Page 3 of Dirty Daria
“Why not use an actual agent? Why put Quinn in danger like that? And what the hell was Daria doing as your driver of all people?”
“Quinn had no idea where she was going when I asked her. Only that it was a formal event and what she was supposed to do,” he says.
“Which was what?”
“Technically? To create a distraction.”
“Why did she have a gun?” I refuse to stop asking questions until he starts giving me straight answers.
“It had blanks in it, not a big deal.”
He’s holding something back. “What if she’d been hurt or killed? What if one of your security buddies had shot her? Did you even think it through beforehand?” I ask.
“Of course I did. I already knew security’s priority was getting the family to safety. Plus, you clearly had Quinn under control from the onset.”
“But you didn’t know I was going to see her.”
“Sure I did.”
I don’t believe him. But I also don’t say anything else. I need to collect my thoughts first before I decide whether my partner, who is supposed to have my back in all situations, is purposefully deceiving me. And if so, why.
What would Mack gain from not including me in his plan? Regardless of my relationship with David, Mack and I are on the same side of the law. Partners. Had he come to me with concrete evidence, I would have gone along with any plan he had.
Which means any evidence he had wasn’t solid enough to approach me with.
“What grounds did you have to perpetuate this plan tonight?”
“What do you meanwhat grounds? I knew he was guilty.” Mack narrows his eyes, his gaze hard.
“How?”
“It doesn’t matter how. We have a confession.”
“A confession not legally obtained,” I point out.
“How so?”
“You weren’t acting in an FBI capacity when you got it.”
“Yes, I was,” Mack argues.
“You just said you were there working security,” I counter.
“I was. But once I had him in the car and he started to confess, I told him I was FBI.”
“Why would he just start to confess to you, Mack? Come on, do you really expect me to believe this?”
“Yes, Reed, I do. I’m your partner. I wouldn’t lie to you. I expect you to believe me.”
He doesn’t look at me while he talks. I turn to gaze out the window. Not being able to stomach looking at Mack any longer either. At this rate, I’ll be sick of my entire friend list before Christmas is even over. Something isn’t adding up, I’m just not sure what.
We travel in silence for a good ten minutes before Mack finally breaks down. “Fine. You want to know? I’ll tell you. A friend of a friend got some information proving David is guilty.”
“How’d they get it?”
“Hacked into his email.”
“Jesus Christ, Mack. You can’t use that.”
