I slipped it into the slot and clicked on the only file. Immediately, the room was filled with Kelley’s voice. When I heard the gunshot, I pulled the drive from the computer. I’dhave to dissect it later and see if I could pull anything from it that would lead us to who had recorded it.
I would have to do another dive into every man who was there that night. Starting with McCoy. Freyja had a bad feeling about the man, and if we’d learned one thing from Freyja, it was to listen to her fucking feelings.
I picked up my phone and called Sal.
“What did you learn?”
“Not much yet, but we have a problem,” I said, twirling the flash drive between my fingers.
“What kind of problem?”
“Someone made an audio recording of the night in Louisiana.”
“Which night?” he growled into the phone.
“The night we found out about Maddie.” He would know what I was talking about. We didn’t use phones on a network, but we also couldn’t be completely sure we weren’t overheard.
“How much of the conversation?” he asked.
“All the important parts,” I answered, letting him know without saying it that Kelley’s death had been recorded.
“Fuck.”
“I’ll dig into it, but it means I’ll have to split my focus with the files,” I told him. I chose not to mention Sinclair. I didn’t need Sal going off the rails just yet.
“Who sent it?”
“Yet to be determined.”
“Call my son; get his man to help,” Sal ordered.
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Why the fuck not?”
I rubbed a hand over my face as I groaned. So much for not telling him about Sinclair.
“Because Sinclair is asking about the files your father had. I don’t want his son-in-law hearing about this and telling him.”
Sal was quiet on the other end of the line, and I waited to see what he would say. When a minute went by without a word from him, I looked at the phone. “Sal?” I asked when I saw we were still connected.
“How the fuck does Sinclair know about the files?” he asked.
“I’m guessing he doesn’t, not for sure. But he grew up at the Trick Pony, Sal. He was there for seventeen years. He probably knew your father. I’m guessing Sinclair probably knows everything. All the players and their roles.”
“Find out,” he ordered, then the phone disconnected.
Chapter Eighteen
Caity
Cian walked down the hall, leaving our crying daughter in my arms. I wasn’t even sure why she was crying. I knew she liked Sinclair; he was always sweet to her, but she had no idea what he was really like.
“Sweetheart, let’s go sit on the couch.”
I stood up and waited for Maddie. With a heavy sigh, she followed me over to the couch. When we sat down, she laid her head on my shoulder, and I closed my eyes.
Maybe she had forgiven me. Maybe I had my daughter back. I slipped my arm around her shoulders and asked, “Why are you crying, Maddie?”
