“Shit,” Byron said. “Shit.” Scratching and rubbing noises muffled the audio.
“I think the phone’s back in his pocket,” Emma said. “I’m going to turn off the feed for now. If he texts or makes a phone call, we’ll be notified.”
Good thing she was on their side, Jesus. Or maybe they were on her side now? “Can you use Byron’s account to send the spyware to Warner’s phone?” he asked her. “We need to know what he’s doing.”
“He might get suspicious if your brother sent him a link right now, but we can try it.” She picked up her phone and got to work.
Todd looked up. “Michael’s on Warner. So far it looks like he’s heading back to his hotel.”
“Okay, good. Thanks,” Jason said. “Do you think we learned anything useful from the meeting?”
Todd nodded. “Unless your brother is just trying to cover his ass with Warner, or suspects we’re listening in, it doesn’t seem like he was involved in Viktor and Kerry’s deaths. Or the attack on you and Natalie,” he said to Emma.
That was…something. Small, but Jason would take it. “Warner didn’t exactly confess to any of it either, but it’s clear he knows he’s on the wrong side of the law for something.”
“We can’t do much with this conversation on its own,” Emma said, “but it helps fill in part of the larger puzzle.”
“We need a silver bullet. A confession, or indisputable proof of illegal activity.” Jason absently tugged at his hair, dropping his hand when he realized what he was doing.
“Any chance you could convince your brother to turn on Warner?” Todd asked.
Jason scoffed. “We don’t exactly have the best relationship. He might even act against his own interests just to spite me. More than anything, he hates to lose.”Competitivewasn’t a strong enough word for whatever his brother was. “Especially to me.”
“Maybe your reminder that he’s a father will work,” Emma said.
“Maybe.” Jason tried to be hopeful. His brother could be an asshole, but he was more complex than that. He loved his daughter, and treated his parents and grandmothers well. Some of his generosity was probably showing off, proving to everyone that he was a financial success, but deep down he also cared. Possibly even about Jason, though he hadn’t shown it for years.
Any camaraderie between them had vanished when Jason made their school’s varsity football team as a freshman when Byron was a senior. His brother hadn’t made it until he was a sophomore. Despite playing a more coveted position in football, going to a school with a better team, and making the pros, Byron wasn’t content. He needed to be richer, more popular, more famous.
When Jason landed at UVA, clearly not destined for the pros, his brother had eased up a bit. But then he’d unintentionally upstaged Byron with the Hot Stuff underwear campaign, and things between them had been strained ever since.
Hell, Byron had probably hired Jason—and Steele—for this job just to prove that he was in the more powerful position, rather than out of munificence or nepotism.
Emma gently touched Jason’s arm, pulling him out of his depressing thoughts. “Give him some time and then call him. He might change his mind once he’s had time to process, away from you and his boss. In the moment, the need to save face is high, but after he cools down…”
“Maybe.”
Emma’s phone buzzed and she looked at her screen, frowning. “They might be onto us.”
Jason’s heart thudded as she showed him her screen. Byron had received a message from Warner, asking him to return to the conference room at noon, but leave his phone outside. “So he either thinks Byron is compromised, or that he’s turned on him. That could be dangerous for my brother.”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist.
He clasped her to him, not too proud to take the comfort offered by her embrace. “I’m worried about what Warner’s up to.”
Emma just squeezed him tighter.
He got his answer thirty minutes later when Byron called while Todd was out getting lunch.
Jason set the phone on the table and turned on speaker mode. “What’s up?” he asked, settling onto the couch.
“Renfro wants to meet with you and your friend,” Byron said.
Lifting an eyebrow, Jason met Emma’s gaze. “Kinda sounds like a trap. Why would we want to do that?”
“He’s offering a deal for you to let this go.”
“Not interested.”
