She blanches. “What? What are you talking about?”
I don’t bother to answer. This time, I decisively turn away from her the way she did me the night I became a killer. One day she will push me too far. And Kane won’t have to bury her body. I’ll happily do it myself.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I settle into the booth across from Andrew and stuff the note I’ve been handed by the hostess into my field bag, at least for the moment. My coat comes off next and the bag goes onto the seat next to me. I’m about to reach for the note again and actually read it when Andrew leans closer and, all snarly and cranky, demands, “You do know Alexandra’s with the DA’s office, right? We need them to do us favors.”
“You might,” I say. “I don’t. And I couldn’t give two flips what she is doing and who she is doing it for. In fact, I couldn’t give two flips if she’s fucking Mick Jagger and the President of the United States, while singing the National Anthem.”
“Mom liked Mick Jagger.”
“Mom isn’t here,” I snap, aware that Mom is on my mind because of that crash last night. “And she never met a President she liked.”
He studies me several beats. “What happened between you and Alexandra?”
I blow off the question and blow off the idea of reading the note back in my bag. Anything from Junior is generally worthless, and a pain in my ass that Andrew will only make more of a pain in my ass. “Have you ordered?”
“No.”
I motion to the waitress and we both order cheeseburgers and fries. I’ll worry about getting fat later. After I’m dead. Which will probably be before my metabolism starts acting like the little engine that could but just doesn’t.
“Neal Woodard was the last known person to talk to Rip,” I say when the waitress leaves. “The naked photos came from a nurse at the hospital.”
“How do you know that, Lilah?” he demands. “I don’t even have that information yet.”
I slide his napkin toward him. “Police.” I slide my napkin toward me. “FBI.”
“Lucas,” he says dryly. “And he broke the law to hack that information.”
“Maybe you should stop being a choir boy since you can’t hold a tune. Like at all. Like, you’re really bad, Andrew. And before you say another word, Lucas is coming to work for the FBI. He doesn’t know it yet, but he is. It’s now official. You can ask him for stuff, too. Then maybe your solve rate will go up.”
He studies me long and hard and then laughs. “You’re such a bitch.”
“And?”
“I love you.”
“I’m not saying it back,” I reply, but him saying the words pinch my chest and the truth is, if we don’t shift this conversation off this sappy shit, I might cry. Damn it, I’m still reeling from last night, too.
“But you do love me,” he says, and thank fuck, he moves on. “Tell me what happened with Woodard.”
“He’s hiding something. My theory is the weapon killing our victims is military, and—”
“—one of Woodard’s ventures,” he assumes.
“Yes, but he denied any company that fit that profile.”
“It could be masked under a totally different industry,” he suggests. “A shelter of sorts.”
“Sometimes you aren’t stupid, Andrew.”
“Maybe, just maybe, Lilah, I’m even smart, and that’s why they made me chief.”
I shrug. “Whatever. Lucas and Tic Tac will be working on finding the shelter. Well, mostly Lucas if we want to do this quickly. Tic Tac is good but he follows the rules. Right now,” I say, grabbing my phone and pulling up my email, “I’m going to forward you the data Lucas and Tic Tac have gathered so far. Unofficially, of course. Read it but only use what you can recreate yourself through proper, legal channels.”
“Believe it or not,” he says, “now that Lucas is coming on with the FBI, I’m not going to bitch about Lucas getting me early information. Or remind you about his addiction to hacking.”
“Because you didn’t just remind me?”
He ignores that question and keeps talking. “I’m feeling heat from above, Lilah. First all that bullshit with the Umbrella Man. Now these murders. The money in this city lends to a helluva lot of pressure.”
“Alexandra says the DA wants to do a press conference.”
“They always want to do a damn press conference,” he grumbles. “And I’ll be pressured into doing one.”
“Just make it fluff, Andrew. If you give away anything—”
“I got it, Lilah. What about the nurse?”
“I don’t think she’s involved, but there’s a caveat to that. Back to Woodard. He was an investor in Banking the Billionaire. And so was Rip. Woodard told me it’s a player’s play, so to speak. Hookups and side deals. He wanted out. He told Rip to get out. Now, this nurse, I have to look up her name, if she was playing the game, that could put her back on the radar.”