HQ? Like we’re living a spy movie? On the other side of Corey, Milo smirks.
“So I told the guards to report back and they did and then—” Corey fiddles with his phone for a beat before showing us the screen. Lell Daley smiles up from some newspaper article. I look away, my nose suddenly filled with the scent of mud. “And then that happened and I figured that’s what he needed to find and I was finished, but I was contacted again.”
“Same guy as before?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Corey curls into himself, shoulders hunched. “He wanted me to do another job for him.”
“What kind of job?”
“Getting into some guy’s office at the courthouse, which is, like, totally impossible because that asshole powers down his computer every night.”
Milo’s expression turns disgusted. “Have some pride, man. You could have found a work-around.”
“Like what? Breaking into the office? The client’s not even sure the pictures he wants are even on this lawyer’s computer.”
“Pictures of what?” I ask.
Corey wiggles in place, attention focused on Milo. “He didn’t say and, before you start, hell no I didn’t ask him. That’s some fucked-up shit that he’s in the middle of. You should’ve seen that BlackBerry he sent me—”
I stiffen. “BlackBerry?”
“Yeah, that was my first job for him, breaking into this BlackBerry. It was shipped to my PO box. Wasn’t too difficult to work through the passwords, get inside. Girlie was a piece of work. She was keeping dirt on the guy she was working for. Whatever he wanted wasn’t there though.”
Girlie? Surely it couldn’t be . . . “Do you remember the girl’s name?”
“Hell yes, I do.” Corey chews the side of his thumb. “It’s only in all the papers. Chelsea Martin.”
“Any idea what he was hoping you’d find?”
“Yeah, supposedly she had some pictures. If she did, she wasn’t keeping them stored on her phone and I told him that and then he asked me to break into the county courthouse.”
“Which office?”
“I don’t remember.” Corey’s eyes skitter around the room, landing on everything and nothing. “Some guy named Ed.”
“Ed Price?”
“Yeah, that’s it. The Chelsea chick had sent the pictures to Ed and my guy wanted them back before Ed found them.”
Huh. Ed Price is running against Bay in the election and, if Corey’s contact wanted the pictures before Price saw them, could they be something that would damage Bay? “Anything else?”
“I’m not sticking around to find out. Can I go now?”
“Yeah, sure, get lost,” Milo says. “We never had this conversation.”
Corey pushes past him, muttering something that sounds like “asshole.” I speed-dial Carson, and on the third ring, the detective answers. “I was right,” I say. “The guards were called off by a guy who got into Barton and Moore’s security.”
“Good. Bring him to me.”
“Can’t.” The word brings Milo up short. He studies me with raised eyebrows, wondering what I’m saying I can’t do. “He’s gone.”
Milo moves to the door, ready to retrieve Corey, and I snag his sleeve, shake my head hard. I’m not bringing Carson more people he can leverage.
“Can’t or won’t?” the detective spits.
“Can’t,” I repeat, my eyes on Milo, who’s drawing closer, the light scent of his cologne circling him.
Circling me.
“When I said find dirt on Bay—”
“I did. He doesn’t know who he was hired by. Everything was anonymous. He did receive Chelsea Martin’s BlackBerry. She was compiling information against the Bay family—information she kept in the phone’s notes.”
“Anything good?”
“Pictures are supposed to be pretty good. Or at least worth breaking into Ed Price’s office to get them, so have fun with that.”
“Find them for me.”
I blink, unable to believe what he’s saying. “What good would they do you? Without a warrant, you can’t use them in court.”
“There are always other uses for information. If this guy wants the pictures, then I want the pictures. Get them for me.”
“I don’t do breakins.” Then again, I didn’t used to drug people either. I shake myself, but Jason’s accusatory eyes are still branded on my brain.
“Get them for me,” Carson repeats.
“I don’t—” Yes, I do, or I will, because, suddenly, the word leverage is behind my eyelids and in its glow damage steps out of the shadows. If I could get access to Bay’s work computers . . . I could make this work for me.
“What if I said I could take down the courthouse’s security system for you?” Carson asks.
I hesitate, pretend my heart isn’t hammering in my ears. “No way.”
“Really? What if I told you that if you do this, I’ll let you go?”
It knocks my breath askew. He’s lying, but it doesn’t matter because I just got an idea. I look at Milo and grin. “It’s a deal.”
21