Page 130 of Sticks and Stones
Gene said nothing.
Not.
A.
Peep.
That’s when Greyson narrowed his eyes, and realized this was nothing new to the man.
“Wait a damn minute,” he stated. “You aren’t surprised I’m telling you how to do this. You’ve done this before!” he accused.
Gene shrugged.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he admitted. “I’m shocked you’re accusing me of something so heinous and outrageous. The only way to tell is to do a complete audit of thousands of files,” he stated. “No paper pusher is going to do that for funsies.”
And there it was.
Holy.
Shit.
“Jesus Christ, I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole and gotten myself tied up in this mess,” he stated. “I don’t want to know. Stop talking to me,” he added.
That made Gene smile—more so since the man didn’t know half the shit that was going on in his office. Well, now, he’d be twitchy and paranoid.
“Yep. We’re in this mess together. So now, you can help me pull it off, or you can worry what the hell I’m going to do, and have done.”
Greyson sighed.
“So now it’s outright blackmail?” he asked.
Gene didn’t miss a beat.
“Ouch. That you’d accuse me of that hurts my itty, bitty feelings. Imagine the audacity to think someone who works for the government would do something like bend the rules and know how to get away with it.”
He sighed.
And Greyson knew the truth.
They were about to do this the wrong way, but for the right reasons.
Well, there went his career in the FBI.
If they got caught.
Chapter Eight
Not Much Later
Corbin’s Home
Saturday
Early Afternoon
Pulling up to the man’s brownstone, they found Corbin’s driveway empty. Honestly, that wasn’t shocking since he already knew that Corbin’s car had been stolen from where he’d left it at the club.
It wasn’t like they’d get lucky and have it returned right to his house.
