Page 17 of Wicked Love
“I know, I know. It just makes me feel better to talk to you about it. And I should be able to fill you in on the rest soon. You take care of yourself.”
“Maddie—” Summer started, and my throat constricted. I didn’t know what else to say to her.
“I’ve got to go. Talk soon!”
I hung up, feeling twice as shitty as before. Had I done enough to protect her? How could I possibly know that?
All I could do was hope to hell that my warning hadn’t even been necessary.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Dexter
The hotel on the outskirts of town didn’t look like much, the dingy, white-washed bricks in need of a fresh paint job and a lone employee in the small lobby who gave me a bored look. She said nothing as I strode down the hall as if I belonged here, following the directions Beckett had given me.
Our theoretical ally had said this was a neutral location, and Logan hadn’t dug up any sign of a personal connection to the place. We’d arrived separately and discreetly to ensure it wouldn’t be obvious we were meeting. All the subterfuge had me feeling like I’d stepped into a spy flick, which was both unnerving and a little exhilarating, if I was being honest. None of our work as the Vigil had ever gotten quite this complex.
My role was to fill Beckett in on the pieces of the puzzle we’d put together so far. It was easier not to be noticed going alone, and we’d agreed that I had the clearest grasp of all the moving parts in the conspiracy we’d gradually been uncovering. Besides, if Logan had come, he’d probably have been throwing Beckett against another wall within a few minutes. I wasn’t sure Slade was feeling that much friendlier toward the guy.
I couldn’t say I was totally on Beckett’s side, but I could keep a clear head. I’d ask my questions, make my observations, and come to a conclusion about how he’d factor into our lives based on evidence rather than emotion. It was evidence that mattered more than anything right now, after all.
A plain sign saying MEETING ROOM 1 labeled the door I was looking for at the end of the hall. I pushed inside without hesitation and found Beckett already sitting at the eight-seater table inside.
He looked out of place amid the worn furnishings and the air that smelled like stale coffee someone must have spilled on the floor weeks ago. I’d always noticed he took care with his appearance, but maybe because today he was here in a business capacity, he’d donned a full suit, perfectly fitted, and combed his hair neatly back. He stood smoothly with an air of total professionalism.
“Dexter,” he said in greeting, and started to extend his arm. But before I could indicate that I wasn’t much for handshakes, he caught himself and switched to simply lifting his hand in an informal wave.
So, he’d noticed that I wasn’t much for physical contact, just from our brief previous interactions. He was a sharp guy—I’d give him that.
I dipped my head in return and took a seat across from him. “I’ve brought everything useful from our files. But first I have some questions.”
Beckett offered an easy smile as he sank back into his chair. “Straight to the point. I appreciate that. Just a second—a quick precaution.” He tapped on the screen of his phone, which was sitting on the table, and it started playing a white noise track. To muffle our voices if anyone tried to record us, I realized. Probably unnecessary, but a simple protective measure.
Or maybe he was wary thatImight be recording him for the Vigil’s purposes.
If he distrusted me, he didn’t show it. Beckett leaned back in his chair and spoke just loud enough for me to hear him over the hiss of static. “Ask away.”
I rested my hands against the edge of the table, gathering my thoughts. I knew what I wanted to ask, but really all those questions were beating around the bush, trying to get at the one thing I couldn’t ask directly.
The Vigil had already ended up veering down such a dark path—and I’d been the one who’d set us on that course. I couldn’t let Beckett and his criminal dealings drag us even farther down. If I got the chance to save us from ending up in a worse place, I had to take it.
My friends deserved better.
The impression of calm authority that Beckett maintained did relax me a little. Whatever he was involved in, he clearly wasn’t erratic or unhinged about it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous.
“You told us a little about your family’s activities,” I said. “I’d like to know exactly what sorts of business you’re involved in. As many as you’re willing to say.”
“Sure.” Beckett folded his arms loosely over his chest. “I think I mentioned that one of our main focuses is real estate flipping and property management. That’s all legitimate. We also have a stake in several casinos and our fingers in the stock market.”
I lifted my eyebrows slightly. “And your not-so-legitimate businesses?”
“Those we maintain at least a degree of separation from, if not more. Any gangs or other organizations operating in our territory kick a portion of their earnings back to us. We don’t exert much control over what they do, but if we find out they’re involved in any areas we disagree with, like human trafficking and specific drugs, we intervene.”
“And you don’t participate in any illegal activities directly?” I said, not bothering to hide my skepticism.
Beckett chuckled. “I shouldn’t make it sound like that. We always have front men, but we take a direct interest in some revenue streams from gambling, stolen and counterfeit goods, and extortion. Higher level targets, of course. People who can afford to lose.”
I supposed those people had more to give up in profits anyway. None of this sounded particularly horrifying, if I could believe him. Itwaspretty hard to imagine the man across from me sending people off on murder sprees or anything like that.
