Bad Deeds (Dirty Money #3)

Cody steps into the room, his expression puzzled, voice low. “Your mother saw images of Ted on TV and started shaking. She insisted on going downstairs for coffee and to get some air. I had one of our men take her.”

I’m reminded of the call I overhead. “This,” I say, “would be a good time for me to talk to Shane alone.”

Shane glances over at me. “You know something about my mother?”

“Yes.”

“Just say it, sweetheart,” he urges. “I’m not a delicate flower.”

Only the truth is that his mother’s shortfalls bother him deeply. Still, time is of the essence, and I push forward. “I overheard her on a phone call. She asked why she wasn’t warned about today and then said she didn’t think she could go through with ‘this,’ whatever that means.”

Shane presses fingers to his temples, while Seth folds his arms in front of him and Cody shows no reaction at all. “The many possibilities this represents are innumerable,” Seth states. “We need to know what Derek knows and then confront her.”

“I’ll talk to both of them,” Shane says.

“Let me talk to her,” I suggest. “If she’s trapped and needs an escape, it won’t come in the form of her angry, scorned son. It’s at least an option.”

“All right,” Shane says. “I’ll talk to Derek first.”

Seth shakes his head. “I’d recommend you talk to Derek while she heads down to talk to your mother. If there’s something else planned, and her comment about not being able to go through with this indicates there is, we need to know what it is and by who.”

Shane looks at me. “He’s right. I’ll text you when I get answers from Derek.”

I nod and walk to the desk for my purse, slipping it back over my head and across my chest. “I’m ready.”

Seth reaches into his pocket and produces a can of pepper spray. “Just in case, I want you to have this. Cody can show you how to use it on the way down.”

“I was a single girl before coming here,” I say, accepting it and slipping it into my purse. “I know how to use it and do the most damage.”

“Do you know how to use a gun?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, offering nothing more, aware that this isn’t the time or place to discuss why I was armed back in Texas long before my family was corrupted by a hacker operation. Instead I say, “I won’t be the girl who went down without one hell of a fight.”





CHAPTER FIFTEEN





EMILY



Cody and I step into the elevator, and we both know enough not to have any conversation of merit with cameras rolling. We face forward, both folding our arms in front of our chests, and he clears his throat, but before the doors shut, Jessica appears and holds the door. “As I thought,” she says, handing me a tissue. “You need this.”

My brow furrows, but I accept the tissue. “I’m not going to cry, if that is what you think.”

“Unless you’re making a fashion statement,” she says, “and Lord knows with my hair extensions, I get it, your lipstick is on your cheek, not your lips.”

I whirl around to look in the mirror, laughing as I confirm that, indeed, I have pink all over the place. “At least it’s me, not Shane,” I say, cleaning myself up.

“He was a mess too when he told me where you were headed,” she says, “which is what alerted me to your potential problem as well. I didn’t think you’d want to talk to his mother in your current state. Aside from the fact that she’s scornful of any hair any of us has out of place, it would have pretty much announced you’d been making out with her son.”

“That would have been bad,” I agree, facing forward. “Thank you.”

“Friends don’t let friends look like they put their makeup on drunk.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I object.

“It was bad, honey,” she says, turning her attention to Cody. “Why didn’t you tell her? You’re supposed to be protecting her, not letting Shane’s mother attack her for having her tongue down her son’s throat.”

I shake my head. “Good grief, Jessica.”

“I was going to tell her,” he replies.

Jessica scowls. “No, you were not.”

The elevator starts dinging over and over, the door jerking against Jessica’s grip. “That means let it go,” Cody informs her. “We need to get downstairs. You’ll have plenty of time to reprimand me later.”

“I don’t reprimand,” she states, clearly missing the invitation I’m certain was in his words. “I simply point out logical conclusions and actions,” she adds, glancing at me. “I was sitting with Shane’s mother when the Ted story came on the news. She started to tremble, like he was her son or something. Like it was personal. Something wasn’t right about it.”

I nod my understanding and she glances at Cody, the two of them exchanging a look I tune out, my mind processing the observations shared with me. Jessica’s astute and observant. If she thinks Maggie’s personally involved, and I’m of the opinion that she is, I’m not going to like the details, which is all the more reason why I have to get Maggie to talk to me.

“I would have told you about the lipstick,” Cody assures me as the doors shut and the car starts moving. “I’m here to protect you, and I will. I have your back. That’s what I’m telling you.”

I glance over at him. “I appreciate that. It’s Shane’s back I’m worried about.”

“We all have his back and we’re one hell of a team, you included.”

“Jessica—”

“Is bossy, arrogant, and beautiful,” he says. “She’s also loyal, but that doesn’t change the reality here. She’s going to have to learn that we Mexican men like to be in charge.”

I’m not sure if he’s talking about his job, or something more personal, but whatever the case, the elevator dings and I laugh. “Good luck with that one.”

He winks at me and holds the door, and really, truly, he’s incredibly charming and good-looking. The kind of man I’d wish for Jessica. Except for one thing, I think, stepping into the corridor, with him by my side. At any moment, he could end up like Ted. But then again, at any moment, I fear Shane could as well. I could too. We all could. And this idea seals my pledge to get the answers I need from Maggie. “She sitting in the bar area,” Cody tells me as we turn left into the main lobby and start walking in that direction, our steps determined, no words spoken.

We turn left again, our path now framed by couches and tables, as well as a bar to our left, but Maggie is nowhere to be found. Cody’s cell phone buzzes and he glances at the screen then at me. “She moved to the back corner of the restaurant, which is all but empty, since it’s midafternoon.”

Midafternoon, I think, as we walk toward the archway leading to the restaurant, wondering how I’ve lost my concept of time today. “Table for two?” the cute, blond twentysomething hostess asks.