The Fall of East: Book 3 in the Hear No Evil Trilogy, Malone, Nana [inspiring books for teens txt] 📗

Amelia rolled her eyes. "So you keep telling us."

Another few quick taps and she had her program running the legal way. "Jesus, hopefully this works, because otherwise, we've got nothing. And she’s bound to know we know who she is now. She’s going to go to ground."

East frowned. "I found her once. I can find her again."

Amelia nodded. "I know. You are, annoyingly, that good. But right now, I’m in the unenviable position of trying to make it look like viable evidence. I can't just storm into the boss’s office and be like, 'One of my new mates told me.’ Get it?"

"Fine, fair enough."

Finally, she had what she needed. "Come on, Ny, let’s get this to your father." She slid a glance to East. "Thank you for this. But we have to do this on our own."

Amelia didn't even bother calling my father first. She just started marching, and I had to follow behind. She had two pieces of paper with her.

She knew my father well. A lot of talking would make his eyes glaze over. But if you put the facts in front of him and stood back, he'd let them sink in. And then he would absorb the information the way he liked to. He was often in your corner.

It was our lucky day. Dad was in there with Denning. They both looked up at the interruption, Denning, furious, my father more curious. "What's the matter?" he asked.

Amelia licked her lips and then went around to my Dad, not to Denning.

"Sir, I'm so sorry to interrupt, but you need to see this. It’s a matter of urgency."

Denning held out his hand for the papers she held. She ignored him and put them in front of my father.

"Sir, I was running a search on known associates of the Wilson crew, as our murder victim was associated with them. That photo right there, that is Lord Jameson's son, Garreth Jameson. Right next to him is a woman called Krista Wilson. If you look closer, you'll realize that you know her.”

My father leaned closer to the photo and realized what Amelia meant. Then he sat back. "Jesus fucking Christ." His gaze snapped to Denning.

Denning stood up and grabbed the photo. "What the hell are you on about?"

I could see the moment he understood what he was dealing with. It was as if the tension rolled off of him, making his body slump like jelly. "No, this is a lie. It's doctored."

My father shook his head. "Are you trying to tell me now that my agents are lying and making up stories?"

"No, but that's not her. That can't be her."

I just stood, stoically, gaze trained at my father. I stepped forward. "Denning… Agent Sinclair," I corrected. "This is difficult, I'm sure, but we need to know how much access she's had to confidential information. What have you taken home?"

Denning whirled on me. "Nothing, you bitch."

And for the first time in my professional career, I heard my father yell in my defense. "That is enough!"

My eyes went wide, and I took a step back. Amelia did not move. Denning whirled back to my father. "This is her. She's making it all up. She doctored the photos. She's jealous of her, even though Hazel has been nothing but nice to her."

I stepped forward again. "I also believe that she's been stalking me. There have been several instances where she just happened to be around my apartment. The day after I got shot, she was there in the hospital too."

Denning tried to defend her. "She was checking on you. Per my request."

"She was there with you, and none of you were allowed in my room, but somehow Hazel made it in. And there have been a couple of occasions when she just whirled her way into my group of friends. I told you someone was watching me, Dad."

Denning turned to my father. "Don't let her do this. Do not let her do this thing."

My father stared at Denning. "How long have you been taking files home?"

All the color in Denning's face bleached out, leaving a pale husk of himself. He just kept shaking his head. "It's not possible."

Amelia started to move then, tucking her hair behind her ears as she spoke. "Sir, we need to know what she might know. So if there are cases he's taken home or discussed with her, we need to know."

I thought this would be sweeter. I thought that when I finally had vindication, I would be happier.

And I was happy. But oddly, I also felt bad for him because he thought he'd found someone who loved him. Someone who wanted to be with him, and then he had the rug pulled out from under him. I was able to feel some compassion. On the other hand, there was a part of me that wanted to say, 'Yeah, loser. Yeah, you wanking twat. You did this to yourself.'

My father was furious. He turned to Amelia and me. "Good work, the both of you. Agent Sinclair and I have a lot to discuss."

I scuttled out, and Amelia followed me at a calm, leisurely pace. But with the door firmly closed behind us, she grabbed my arm. "Holy shit."

"I know. That was so fucking worth it."

"Yes, yes it was. Tonight, we drink."

There was still so much that hung in the balance. We needed more proof to bury Jameson. But we would get it with the whole team pitching in. And once we did, he’d be going away for a long time.

And now all you have to do is tell Theroux.

* * *

East

I was slipping. That was the only explanation for any of this. Because when I left for my 2:00 p.m. meeting in the South Bank, I found the old man waiting for me downstairs in the hotel.

As if the son of a bitch knew my schedule. How could he?

He stood when he saw me, and he had a bag in his hand.

I asked, "What