My throat thickens with tears at the empty look in Mila’s eyes.
“I can’t even think about Max without falling apart. I broke down in the break room at work the other day because someone brought in a box of those mini powdered doughnuts that he used to love, and it just…”
Tears start to well in her eyes.
“In time, those memories will bring you joy rather than sadness.”
“I know. I’m just not there yet. I feel like a ghost of myself, and the worst part is… I’m starting to feelnumb.”
I move closer and wrap my arm around Mila’s shoulders, resting my head against hers to try and bring her some comfort.
“You’re not alone in this, Mila.”
“I know.” She wipes her cheek with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “I just wish I didn’t feel so helpless. I wish there was something I could do that would make the grief easier.”
An idea clicks into place. “The mole…”
Mila pulls away from me and frowns. “What?”
“The mole. If we could figure out who it is, we could stop all of this.”
“I still don’t follow…”
I’m on my feet in an instant, pacing back and forth in front of the couch as the idea takes shape.
“The threats, the strange trail of payments… Max’s death started all of this, and I think the mole is responsible.”
“So…”
“So, that same mole is now feeding information to Declan. So, if we find out who they are?—”
“We find out who killed my brother,” Mila whispers.
“Exactly! They’re all pieces of the same puzzle.”
“You really think you can find the mole by yourself?”
“Why not? I’ve been in this game long enough. Besides, Ronan is so close to it, he can’t see straight. He’s likely missed a dozen clues that could lead us right to the answers.”
“I want in.” Mila sits up straighter with fierce determination on her face.
“Are you sure? Looking for your brother's killer wasn’t exactly the girls' night I had planned.”
“No, it’s better. Whoever helped kill Max doesn’t get to walk away.”
“Not on my watch, they don’t.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
RONAN
The callfrom Harry Kennedy comes before I’ve even sat down at my desk, the city skyline serving as my backdrop for the rest of the evening.
I thought the change of scenery would help lift the permanent bad mood that has been following me around like a storm cloud these past few weeks, but I was wrong. I already know whatever Harry has to say isn’t good because he never does courtesy calls.
Standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the Empire State Building, I answer Harry’s call and hold the phone up to my ear.
“Yeah?”
