who didn’t understand why their daughters would do such a thing, the images showed everyday women caught up in the fevered throes of a false community. “He needed those women for this Fairweather breeding plan,” Will said. “Without them, it fails.”
Samuel’s brows snapped together. “I thought they needed Jamison and Trevor’s daughters?”
Liam shared a glance with his father, and Rowan blew out a breath. It was something he and the three Cohens had already discussed, but none of them had worked up the nerve to say it in front of Samuel.
