“It appears he does.” Derek sifted through the file. “She’s nothing like his usual victim. Well-moneyed, cultured, established in the upper echelon of wealthy society, not just in Chicago, but international circles. In the past, he’s been more apt to target up-and-coming businesspeople with little experience making investments. But he appears to have switched gears.” The captain took the photograph back from Sera, tossing it faceup onto the desk’s surface. “Reitman arrived in Chicago with the young woman, although they’re not living together, nor do we have any idea how long they’ve been acquainted. But they’re frequently seen together at parties, dinners, and what have you. It’s possible he’s going for one final score, getting this woman and several of her peers to invest in a fabricated idea. That’s what we need to find out.”
Austin’s sixth sense began to ping. Derek was right; this wasn’t Charles’s racket. It was too big. Too risky. And to Austin’s knowledge, Reitman didn’t mix women with business, although he certainly indulged that particular vice off the clock. Handling the women had been Austin’s end of the bargain and the reason Reitman had taken him on as a partner in the first place. His ability to charm the fairer sex had been his way into the life. Not to mention, the reason he’d wanted out after years of using his body to make money. He’d been nothing short of a prostitute.
Something was afoot here, and the acid boiling in Austin’s gut told him it was bad. Very bad. But when Derek opened the folder again and Austin caught a peek at a woman’s photograph, Austin realized he’d had no idea the level of fucked-up that had been achieved. Reitman’s mark was the last woman Austin had ever conned. Isobel Klausky. Sitting on the woman’s knee was his illegitimate daughter in her ballet costume, red hair in pigtails tied up with ridiculous white bows.
“No,” Austin whispered, the room crumbling around him.
The captain was looking at him again. “If you have something to say, Austin, speak up.”
Years of training gave Austin the outward appearance of composure, even though razor blades made mincemeat of his organs. “I said, no. A leopard doesn’t change its spots.” Find out as much as possible. Find out what Derek knows. Austin had a feeling it was more than he was letting on. “There must be a personal connection between them. Something that gave him an inroad to which he wouldn’t typically have access.”
“Such as?”
Derek didn’t have the answer yet. It was there in the frustrated set of his jaw. But Austin reckoned he only had a matter of days before the captain was in the know. He hadn’t underestimated Derek on day one, and he wouldn’t make that mistake now. Nothing happened in this city without their leader being fully informed. Austin ran a hand through his hair, turning it into a stretch. “I can’t work miracles, old boy. Give me some time.”
The captain inclined his head. “Had a feeling you might finally decide to be useful on this case.”
There was his answer. The captain was just as all-knowing as Austin had suspected. A silent communication passed between them, and Austin hated the gratefulness he felt as a result. Instead of outing him in front of the squad, Derek was giving him a chance to do what he did best, alone. But he wasn’t working alone, was he?
Derek handed him a packet from within the folder, likely a broken-down version of Reitman’s record. God, he hoped it didn’t contain a copy of his daughter’s picture. At the same time, he hoped it did. His head was going up in flames, just knowing what Reitman was capable of doing. He might never speak a word to the child he’d fathered, but knowing a single hair on her head was harmed in retaliation for what had taken place between him and Charles? Unacceptable. He couldn’t let it happen. Damn it all, he wanted to be back in the dark hotel room listening to Polly breathe. Feeling his way along the bumps of her spine. He wanted to go back to those stolen hours and never leave.
It couldn’t be a reality now, though. His past had come back to smother him and thus, Polly. Once she knew the kind of monster she’d allowed to touch her, she’d never look at him with anything less than loathing ever again.
“I’ll be checking in via phone for the next few days. Once Austin has something solid, we’ll meet and discuss our next move,” the captain said, before giving Austin a meaningful look. “That shouldn’t be longer than two days.” Chairs scraped back around the room, assaulting Austin’s ears like otherworldly shrieks. Dismissed. How easily they’d dismissed his potential tragedy without even realizing it.
His gaze found Polly where she still sat frozen in her seat. He wanted to touch her in some way. Any way. Ask her what she knew. What she wanted to know. Instead, he tucked the file under his arm and strode from the room.
Chapter Twelve