“What is it you want from me?”Max asked, glancing at the group of men sitting at the table.“If you’re here for me to give you my life story, it’s not gonna happen.”
“We’re tryin’ to determine whether Martin Calloway actually has somethin’ on you,” Brantley stated.“To take him down, we need to understand his motivations.”
“I can assure you, I don’t make a habit of taking care of personal matters in a way that might risk an audience,” he told the big Navy SEAL.“I’m well aware that there are eyes on me constantly.So, no, your witness did not see me, or anyone I know, do anything illegal.”
“Do you know of a reason why Calloway might have it out for you?”
“Aside from him leading the charge for the organized crime division of the FBI,” Atticus added.
Max laughed.“Of course.”
He took a sip of whiskey and glanced at all the faces looking to him for an answer.He didn’t have one.Not one that they wanted to hear.Based on the curious glances, they expected him to offer up something that would make sense.But for that to happen, Max would have to admit that his psychopathic father had an affair with Calloway’s wife many moons ago.And since Samuel had fucked pretty much anything with two legs and a pussy, it wasn’t easy to keep up.
But Calloway probably would’ve dismissed that since he wasn’t the faithful sort either.He had a penchant for prostitutes, and he was known to rough ’em up when the urge struck.But Max figured it was safe to say Calloway had been far kinder to his whores than Samuel had been.Not long after one of Calloway’s whores gave birth to his bastard baby, Samuel had come along and strangled the life out of the woman.
So, no, Max had no desire to share that morbid tale of infidelity and sociopathic tendencies.The only reason he was even meeting with them was because he respected Travis.He’d already paid his debt to Reese by helping them to fake Tobias Land’s death to protect him.Max didn’t make a habit of being too generous.People tended to take advantage.
Rather than make up some bullshit that might help them sleep at night, Max said, “I don’t know, gentlemen.You’ll likely have to ask him.”
Archer walked into the hotel suite feelinglike he’d wasted the last three hours of his life.If it hadn’t been for a damn fine meal, he would’ve wanted to get that time back.Aside from Simon’s less personal questions, Max Adorite hadn’t answered anything.Not with truth or fact, at least.
They had gotten nowhere, but Archer also wasn’t sure what they thought they would actually get.Even if Max had admitted he did or did not kill a person when he was nineteen years old, there was no proof.Plus, they had a statement from Decker telling them that Meredith had not seen anything.She couldn’t testify because she wasn’t actually a witness.
Which meant Martin Calloway was out for blood and willing to do whatever was necessary to take Max down, and it likely had nothing to do with that fictitious reason.But murder would’ve sounded good to a jury, so that was likely why Calloway had come up with it in the first place.
Was kidnapping a woman and faking her death part ofwhatever was necessary?Or had Holt conjured up something that offered nothing more than wishful thinking and false hope?
“What’s on your mind?”Atticus asked as the door closed behind them.
“I’m not really sure.”Archer glanced at the minibar.“I sure could use a beer right about now.Want anything?”
“Beer’s good.”
Archer grabbed two beers from the small fridge.He used the bottle opener to remove the tops, then passed one to Atticus before taking a seat on the sofa.
“Did you learn anything tonight?”he asked Atticus as he tipped the bottle to his lips.
“I learned that a mafia boss can talk in circles.”
Archer laughed.“That he can.But what did we think he was gonna say?Oh, yeah.When I was nineteen?Sure.I killed a guy.A half dozen, in fact.Which one are we talkin’ about?”
Atticus grinned.“Well, he definitely did not say that.”
“Nope.He told us nothing.”
“But we told him everything.You notice that?”
Archer stared at Atticus.“That he managed to get every detail out of us?Oh, yeah.I noticed.”
“You think that was the plan?To give him the info and let him deal with it?”
“I don’t think that’s what Brantley was hoping for.Travis, maybe.”
They sat there for a few minutes, drinking beer.Archer replayed the conversation from memory, coming up with nothing of substance that would get them to their end goal—finding Kylie Walker, if she was, in fact, still alive.
Or perhaps their end goal was to take down Censorious.
Maybe both.
