“I don’t think you should have been made CEO,” Theresa continued, as Leila only half listened. “But I’ve never said that publicly. Within the company, I always supported you. I did my best to protect you. I felt like I owed it to your dad. And your uncle, even though I shouldn’t really owe him anything.” She let out a nervous-sounding laugh that was unusual enough from always confident Theresa to get Leila’s full attention.
“Why not?” Leila asked.
“Why not what?” Theresa squinted at her, her expression saying she wasn’t sure if Leila had totally lost it or if she legitimately needed to defend herself and her loyalty.
“Why wouldn’t you owe Uncle Joel anything?” He’d been the one to hire her after all, not Leila’s dad.
“Well, I mean, he should feel pretty good about what he’s gotten from me.” She flushed a little, shrugged.
“You and Uncle Joel...”
“Yeah, for the last couple of months again,” Theresa admitted, her gaze darting from Leila to Eric as her cheeks turned an even deeper red. “It’s foolish, I know. We’ve been on-again, off-again for years. It’s casual. Your uncle will never do serious.”
“How casual?” Leila asked as a new, terrible possibility nudged at her. Davis had told his team that Theresa, Eric and Joel were his top suspects. If Uncle Joel had been dating Theresa, he could have easily swiped her card. Maybe even borrowed her car.
She tried to shrug off the idea. She loved her uncle. He loved her. He’d half raised her. And he loved her dad. The two brothers had grown up with abuse so bad that Leila had never met her grandparents. Uncle Joel and her dad had been incredibly close, until her dad had met her mom. Even afterward, they’d stuck together. Uncle Joel had taken over her dad’s company at a time when it would have folded otherwise.
He’d saved her father’s livelihood, ensured they still had the money to send Leila to the best schools. But that act had also given Uncle Joel a level of access to everything that he never would have had otherwise. It had given him contacts and opportunities. And he was often out of the office, something she’d never questioned because of all the years he’d put in holding the company together. What if he’d spent that time using the company for his own gain, the way he did women?
No way, Leila told herself, ashamed for even thinking it.
“...a charmer,” Theresa was saying and Leila tried to focus, realizing the woman was talking about her relationship with Leila’s uncle.
“It wouldn’t have lasted anyway,” Theresa said, still flushed a deep red. “I know you and your uncle are close, but there’s a reason he’s got a reputation with women as a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy. He’s...” She shook her head. “Never mind. Jeez. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. And I don’t know why there’s suddenly all this scrutiny on my access card, but whatever you suspect me of, I didn’t—”
“He’s what?” Leila pressed, ignoring the rest of it.
Theresa shrugged, then said softly, “I don’t know if he’s really capable of loving anyone.”
Theresa apologized, tried to backtrack, but Leila was only half paying attention. Words her father had spoken years ago, with embarrassment and a hint of shame popped into her mind. “He’s just unreliable, honey. He’s always in things for himself.” It had been so long ago, before her mother had died, one of many times her uncle had promised to show up for something, but never appeared.
But he’d changed. Hadn’t he? She couldn’t possibly have misjudged him so thoroughly.
Leila clutched her stomach, which churned as she realized that if Uncle Joel had taken Theresa’s access card to swap out the armor, if he’d been the one betraying the company for cash all these years, then it was so much worse than even thinking Eric had done it. It would mean Uncle Joel had killed his own brother.
“Leila.”
Eric’s tone, full of dark realization, snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, gripping her arm. “I know I promised I wouldn’t, but...”
He looked from her to Theresa as Leila snapped, “What? What is it?”
“I told your uncle that Davis is FBI.”
BECA WAS GOING DOWN.
Not all of the members, because the loosely connected organization had members across the country. But enough that Kane felt really good about today’s arrest plan.
Except for one thing. No matter what argument he threw at her, Melinda refused to be shut out of the arrest.
Even now, she was babbling on in profiler mode, acting like she had any right to fish around in his mind.
He’d thought that when they’d last argued, when she’d revealed—intentionally or not—that she’d had some deep loss of her own, she’d back off. That she’d let him take the lead and she’d fade into the background, focus on the paperwork and the profiling. Let him dive into the danger. The way it should be, each of them focusing on their strengths.
But if nothing else, Melinda was persistent and stubborn. Even if she didn’t want to work with him at all.
The idea stung. It was ironic, given how hard he’d tried to make her feel that way. Now that she did, he half wished he could take it back.
But not right now. Not with a dangerous large-scale arrest happening on a group known for its propensity for violence and a stockpile of ready weapons. The FBI had gotten a tip that a group was meeting that night. The arrest warrants had come in and the plan was to make a big arrest, grab a bunch of them before word could get out and anyone could run—or arm themselves and prepare for a standoff.
He didn’t want Melinda anywhere near it.
“This is still about Pembrook’s daughter,” Melinda insisted, and Kane couldn’t believe her audacity.
He ground his back teeth together, trying to hold in the anger that always rushed forward when anyone dared to bring up that incident.
“You’re scared I’m
