“Not happening.”
“Well, I’m not sitting it out.” Did he really think she’d just sit in the hotel while he faced down Renfro? “I started this whole thing. It’s my…story, and if you’re going to have a problem with me doingmy job, then you can simply stay the hell out of it.”
Jason sighed and rubbed his face, muttering something under his breath before meeting her gaze. “You’re right. I’m acting like a frigging cave man. I’m sorry.” He stood and walked around the coffee table. “You’re an adult, and I need to trust that you can make your own choices.”
“Exactly,” she said, taken aback by his sudden capitulation.
“It’s just that I’m—” He froze, looked away, swallowed hard.
Her heart bounced around in her chest, anticipation stealing her breath.
“I hate the idea of you putting yourself in danger. I…” He cleared his throat, his hands curling into fists. “I care about you, Em, but I realize it’s not my call to make.”
She deflated a little. Those weren’t exactly the words she’d been expecting or hoping for—however unrealistic—but hedidcare about her. His heavy-handed approach was coming from that place, not just a desire to control her. She got that.
“I care about you too,” she said. “And I’m just as averse to putting you in danger, but I also trust you to know your skills and limits. I’m asking for the same consideration.”
He nodded, looking chagrined. “I can’t say I like it, but that’s fair.”
“Okay. We have six hours until we meet Renfro, and a lot of work to do.”
Within the hour, Emma had confirmation that Byron understood how much trouble he faced. She and Jason had just watched him use his phone to buy a first-class ticket for a flight from Zurich to Sarajevo, leaving later that evening, and tickets for his wife and daughter from LAX the next day.
Emma gave Jason’s hand a squeeze. “Bosnia and Herzegovina is a non-extradition country.”
“He’s fleeing,” Jason said, his voice flat.
“Looks like it.” She stroked her thumb across his knuckles. “I’m sorry.”
Swearing under his breath, he looked down at her, his face somber. “You said something about offshore accounts. Does he have any that you know of?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Warner?”
“Definitely.”
His jaw tensed. “If I had the resources to freeze them, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Hecouldn’t, but Dallas and Nolan had become quite adept at pulling a Robin Hood with the tax havens of despicable people over the years, redirecting the money through a series of shell companies to the victims—in indirect ways, like scholarships and “sweepstakes”—and to organizations that supported women and marginalized groups directly. They used the bastards’ own methods against them. Emma had no idea how Nolan tracked down the hidden funds, but he was very, very good at it. “You would do that?”
“He doesn’t get a pass just because he’s my brother.”
Apparently Jason valued integrity even more than loyalty. Her heart ached. If she could take away his pain, she would.
She spent the next twenty minutes messaging with Dallas, who was also following Byron’s communications and knew where he was headed. Did the poor guy ever sleep? He and Nolan had already spent the last week digging into the finances of everyone in Renfro’s orbit, and thought they had a lead on Byron’s holdings. With luck, they’d be able to move his money and thwart his plans to stay untouchable in Bosnia and Herzegovina.
Dallas told her they needed more time with Renfro, though. They’d located a few accounts, but not the jackpot.
Dahlia: The rabbits are really good at hiding lettuce. If we had some idea where to look, it would help a lot.
Rose: I’ll see what I can do.
Emma didn’t know what that was yet, but she’d figure out something.
Turning to Jason now, she said, “I’ve asked for some other people to follow up with leads on Kerry Martin to see if they can get enough evidence to spark an investigation into her death.”
“Your group is very thorough,” Jason said, his expression part admiration, part alarm.
