“What did you do?” Cassie shuffled her feet, inching her way through the living room and into the kitchen. The house was furnished, but it didn’t feel lived in. “Where’s Viotto?”
Davenport pushed the gun deeper into her back. “Move.”
Cassie rounded the corner into the kitchen. Viotto slumped against the wall with his hands tied in front of him. There was a trickle of blood coming from his temple. Disregarding Davenport’s instructions, she rushed forward and cradled Viotto’s head in her hands. He slowly blinked open his eyes.
“He’s fine.” Davenport was pacing, but he still had his gun trained on them. “I just knocked him out for a second.”
“Where’s the witness?”
He laughed. “There is no witness. I own this house. My mother left it to me when she died. Always planned on fixing it up to sell, but I guess that’s not going to happen now.”
Cassie’s gaze flicked around the kitchen. Now she could see how dusty it was. No one had been inside for quite some time. Which also meant—
“You won’t find anything.” Davenport gestured around the room with his gun. “Weapons, I mean. Don’t bother.”
“What do you want?”
“Now that’s the first smart question you’ve asked so far.” Davenport clenched his jaw. “Let’s make sure Agent Viotto is paying attention before I answer it.”
Cassie turned back to Viotto. His eyes were sharper now. He strained against the ropes that bound his hands, but they were too tight. He wouldn’t have a chance to get out of them unless Cassie could figure out how to cut them without Davenport noticing.
“Let Cassie go.” Viotto’s voice was strong, and it made her feel safe. “This is between you and me.”
“Actually, it’s between me and her.” Davenport locked his sights on Cassie. “If it wasn’t for her, Anthony Lewis would go down for Connor Grayson’s murder, and the senator wouldn’t be sitting in a holding cell.”
“Are you working for him?” Cassie asked.
“No.” Davenport sounded like he could spit nails. “The man’s an idiot. He might have his good looks and his connections, but Apex has been playing him like a fiddle for years.”
Cassie’s eyes widened. “You work for Apex.”
“Not anymore.” Davenport took a step forward, and Cassie pressed her body against the wall. “Thanks to you.”
She knew no one was coming to get them, but she had to keep Davenport talking. If she wasted enough time, maybe an opportunity would present itself. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you fucked everything up.” Spittle flew from his mouth, and he waved the gun around like it was nothing. Like it couldn’t end her life with the lightest touch of his finger. “Lewis would go down for the murder. Grayson would stay out of jail. I’d get a promotion. It was fool-proof. Except I didn’t think I’d be dealing with a psychic. I’m not one to believe in that horse-shit, but there’s no other way you could’ve known Lewis didn’t pull the trigger.”
“It was you.” Cassie ground her teeth together. “You killed Connor to protect Grayson. But you didn’t do it for the senator. You did it for Apex. If they lost their champion, they’d have to back another horse. That takes a lot of resources.”
“They’ve got resources.” Davenport shook his head. “What they don’t have is time.”
“They’d have to find someone else to groom for the presidency.” Cassie’s stomach churned. “They must be pretty mad at you.”
“Oh, they are.” Davenport’s eyes were wild. There was still spittle on his chin. “Apex doesn’t offer second chances. And I have you to thank for that.”
“Blame me,” Viotto said. “I’m the one who wanted her on the case.”
“How about I blame both of you?”
“So, what? You’re going to kill us?” Cassie was scared and angry and tired of being at the wrong end of the barrel. “How’s that going to make anything better? Then you’ll go down for three murders instead of just one.”
“I’m aware of the odds, sweetheart, thank you.” Davenport sneered at her, but he lowered his weapon. “Luckily for you, I’m willing to negotiate.”
A floorboard creaked, and a figure appeared behind Davenport. The detective whipped around, but he couldn’t raise his gun fast enough. One minute, he was standing, and the next, he was laying prone on the ground with Mannis pointing a gun at his head.
38
Cassie scrambled to untie Viotto, who immediately retrieved his gun from the next room where it must’ve landed when Davenport had disarmed him. Now the detective had two guns pointed at his face. He didn’t dare move a muscle.
“Been following this asshole for hours. He tailed you from Bolton’s apartment building to the crime scene. Color me shocked when I saw him go right up to you two and invite you to follow him here.”
“Saw the tail, didn’t know it was him.” Viotto glared at Davenport. “Said he had a witness he wanted to check out.”
“Technically, I did—”
“Shut up.” Viotto clenched his jaw. “You won’t get a warm welcome when we take you in.”
“Wait.” Davenport finally looked worried. “You can’t take me back there. They’ll kill me.”
Mannis holstered his gun and retrieved Davenport’s, unloaded it, and tucked it away. “What do you propose?”
Viotto refused to look away from the man on the ground. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“He said he’s willing to negotiate. We’ve got nothing on Apex. Let’s hear what he has to say. If it’s good enough, we take him home with us. If it’s not,” Mannis shrugged, “we let his friends deal with him.”
Viotto backed up, but didn’t lower his weapon. Davenport sat up and scooted back against the wall. He kept his hands visible the entire time.
“I want immunity.”
The room was silent for a full ten seconds before Viotto tipped his head back and laughed. Even Mannis chuckled. The two agents looked at each other and shook their heads. Viotto made a show of wiping away a tear.
“I didn’t know you were this funny, Davenport.”
“I’m not joking.” He leaned forward. His eyes were wild.
