“And why isn’t the FBI talking to them?” I question, shifting my gaze to Jack, who honestly looks about ready to explode. I imagine having Brenda come in and take over is not something he’s overly thrilled about.
“Because the government has decided I’m only allowed to investigate the murders. Since that particular employee has an alibi, they are of no further interest to me,” he replies.
If I weren’t so frustrated, I’d laugh. Seems Brenda has her claws in his higher-ups, too. At least it’s not just me she’s controlling. “So explain to me why the government is interested in the murder of two do-gooders? Isn’t that local PD’s jurisdiction?”
“It’s not the Karvers were interested in. However, Cal Markson has loose ties back to an environmental terrorist group known for targeting high-profile companies and staging elaborate attacks on and off US soil.”
I look down at the mugshot in front of me. “This guy has a list as long as my arm. Why hasn’t he been officially charged with anything?”
“We think he has someone covering for him; we just can’t figure out who. Thing is, Markson is a small fish. I want the shark at the top of his food chain,” Brenda says. “Which is why you and your team are headed to Savannah, Georgia.”
“If they’re dangerous, though, why are you sending Zane?” Fear laces Tessa’s voice, and Brenda grins, prepared to eat her alive at the first opportunity.
“Zane killed someone with his bare hands a week ago, and you still wonder why I keep him around? He and his team are good at what they do. And when things go sideways, they’re the most brutal group of mercenaries I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”
“Not at all how I would put it,” I snap, fresh anger washing over me. Mercenaries? We’re not mercenaries.
The back door opens, and I turn as Weston, Ryker, Sawyer, and Garrison all stroll in. Each of them is wearing an angry expression. They come to stand behind me and cross their arms.
Even Jack Weathers appears to be slightly intimidated. He stands, likely not wanting to be the only man sitting.
“Mercenaries?” Sawyer questions. “That’s not a great way to talk about us. Tank, maybe, but me? Come on, I’m cute as a button.”
“And deadly as a viper.” Brenda pushes to her feet and takes her briefcase. “Call yourselves whatever you want, but what was the body count on that last mission? Seventeen? Eighteen? I can’t remember.” She taps a sharp nail to her chin. “Either way, violence seems to come as naturally to you as breathing,” she adds with a grin in my direction.
I’m afraid to look at Tessa.
What if she’s buying this act?
For a woman raised in such a violent home, the last thing she would want is to be tethered to someone capable of taking a life. How could I have been so foolish as to think otherwise?
“To be fair, most of those were mine,” Weston adds coldly. It’s not that he’s cold about the deaths. Each and every one, even as necessary as they were, eats him alive. But he’s trying to take the attention off of me.
Which means Tessa’s expression is likely twisted in horror.
“Hmm. Well. Talk to your leader. He has your next orders.” Brenda strolls out of the coffee shop without a second look back.
“Can’t say I’m a fan of hers,” Jack says. He turns to Tessa. “I’ll be in contact with any other questions. Can I have a word?” he asks me.
“Sure.” I glance back at Weston, who offers me a slight nod, letting me know he’s watching. Then, I follow Agent Jack Weathers out onto the sidewalk in front of Anastasia’s place.
“I don’t believe Tessa killed anyone,” he says.
“She didn’t.”
Jack nods. “You should know that Miss Button-up? She is coming for your girl—hard. I’m not sure why, or what the trouble is there, but if she could pin this entire thing on her, she would.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Regardless of what you think of me, Mr. Knox, I’m not a fan of bullies. Government-issued or otherwise. Have a nice night.” He heads down the dark sidewalk, and I cross my arms, trying to prepare myself for whatever waves Brenda just caused in the already brewing storm between Tessa and me.
Chapter 22
Tessa
Zane has been silent since we got back to the boat, and it’s so hard for me to focus on anything but the look on his face when Brenda practically called him a murderer. I’m sorry, a brutal mercenary.
Brutal? Is she out of her mind? No, not out of her mind. I know what she was trying to do. I’m not stupid.
