Pulling out my phone, I save Hopper’s number, and Maverick’s, under Favorites.
12
ODD AND DB
Jake looks nervous.
Odd doesn’t say that aloud. He doesn’t have to. DB’s already watching Jake cross the threshold of the Wimberley briefing room like a man walking into court, spine straight, shoulders tight, incongruous with his goth monk styling.
Jake sets his laptop on the table. Doesn’t sit.
The intensity in the room ratchets up.
“First thing,” he says, gripping the edge of the table, as if bracing for impact. “There’s going to be an article in theStatesmantomorrow linking the recent art-themed murders to a killer they’re calling John the Baptist.”
The groan is immediate and universal. Years and years of discipline, restraint, and keeping the mess off the front page threatened.
Anders rubs his forehead. “So Hopper gets an artistic hair up his ass, and now he’s a headline? Which basically meanswe’rea headline?”
“The article reads like a leak,” Jake says.
Parker leans forward. “That’s why we have Joni.”
“She’s already working it,” Jake says, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. He looks tired. “But we’ve seen this pattern before.We get close to something that matters, and suddenly, there’s a very public shot across the bow.”
The room stills.
“Whitaker.”
DB says it flat, like a diagnosis.
Jake nods. “Whitaker.”
Whitaker, who’s made no secret that he likes the new police chief.
Odd feels DB’s hand curl around his.
They should’ve let Silas and Rami take Whitaker out when they had the chance. The thought isn’t productive, but it’s persistent.
Jake turns the laptop so everyone can see. “Which brings us to the real leverage Whitaker has over this organization.”
Everyone leans in. This is the information they’ve chasedfor years. Whitaker was as bad as any of the powerful men they’d killed over the years, and for years, they’ve been told that killing him would burn everything to the ground.
Jake’s gaze lands on Hedy.
She straightens. “Whaddya got?”
“Did you know that your father is married to Whitaker’s sister?”
Hedy’s mouth opens. Closes. “No.”
DB watches his friend. She’s telling the truth. And doesn’t that add a whole new wrinkle to this fucking mess?
Hedy’s father provided the land. Seth Wakefield provided the capital. Whitaker provided the political cover. Three men. One supposedly equitable partnership.
Hm.
“Dad’s wife’s name is Gina,” Hedy says slowly. “But I don’t remember her maiden name being Whitaker.”
