“She said to get off.”
The voice came from behind me, a low rumble, calm but definitely threatening. Was that a hint of a Spanish accent? I tilted my head back and saw the shadow looming over me. Black had come back? No, wait. This man-mountain was younger.
“We were training,” Alex mumbled, then coughed a bit.
“When a woman tells you to get off, you get the fuck off.”
“I’m okay,” I got out. “Is he okay?”
“He’ll be fine.”
The newcomer scooped me up and carried me right out of the gym before I could protest, leaving Alex struggling to his knees.
“Who are you?” I mumbled. “Why are you here?”
“I’m Rafael.” He stared down at me with faint incredulity. “Apparently, I’m here to mentor you.”
CHAPTER 10 - BETHANY
“YOU BROUGHT YOUR dog?” Black asked. “Or does it belong to Alaric?”
I’d only met Emmy’s husband briefly, a thirty-second introduction at Riverley, and he was the kind of man who made you clench your thighs and break out in a cold sweat all at the same time. I glanced around for help, but it was just me and the dog in the kitchen. She didn’t have a name. Or any confidence, it seemed, because she yapped a couple of times, then slunk behind my legs when Black’s shadow fell over her. I wasn’t even sure how he’d got in. Had someone hidden a key outside for him?
“Uh, Emmy didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
I gulped, my throat suddenly dry. “The dog…she…well, I guess she belongs to Emmy. Or Dan. Maybe both of them?”
“Fuck.” He raised his gaze heavenwards. “Where is Emmy?”
“Still asleep, I think.” It was six thirty a.m. and I’d only got up to let the dog out. “Her bedroom’s the last door on the left upstairs.”
It had been a late night for everyone yesterday. By the time the others got back, I’d already seen the news. One of the networks had carried the debate live, and I’d almost choked on a biscuit when the screen behind the candidates filled with unmentionables.
And apparently, the porn movie was an even bigger deal than I’d first thought. Not only was the Democratic candidate toast, but Senator Carnes’s daughter had endorsed him right before the debate, so now she looked like a fool too.
There’d been one small glimmer of hope—the others had found Red After Dark. I could see they were trying to take that as a positive, and of course I was too, but the whole case had turned into one big mess.
“Is that coffee I sm— Oh. You’re here early, Chuck.”
Emmy had come dressed for action in black running tights and a tight purple T-shirt, but now she stopped in the doorway.
“What? Were you planning to rehome the dog before I arrived?”
“Not rehome, exactly. More like hide it.”
“Diamond, we already have a dog.”
“Yeah, but Lucy’s getting on in years, and she can’t do the long runs anymore. She needs a sidekick to stand in occasionally. You know, to take some of the pressure off.”
“Barkley here looks as if she’d collapse if she went faster than a walk.”
“Barkley? Oh, how cute—you gave her a name. Now we definitely have to keep her.”
“Emmy…”
“Look, leaving her with her old owner wasn’t an option. He was a mean old bastard, and besides, they don’t let dogs into the emergency room.”
Black groaned. “What did you do to him?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Then what—”
“It was me.” Dan appeared behind Emmy. “If I didn’t fracture his jaw, I’m fairly sure I loosened a tooth or two.”
“How’s your hand today?” Emmy asked.
Dan flexed her fingers. “Much better, thanks. The swelling’s almost gone.”
“Stop changing the subject,” Black said. “Why aren’t you keeping the dog?”
“Because I’m usually out, and so is Ethan. There’s always someone at Riverley.”
“Georgia works at an animal shelter.” Presumably, Georgia was a friend. “They rehome dogs every day. We donated a hundred thousand bucks last year—I’m sure they’d help.”
“Aw, look at that face,” Emmy said. “Isn’t she adorable?”
Emmy crouched down, and the dog crept over to have her head scratched. Then—smart pupper—she tiptoed across to Black and licked his hand. At least Dan and I had given her a bath yesterday so she didn’t smell quite as bad. Her wiry fur had turned from brown to golden as the shower stall went from white to yeuch.
“See?” Emmy’s pleading expression turned to smug satisfaction. “She likes you.”
“I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”
“Do you really want an answer to that? Hey, Barkley, you want bacon? Let’s cook bacon.”
Alaric appeared next, and I really wished I’d made the effort to tidy my hair instead of just scraping it back into a ponytail. He looked good enough to eat, and even though I’d tried to rationalise things—he was my boss, I was getting over a nasty divorce, all men were bastards, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera—I was still really bloody hungry.
I got busy pouring coffee for everyone to keep myself occupied.
“Alaric.” Black gave a curt nod in his direction.
“Black.”
“Is there a plan for today?”
“More or less. First, we’re going out to Harriet Carnes’s horse farm to try and talk her off a ledge. Dan’s gonna stick around there to follow up leads on Emerald while Emmy and I look into porngate. From what I’ve heard, the laptop used for the presentation belonged to O’Shaughnessy personally, which means he has bigger problems than optics. The cops’ll want to speak to him if that kid was under eighteen.”
“I’ve arranged a meeting with O’Shaughnessy at three. His office. We have to go in the back entrance, if you’ll excuse the pun. You’ve got to give whoever set this up credit—the holy grail of scandal is either a live boy or a dead girl, and their boy came prepubescent and in glorious technicolour.”
“You believe this was a set-up?”
“You don’t?”
“I haven’t seen enough evidence either way so far.”
“It’s all a little too convenient. And if Eric Ridley was there… I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Eric Ridley… Emmy mentioned you served with him?”
Black picked up a mug of coffee and took a sip before he answered.
“If there was one thing that got me through Hell Week during SEAL training, it was the thought of never having to take an order from that little shit again.”
“He wasn’t popular, then?”
“Ridley had his allies. Some people join the services to fight for a better world. Others want to learn a trade. Then there are men like Ridley—and I use the term ‘men’ in a purely biological sense—who simply get turned on by pulling the trigger.”
“He was a renegade?”
“I was a renegade. Ridley was a bloodthirsty nutjob. It was only a matter of time before he caused serious damage.”