“This is where shit gets tricky for Tom and me. It's gonna be a fine line. We have to protect Brian, but also look like we're not protecting Brian. And right now I just need you to play along. Sylvie, please. Not a word to your friends at Watchdog. Because if you tell them and they get involved, God only knows what's going to happen to Brian. Or to his sister Brianna, or any of them.”
Sylvie felt nauseous. The stink of stale beer in the air became worse. “Okay, Frank. Fine. The last thing I want is to see civilians get hurt.”
“Then back off. I’ve already given you way too much.”
Sylvie nodded. “Alright, I'll back off.”
“Even on meeting the handler?”
“Yeah.”For now.
Frank immediately looked relieved. “Thanks, Rookie. I owe you big time.”
“You bet you do.”
They finished their beers and their breadsticks and went their separate ways. Frank went back to the precinct, Sylvie supposed.
She headed to Lyons and straight to her father's office. They had a lot to talk about.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
When Sylvie got to the Lyons substation, she found that George was at the music festival. She left her car in the lot—finding parking was otherwise impossible—and walked over to the grounds beside the St. Vrain. Before she even got there, she passed impromptu jam sessions and kids selling lemonade to thirsty festivalgoers. This was the Lyons she loved the most—a safe, family-friendly place where she wanted to raise her own kids.
Move in with me. Her entire body had reacted when Alex had suggested that, making her feel like she’d just walked into the most beautiful, most intense sunbeam after stumbling in the darkness. Yes, body and soul, she wanted to move in with Alex, wanted to create a family with him and raise them right here, and she would once this was over.
Once they could stop keeping secrets all in the name of protection.
Sylvie flashed her badge at the festival gate and the volunteers smiled and let her in. It was a hot day, always was in late summer, but with the promise of a cloudier afternoon and evening to cool things down.
She wove around lines of people waiting at food vendors, and headed for the security and medical facilities—long wooden three-sided buildings around the corner from the food stalls and sheltered under giant cottonwoods. Music played from the main stage, making Sylvie wish she was only here to enjoy it.
Sylvie found George standing next to a desk, talking on the phone. He saw her and held up a finger.
“Yeah, Kyle, I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything. Should be real soon.” He disconnected.
“I guess I’m real soon, huh?” Sylvie smiled at her dad.
“That depends. Whatcha got for me?”
“Straight to the point, no one’s getting in to see Glass. I tried earlier.”
“They waiting for the Feds?”
“Well, that’s one explanation.”
George shifted his weight. “And the real explanation?”
“Should we be having this conversation here? I was hoping to catch you in the office.”
George gestured with his head for her to follow him. He led the way out a back door to a small, private parking lot bordering the back of the stage. His SUV was there.
Once they got in, he said, “Continue, please.”
“Here’s the other tricky part. I can’t tell you everything, but I can tell you there’s an undercover investigation going on.”
“George’s eyebrows lifted. “That so?”
“Mmm-hmm. I know who, but I can’t say. Anyway, Glass is being protected by orders coming from higher up, and the investigation is meant to figure out who it is. The officers in question are working with the cartel, which explains what you’ve been seeing.”
