“Eat.Then I’ll tell you.”
“Griffin…” I gave him a warning look.“What’s going on?”My question sounded more like a demand.
“Knight’s got something on your sister.He needs us.”
I shoved the last bite of toast in my mouth without tasting it, watching Griffin move through the kitchen.His whole demeanor changed, like he was on edge now where he’d been relaxed.
He rinsed the dishes while I snagged a pair of jeans.Then he reached out for me.Without hesitation, I slid my hand into his.He held the door to let me exit first, but kept my hand in his as I stepped into the corridor.
The hallway outside Griffin’s apartment stretched the length of the building.Somewhere down the corridor a door was open and the murmur of voices carried up the stairwell, low and male and not at all like men starting a casual morning.My gut tightened in dread as Griffin guided me with his firm, gentle grip.I let him, because my legs felt like rubber and because a gut-gnawing dread settled deep in my belly.I didn’t know if I could make it without falling if he let me go.
Instead of going to an office, Griffin took me to a small conference room looking place.Knight sat at the head of the table with his laptop open and a stack of printouts at his elbow.His eyes still startled me every time I saw him, the inked black against the glacial blue of his irises.Knuckles stood behind him with his arms crossed.Gunnar leaned against the wall by the coffeepot.Two men sat at the far end of the table.
The first one I recognized from a photograph I’d printed from the Internet six months ago when I was first trying to map out who held what in Nashville.Antonio Miles.Tonio.Tall, broad, dark chestnut hair cut clean, a beard that looked like it cost a small fortune to maintain.He wore an impeccable charcoal suit jacket over a black shirt, no tie, and he looked at me with a sharp, assessing gaze.The second man sat to his right, smaller, and watched me with focused stillness.
Tonio inclined his head.“Miss Garrison.”
“Mr.Miles.”
He raised an eyebrow.“You’ve done your homework.”
I shrugged.“I had nothing better to do.”
Knuckles grinned and motioned to a couple of seats.“Sit.”
Griffin nodded to me and took the chair next to mine, close enough that his knee bumped my thigh under the table, and didn’t move it away.Knight turned the laptop so the screen faced toward the middle of the table where everyone could see.
“Let me walk you through what we’ve got,” Knight said.He pulled up a flowchart, boxes connected by lines, names, and dates and dollar amounts threaded through it like veins.“Your ledgers cracked the whole thing open.I’ve spent the last fourteen hours cross-referencing the codes against shipping manifests, court filings, and a couple of databases I probably shouldn’t be in.”He shot Tonio a look.The other man raised an eyebrow but nodded.
“Shouldn’t be in legally or shouldn’t be in morally?”I asked, half joking.
Knight didn’t bat an eye.“Yes.”
Griffin huffed a laugh beside me.Knight ignored him and tapped the screen.
“Three transport hubs outside Nashville,” he said.“One off I-65 south, near a freight company called Ballwell Logistics.One up by the Kentucky line, a salvage yard listed under three different LLCs that all trace back to the same holding company.One west, almost to Memphis, attached to a roadhouse that’s been a Steel Serpents hangout for the better part of a decade.Women come in from out of state, get processed at the hubs, get cleaned up, then move throughÉclipsefor the auction phase.”
“Buyers,” Knight continued.He clicked.A new list.Initials in a column, full names beside them where he’d been able to make the match.“There’s a state supreme court judge, three sheriff’s deputies, two in Davidson County, one in Williamson, taking flat payments to look the other way at specific dates and locations.Two judges below the appellate level, and a state senator I’m still trying to find a confirmed second source for before I pass that on.”He glanced at Tonio.
“Good,” Tonio said quietly.
“There are also three laundering fronts.Éclipseyou know.The import business on the ground floor of the same building.And several mid-scale restaurants in rural areas surrounding Nashville all owned by Renee Vossberg, who I am ninety-five percent sure is Iron’s sister-in-law.”
Knight clicked again.
“Special handling codes,” he said.“These are the ones that didn’t go through auction but went to private buyers.”His voice flattened on the last words and I knew what was coming before he said it, but knowing didn’t help.He scrolled.A list of two-letter codes, each one paired with a date and a buyer initial and a five-digit number that wasn’t a price but a person.
He stopped on one line.“This code matches your sister’s designation.The date is the date Veda said Tessa stopped answering her phone.The buyer’s initial is the letter ‘I’.”
“I’ve been chasing that letter for weeks.Since I first found the ledgers.Lord knows I’ve stared at my sister’s name reduced to what amounts to an item number on a shopping list.Not a human being, but something to be sold.”I knew I sounded angry and made no apologies.I had a right to be angry.
Knuckles uncrossed his arms.He looked at me across the table for a long moment, and whatever he saw in my face made him drop his chin once, a small, deliberate nod.“You were right,” he said.“About all of it.You found all of this yourself.”
“Pretty sure I told you I was right about all of it,” I snapped.Then I closed my eyes and took a breath.
“Veda.”
“Look, I appreciate your need for independent review and your own verification.I get it.But can we move along please?What’s the next move?”
