I immediately regretted my words when Jonas stilled in the process of putting a plate away.
“Can you trust your guys?” Cole asked as he dropped down in the chair next to me.
I hated needing to do it but I shook my head. The only thingthat had kept me from pulling the trigger was some instinct…some pull Jonas had on me. I knew that most of the members of my team wouldn’t have felt the same thing. And even if they had, they certainly wouldn’t have spent weeks trying to figure it out. They would have accepted the solid evidence that had been presented to them and done their job and moved on.
“The only people I currently trust are in this room,” I admitted. “We’re on our own,” I added.
I heard the chair on the other side of the table scrape across the floor and I lifted my eyes long enough to watch Jonas sit down, a dish towel twisted between his fingers.
“The stuff in that file...is it real?” Jonas asked. “I mean, I know the arrest isn’t real but do the police really believe I did those other things? That one statement had my name in it.”
“I don’t think so,” I said as I held Jonas’s eyes. “The boys might be real victims but whoever went through the trouble of setting you up would have changed their names and added yours in place of the real suspect. But they would have risked exposing themselves if they tried altering the actual records.”
I forced myself to voice a truth I didn’t want to have to admit was a possibility. “Whoever did this could have been someone on my team,” I said. “Any one of them would have had the skill needed to alter the police reports and create those emails.”
“You think one of your guys wants Jonas dead?” Cole asked.
“That or they were setting me up.”
Cole straightened in his chair. “What do you mean?”
“If one of my guys just wanted Jonas dead, they could have just as easily done it themselves. But they went through a lot of trouble to make Jonas out to be a pedophile because they knew I’d be the one assigned to take him out.”
“How…how would they know that?” Jonas asked, his voice shaky.
I pinned him with my gaze and said, “Because a pedophile murdered my son.”
Chapter 16
COLE
“Mace…”I heard Jonas whisper in disbelief at Mace’s admission. I could see that Mace was barely holding it together because his fists were clenched on the table and his jaw was tight with agitation.
“I’ll head back down to the city tomorrow…maybe I can find something at Jonas’s studio,” Mace said, ignoring both mine and Jonas’s concerned looks. “It’ll give me a chance to get online to see what I can find out.”
“You’re not going back to the gallery,” I said firmly. “It’s an unnecessary risk.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I’m not followed back,” Mace quipped as he stood. “Besides, it’ll give you two some alone time,” he added, but I recognized the jab for what it was and grabbed his arm to keep him from leaving the kitchen.
“You are not going back there.”
I felt the tension in Mace’s body and I knew it wouldn’t take much to push him over. We were both still bruised and battered from our fight the night before, but I didn’t give a shit. If what he needed was a fight to defuse whatever rage was rolling through him because of the admission about his son, I’d give it to him.
“Was his name Evan?”
Mace froze at Jonas’s question but then nodded.
“How old was he?” Jonas asked gently.
“Seven,” Mace said, his eyes now on the place where I was holding on to his arm.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Jonas said softly. I had no idea if Jonas knew something about Mace’s son that I didn’t, or if he was just guessing, but the question got a reaction from Mace, because he yanked his arm free of my hold and took several steps away from both of us.
“I’m going to go check the perimeter,” he said, his tone clipped. I saw him shutting down and withdrawing from both of us, so I hurried after him when he left the kitchen and I reached for the rifle that was sitting next to the front door before he grabbed it. I stepped in front of the door and wasn’t surprised when he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me back against the unforgiving wood.
“Get the fuck out of my way!” he snarled, his desperate anger reminding me of a wounded animal.
“Mace, please just talk to us,” Jonas said from doorway leading to the kitchen.
