Becs said you can share a room with her.
“He can leave his stuff at the concierge,” Reese stated. “That way, we don’t have to make another stop. We can go right to the Monolith building.”
Brantley sent the new instructions to Evan.
Leave your stuff with the concierge and meet us at the Monolith.
10-4.
With that problem solved, Brantley tucked his phone in his pocket and stepped outside. It was hot, more so because all the buildings blocked any hope for wind. The streets were crowded and growing more so as the day passed. If they weren’t careful, they’d get swept up in the evening rush hour.
“You think we’re wastin’ our time goin’ to see this Knox guy?” Slade asked, walking alongside Brantley as they headed down the sidewalk.
“Probably,” he admitted.
Since they didn’t have any other leads to go on, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try. You never knew what a conversation might turn up. But yes, since Kieran didn’t know Decker’s whereabouts and he was actually a family friend, he figured Knox Montgomery would be a bust.
Two hours later, as they were walking out of the Monolith, having no more information than when they’d gone in, Brantley was at a loss.
In a city with a population of eight and a half million covering over three hundred square miles, they didn’t stand a chance of finding Decker. Certainly not if the guy didn’t want to be found. And while Brantley didn’t know that was the case, he was beginning to think it was. A seasoned operator like Decker would know to leave a few breadcrumbs for instances when he might find himself in hot water. From where Brantley stood, it looked as though the guy had purposely gone off the grid.
“Let’s grab some food,” Reese told him, clearly sensing his frustration. “We’ll take a breather and regroup.”
The entire day was a bust. They’d spent the morning working in the hotel’s business center, communicating with Luca and Darius while Becs tried to work things from this end. When JJ’d gotten to the office, she’d summed up everything they had, which was pretty much nothing more than they already knew. Ronan Kavanagh, Kieran O’Rourke, and Knox Montgomery had netted them nothing.
Well, maybe that wasn’t true. If they used deductive reasoning versus inductive, they were starting to see a pattern, and everything was pointing to Decker having gone rogue versus him having been taken. It was also leaving Z’s participation in the whole thing questionable. From the outside, it appeared that Z was helping them find Decker, but Brantley was starting to suspect that they were being sent off course on purpose.
“Since you haven’t spoken to Saoirse Kavanagh,” Evan prompted. “Why don’t Slade and I go to her apartment again? See if she’s there.”
It was almost three, which meant there was plenty of daylight left for them to search for their missing colleague. If only they had a destination to focus on. It wasn’t like they could go door to door and ask people if they’d seen the man.
“She’s got a penthouse apartment with more security than the Kavanagh building,” Brantley told him.
“The reference is lost on him, boss,” Slade said with a grin. “He didn’t have the pleasure.” Slade turned to Evan. “Seriously, man. If she’s holed up at home, I doubt we’ll get anywhere near her.”
“He’s right,” Brantley agreed. “If she doesn’t want us to know she’s there, we aren’t gonna know.”
“We could watch it for a while. See who comes and goes,” Evan offered.
“Have you everbeento New York?” Brantley retorted, gesturing toward the hordes of people that surrounded them. Picking one person out of this mob would be nearly impossible.
“It won’t hurt to try,” Slade added.
“Fine,” Brantley told him, but he looked at Slade. “However, you won’t be goin’ with him. I want you to stay partnered with Atticus.”
He could see Slade’s confusion, but he didn’t feel the need to elaborate. Brantley had watched Atticus at the club last night. He’d honestly been impressed. While Slade had practically glued his eyes to Becs’s backside, Atticus had spoken to every person he came in contact with, flashing the photo of Decker that he had on his phone. For a guy who pretended not to give a shit about anything, Atticus could focus when he wanted to.
“I can go alone,” Evan told him, glancing between him and Slade.
“Take Becs.”
The man’s eyebrows popped up so quickly that Brantley had to backtrack to what he’d said to ensure it hadn’t been inappropriate.
“Somethin’ wrong?” he asked, glancing between Evan and Becs.
“Not at all,” Becs said at the same time Evan said, “No. Not a thing.”
Weird.
