Page 63 of No Lies No Promises

He catches it, then raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, bro. A lifetime off the grid? Who wouldn’t hold their cards close?”

Have I been wrong to make Lillian choose between her sister and me? Am I the asshole?

As we spar, my leg responds much better, only complaining slightly. Soon, we’re both drenched in sweat, gasping for air.

Wiping his brow with a towel, he slaps me on the back. “Does it get any easier?”

I shake my head. “I’ll let you know.” After I go back to beg for Lil’s forgiveness.

“Hey, you two.” One of Dante’s men shouts from the doorway. “The boss wants you upstairs. Now.”

Instead of the conference room, the guy leads us to Dante’s living quarters on the top floor.

Warehouse chic. Exposed brick walls. Street-facing tinted windows. No doubt bulletproof. His modern kitchen has brand-new appliances. Stone countertops. Original plank floors. Open floor plan.

The place is every real estate agent’s fantasy sale.

He leads us to a seating area with two wraparound couches and four lounge chairs. Charcuterie boards of cheese and meat cubes, each with a toothpick, sit atop small tables.

“Thanks for coming.” Dante glances up from his computer. “Help yourselves. Eat.”

As I load up a paper plate, Lillian joins us, choosing the chair farthest from me. I can’t say I blame her, but the distance stings. If our host notices the tension, he doesn’t say anything, which I appreciate.

Relationships aren’t a team sport.

Soon after, Daed’s head appears on the monitor. “We ready?”

Dante nods. “Proceed.”

“Okay, so far we’ve drawn a blank finding our two missing women. To help, I downloaded a beta-release AI program. With your permission, I’d like to add him to our conversation. His name is Stanley.”

A resonant voice worthy of Morgan Freeman fills the room. “Good afternoon. How can I assist you today?”

Dante scoots his chair forward. “Stanley, summarize the Parkhaven case to date.”

While I appreciate AI as a tool, it can’t draw human conclusions. We’re burning daylight. We need to find Grams and Becks. This is bullshit.

I keep my trap shut while the machine recaps how the schizophrenic, Simone Hart, ran Lil and me off the road. I say nothing as it describes the fertilizer bomb.

When it mentions how Jeff Pearson claimed to be her brother, I barge in. “I have a question. He kidnapped Samantha Hart months before we started investigating Parkhaven. Why?”

“Grams gave him a candle reading?” When Lillian smirks, I wink, grinning at her. At least she’s not pissed at me anymore.

“Sorry.” Face red, she glances at Dante’s scowl. “Couldn’t resist.”

“Jeff Pearson’s motivation is unknown.” Stanley pauses. “Would you like me to tell a joke or continue?”

“Continue,” Dante says.

“The next incident happened in Manhattan.”

I drift off as the AI describes every detail from the penthouse fire, all the way to Lil’s emergency room visit.

Needing to move things along, I push to my feet. “Then, I was falsely accused of drugging a woman. Jeff used the same substance to roofie Lillian. Yeah, yeah. We were there.”

My partner raises a hand. “Don’t forget Pearson and your father argued. Oh, and someone sent us a video of Grams and Becks with red dots on their chests.”

Dante scowls. “And Fitzpatrick knew your father was in Ireland.”