Page 110 of My Beautiful Sin

How could I have not seen it before?

For that matter, was I really sure now?

I leave the dishwasher open and the glasses on the counter as I race back to the bedroom. My computer’s making progress, the Percentage Complete icon showing that it’s already eighty-percent through the initial rebuild. And since that might be enough, I don’t want to pause the program. I use my tablet instead, pulling up the browser and searching for the newspaper article that had reported Bell’s assassination.

I find the image soon enough. It was picked up by multiple wire services. The picture is black and white, but it’s obvious enough that she’s blond with curly hair. Reggie has dark, straight hair. But both women have the same deep-set eyes. And while the photo is grainy, the prostitute’s skin tone seems to match Reggie’s. It’s darker than I’d expect for a natural blond, although in black and white it’s hard to really tell. But the cheekbones. The wide mouth. The thick eyelashes. And the tiny cleft in her chin.

Reggie.

I’m certain of it.

I toss my tablet on the bed and start to pace, trying to figure out what this means. Bell was assassinated, and she was right there. Had she gotten in close and pulled the trigger? Or was she a distraction, letting someone else get close? Someone like Ronan, who was friendly with Reggie. And who’d also been in Vegas, I’m sure, even though he had a cover story of being in Victorville.

Reggie supposedly runs a hotel, but that’s an excellent cover for any sort of criminal operation, especially if money needs to be laundered.

And Ronan? Well, what exactly does an independent security consultant do, anyway? Hired gun, perhaps?

That’s my best guess. And my second best guess is that he and Reggie were not only working together, but they were running their operation right under Devlin’s nose, using the foundation’s resources to get in close.

I drag my fingers though my hair, my thoughts spinning so fast I almost can’t catch up with myself. Lorenzo was a shit of a human being. And while I can’t abide the idea of those two deciding themselves to take him out, I also can’t deny that the world is better without him. But that doesn’t justify what they did and how they circumvented the law. More than that, who’s to say that they’re only going after bad guys? If Ronan and Reggie are guns for hire, then anyone could be in their sights.

I hug myself, hating the ramifications of what I’ve figured out. Because the bottom line is that it means that Devlin is wrong. For years, he’s believed in Ronan, but that fucker has been using Devlin’s friendship and foundation so he and Reggie can run their own criminal enterprise.

And, dammit, I have to let him know.

My fingers fumble as I dial his cell phone, and he answers on the first ring. “I was just thinking about you,” he says. “Of course, I’m always thinking about you.”

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. How can I tell him this about his best friend over the phone? I should have waited. I should have—

“El? Are you okay?”

“It’s Ronan,” I say, my voice like sandpaper. “He and Reggie. They’re dirty. They’re using you.”

There’s a long silence, so long that I pull the phone back and look at the screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. Then Devlin says, very slowly, “What are you talking about?”

I swallow, then take him through everything step by step. Everything from the prostitute with Bell to Ronan and Reggie being so comfortable together at the festival. “I’m right,” I say when I’m finished. “I can feel it in my gut.”

“No.” Just one word, but it holds a world of certainty.

“Devlin, you can’t just look away. Think about it. You know I’m right.”

“You’re not,” he says. “Ellie, you have to trust me on this. I know Ronan. I know Reggie. I trust both of them, and they are not fucking me over.”

I close my eyes, hating that I’m forcing him to look at his friends differently. And hating even more the fact that his friends betrayed him. “I know you don’t want to see it,” I say slowly. “I know how much the people in your life betrayed you. Do you think I enjoy telling you this? Do you think it’s fun for me? But you have to open your eyes, Devlin. I’m staring at a mountain of facts. The least you can do is examine them, too.”

“I know the facts. And I know you’re wrong.”

I sigh. This is not the way I wanted this to go, and more and more I’m wishing I’d waited to see him. “Come over,” I say. “We can talk in person. And, honestly, I may have more proof by the time you get here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Corbin’s software. It’s doing its thing. I figure there’s a good chance that Ronan’s one of the figures on the bank building. And if that’s the case, odds are good he’s with Reggie.”

“Christ, Ellie. What have you—” He cuts himself off, and I hear him take a deep breath. “You’re telling me that software almost has a clear image of those people?”

“I can’t tell how clear yet, but it’s almost finished with the first rendering. The bank building is already cleaned up.” It’s true. The lines are crisp and clear now. Not that I care about the building, but it gives me hope for the software’s progress with the people. “If the program’s right, I might see their faces in the next twenty or so minutes.”

I wait for him to respond, but there’s nothing. And this time when I look at the phone, I see that the call has dropped.