“The only difference between the good guys and the bad guys ispublic relations,” Dakota shakes his head. “Did you know the foundations of so-called public relations is in propaganda? Both sides used propaganda in World War I, and when the war ended, these propaganda experts brought their trade home and applied it to business and industry.”
Cat snorts. “Public relations isn’t the same as propaganda.”
“Isn’t it?” Dakota shrugs. “Propaganda is defined as information designed to promote a particular cause or point of view. Public relations is designed to promote a particular cause, point of view, product, or person. Now, you tell me, where’s the difference in that? Again - it’s public relations.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stick up. I can see why he’s so persuasive with his followers.
“So, you’re saying my family is the bad guy in this situation, but we’ve got better PR? That’s some bullshit,” Cat chuckles.
“Your twin, Cam, doesn’t follow the rules, gets into trouble at the drop of a hat, and nearly gets people killed. Your sister Celia stabbed a woman in a Mississippi barn, nearly killing her, and got off scot-free. Your other sister Carolina drugged her ex-boyfriend, then kicked him when he was down,” Dakota ticks off the Saber family on his fingers. “Your brother Luke has had numerous scrapes with the law, was even the prime suspect in a murder, and yet, your sister-in-law, the former cop, covers up his crimes.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Cat stands.
Dakota leers at her. “Like I said, public relations. Your family gets away with actual murder, and no one does a damn thing about it. I do the same thing in the name of freedom, and I’m vilified. The very government I’m trying to bring down locks me up. Does that make me the bad guy or a patriot to my people?”
Cat’s spine stiffens, and her nostrils flare. She’s a few seconds away from knocking this guy into next week.
I hold up my hand. “Maybe give us a minute?”
She stomps out of the room.
When the door closes, I settle into the chair she left behind. “What you say makes much sense.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “Of course it does. You work with that one. She’s probably reckless and endangers your life on multiple occasions. It’s in her blood. And that blood is bad.”
My blood is ringing in my ears, but I school my face to remain passive.
Dakota clasps his hands together. “I need your help, brother. If we’re to win this war against the white man, I need a tracker.”
I nod. “Who are you tracking?”
“That cocksucker Jeffrey Rose. He owes me - something, and I need to collect.”
I nod again. “And where do I start?”
Dakota looks around the room but doesn’t notice the surveillance cameras. He lowers his voice to a whisper. "You start with his girlfriend.”
“Tova Norton is dead,” I watch for his reaction. There is none. Of course, he knows Jeffrey Rose’s “wife” was murdered.
“No shit,” Dakota rolls his eyes. “I’m not talking about that girlfriend, but the other one. The one who helped us.”
I frown. “Sheila Rector?”
He shakes his head. “Are you dumb? No, the other woman.”
“You’re going to have to spell it out for me, Helfinger,” I narrow my eyes at him. “Those are the only women I know about.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t feel like tipping my hand at the moment.
“You do know her,” Dakota sniffs. “The computer hacker.”
My stomach drops out of my body. No way he’s talking about Tatiana. This can’t be the case. She’s been helping us, hasn’t she?
And every time she helps, a kill squad shows up.
“Name,” I snap at Dakota. “I need her name.”
He shrugs. “Don’t know it. But she’s good. She got us out of prison, and I know she’ll get me out of this mess.”
